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Suder
Craig Suder, third baseman for the Seattle Mariners, is in a terrible slump. He’s batting below .200 at the plate, and even worse in bed with his wife; and he secretly fears he’s inherited his mother’s insanity. Ordered to take a midseason rest, Suder instead takes his record of Charlie Parker’s “Ornithology,” his record player, and his new saxophone and flees, negotiating his way through madcap adventures and flashbacks to childhood (“If you folks believed more strongly in God, maybe you wouldn’t be colored”). Pursued by a raging dope dealer, saddled with a mishandled elephant and an abused little white girl, he manages in the end to fly free, both transcending and inspired by the pull of so much life.
184 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1983
73 people are currently reading
790 people want to read
About the author
Percival Everett
74 books8,944 followersPercival L. Everett (born 1956) is an American writer and Distinguished Professor of English at the University of Southern California.
There might not be a more fertile mind in American fiction today than Everett’s. In 22 years, he has written 19 books, including a farcical Western, a savage satire of the publishing industry, a children’s story spoofing counting books, retellings of the Greek myths of Medea and Dionysus, and a philosophical tract narrated by a four-year-old.
The Washington Post has called Everett “one of the most adventurously experimental of modern American novelists.” And according to The Boston Globe, “He’s literature’s NASCAR champion, going flat out, narrowly avoiding one seemingly inevitable crash only to steer straight for the next.”
Everett, who teaches courses in creative writing, American studies and critical theory, says he writes about what interests him, which explains his prolific output and the range of subjects he has tackled. He also describes himself as a demanding teacher who learns from his students as much as they learn from him.
Everett’s writing has earned him the PEN USA 2006 Literary Award (for his 2005 novel, Wounded), the Academy Award for Literature of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award (for his 2001 novel, Erasure), the PEN/Oakland-Josephine Miles Award for Excellence in Literature (for his 1996 story collection, Big Picture) and the New American Writing Award (for his 1990 novel, Zulus). He has served as a judge for, among others, the 1997 National Book Award for fiction and the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction in 1991.
There might not be a more fertile mind in American fiction today than Everett’s. In 22 years, he has written 19 books, including a farcical Western, a savage satire of the publishing industry, a children’s story spoofing counting books, retellings of the Greek myths of Medea and Dionysus, and a philosophical tract narrated by a four-year-old.
The Washington Post has called Everett “one of the most adventurously experimental of modern American novelists.” And according to The Boston Globe, “He’s literature’s NASCAR champion, going flat out, narrowly avoiding one seemingly inevitable crash only to steer straight for the next.”
Everett, who teaches courses in creative writing, American studies and critical theory, says he writes about what interests him, which explains his prolific output and the range of subjects he has tackled. He also describes himself as a demanding teacher who learns from his students as much as they learn from him.
Everett’s writing has earned him the PEN USA 2006 Literary Award (for his 2005 novel, Wounded), the Academy Award for Literature of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award (for his 2001 novel, Erasure), the PEN/Oakland-Josephine Miles Award for Excellence in Literature (for his 1996 story collection, Big Picture) and the New American Writing Award (for his 1990 novel, Zulus). He has served as a judge for, among others, the 1997 National Book Award for fiction and the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction in 1991.
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July 16, 2022I've become a fan of Percival Everett's writing and his sense of things, so it was inevitable that I would read this, his debut novel. Already there are what will be familiar stylings: snappy dialogue, humor; an intelligent/conflicted/race-aware/male/African-American protagonist who cannot quite mesh with the woman in his life.
And there are components. Have to have components. A jigsaw puzzle of components. Here: a baseball player in a slump; his (flashback) crazy mother; jazz (in particular Charlie Parker's Ornithology); an elephant as a pet; an abused nine year-old girl. A Rubik's Cube of vignettes, but maybe all the sides aren't solid colors. Not that they need to be. Having peeked ahead already, I know Everett will never be troubled by implausibility.
I enjoyed this without loving it.
And there are components. Have to have components. A jigsaw puzzle of components. Here: a baseball player in a slump; his (flashback) crazy mother; jazz (in particular Charlie Parker's Ornithology); an elephant as a pet; an abused nine year-old girl. A Rubik's Cube of vignettes, but maybe all the sides aren't solid colors. Not that they need to be. Having peeked ahead already, I know Everett will never be troubled by implausibility.
I enjoyed this without loving it.
November 18, 2017
If you’ve come from an insane family and have worried about going nuts, you must read this book.
Craig Suder is a baseball player on a bad streak. He tells his story, alternating from crazy present to crazy past, weaving a tale that gets more and more fantastical. For a while I wondered if he knew where he was going with it. He does.
This is my fifth Percival Everett book, and I simply can’t get enough. Copyrighted in 1983, Suder is early Everett. It is a bit less mature than the more recent works, but no less satisfying.
Craig Suder is a baseball player on a bad streak. He tells his story, alternating from crazy present to crazy past, weaving a tale that gets more and more fantastical. For a while I wondered if he knew where he was going with it. He does.
This is my fifth Percival Everett book, and I simply can’t get enough. Copyrighted in 1983, Suder is early Everett. It is a bit less mature than the more recent works, but no less satisfying.
November 3, 2025
So Vintage books has re-issued the first two books by Percival Everett. I saw them in the store grabbed both and this morning I started with Suder and I couldn’t stop until I finished. This was his debut and right from the start the zaniness begins. It’s easy to see how Mr. Everett became a big thing in fiction. The humor, the prose, the sh*t that makes you frown and say ‘yeah ok,’ all of that which we’ve come to know Mr. Everett for is here! A pet elephant, an ugly woman on his heels, a ‘crazy’ mother, Bud Powell as a visitor to his home, and all Craig Suder wants to do is fly, be free! Now, I’m off to read Walk Me To The Distance, Mr. Everett came out the gate as a genius!
August 9, 2011
This was the first Percival Everett book I read. Made me want to read them all.
November 4, 2022
What a strange and wonderful book. I read The Trees and fell in love with Mr Everett's writing and this hasn't dampened my enthusiasm, in fact it's probably increased it. Suder is just as weird as Trees but still deals with weighty subjects such as racism and mental health in a very humorous way.
Craig Suder, a major league baseball player, has hit a slump in his career and his personal life. He finally decides he's had enough and takes us on a road/boat/elephant journey that is as strange as it is wonderful. The story flicks back and forth between the grown and child Craig, showing the similarities of his life.
At first I panicked, thinking this was a baseball story but I should have known better. Perceval Everett takes us on a journey that often left me open mouthed with laughter/shock - there are some real "you can't say/do that" moments in this short but perfectly formed tale.
Bring on the next book. Thankfully there are lots more to read.
Craig Suder, a major league baseball player, has hit a slump in his career and his personal life. He finally decides he's had enough and takes us on a road/boat/elephant journey that is as strange as it is wonderful. The story flicks back and forth between the grown and child Craig, showing the similarities of his life.
At first I panicked, thinking this was a baseball story but I should have known better. Perceval Everett takes us on a journey that often left me open mouthed with laughter/shock - there are some real "you can't say/do that" moments in this short but perfectly formed tale.
Bring on the next book. Thankfully there are lots more to read.
June 11, 2024
The baseball novel is an American institution, so it is only appropriate that Everett starts his career by subverting it. Philip Roth; Coover; DeLillo (partially); Boyle; et. al. may have used baseball as a frame (pun), but Everett uses it as the logical springboard far more involved with that other American contribution, jazz, that is bandied whenever people start talking great American contributions. Mental illness, domestic discord, fallibility, childhood trauma, racism, abuse, and elephants may be larger themes of the novel, but we ain’t got dibs on that shit.
Personally, the fictionalized version of bop legend Bud Powell is the high card here. Familiarity with Powell isn’t required, but definitely adds much if you know the talking points. His association and playing with Charlie Parker is the only work referenced within, but Powell’s story is an elemental Black American tragedy. Moreover, he’s one of the cornerstones of jazz piano that played on hundreds of sides, both as leader and sideman.
Powell really did leave the States for Paris and find a patron, career, and social parity; that is all real life. His brief stay with the Suder’s right on the eve of that departure is not, of course, but here’s where fact augments fiction. Though he got out of America in 1959, there was never any chance of his surviving it long. He suffered mental illness exponentially exacerbated by a nightstick beating care of, if memory serves, the NY Police Dept in the middle-1940s. He withstood ECT ‘shock therapy’ for years thereafter. On a 1966 tour of America, Powell died from a combination of tuberculosis, stress-induced psychotic episodes that led to self-neglect, alcoholism, and malnutrition. This is the pianist of The Quintet—yes, THAT one—but America ensured that Powell, just like Bird, would never again leave the roost (pun 2).
Worst of all? It was discovered after his death that his ‘mental illness’ and subsequent means of coping stemmed from an undiagnosed and untreated epilepsy. He was a grand old 41 years old when he died. In the argot of the times, ain’t that a bitch?
Should you decide to read this fine debut, this factual sketch of Bud Powell provides even greater synaptic connection between jazz and baseball, two forms that were anything but kind to the exceptionalism of their respective Black geniuses in the formative years of swinging the bat or the ride cymbal.
Motherfuckers.
Personally, the fictionalized version of bop legend Bud Powell is the high card here. Familiarity with Powell isn’t required, but definitely adds much if you know the talking points. His association and playing with Charlie Parker is the only work referenced within, but Powell’s story is an elemental Black American tragedy. Moreover, he’s one of the cornerstones of jazz piano that played on hundreds of sides, both as leader and sideman.
Powell really did leave the States for Paris and find a patron, career, and social parity; that is all real life. His brief stay with the Suder’s right on the eve of that departure is not, of course, but here’s where fact augments fiction. Though he got out of America in 1959, there was never any chance of his surviving it long. He suffered mental illness exponentially exacerbated by a nightstick beating care of, if memory serves, the NY Police Dept in the middle-1940s. He withstood ECT ‘shock therapy’ for years thereafter. On a 1966 tour of America, Powell died from a combination of tuberculosis, stress-induced psychotic episodes that led to self-neglect, alcoholism, and malnutrition. This is the pianist of The Quintet—yes, THAT one—but America ensured that Powell, just like Bird, would never again leave the roost (pun 2).
Worst of all? It was discovered after his death that his ‘mental illness’ and subsequent means of coping stemmed from an undiagnosed and untreated epilepsy. He was a grand old 41 years old when he died. In the argot of the times, ain’t that a bitch?
Should you decide to read this fine debut, this factual sketch of Bud Powell provides even greater synaptic connection between jazz and baseball, two forms that were anything but kind to the exceptionalism of their respective Black geniuses in the formative years of swinging the bat or the ride cymbal.
Motherfuckers.
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December 9, 2025i had a book club for James this week at work, and I was trying to explain to my coworkers just how random and silly Percival Everett's books can get. And, so — his debut of course would feature a failing professional baseball player on the run from a drug dealer, caring for an elephant
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November 5, 2025DNF about halfway. Was not clicking with me in literally any way
October 16, 2020
It's a weird as hell book that includes the Seattle Mariners and jazz.
August 29, 2025
giving this a 5 since it deserves to be above a four average
November 24, 2025
James was my first read of Percival Everett’s and when Vintage re-issued Suder, his debut novel, I grabbed it. Learning that JD Jackson narrates the audio (he is one of my favorites), I listened to this one and followed along with the book and it was fantastic, strange and perfect. The length is perfect and I am now going to read everything else he has written.
Thank you Vintage #partner for the free copy to review.
Thank you Vintage #partner for the free copy to review.
July 17, 2022
This slim book is Percival Everett's first novel and much of what I love about his work is already apparent. One is Everett's gift with dialogue. Characters talk past each other. They answer questions not asked and ignore those that are. He does the same with plot: characters making choices that don't make immediate sense and making the reader figure it out later. Matt Bell's Refuse to Be Done tells writers to avoid the urge to over-explain everything, to let the reader figure it out. Everett clearly had mastery this technique from the beginning.
So, the plot: Craig Suder is a professional baseball player in the middle of a slump, on and off the field. Maybe one drives the other. But which way? So off he goes on madcap antics — which are sometimes cringe-worthy nearly 40 years after the book was published — that run right up against believability but never cross over, at least for me.
So, the plot: Craig Suder is a professional baseball player in the middle of a slump, on and off the field. Maybe one drives the other. But which way? So off he goes on madcap antics — which are sometimes cringe-worthy nearly 40 years after the book was published — that run right up against believability but never cross over, at least for me.
October 5, 2025
I wouldn’t have picked up a novel about baseball unless it was written by Percival Everett. Except this isn’t a novel about baseball. And there is absolutely no way in hell I could ever have predicted half the things that actually happen in this book!
January 27, 2025
3.5 // This is a hilarious and extremely weird and also creepy and depressing book. It is a dark satire that has a very tenuous tie to reality. Everett really stopped at nothing in crafting Suder’s narrative. Though there are some ~icky~ parts at times, I think the irrationality of this book totally adds to the experience and enhances the theme of living up to // exceeding the expectations placed upon someone.
When reading modernist literature, I sometimes forget that narrative and stories are not always told as versimilitudes of reality. Thematic relevance can (and often should) be conveyed through fantastical ideas and satirical characters. Maybe that isn’t what we live in but it is sometimes what it feels like. And… what is a story for but to bring out those feelings and highlight them in a way that the everyday doesn’t …?
Good book. Would recommend. Gonna work my way thru Everett when the semester gets rolling and I find reading times 🫡🫡
When reading modernist literature, I sometimes forget that narrative and stories are not always told as versimilitudes of reality. Thematic relevance can (and often should) be conveyed through fantastical ideas and satirical characters. Maybe that isn’t what we live in but it is sometimes what it feels like. And… what is a story for but to bring out those feelings and highlight them in a way that the everyday doesn’t …?
Good book. Would recommend. Gonna work my way thru Everett when the semester gets rolling and I find reading times 🫡🫡
September 4, 2025
3.5 stars
This was Percival Everett's first book, but a new edition that I listened to. The narrator was excellent. I found the story a little confusing. It co-mingles present day with remembrances.
Craig Suder is a professional baseball player who's in a slump both on the field and at home. The ball team management gives Suder a little time off so, hopefully, he'll find his groove.
Some of the story becomes fantastical when young Craig becomes the proud owner of an elephant he re-names Renoir that he needs to protect from one of his friends who has learned taxidermy and is too eager to try his skills on an animal that large.
I know that listening is not always as memorable as reading but I thought I paid close attention but still got lost in "now" and "then" transitions.
This was Percival Everett's first book, but a new edition that I listened to. The narrator was excellent. I found the story a little confusing. It co-mingles present day with remembrances.
Craig Suder is a professional baseball player who's in a slump both on the field and at home. The ball team management gives Suder a little time off so, hopefully, he'll find his groove.
Some of the story becomes fantastical when young Craig becomes the proud owner of an elephant he re-names Renoir that he needs to protect from one of his friends who has learned taxidermy and is too eager to try his skills on an animal that large.
I know that listening is not always as memorable as reading but I thought I paid close attention but still got lost in "now" and "then" transitions.
September 9, 2025
This book didn’t work for me, which may say more about me than the book.
Among the masses who have only recently discovered the majesty of Percival Everrett’s writing (“James,” “Erasure,” “Trees”), I was drawn to this debut novel, written way back in 1983, because the titular character, Craig Suder, is a Seattle Mariners third baseman in the midst of a batting slump. In other words, I was expecting a baseball book — and that is not what this is.
The tale that instead unfolds is implausible and fantastical — which, I suspect, was part of the point. I know the plot’s craziness enthralled many readers, but I wasn’t among them.
Among the masses who have only recently discovered the majesty of Percival Everrett’s writing (“James,” “Erasure,” “Trees”), I was drawn to this debut novel, written way back in 1983, because the titular character, Craig Suder, is a Seattle Mariners third baseman in the midst of a batting slump. In other words, I was expecting a baseball book — and that is not what this is.
The tale that instead unfolds is implausible and fantastical — which, I suspect, was part of the point. I know the plot’s craziness enthralled many readers, but I wasn’t among them.
September 21, 2024
A short slapstick comedy that touches deeply on many societal issues (racism, taboos) while also a complete(ly ridiculous) farce. I loved it.
The Everett book its most like (of the 16 I've read so far) is American Desert--where a man whose head was cut off in a car accident "wakes up" so to speak when it's sewn back on (not a spoiler, that happens right away). If you like Richard Russo's "Straight Man", it's that kind of vibe--one of those books where things just roll further and further downhill for the main characters and often it's 100% their own fault.
The Everett book its most like (of the 16 I've read so far) is American Desert--where a man whose head was cut off in a car accident "wakes up" so to speak when it's sewn back on (not a spoiler, that happens right away). If you like Richard Russo's "Straight Man", it's that kind of vibe--one of those books where things just roll further and further downhill for the main characters and often it's 100% their own fault.
December 31, 2023
Caused me to listen to a particular Charlie Parker album I hadn't listened to before. Very odd happenings, but put together realistically. I look forward to seeing what the author can do without leaning heavily on the bizarre.
September 27, 2025
“Nothings fair and nobody knows anything. That’s just the way it is”
Incredible debut novel from Everett, no wonder he has continued to have such a prolific career. This novel rocks. It’s in the same vein as the Biblical Job story (similar to novels like Herzog by Bellow or Stern by Friedman). I’m a sucker for that theme the beautiful loser, the man cursed by god, the persistence despite it all, whatever you want to call it.
I’ve been listening to Ornithology by Charlie Parker on repeat for the last 24 hours.
Incredible debut novel from Everett, no wonder he has continued to have such a prolific career. This novel rocks. It’s in the same vein as the Biblical Job story (similar to novels like Herzog by Bellow or Stern by Friedman). I’m a sucker for that theme the beautiful loser, the man cursed by god, the persistence despite it all, whatever you want to call it.
I’ve been listening to Ornithology by Charlie Parker on repeat for the last 24 hours.
January 28, 2025
3.5!!!!! This surprised me fr. At first I thought it was just an obnoxious tall tale but the ending was super profound. Critical commentary on being Black in postmodern America 😍 Percival Everett 😍😍
October 25, 2025
"Nothing's fair and nobody knows anything. That's just the way it is."
Not Everett's best book, but hot dang it's a wild ride of a debut. Roadkill, baseball, an elephant, kidnapping, mental illness, Charlie Parker, coming of age. It's all here.
Not Everett's best book, but hot dang it's a wild ride of a debut. Roadkill, baseball, an elephant, kidnapping, mental illness, Charlie Parker, coming of age. It's all here.
January 16, 2025
More than anything, this book made me glad I'm not a librarian.
The titular protagonist/main character is a baseball player...a black baseball player, to be specific. However, neither of those facts are what the story is about. In fact, the story doesn't seem to be about anything. Hence the joy that I'm not burdened with the task of determining where to shelve this book.
Let me try to explain:
Craig Suder plays third base for the Seattle Mariners but not performing well in that capacity. He's also a married man and not performing well in that capacity either. The team places him on the disabled list with a phantom leg injury so he can 'get his mind right' and he ends up on a sabbatical journey, collecting travelling companions along the way. The 'companions' consist of a baseball bat, a phonograph, a jazz record, a saxophone, a briefcase full of 'stolen' cash, an elephant, and an abused 9-year-old girl. Does that seem like an odd, disjointed list? If so, you can almost appreciate how odd and disjointed this story is, but you also have to constantly intersperse childhood memories/flashbacks about a mother with an apparent mental illness, the fear that mental illness is hereditary and (just to make sure things don't get too close to connected) some very strange interactions with public masturbation.
I guess shelving this book won't be so difficult after all. I've got three categories pulled from my very own review.
Odd. Disjointed. Very strange.
The titular protagonist/main character is a baseball player...a black baseball player, to be specific. However, neither of those facts are what the story is about. In fact, the story doesn't seem to be about anything. Hence the joy that I'm not burdened with the task of determining where to shelve this book.
Let me try to explain:
Craig Suder plays third base for the Seattle Mariners but not performing well in that capacity. He's also a married man and not performing well in that capacity either. The team places him on the disabled list with a phantom leg injury so he can 'get his mind right' and he ends up on a sabbatical journey, collecting travelling companions along the way. The 'companions' consist of a baseball bat, a phonograph, a jazz record, a saxophone, a briefcase full of 'stolen' cash, an elephant, and an abused 9-year-old girl. Does that seem like an odd, disjointed list? If so, you can almost appreciate how odd and disjointed this story is, but you also have to constantly intersperse childhood memories/flashbacks about a mother with an apparent mental illness, the fear that mental illness is hereditary and (just to make sure things don't get too close to connected) some very strange interactions with public masturbation.
I guess shelving this book won't be so difficult after all. I've got three categories pulled from my very own review.
Odd. Disjointed. Very strange.
January 18, 2009
Everett magnificence, unlike so many others I've read, is apparent from the very start. Suder is his first book and an extremely entertaining one. A former baseball player who is losing his mind, has an obsession with 'Ornithology' (one can't think of a better jazz song) and other craziness to boot. Must enjoy!!!!
August 11, 2020
I love this book. The voices and characters are so fresh and strange and meandering and searching. This has all that a novel should be. Highly recommend!!!
February 16, 2024
3.5 Stars.
Percival Everett has quickly joined my favorite author’s list, which includes Octavia E. Butler, Jonathan Carroll, Charles de Lint, Guy Gavriel Kay, Haruki Murakami and Gene Wolfe. Having read multiple novels by these authors, I must say that Everett has ventured into similar status.
Suder is my third Everett novel following the excellent Erasure (now a movie as American Fiction) and the very good, So Much Blue. Everett’s blend of satire, absurdity, and poignant family drama has drawn me in as a reader. He has expanded the range of African American literature that is quite refreshing.
This is the story of Craig Suder, the third baseman of the Seattle Mariners. He is going through a serious hitting slump and his baseball career is in jeopardy. Additionally, he is experiencing difficulties with intimacy in his marriage to Thelma. Suder is going through the storm of life and leaves it all behind to travel to Oregon.
Along the way, someone gifts Suder with an elephant that becomes his pet, he inherits a nine-year-old girl who ran away from her abusive parents, and he is holding a large sum of cash for an acquaintance. Furthermore, he recalls his mentally ill mother and the way she deteriorated in front of him when he was young. On the surface, it does not seem like all these elements would coalesce into a story, but Everett pulls it off. I will admit that I wanted more of the connection between Suder and his wife and the relationship did not feel fully developed in the novel.
Suder, Percival Everett’s debut novel, establishes the foundation for his satirical and absurdist writing style, which is now receiving well-deserved recognition. I am delighted that Everett is getting his flowers. He has earned it. I have really enjoyed his work so far and am eager to read more of his oeuvre.
Percival Everett has quickly joined my favorite author’s list, which includes Octavia E. Butler, Jonathan Carroll, Charles de Lint, Guy Gavriel Kay, Haruki Murakami and Gene Wolfe. Having read multiple novels by these authors, I must say that Everett has ventured into similar status.
Suder is my third Everett novel following the excellent Erasure (now a movie as American Fiction) and the very good, So Much Blue. Everett’s blend of satire, absurdity, and poignant family drama has drawn me in as a reader. He has expanded the range of African American literature that is quite refreshing.
This is the story of Craig Suder, the third baseman of the Seattle Mariners. He is going through a serious hitting slump and his baseball career is in jeopardy. Additionally, he is experiencing difficulties with intimacy in his marriage to Thelma. Suder is going through the storm of life and leaves it all behind to travel to Oregon.
Along the way, someone gifts Suder with an elephant that becomes his pet, he inherits a nine-year-old girl who ran away from her abusive parents, and he is holding a large sum of cash for an acquaintance. Furthermore, he recalls his mentally ill mother and the way she deteriorated in front of him when he was young. On the surface, it does not seem like all these elements would coalesce into a story, but Everett pulls it off. I will admit that I wanted more of the connection between Suder and his wife and the relationship did not feel fully developed in the novel.
Suder, Percival Everett’s debut novel, establishes the foundation for his satirical and absurdist writing style, which is now receiving well-deserved recognition. I am delighted that Everett is getting his flowers. He has earned it. I have really enjoyed his work so far and am eager to read more of his oeuvre.
April 25, 2023
I am late to the Percival Everett parade. He is one of our great American novelists. I have started working my way through his very long back list. He has published over twenty novels in an amazing array of styles, topics, and tone.
This is his first novel, published in 1983. Craig Suder, who tells us his story, is a third baseman for the Seattle Mariners. He is in a terrible slump. His Coach orders him to take a midseason rest. He is having marital problems and his son ignores him.
He heads off on the road. His plan to go out on a boat with a friend turns into a drug deal from hell. His idea of using his Coach's cabin in the woods north of Seattle becomes increasingly bizarre. It includes, prominently, an elephant he bought from a side show and a runaway nine-year-old girl.
Suder weaves in the story of his peculiar childhood as a black boy in a small North Carolina town. His father was a doctor, and his mother was crazy. She described herself that way, and everyone agreed. Craig was the favorite son. His brother Martin was the bad kid. He tells wild stories of his mother's antics.
Bud Powell, the brilliant jazz pianist, was a friend of Suder's father. He stays with them for several months and triggers Suder's love of jazz. Charlie Parker's "Ornithology" becomes his personal anthem, to the point where he lugs around a portable record player to play that song anywhere he can find a plug.
The story is not as antic as it sounds. Suder is a calm and clear narrator who just tells us one thing after another which happens to him. It is great storytelling.
Even at the beginning of his career, Everett had found the themes that fascinated him; the endless oddity of American lives, the road trip just for the sake of moving, the burden of being black in America even if you do not define yourself solely by that, and the difficulty of having an honest relationship with anyone. He also has a basic idea that most people are decent.
Everett is, among his other skills, a great comic writer. He has several good running gags, including everyone insisting that Suder has a leg injury. He loves dead pan humor in crazy situations.
I am definitely going to continue my exploration of Percival Everett's oeuvre.
This is his first novel, published in 1983. Craig Suder, who tells us his story, is a third baseman for the Seattle Mariners. He is in a terrible slump. His Coach orders him to take a midseason rest. He is having marital problems and his son ignores him.
He heads off on the road. His plan to go out on a boat with a friend turns into a drug deal from hell. His idea of using his Coach's cabin in the woods north of Seattle becomes increasingly bizarre. It includes, prominently, an elephant he bought from a side show and a runaway nine-year-old girl.
Suder weaves in the story of his peculiar childhood as a black boy in a small North Carolina town. His father was a doctor, and his mother was crazy. She described herself that way, and everyone agreed. Craig was the favorite son. His brother Martin was the bad kid. He tells wild stories of his mother's antics.
Bud Powell, the brilliant jazz pianist, was a friend of Suder's father. He stays with them for several months and triggers Suder's love of jazz. Charlie Parker's "Ornithology" becomes his personal anthem, to the point where he lugs around a portable record player to play that song anywhere he can find a plug.
The story is not as antic as it sounds. Suder is a calm and clear narrator who just tells us one thing after another which happens to him. It is great storytelling.
Even at the beginning of his career, Everett had found the themes that fascinated him; the endless oddity of American lives, the road trip just for the sake of moving, the burden of being black in America even if you do not define yourself solely by that, and the difficulty of having an honest relationship with anyone. He also has a basic idea that most people are decent.
Everett is, among his other skills, a great comic writer. He has several good running gags, including everyone insisting that Suder has a leg injury. He loves dead pan humor in crazy situations.
I am definitely going to continue my exploration of Percival Everett's oeuvre.
June 30, 2024
Dude…how have I not heard of this book before? Hilarious, sad, incredibly clever, there is clearly a bit more to this than I’m able to appreciate at first reading. I’m detecting a theme here, this being the third Everett novel I’ve read so far, in that he has this way of storytelling that makes it impossible to predict what is about to come next. That is a unique aspect in fiction that you don’t really notice until you find a book that constantly surprises you page after page.
Like how can you pack sooo much book within 171 pages? Childhood trauma, racism, mental illness, sexual abuse, disreputable funeral home practices, pro sports yips, an ode to American jazz greats AND American baseball lore, a comedic taxidermy hobby-and all the while the line between sane and insane blurs to where neither you nor the protagonist is quite sure what the hell is going on.
P.S.- Heading out to buy a copy of Ornithology.
“As I'm walking down I start to think that maybe I'm asking too much for anyone to listen to my problems. I mean, maybe people can't listen and understand if they're busy expecting things of me. This matter of expectations is really getting to me and I begin to have an identity crisis of sorts.”
"What's that?' He points at Renoir with his head.
"That's an elephant," I says.
"Why?"
I'm puzzled and I'm looking at Renoir. " 'Cause he ain't a dog.”
"That's 'Ornithology, " Daddy corrected me.
"I'll play it for you, Bird." Bud played it. I could feel the push of the song, a tension. It seemed like Bud was going somewhere he wasn't supposed to go.”
“At least the dog is free to get shot."
"That's not fair," I said. "The dog doesn't know anything."
Bud stopped at the door and turned to me. "Nothing's fair and nobody knows anything. That's just the way it is." He looked at my puzzled expression. "You don't understand.
Don't worry, what I'm saying doesn't make any sense."
Like how can you pack sooo much book within 171 pages? Childhood trauma, racism, mental illness, sexual abuse, disreputable funeral home practices, pro sports yips, an ode to American jazz greats AND American baseball lore, a comedic taxidermy hobby-and all the while the line between sane and insane blurs to where neither you nor the protagonist is quite sure what the hell is going on.
P.S.- Heading out to buy a copy of Ornithology.
“As I'm walking down I start to think that maybe I'm asking too much for anyone to listen to my problems. I mean, maybe people can't listen and understand if they're busy expecting things of me. This matter of expectations is really getting to me and I begin to have an identity crisis of sorts.”
"What's that?' He points at Renoir with his head.
"That's an elephant," I says.
"Why?"
I'm puzzled and I'm looking at Renoir. " 'Cause he ain't a dog.”
"That's 'Ornithology, " Daddy corrected me.
"I'll play it for you, Bird." Bud played it. I could feel the push of the song, a tension. It seemed like Bud was going somewhere he wasn't supposed to go.”
“At least the dog is free to get shot."
"That's not fair," I said. "The dog doesn't know anything."
Bud stopped at the door and turned to me. "Nothing's fair and nobody knows anything. That's just the way it is." He looked at my puzzled expression. "You don't understand.
Don't worry, what I'm saying doesn't make any sense."
January 8, 2026
After reading his debut novel, I can say that from the very beginning Percival Everett has had a distinct approach to his writing. He hooks you with an intriguing premise, starts with a conventional storytelling style, and then completely flips it, subverting genres and traditional narratives, especially those about Black men. In Suder, what begins as sports fiction quickly shifts into a picaresque, increasingly farcical journey. I’ve yet to encounter an ending from him that neatly ties everything together in an unambiguous way.
For Everett, it’s clearly more about the journey than the destination. In interviews, he admits he deliberately refuses to explain what his books mean, insisting instead that readers grapple with the text. What is the meaning of certain characters or events? I can’t always claim to know, but his prose and dialogue are so engaging that I’m always willing to go along for the ride. His themes, while not always overt, are apparent enough to make it clear he’s offering serious commentary worth engaging with. In Suder, and you could argue that in most of his novels, he’s asking: what does freedom look like for a Black man in America? Dominant white cultural norms and stereotypes restrict the social, economic, and personal freedoms of Black people, forcing them to navigate a world that sees their authentic selves as threatening or abnormal. What mental and physical burdens does this create? How does that trauma persist? And ultimately, how do we overcome it?
This one is somewhere between 3.5 and 4 stars for me. Fans of Everett will definitely enjoy it, or those curious about his style in the ’80s. Still, I find his more recent work sharper. He’s definitely perfected his craft over time.
For Everett, it’s clearly more about the journey than the destination. In interviews, he admits he deliberately refuses to explain what his books mean, insisting instead that readers grapple with the text. What is the meaning of certain characters or events? I can’t always claim to know, but his prose and dialogue are so engaging that I’m always willing to go along for the ride. His themes, while not always overt, are apparent enough to make it clear he’s offering serious commentary worth engaging with. In Suder, and you could argue that in most of his novels, he’s asking: what does freedom look like for a Black man in America? Dominant white cultural norms and stereotypes restrict the social, economic, and personal freedoms of Black people, forcing them to navigate a world that sees their authentic selves as threatening or abnormal. What mental and physical burdens does this create? How does that trauma persist? And ultimately, how do we overcome it?
This one is somewhere between 3.5 and 4 stars for me. Fans of Everett will definitely enjoy it, or those curious about his style in the ’80s. Still, I find his more recent work sharper. He’s definitely perfected his craft over time.
November 14, 2025
Having just finished God’s Country the night before, I lucked out finding this in a bookstore downtown with a half-off sticker.
I think this is a more entertaining and far less polished work than God’s Country, but there is an interesting comparison between the works. Suder is an ambitious first novel with lots of raw emotion, with its many ideas freely roaming about the text. God’s Country is a work much later into his career whose story is concise with its ideas married nicely.
In both novels, his language is simple and the reading is easy without feeling sparse on the actual storytelling. The subtext in this work is glaring, enough so that the “big idea” of the work begins to wear on you a bit. The introduction of the third act caused me to groan a bit as it was all obviously coming to a predictable cascade of all the ideas leading up.
Comparatively, God’s Country is a little too dry, though its conclusion defies predictability by posing a question through the fourth wall without truly breaking through it.
All in all, I may remember this novel a bit more fondly than the other. Sort of like going back to the student-era/low-budget first works of a favorite filmmaker. The visuals are film-flam but you can feel it a whole lot better, even if you can see the bare bones through its flesh as it comes further into the light.
I think this is a more entertaining and far less polished work than God’s Country, but there is an interesting comparison between the works. Suder is an ambitious first novel with lots of raw emotion, with its many ideas freely roaming about the text. God’s Country is a work much later into his career whose story is concise with its ideas married nicely.
In both novels, his language is simple and the reading is easy without feeling sparse on the actual storytelling. The subtext in this work is glaring, enough so that the “big idea” of the work begins to wear on you a bit. The introduction of the third act caused me to groan a bit as it was all obviously coming to a predictable cascade of all the ideas leading up.
Comparatively, God’s Country is a little too dry, though its conclusion defies predictability by posing a question through the fourth wall without truly breaking through it.
All in all, I may remember this novel a bit more fondly than the other. Sort of like going back to the student-era/low-budget first works of a favorite filmmaker. The visuals are film-flam but you can feel it a whole lot better, even if you can see the bare bones through its flesh as it comes further into the light.
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