What do you think?
Rate this book
Los Grandissime
Después de la guerra civil, en unos Estados Unidos ávidos por descubrirse a sí mismos y por reencontrar aquellas regiones demasiado alejadas del gran centro neurálgico de la cultura nacional de la costa este, George Washington Cable (1844-1925) surgió como el descubridor literario del exotismo que encerraba la pintoresca Nueva Orleans.
Los Grandissime (1880) es la primera novela sureña que puede calificarse de moderna. Si la ficción sureña del siglo XX se caracteriza por intentar tratar de una manera justa el complejo entramado de la experiencia racial de la región, la obra de Cable es el primer texto literario escrito por un sureño en el que esta intención es sobresaliente. Los Grandissime inaugura el tratamiento de temas que escritores sureños blancos como Ellen Glasgow, William Faulkner, Thomas Wolfe, Robert Penn Warren, Eudora Welty, William Styron y otros retomarán. La novela propone una visión de la vida sureña expresada a través de personajes y situaciones violentas, que, aunque situadas a principios del siglo XIX, remiten al Sur de posguerra. Al tratar temas como la explotación económica, la unión al pasado, la profanación de los derechos humanos, la fricción en las relaciones sociales y la culpa del hombre blanco al servirse del afroamericano, Cable abrió nuevos horizontes no sólo en la literatura sureña, sino también en la norteamericana.
Los Grandissime (1880) es la primera novela sureña que puede calificarse de moderna. Si la ficción sureña del siglo XX se caracteriza por intentar tratar de una manera justa el complejo entramado de la experiencia racial de la región, la obra de Cable es el primer texto literario escrito por un sureño en el que esta intención es sobresaliente. Los Grandissime inaugura el tratamiento de temas que escritores sureños blancos como Ellen Glasgow, William Faulkner, Thomas Wolfe, Robert Penn Warren, Eudora Welty, William Styron y otros retomarán. La novela propone una visión de la vida sureña expresada a través de personajes y situaciones violentas, que, aunque situadas a principios del siglo XIX, remiten al Sur de posguerra. Al tratar temas como la explotación económica, la unión al pasado, la profanación de los derechos humanos, la fricción en las relaciones sociales y la culpa del hombre blanco al servirse del afroamericano, Cable abrió nuevos horizontes no sólo en la literatura sureña, sino también en la norteamericana.
674 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1880
32 people are currently reading
598 people want to read
About the author
George Washington Cable
109 books30 followersGeorge Washington Cable was an American novelist notable for the realism of his portrayals of Creole life in his native Louisiana.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 38 reviews
October 9, 2017
A reread, this time on my Kindle via a Gutenberg download: I highlighted tons of passages to share, along with some non-English words to look up. I took the Kindle on a trip, reading from it on the plane, both ways. At home, the night after my return, at about the 80% mark, all my highlighting had mysteriously disappeared (in this document only, not in others): the equivalent of a ton of Post-it notes falling out of a physical book for no discernible reason. (Urrrgh!)
Oh, well.
Those beautiful, gone-with-the-wind sentences described, at least for me, present-day New Orleans; though the novel is set immediately post-Louisiana Purchase. Yet, as my reading buddy emphasized, what has changed are the white (European) Creoles: they are no more, disappearing even as they doth-protested-too-much their presumed superiority (due to their so-called pure whiteness), kicking-and-screaming the whole way, and despite the reality of the progeny of mixed-race unions and the illogicality of their beliefs. George Washington Cable, born in New Orleans, called theirs “a doomed civilization” (at the Kindle-93% point of the novel) and he was despised for speaking the truth.
The story is of complicated topics—identity (including of caste and class) and its entrenchment—and is told with realism, sentiment and irony. I read it with sadness, knowing that Cable’s championing of racial (and gender) equality was not accepted then and, in so many ways, is not accepted still.
Oh, well.
Those beautiful, gone-with-the-wind sentences described, at least for me, present-day New Orleans; though the novel is set immediately post-Louisiana Purchase. Yet, as my reading buddy emphasized, what has changed are the white (European) Creoles: they are no more, disappearing even as they doth-protested-too-much their presumed superiority (due to their so-called pure whiteness), kicking-and-screaming the whole way, and despite the reality of the progeny of mixed-race unions and the illogicality of their beliefs. George Washington Cable, born in New Orleans, called theirs “a doomed civilization” (at the Kindle-93% point of the novel) and he was despised for speaking the truth.
The story is of complicated topics—identity (including of caste and class) and its entrenchment—and is told with realism, sentiment and irony. I read it with sadness, knowing that Cable’s championing of racial (and gender) equality was not accepted then and, in so many ways, is not accepted still.
February 21, 2023
“Grandissime” means “most grand,” in a Latin-French-fusion sort of way; and therefore, “Grandissime” serves as an appropriate surname for the family of Louisiana grandees whose saga is chronicled by the New Orleans writer George Washington Cable in his 1880 novel The Grandissimes.
George Washington Cable has often been called the first modern Southern author, and his turbulent life conveys the historical and cultural movement of his region from Old South to New South. Born in 1844, the then-18-year-old Cable saw his native city of New Orleans occupied by Union forces in 1862; one year later, he passed through the lines and joined the Confederate Army. As a private in a Mississippi unit of rebel cavalry, he served courageously and sustained two battle wounds; but in the post-Civil War years, he came to question the racial norms that had propelled his region into the Confederacy. That questioning spirit found its highest expression in the short stories collected in his first book, Old Creole Days (1879), and then in his first novel, The Grandissimes.
Writing in the post-Civil War years, Cable sets The Grandissimes in another time of transition from Louisiana’s history – the era of the Louisiana Purchase (1803), when the city of New Orleans, the future state of Louisiana, and the rest of the vast Louisiana Territory passed from French to American sovereignty. As Cable’s narrator puts it, “It was the year 1804. The world was trembling under the tread of the dread Corsican. It was but now that he had tossed away the whole Valley of the Mississippi, dropping it overboard as a little sand from a balloon, and Christendom in a pale agony of suspense was watching the turn of his eye” (p. 204). This change in sovereignty was distinctly unwelcome to many members of Louisiana’s Creole elite – as surely as the fall of the Confederacy, the end of slavery, and the restoration of the Union had been unwelcome to many white Southerners in Cable’s own time.
In the midst of this tense time of change, the reader is introduced to the Grandissime family and its tangled history through the introduction of an outsider character – one Joseph Frowenfeld (a German-American, like Cable himself), who emigrates to Louisiana after the Purchase, as many other Americans had done back then, in search of new economic opportunities.
He finds those opportunities, but he finds much else as well, starting when he is befriended by one Agricola Fusilier, a planter whose name (agricola is Latin for “farmer,” and fusilier is French for “rifleman”) bespeaks his status as a personification of the Old South’s agrarian/military mindset. Through Agricola, Frowenfeld gets his introduction to the socially prominent Grandissime family, and – fatefully – to the story of Bras-Coupé, an enslaved African prince whose tragic story binds together all of the characters in the novel.
Frowenfeld experiences some initial confusion when he hears about someone named Honoré Grandissime; and that confusion is understandable, as The Grandissimes features two different focal characters who share the same name of Honoré Grandissime. One Honoré Grandissime is a white Creole, a descendant of the original French and Spanish aristocracy that first colonized Louisiana. The other Honoré Grandissime is a free man of color (or f.m.c.), a descendant of illicit unions between the Creole elite and enslaved Africans. Both Honoré Grandissimes are wealthy and influential individuals in their society; but while the Creole Honoré enjoys all the advantages denoted by white skin in the antebellum South, the f.m.c. Honoré occupies an amorphous status – blessed with wealth, but with social status limited by his skin color.
This odd feature of the novel provides context to moments like the one when Agricola Fusilier is stabbed by a mysterious assailant, and the Creole Honoré says to Frowenfeld that “at first I thought [the assailant] was the other Honoré” (p. 101). And it no doubt reflects the widespread late-19th-century interest in the idea of the divided self; Robert Louis Stevenson’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was published just six years after The Grandissimes. But as a literary conceit, it errs on the side of being precious.
The main conflicts in The Grandissimes are twofold. The Grandissime family’s entire fortune rests on assets that were unjustly taken from another Creole family, the De Grapions; the last two members of the De Grapion family, the beautiful Aurore and her equally beautiful daughter Clotilde, live in genteel poverty, and scrape by as best they can. This seems as good a place as any to mention that the Creole Honoré is in love with Aurore, while the outsider Frowenfeld is in love with Clotilde. Cable always seems to have felt that he needed to spice up his story with a love subplot, even if sometimes clumsily.
The main arc of the novel’s narrative centers around the Creole Honoré (whose name, after all, means “honor”) bringing himself around to do right by the wronged De Grapion ladies – even if it risks the Grandissime fortune, and even if it means that his disgruntled relatives will dismiss what the Creole Honoré has done by saying, “We can only say, ‘Farewell! He is gone over to the enemy’” (p. 303). The Creole Honoré does not want anyone to think that he is doing so out of love for Aurore – causing his friend, the tuberculosis-stricken Doctor Keene, to protest that the Creole Honoré has “perpetrated a lot of heroic behavior that would have done honor to four-and-twenty Brutuses; and now that you have a chance to do something easy and human, you shiver and shrink at the ‘looks o’ the thing’” (p. 301).
In the meantime, while all this romantic intrigue goes on among the novel’s white characters, Cable provides regular reminders of the much more difficult lot of African Americans in this antebellum setting. Black characters in the novel are beaten, tortured, maimed, murdered – all of it in accordance with the astonishingly cruel “Slave Code” that had existed in French colonial Louisiana, and was retained in most of its aspects once Louisiana became part of the United States of America. It is a singularly subversive means by which Cable offers social criticism of the Southern racism of his time.
Because Cable was critiquing slavery, fifteen years after slavery had been done away with, his ventures into social criticism in The Grandissimes were considered acceptable, and Cable was lauded as the first great writer of the post-Civil War South. Later in his career, when Cable turned his attention to the segregation system of his own time, and to the ongoing prejudice and violence against African Americans throughout the South, the white South turned on him, and he was compelled to leave New Orleans with his family and relocate to Massachusetts. Yet his portrait of New Orleans and Louisiana in The Grandissimes – with its passages of rich description, its painstaking re-creation of the speech patterns of Louisiana Creoles – lives on. It is a powerful, nuanced, multi-layered novel that brings to life the beautiful, dangerous, paradox-laden social setting that was, and is, New Orleans.
George Washington Cable has often been called the first modern Southern author, and his turbulent life conveys the historical and cultural movement of his region from Old South to New South. Born in 1844, the then-18-year-old Cable saw his native city of New Orleans occupied by Union forces in 1862; one year later, he passed through the lines and joined the Confederate Army. As a private in a Mississippi unit of rebel cavalry, he served courageously and sustained two battle wounds; but in the post-Civil War years, he came to question the racial norms that had propelled his region into the Confederacy. That questioning spirit found its highest expression in the short stories collected in his first book, Old Creole Days (1879), and then in his first novel, The Grandissimes.
Writing in the post-Civil War years, Cable sets The Grandissimes in another time of transition from Louisiana’s history – the era of the Louisiana Purchase (1803), when the city of New Orleans, the future state of Louisiana, and the rest of the vast Louisiana Territory passed from French to American sovereignty. As Cable’s narrator puts it, “It was the year 1804. The world was trembling under the tread of the dread Corsican. It was but now that he had tossed away the whole Valley of the Mississippi, dropping it overboard as a little sand from a balloon, and Christendom in a pale agony of suspense was watching the turn of his eye” (p. 204). This change in sovereignty was distinctly unwelcome to many members of Louisiana’s Creole elite – as surely as the fall of the Confederacy, the end of slavery, and the restoration of the Union had been unwelcome to many white Southerners in Cable’s own time.
In the midst of this tense time of change, the reader is introduced to the Grandissime family and its tangled history through the introduction of an outsider character – one Joseph Frowenfeld (a German-American, like Cable himself), who emigrates to Louisiana after the Purchase, as many other Americans had done back then, in search of new economic opportunities.
He finds those opportunities, but he finds much else as well, starting when he is befriended by one Agricola Fusilier, a planter whose name (agricola is Latin for “farmer,” and fusilier is French for “rifleman”) bespeaks his status as a personification of the Old South’s agrarian/military mindset. Through Agricola, Frowenfeld gets his introduction to the socially prominent Grandissime family, and – fatefully – to the story of Bras-Coupé, an enslaved African prince whose tragic story binds together all of the characters in the novel.
Frowenfeld experiences some initial confusion when he hears about someone named Honoré Grandissime; and that confusion is understandable, as The Grandissimes features two different focal characters who share the same name of Honoré Grandissime. One Honoré Grandissime is a white Creole, a descendant of the original French and Spanish aristocracy that first colonized Louisiana. The other Honoré Grandissime is a free man of color (or f.m.c.), a descendant of illicit unions between the Creole elite and enslaved Africans. Both Honoré Grandissimes are wealthy and influential individuals in their society; but while the Creole Honoré enjoys all the advantages denoted by white skin in the antebellum South, the f.m.c. Honoré occupies an amorphous status – blessed with wealth, but with social status limited by his skin color.
This odd feature of the novel provides context to moments like the one when Agricola Fusilier is stabbed by a mysterious assailant, and the Creole Honoré says to Frowenfeld that “at first I thought [the assailant] was the other Honoré” (p. 101). And it no doubt reflects the widespread late-19th-century interest in the idea of the divided self; Robert Louis Stevenson’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was published just six years after The Grandissimes. But as a literary conceit, it errs on the side of being precious.
The main conflicts in The Grandissimes are twofold. The Grandissime family’s entire fortune rests on assets that were unjustly taken from another Creole family, the De Grapions; the last two members of the De Grapion family, the beautiful Aurore and her equally beautiful daughter Clotilde, live in genteel poverty, and scrape by as best they can. This seems as good a place as any to mention that the Creole Honoré is in love with Aurore, while the outsider Frowenfeld is in love with Clotilde. Cable always seems to have felt that he needed to spice up his story with a love subplot, even if sometimes clumsily.
The main arc of the novel’s narrative centers around the Creole Honoré (whose name, after all, means “honor”) bringing himself around to do right by the wronged De Grapion ladies – even if it risks the Grandissime fortune, and even if it means that his disgruntled relatives will dismiss what the Creole Honoré has done by saying, “We can only say, ‘Farewell! He is gone over to the enemy’” (p. 303). The Creole Honoré does not want anyone to think that he is doing so out of love for Aurore – causing his friend, the tuberculosis-stricken Doctor Keene, to protest that the Creole Honoré has “perpetrated a lot of heroic behavior that would have done honor to four-and-twenty Brutuses; and now that you have a chance to do something easy and human, you shiver and shrink at the ‘looks o’ the thing’” (p. 301).
In the meantime, while all this romantic intrigue goes on among the novel’s white characters, Cable provides regular reminders of the much more difficult lot of African Americans in this antebellum setting. Black characters in the novel are beaten, tortured, maimed, murdered – all of it in accordance with the astonishingly cruel “Slave Code” that had existed in French colonial Louisiana, and was retained in most of its aspects once Louisiana became part of the United States of America. It is a singularly subversive means by which Cable offers social criticism of the Southern racism of his time.
Because Cable was critiquing slavery, fifteen years after slavery had been done away with, his ventures into social criticism in The Grandissimes were considered acceptable, and Cable was lauded as the first great writer of the post-Civil War South. Later in his career, when Cable turned his attention to the segregation system of his own time, and to the ongoing prejudice and violence against African Americans throughout the South, the white South turned on him, and he was compelled to leave New Orleans with his family and relocate to Massachusetts. Yet his portrait of New Orleans and Louisiana in The Grandissimes – with its passages of rich description, its painstaking re-creation of the speech patterns of Louisiana Creoles – lives on. It is a powerful, nuanced, multi-layered novel that brings to life the beautiful, dangerous, paradox-laden social setting that was, and is, New Orleans.
January 5, 2021
George Washington Cable's The Grandissimes is an odd book about Creole life in New Orleans right around the time of the Louisiana Purchase. The city had been under Spanish control for some thirty years, after having been founded by the French. Then, as Napoleon occupied Spain, it became French again for a short time before he decided to sell it (and a whole lot besides) to the United States for $15 million.
The story is seen from the point of view of an American pharmacist of German extraction named Joseph Frowenfeld who finds himself confused by the strict punctilio of human relations between the White Creoles, the Partly White Creoles who are classified as f.p.c. (free persons of color), and the black slaves. Cable himself was quite liberal in his views of the slaves, mulattoes, and quadroons. At one point, he writes:
The forces of conservatism are represented by Agricole Fusilier de Grandissime, who, like many of his like-minded friends, thinks that the American presence in New Orleans will not last, and that the city once again will become French.
There are two characters named Honore Grandissime, who happen to be half brothers. The 100% white brother and his quadroon sibling lead to a lot of confusion, particularly at the beginning of the story, but they come together in an interesting way at the end. Also notable is the character of Palmyre Philosophe, loved by Honore f.p.c., a practitioner of voudou.
As difficult as it sometimes is, The Grandissimes is a delightful book that preceded most of what we call the literature of the South, and influenced it in many ways too numerous to mention. I do believe that William Faulkner must have had a copy of the book close to his bedside.
The story is seen from the point of view of an American pharmacist of German extraction named Joseph Frowenfeld who finds himself confused by the strict punctilio of human relations between the White Creoles, the Partly White Creoles who are classified as f.p.c. (free persons of color), and the black slaves. Cable himself was quite liberal in his views of the slaves, mulattoes, and quadroons. At one point, he writes:
As for us, our feelings, our sentiments, affections, etc., are fine and keen, delicate and many; what we call refined. Why? Because we get them as we get our old swords and gems and laces--from our grandsires, mothers, and all. Refined they are--after centuries of refining. But the feelings handed down to Clemence had come through ages of African savagery; through fires that do not refine, but that blunt and blast and blacken and char; starvation, gluttony, drunkenness, thirst, drowning, nakedness, dirt, fetichism, debauchery, slaughter, pestilence and the rest--she was their heiress; they left her the cinders of human feelings. She remembered her mother. They had been separated in her childhood, in Virginia when it was a province. She remembered, with pride, the price her mother had brought at auction, and remarked, as an additional interesting item, that she had never seen or heard of her since. She had had children, assorted colors--had one with her now, the black boy that brought the basil to Joseph; the others were here and there, some in the Grandissime households or field-gangs, some elsewhere within occasional sight, some dead, some not accounted for. Husbands--like the Samaritan woman's.Much of the dialog in the book is in a weird Franco-Creole-African patois that is hard to follow, but which lends authenticity to the strangeness of the culture circa 1803-1804. The heaviest patois is from the delightful mother/daughter duo of Aurore and Clotilde de Grapion, with whom half the characters in the novel appear to be in love.
The forces of conservatism are represented by Agricole Fusilier de Grandissime, who, like many of his like-minded friends, thinks that the American presence in New Orleans will not last, and that the city once again will become French.
There are two characters named Honore Grandissime, who happen to be half brothers. The 100% white brother and his quadroon sibling lead to a lot of confusion, particularly at the beginning of the story, but they come together in an interesting way at the end. Also notable is the character of Palmyre Philosophe, loved by Honore f.p.c., a practitioner of voudou.
As difficult as it sometimes is, The Grandissimes is a delightful book that preceded most of what we call the literature of the South, and influenced it in many ways too numerous to mention. I do believe that William Faulkner must have had a copy of the book close to his bedside.
June 7, 2012
I wish more people know about and read Cable -- he's really pretty marvellous. The Grandissimes was written later in the 19th century, but is set in 1805, just as control of Louisiana has been handed over to the United States. The Creole gentry is not very cooperative; they resist, they duel, they make each other's lives complicated. The main character, Joseph Frowenfeld (surely that should be spelled Frauenfeld, but nevermind), is a German-American immigrant to New Orleans, who loses his entire family to a cholera outbreak shortly after his arrival. Recovering his health, he opens an apothecary shop and begins to navigate the divide between old and new New Orleans, while retaining his outsider's perspective (anti-slavery, for one thing). For romantic interest, there is a beautiful young widowed mother and her teenaged daughter, struggling with their limited roles in life. (As they are slowly starving to death, the daughter complains that "ladies" are so limited in what they may do -- class as well as gender -- that she could cook, sew, keep accounts, run a shop, but as a "lady" of a certain class, she is not permitted. Her mother suggests that if ladies had more options, they would never agree to marry.) There is also a voudoun practitioner with the wonderful name Palmyre la Philosophe. And most importantly, there are two half-brothers, both named Honore de Grandissime -- one a free man of color, and the other a white man. Although the "f.m.c." Honore (as the text keeps calling him) doesn't come onstage as often as he might, Cable makes the point that his worth is equal to that of his brother; in one of the book's finest moments, the other Honore defies Creole society to affirm this.
On the downside, there's awkward dialect (mostly faux-French, or French-speakers-attempting-English), unfortunate stereotypes, and a plot that's a little more meandering and a little less exciting than it could be. But the picture Cable paints of old New Orleans is vivid and fascinating; the story is well ahead of its time in its positions on race, class, and even gender; and more people should absolutely read this book. Also, as a 19th century work that's long out of copyright, it's readily available as a free etext.
On the downside, there's awkward dialect (mostly faux-French, or French-speakers-attempting-English), unfortunate stereotypes, and a plot that's a little more meandering and a little less exciting than it could be. But the picture Cable paints of old New Orleans is vivid and fascinating; the story is well ahead of its time in its positions on race, class, and even gender; and more people should absolutely read this book. Also, as a 19th century work that's long out of copyright, it's readily available as a free etext.
September 3, 2007
We'll begin with the junior. I like Cable. I really like the way he writes and what he's writing about. I must, of course, tender this statement with a caveat lector, as a man from New Orleans hearing of my home in the old days is something that will always give me particular pleasure. While my enthusiasm for Cable may in part be tied to this, I think he does go a measure beyond.
Cable was about ten years younger than Mark Twain. His innovation in dealing with black characters, (id est, getting past the myth of the happy go lucky slave), was not nearly so inventive as Nigger Jim. On the other hand he was also working in the last generation or two before William Faulkner, and so his use of realism would be overshadowed by that later genius. But, within the spectrum of late 19th century literature, Cable did some fantastic work. Really it's the first time I've found an American writer of that period to produce a page turner. I read The Grandissimes in half a week and that's with my habitual procrastination.
I would almost say Cable was intending a collection of stories here that have been tied together into a single narration. Each chapter could function as a separate unit without only marginal reference to the rest of the novel. While I don't know the man's history I know newspaper serializations were a lot more popular in the 19th century so there's a good chance the medium affected his writing. There is a definite beginning and something resembling an end with the space between serving as a middle, but it's not really a solid ending, lot of the climatic resolutions occur off stage. Honore f. m. c. does taking revenge for Palmyre on stage, but his death, Joseph's proposal, and so on all take place off. Narratively there are some 19th century quirks going on with the voice, but it's not nearly so bad as might be found in Jane Austen and a very far cry from the nonsense of Walter Scott.
This has been a rather uneven review and I expect all the first runs are going to look something like this, just me talking about the book and things that occurred to me. Later on I may do a more detailed review. For now let this suffice. The book is good. I would recommend it to anyone interested in Southern literature, especially if they're curious about the lit before Faulkner. As Cable was one of the few of the era who manages to divorce himself from Scott the resulting work becomes a real pleasure. Beyond that limited scope my recommendation becomes far less frequent. Much as I enjoyed it, it is very much a work of the 19th century and for that reason the pleasure I find is dependent upon my peculiar interests, against the modern scope I really don't see Cable earning that great an audience and if rather than in the 1880s this book were released today it would very likely ensure that his other works would not have made it to the press.
Cable was about ten years younger than Mark Twain. His innovation in dealing with black characters, (id est, getting past the myth of the happy go lucky slave), was not nearly so inventive as Nigger Jim. On the other hand he was also working in the last generation or two before William Faulkner, and so his use of realism would be overshadowed by that later genius. But, within the spectrum of late 19th century literature, Cable did some fantastic work. Really it's the first time I've found an American writer of that period to produce a page turner. I read The Grandissimes in half a week and that's with my habitual procrastination.
I would almost say Cable was intending a collection of stories here that have been tied together into a single narration. Each chapter could function as a separate unit without only marginal reference to the rest of the novel. While I don't know the man's history I know newspaper serializations were a lot more popular in the 19th century so there's a good chance the medium affected his writing. There is a definite beginning and something resembling an end with the space between serving as a middle, but it's not really a solid ending, lot of the climatic resolutions occur off stage. Honore f. m. c. does taking revenge for Palmyre on stage, but his death, Joseph's proposal, and so on all take place off. Narratively there are some 19th century quirks going on with the voice, but it's not nearly so bad as might be found in Jane Austen and a very far cry from the nonsense of Walter Scott.
This has been a rather uneven review and I expect all the first runs are going to look something like this, just me talking about the book and things that occurred to me. Later on I may do a more detailed review. For now let this suffice. The book is good. I would recommend it to anyone interested in Southern literature, especially if they're curious about the lit before Faulkner. As Cable was one of the few of the era who manages to divorce himself from Scott the resulting work becomes a real pleasure. Beyond that limited scope my recommendation becomes far less frequent. Much as I enjoyed it, it is very much a work of the 19th century and for that reason the pleasure I find is dependent upon my peculiar interests, against the modern scope I really don't see Cable earning that great an audience and if rather than in the 1880s this book were released today it would very likely ensure that his other works would not have made it to the press.
January 22, 2024
George Washington Cable was the most prominent Louisiana author of the 19th-century and a purveyor of realism and the "local color" literary regionalism movement. His most enduring novel, The Grandissimes, examines Creole society in 1803 (the year of Louisiana's "'cession" to the United States) through the eyes of recently arrived American immigrant and authorial stand-in, Mr. Frowenfeld, who finds plenty he admires and far more that is backward and repressive. Minor bits of local color, like Cable's writing English dialogue with Creole accents or brief descriptions of scenery and "voudou" rituals, are worthwhile but as a novel I'm afraid it hasn't held up at all: Cable's mastery over his material is terribly lacking, leading to aimless, scattershot plots filled with undeveloped characters and awkward writing going down like lumpy porridge.
February 6, 2018
Lifted above the humdrum by its humane treatment of Louisiana’s dialects, manners, castes.
August 28, 2020
Has anyone in my Goodreads friends read this book? It’s too complicated for me to fully process on my own. I tried starting this book 3 times. It required a lot of attention because of the many languages and dialects, let alone the fact that the two central characters are both named Honoré Grandissime: a white aristocrat, and his half brother, a mixed race free man of color. Once I got the book’s rhythm, it opened up a whole world of colonial New Orleans. Though not quite fitting the genre of an abolitionist text, the way in which it makes its anti slavery case is human-centered, focusing on the love among people of color with a range of proximities to whiteness and citizenship status. As the former French colony becomes a part of America, ideas around racial hierarchies further crystallize.
My thoughts about the book are complicated by knowing that the author fought for the confederacy. After the war, he wrote opposing Jim Crow. Compared to something like Uncle Tom’s Cabin, though, The Grandissimes feels more resonant—a nuanced depiction that renders Black people in full humanity AND critically dissects white supremacist racial logic.
My thoughts about the book are complicated by knowing that the author fought for the confederacy. After the war, he wrote opposing Jim Crow. Compared to something like Uncle Tom’s Cabin, though, The Grandissimes feels more resonant—a nuanced depiction that renders Black people in full humanity AND critically dissects white supremacist racial logic.
July 29, 2016
A classic that needs to be rediscovered
July 21, 2018
This is not a particularly good book, despite its desire to be fair to all the people of Louisiana.
My main problem is the writing style makes everything more confusing than it needs to be. I had quite a bit of trouble just following the revelations of the book about who was related to whom, who was feuding with whom, who needed what, who desired what, ect. Not that this necessarily must be a complaint - I genuinely like complicated stories (𝐴 𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝐼𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒, for example) and can follow them if making the effort is worthwhile. Making the effort for this book is not worthwhile. The "complexity" feels less carefully planned and more an artificial, unintended result of the stilted writing style.
The characters feel like descriptions rather than people due to Cable's tendency to say things rather than show them. Oh, Frowenfeld is pissing the Grandissimes off by promoting equality to their faces? Is it too hard to show that? Why does it feel like I'm reading a second-hand account of the book's own story?
Even when Cable shows, however, the writing style saps the emotion out of whatever is occurring. When Clemence gets caught in that trap the 1.5 pages of begging in broken english that just went on for far to long swiftly torpedoed my sympathy. (Not that there was much to begin with, given that she was introduced so late in the story, and hastily at that).
In short, the book is confusing and uninteresting. I recommend you leave it on the shelf and read something else.
My main problem is the writing style makes everything more confusing than it needs to be. I had quite a bit of trouble just following the revelations of the book about who was related to whom, who was feuding with whom, who needed what, who desired what, ect. Not that this necessarily must be a complaint - I genuinely like complicated stories (𝐴 𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝐼𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒, for example) and can follow them if making the effort is worthwhile. Making the effort for this book is not worthwhile. The "complexity" feels less carefully planned and more an artificial, unintended result of the stilted writing style.
The characters feel like descriptions rather than people due to Cable's tendency to say things rather than show them. Oh, Frowenfeld is pissing the Grandissimes off by promoting equality to their faces? Is it too hard to show that? Why does it feel like I'm reading a second-hand account of the book's own story?
Even when Cable shows, however, the writing style saps the emotion out of whatever is occurring. When Clemence gets caught in that trap the 1.5 pages of begging in broken english that just went on for far to long swiftly torpedoed my sympathy. (Not that there was much to begin with, given that she was introduced so late in the story, and hastily at that).
In short, the book is confusing and uninteresting. I recommend you leave it on the shelf and read something else.
June 14, 2018
An intriguing immersion into early 19th-century New Orleans and an honest look at the city's caste system - with a disdainful attitude that feels strikingly modern, even though this book was first published over a hundred years ago.
Written in sometimes poetic language:
"the drowsy summer's unwillingness to leave the embrace of this seductive land"
and raw wisdom that resonates today:
"It seems to be one of the self-punitive characteristics of tyranny, whether the tyrant be a man, a community, or a caste, to have a pusillanimous fear of its victim."
I found this to be a thoroughly enjoyable read, with quirky characters that feel real, even while encapsulating stereotypes. The story kept me engaged the entire way through.
I discovered this author while researching for a visit to the French Quarter and figured I was in for a mildly interesting regional read that would enlighten with factoids, but it was much more than that. I'm surprised to find it has so few ratings & reviews here. For me, it rates up there with many other favorite classics.
Written in sometimes poetic language:
"the drowsy summer's unwillingness to leave the embrace of this seductive land"
and raw wisdom that resonates today:
"It seems to be one of the self-punitive characteristics of tyranny, whether the tyrant be a man, a community, or a caste, to have a pusillanimous fear of its victim."
I found this to be a thoroughly enjoyable read, with quirky characters that feel real, even while encapsulating stereotypes. The story kept me engaged the entire way through.
I discovered this author while researching for a visit to the French Quarter and figured I was in for a mildly interesting regional read that would enlighten with factoids, but it was much more than that. I'm surprised to find it has so few ratings & reviews here. For me, it rates up there with many other favorite classics.
June 13, 2016
a bit muddled and melodramatic, though not entirely without interest - especially as social history.
October 16, 2018
More interesting from a historical perspective than due to any literary merits. It did come at an interesting time, three years after the end of Reconstruction.
August 3, 2020
I enjoyed this book and got engrossed in the characters, I did however find some of the storylines hard to follow.
November 15, 2018
There is a lot to admire in Cable's work. The attention to detail and language is good. Although he makes a moral argument against racism (very bold for his time and place), he does not fall for our contemporary trap of making all racists the ultimate evil. In a Hollywood film every racist is not just racist, but violent, a wife-beater, stupid, etc. This is ultimately an attempt to make them into the "other" and divorce them from the human experience and deny the dark undertones of what it means to be human. This process is similar to the racist's attempt to define people as the "other" outside of their conception of a "superior humanity." All of this makes Cable's moral message more resonant and his charterers much richer. It is also in keeping with his experience and life. He was a Rebel cavalryman who rode with Forrest to the bitter end, and after the war was a vocal opponent of segregation and racism. Cable fought in the Civil War to defend his home. His honest love of New Orleans and the region resonates with a native like me.
Despite these high marks, the plot is deadly dull and Cable's prose varies from evocative to dull, which is in keeping with the episodic nature of the narrative. The result is a book worthy of admiration and vital to understanding New Orleans history and culture, but it is easy to see why Cable has become more obscure over time.
Despite these high marks, the plot is deadly dull and Cable's prose varies from evocative to dull, which is in keeping with the episodic nature of the narrative. The result is a book worthy of admiration and vital to understanding New Orleans history and culture, but it is easy to see why Cable has become more obscure over time.
September 6, 2024
This is a fascinating book about the world of New Orleans during the Louisiana Purchase. Written by masterful author GW Cable, who was widely respected until this novel, he delves into the issues of caste, slavery, abolition, manumission, rebellion, miscegeny, and more with a late 20th century perspective... by a southern author born in the 1840s writing this in the 1880s. It should be a must read on everyone's list.
Why the four stars instead of five? For the reader's experience. The way that GW Cable notes characters in his novel through dialogue and narrative sometimes leaves a reader confused about who is who and what is whose intent. This can make it a bit of a task to reread passages to make sure what is read is what is meant. An example is the two half brothers - both named Honoré Grandissime (Grandissime surname meaning "great"). There is a very meaningful reason Cable names them the same, but it can handicap the reader throughout if not carefully paying attention.
Why the four stars instead of five? For the reader's experience. The way that GW Cable notes characters in his novel through dialogue and narrative sometimes leaves a reader confused about who is who and what is whose intent. This can make it a bit of a task to reread passages to make sure what is read is what is meant. An example is the two half brothers - both named Honoré Grandissime (Grandissime surname meaning "great"). There is a very meaningful reason Cable names them the same, but it can handicap the reader throughout if not carefully paying attention.
July 18, 2022
This is one of the most fascinating novels about slavery in American literature, but it is not an easy read. Following the Creole French and English patois spoken by novel’s characters can be hard, and the large cast of Grandissimes does not make it any easier (or the fact that two main characters have the same name!). With all that said, I had a hard time putting this down. An indictment of Southern slavery and the Creole resistance to changing their caste system, this novel is as much about the failure of Reconstruction in New Orleans (which was happening contemporaneously with the writing of the book) as it is about the American takeover of the city as a result of the Louisiana Purchase (when the novel is set).
March 28, 2023
This book is the quintessential American novel. Mr. Cable achieves what Stowe and Twain could not, giving humanity and context to all persons in an American novel set in the nineteenth century. No one is a one dimensional figure on a crash course with a terrible destiny. All are imbued with agency and a sense of appropriateness to their actions. Mr. Cable also takes us on a tour of the time in which the novel is set in a way which illuminates the backdrop of society while not taking away from the characters. In some ways he explains many of the idiosyncrasies of the area that persist until today. Rather than indulge comfortable myths he challenges with jarring propositions. This book even inspired Delius to write Koanga. Read to understand or you will miss the point.
October 30, 2024
It's an interesting premise, sort of a realist/proto-impressionist Mark Twain. I enjoyed the pastoral depictions of Louisiana and the grimier ecology of New Orleans (which mirror the book's depiction of the bayou in its attention to decay and putrefaction). The effort to represent Creole life sensitively and naturalistically was singular (even if the French and eye-dialect were nearly unreadable at times). Where things falter is in the depictions of the enslaved. Though GWC argues forcefully against racial/caste prejudice, he cannot ever seem to fully extricate himself from denigrating Black/African lifeways. Case in point, the depiction of Bras-Coupe--his mannerisms, his impressions of America upon his arrival, etc. ...
October 16, 2017
To read this book is to enter into the world of Creoles in New Orleans just after 1800. Written in a wry, witty style, it mixes romance, politics, cultural commentary, and Louisiana history. At times it recalled Shakespeare's A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. In sum, a delightful read, much to my surprise.
December 6, 2017
I found this book intriguing because of when it was written and because of I live in New Orleans. I don't think it would be of general interest. It might have helped that I speak French as some small passages are in French,
July 8, 2018
For those not familiar with 19th century literature, the humor in this book may not be obvious, and without it, the novel probably seems very dry indeed. But Cable's study of racism, nativism, and insular and morally decaying culture is very relevant to modern America.
December 1, 2019
*2.5 stars
An interesting social history and look at nineteenth-century New Orleans. I found myself having to reread portions just to understand what was going on, and I zoned out while reading a lot. This might be due to having to read this as the last book for a class this semester.
An interesting social history and look at nineteenth-century New Orleans. I found myself having to reread portions just to understand what was going on, and I zoned out while reading a lot. This might be due to having to read this as the last book for a class this semester.
November 14, 2019
The Royal Tenenbaums wants what this novel has
February 14, 2021
Deserves a second read, at a future date, to be fully appreciated.
August 9, 2024
A classic tale of racial strife and Creole culture in New Orleans at the time of the Louisiana Purchase. Deftly written.
November 3, 2021
Read this for my Lit 301 American Writers class. This book was a pain to read. The language used was confusing, especially the written accents in various parts of the book. Having two Honore Grandissimes made it easy to mix them up unless it was specified which Honore was which. There is so much going on in this book that almost everyone was confused by it.
April 3, 2017
The back covers of Penguin classics are often bad, but in this case, the claim that The Grandissimes was a precursor to Faulkner is actually the best three-word description of this book for a newcomer. The Grandissimes is an excellent novel, intertwining, cross-racial familial bloodlines and feuds with political and economic concerns. It addresses difficult questions, but perhaps most notably the issues of societal pragmatism and societal integration. The style is also quite accomplished, with moments of witty humor and biting irony alike. The plot advances in fits and starts, told and retold by other characters to add perspective or fill in gaps. Even in narration, Cable is all about the slow reveal, the delayed revelation; as such the reader feels pulled in multiple directions, forward with the plot and backward by the prose (with the languidness of a Creole evening, Cable might say), forward by the progress of time and backward by the cultural heritage. Though the novel takes place some 65 years prior to Cable's writing, it doesn't feel like historical fiction: probably because Cable had been raised in New Orleans halfway between that span and because its concerns were so pertinent to the world of 1879. You will forgive the conventional ending: some of Beethoven's most genius, original pieces, after all, end with the stiffest of conventions.
December 1, 2015
A very challenging novel due to the thick Creole accents it tries to preserve, it's a slice of life with a few of the day's burning issues thrown in at times. I found his characters to be very sweet, particularly Joseph Frowenfeld, Honore Grandissime, and mother-daughter Aurore and Clotilde Nancanou. I know New Orleans has a very distinct culture in America, but this book goes way beyond even that modern perception, showing the city on the verge of coming under American control. It is very foreign and exotic in that era, and it even has a bit of voodoo curses with Palmyre Philosophe and an Indian princess that married into the prominent family that is central to the book. Certainly America in a way you've never seen it before.
December 22, 2009
I really enjoyed this novel. I'm especially interested in its narration. Cable's obviously making some political points along the way, but I'm anti-slavery so I think it's ok... The plot isn't super-tight--in fact the novel ends quite suddenly--but the novel as a whole is an interesting ride. I think I like it because it's different, and therefore refreshing.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 38 reviews