This novel does not sugar-coat its message: if you are a White person, especially if you live and/or grew up in the Midwest, you need to take a good, hard look at your assumptions and rethink them. The fact that the story takes place 80s years ago makes no difference—change a couple slang terms, and some of the conversations in this novel could have happened last week.
I think Lewis’s storytelling is particularly effective: he starts off with a snobby (and racist) family from the east coast looking down on Minnesota as a bunch of hicks, which, if you are Midwestern, is an immediate hook, because you have met these types, and you can tsk-tsk at them along with the author. They look around and make all kinds of unfair assumptions, and then one of them, right after a blatantly foreshadowing racist comment, observes that Neil Kingsblood is very handsome. Then we shift to Neil’s comfortable upper-middle-class life in small town Minnesota. At first, Neil comes off as kind of annoying, saying all kinds of cringey racist things and getting way too caught up in pride about his ancestry and social connections, just like the east coast snobs did at the beginning of the story (oops, turns out we all have more in common than we thought!). But the more Neil starts to understand how wrong he was about everything, the more his ignorance starts to look like naivete, and at times he’s almost a sympathetic character. This is especially true when the story becomes highly satirical. For example, his boss does not want Neil to interact with customers because they (not the boss, of course, but other people) might be put off by having to interact with a Black person…even though Neil is a pasty redhead. This is an effective use of satire to underscore how arbitrary the racial caste system is in the US.
But where this book really nails the insidiousness of racism in the Midwest is in the dialog. So many of the social rejections that Neil faces come in the form of ostensibly polite words hiding hostility. Almost every White character at some point says some form of “I’m not prejudiced, but…” and then proceeds to tell a Black character that they are not allowed to do something a White person does. And the whole point of the story is that Neil Kingsblood, naïve White Midwestern everyman, does not understand how bad this is until he is on the receiving end of it. Moreover, he does not grasp the depth of the problem when he is merely kicked out of the snooty conservative men’s club—it’s when he becomes unemployable, disowned by his family, threatened, and, ultimately, attacked so that he can be arrested and jailed that Neil Kingsblood finally understands what segregation really is. (Just to repeat that point: they don’t physically attack him, they threaten him until he must defend himself and his family—they DO injure Vestal—and then they arrest him. Similarly, when all the Black men in town become unemployed, unrest occurs in the Five Points neighborhood, and then police are sent in, threaten them, get attacked by just a few, and arrest many. Sound familiar?)
Still, I’m left wondering if Neil is brave or foolish. For Neil to truly grasp the social injustice, he has to completely change his sense of identity, but this shift of perspective is based on racist assumptions—the whole concept that “even a drop” of Black heritage makes you “tainted.” This makes Neil’s first visits to the Five Points very uncomfortable to read: Neil goes there to indulge in what amounts to a fantasy about himself and his family history, not to learn about others (although he ultimately does). Most of his Black friends and acquaintances warn him not to reveal his heritage publicly, partly for his and his family’s safety, but also because they feel that he could do more good fighting racism as a White man. Which raises a terribly uncomfortable question for White people to consider: could you do that? Clearly, Neil’s entire social circle is racist—from casually racist loved ones and close friends to blatantly racist colleagues and extended family. And, every one of them immediately denies it when someone points it out. Neil eventually outs himself because he can’t stand this ugliness anymore, and he probably assumes that they will change their hearts when they realize that someone they love and/or respect could be considered part of the group they hate. Instead, their hatred is so deeply ingrained that it wins out, and they all shun him. Isn’t this exactly what every White person fears when they keep silent after a colleague tells an off-color joke, or a family member makes a racist assumption? Not only that they could face social consequences (fight with a spouse, trouble at work), but that their efforts wouldn’t even change anything, and they would be stuck with hateful loved ones and colleagues they can’t respect. Neil and his family do not attempt to move; Neil knows that even if he went to a new town where no one knew about his heritage, he would face the same dilemma all over again. Cheery thought, isn’t it?
One final thought. The idea of racial identity has some new implications with the advent of DNA testing. Already stories have come out about people discovering ancestry much like Neil’s, and it turns out to be far more common than previously thought. For some people, this kind of discovery is not a pleasant one. If you’re White, would you be as unsettled as Neil was to make such a discovery? If so, even 80 years after this story took place, it might be worth examining why.