Originally published in 1977, White Rat contains twelve provocative tales that explore the emotional and mental terrain of a diverse cast of characters, from the innocent to the insane.In each, Jones displays her unflinching ability to dive into the most treacherous of psyches and the title story examines the identity and relationship conundrums of a black man who can pass for white, earning him the name “White Rat” as an infant; “The Women” follows a girl whose mother brings a line of female lovers to live in their home; “Jevata” details eighteen-year-old Freddy’s relationship with the fifty-year-old title character; “The Coke Factory” tracks the thoughts of a mentally handicapped adolescent abandoned by his mother; and “Asylum” focuses on a woman having a nervous breakdown, trying to protect her dignity and her private parts as she enters an institution.In uncompromising prose, and dialect that veers from northern, educated tongues to down-home southern colloquialisms, Jones illuminates lives that society ignores, moving them to center stage.
Gayl Jones is an African-American writer from Lexington, Kentucky. Her most famous works are Corregidora, Eva's Man, and The Healing.
Jones is a 1971 graduate of Connecticut College, where she received her Bachelor of Arts degree in English. While attending the college she also earned the Frances Steloff Award for Fiction. She then began a graduate program in creative writing at Brown University, studying under poet Michael Harper and earning a Master of Arts in 1973 and a Doctor of Arts in 1975.
Harper introduced Jones's work to Toni Morrison, who was an editor at the time, and in 1975, Jones published her first novel Corregidora at the age of 26. That same year she was a visiting lecturer at the University of Michigan, which hired her the following year as an assistant professor. She left her faculty position in 1983 and moved to Europe, where she wrote and published Die Vogelfaengerin (The Birdwatcher) in Germany and a poetry collection, Xarque and Other Poems. Jones's 1998 novel The Healing was a finalist for the National Book Award, although the media attention surrounding her novel's release focused more on the controversy in her personal life than on the work itself. Her papers are currently housed at the Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University. Jones currently lives in Lexington, Kentucky, where she continues to write.
Jones has described herself as an improvisor, and her work bears out that statement: like a jazz or blues musician, Jones plays upon a specific set of themes, varying them and exploring their possible permutations. Though her fiction has been called “Gothic” in its exploration of madness, violence, and sexuality, musical metaphors might make for a more apt categorization.
As with any collection of short stories, not everything hit the mark for me, but when she does she is spectacular. Her use of voice in particular continues to be deeply impressive.
Jones works best at novel length, and I cannot shake the feeling that some of these go back to her college years. While some are tremendous, she is as much a born novelist as I am a cigarette smoker. The result: middling-to-brilliant; fitting for someone whose best work requires a much larger canvas.
(That cover though? Man, that is the epitome of one cool looking dust jacket. Woooo-weeeeeee.)
Jones is a versatile, striking storyteller. This is her first collection, and, brevity notwithstanding, its braided stories are rich and world-containing, rough and queer and many-voiced. While I doubt anything will beat the book Mosquito for my favorite Jones, each of her books is its own powerful historical meditation, where legacies of cultural and familial violence meet contemporary relationships. Often, including in this text, this meeting manifests as Madness, and I am always impressed by the experiential knowledge Jones conveys with subtle certainty.
I won’t make too big of a deal of Jones’s erasure from 20th century literary genealogies, especially queer/Mad ones — nor my frustration at discourses of (white) (re)discovery of her work — I mean, she was edited by Toni Morrison, her “disappearance” from the archive could not be anything but intentional. Still, I wish that positive reviews of her work did not belabor her invisibility, if only because they further reinforce it/erase ongoing efforts to reissue her work decades after it was first released. Read this, and the rest of her oeuvre, not to check a box but on the basis of its own merit and spectacular innovation.
This is an eye-opener from a different demographic that no one wants to speak about. There are twelve short stories from the rural areas of this country to college campuses. The telling in the vernacular of the people must be read out loud to completely comprehend.
The story "Jevata" with Miss Johnny Cakes who sits on her porch watching Jevata and Freddy. I know people like her who are meddlesome or nosey. The story "The Women". I am speechless. In this demography and time in history puberty was very difficult for young black girls. It seems they had very little guidance from home, school, or church....They were left to figure it out for themselves.
The "Asylum" was insane. "The Coke Factory" Ricky had no one but himself. "The Return: A Fantasy" has taken religion too far. "The Roundhouse" a happy ending. "Legend" myths live on or was it a myth. I tend to believe the myth. "A Quiet Place For The Summer". It reminds us no place is ever quiet. "Version 2" more insanity. I did like this book overall.
Quotes:
So I look around at him and haul off cause I'm goin hit him and then some man grab me and say, "He keep a blade," but that don't make me no different and I say, "A spade don't need a blade."
But it was not an uncomfortable silence, a natural one.
"You know you a fool, don't you?" she asked again, still looking like she was in church.
I can't tell you that, but we can tell you're an intelligent person even thought you didn't have a lot of formal education.
I'm not sure that all of those pieces work as short stories but in lesser hands, I suspect they might have been disastrous. Gayl Jones' faith in the culture and history of Black Americans is moving and of course, ripe with stories that are aching to be recorded because in real life, for a number of characters such as the ones in these stories, there is perhaps no language to voice their pains. Jones gives as much consideration, lucidity and dignity to those who wrestle mental illness and trauma as those who--on the surface anyway--do not. Aside from exploring racial and historical legacies, a number of these stories also tackle sexual identity and its impact of bystanders--most notably the girl narrator in 'The Women,' whose sexuality blossoms as her mother's affairs with different women increase over time. This is perhaps why the language, and especially the narrative structure, of those stories defy convention in order to mirror internal chaos and the narrators' attempts to make sense of it all--including the tension between the uneducated, and the professors and doctors who want to define them. Although bleak and stark, these stories are not devoid of light; as Jones herself has stated: "the answer sometimes comes in the telling."
This collection of short stories was quintessential Jones in this genre of prose fiction. The relentless in-your-face sexuality, examination of the lasting legacy of racial identity, a range of idiomatic speeches, and deep dive into the minds of her characters.
Aside from the typical range, one is familiar with Jones, as powerfully displayed in CORREGIDORA and EVA'S MAN, I appreciated the stories that went against the traditional and cultural backdrops of the South. The story "The Roundhouse" about a nearly mute, racially ambiguous protagonist named Jake forging a relationship was as conventional as they come and "A Quite Place for The Summer" about a student staying her professors house depicted a less brutalist style forwards healing and love. Honestly, a breath of fresh air from Jones. In ranking these works I have to admit this is my least favorite by a slight margin because it was a short. The characterization was not as flushed and some of the stories didn't entirely work for me. Above all, readers of Jones will appreciate this collection.
I enjoy short stories because instead of having a beginning, middle, and end, it's just the middle. But there's still a finality to each story that makes it feel complete when you finish reading it. This book of stories is very well written, and uses so many different voices and personalities it's amazing that it's so easily bundled up into one book.
Gayl Jones' amazing sense of voice permeates all the of the stories included here, and there were some generally wonderful highlights (White Rat, The Women, Asylum, The Coke Factory, The Roundhouse, A Quiet Place for the Summer) that handle race, neurodivergence, sexuality both heteronormative and queer, and, of course, even more of her complexity difficult relationships. There were some duds that weren't disastrous and even had some fascinating choices, but they just didn't work at all emotionally or thematically enough for me, which I think is more of an issue, because I expect so much from Jones after having loved the three novels of hers I've read so intensely. This feels like more of an early formative bridge between Eva's Man to The Healing in its application of dialect, so there's an interestingly visible trajectory she is going on as an author as you read through this slim collection. Alas, even the least successful Gayl Jones is more successful than most authorial careers.
I received a copy of this book for free in a Goodreads giveaway.
Twelve short stories of very different lengths and styles that was overall pretty readable. Despite being published in the 1970s, these stories tackle topics that were likely more taboo back then, like homosexuality and mental illness. The ones that stuck with me were the longer ones, though, and some of the shorter ones were very forgettable, and I often felt like they just ended without anything really happening. The one that I remember the most after going through the book is "The Women," told from the point of view of a girl witnessing her mother go through multiple female lovers while exploring her own sexuality. The dialect varies from story to story, which was impressive in how they all seemed authentic and with a real voice behind each one. This did cause some of them to be a lot less readable than others, though, but I suppose that was part of the point, to present some of the stories in voices that typically don't get a lot of exposure. I'm sure a lot of this collection went over my head, especially the shorter stories, but I appreciated its brevity and variety. The stories on the shorter side just didn't work for me, though.
cutting prose with at a lightning pace - while tempting to sit and read all at once due to the length, the experience was (admittedly) disorienting. imagine being rocketed between psychic realms operating in varying vernacular voices (!1!) - a testament to Jones’ versatility, the longest and shortest stories seem to shine the most. favorites: The Women, Persona, Legend