A Memorable Journey into the Soul of America
In Tick Cooper by John Vance, the reader takes an evocative and unforgettable journey down the Mississippi in November, 1860 – the time when America was at the cusp of Civil War. As told through plain-spoken eloquence of the wide-eyed, fast thinking, rash-acting Tick Cooper, this novel works on many levels: as a rousing adventure, a revealing historical novel, and an astute social commentary on the wild swings of good and evil so prevalent in the American sensibility.
Let me make clear that even with these layers, Tick Cooper is a fun, entertaining, and very accessible read. Like its great precursor The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Tick Cooper captures the voice of Middle America with a simple honesty and intuitive insight that can come from the best of 12-year-olds, which our protagonist just happens to be. Tick responds viscerally and instinctively to injustice, fighting with both his words and his fists against myriads acts of wrongdoing. While some of the misbehaviors Tick encounters are the stuff of teenage boys testing their limits, particularly the mischief of the little gang of poorer boys on the riverboat, Vance deftly captures a period where the laws, most particularly the Fugitive Slave Act, lead to terrible acts of cruelty. Through Tick’s unadorned narrative, Vance unravels layers of his story – of sex, racism, violence, and hypocrisy – to which Tick is initially oblivious, but his perceptions expand exponentially in the two months-long journey that propels him to a precocious maturity and an awareness fast transforming into wisdom.
This novel is filled with surprises, including poignant tragedies, disarming scenes of humor, and one particularly famous figure at a moral crossroads. The story is so steeped in its time and its river, both of which possess their fair share of treacheries, that the narrative twists are not only believable, but seem inevitable. Late in the novel, the moral issues and the novel’s dramatic possibilities come to a head in Tick’s dilemma (shared with the troubled slave owner Robert Ewell) of what to do with Clarissa, a freed black girl who’d been enslaved again in the South. That final journey is stirring as are so many others during which we encounter our share of disturbing villains (Simpson is especially memorable), lively smart young women (particularly Jinny), and kinder figures (like Ewell, Ezekiel, and Uncle Ned) who serve to restore a reader’s faith in humanity.
All along the way, Tick does enough wrong to better understand the value of right. Early on Tick confesses, “Aunt Clara would always tell me I never looked before I leaped, but I couldn’t help it.” Well, when it comes to diving into Tick Cooper, I’d take the leap. It gave me many hours of reading pleasure, and, matching up its own divided times with ours, much to contemplate.