Cane (1923)

This novel by Jean Toomer is short but difficult—I’m not even sure it’s a novel. It struck me as more a montage of poetry, script, and strangely written prose pieces. The first two-thirds is mostly very short pieces, and the last third is one long piece. Toomer is connected with the Harlem Renaissance but it was an association he resisted and rejected. His feelings about his heritage were complicated. His father was born into slavery. But Toomer, understandably enough, already wanted to live in a post-racial society. He identified as “American” and chafed under the “Negro” label. In many ways Cane represents these confusions and resentment. I didn’t get much from it. It seemed to me little more than occasionally interesting fragments and a lot of eccentric prose. Some pieces are written as or include passages set out like lines from a script for a stage play. The last, long section is mostly that. As usual, most poetry is lost on me. I note the rhyme schemes as such and rarely have the patience to parse it out. I’m reading this because it’s on Larry McCaffery’s list, “20th Century’s Greatest Hits: 100 English-Language Books of Fiction.” I see on the internet that Cane was generally liked in its time and after. Langston Hughes liked it. So did Richard Wright. W.E.B. Du Bois, reviewing it, wrote, “Toomer does not impress me as one who knows his Georgia but he does know human beings.” I can see that, in glimpses, but mostly it strikes me as distracted writing. Toomer was working a full-time job while he worked on Cane, principal of the Sparta Agricultural and Industrial Institute in Georgia. Wikipedia classifies Toomer and Cane as “High Modernist,” which maybe explains the weak or nonexistent narrative through-line. The novel it reminds me of most is William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying, also deeply fragmented, in part because of the demands of a full-time job, but with more apparent story to it. I’m willing to take the word of the majority on Cane and think maybe I was in the wrong frame of mind for it. It’s a short book, but could well stand up to the scrutiny of multiple sessions of a reading group. From his biography more than his novel, I feel some affinity with Toomer, human being stuck with a demanding full-time job and the ambition to write.

In case the library is closed due to pandemic, which is over.