Stuff I Read: John Henry Days by Coulson Whitehead

A freelance journalist vying for an informal record of attending press junkets covers a festival in Talcott, West Virginia celebrating the accomplishments of the legendary steel-driving folk hero, John Henry. In the process, he becomes something of a folk hero himself. We get a glimpse as to how a story of an everyday man becomes a legend in Colson Whitehead’s 2002 novel, John Henry Days.

John Henry Days follows J. Sutter, a Black journalist at the dawn of the internet age, as he’s commissioned by a travel magazine’s website to go to West Virginia for the John Henry Days festival. His assignment: cover the festival, sponsored by the USPS, as the post office prepares to release a stamp commemorating the folk hero. He’s joined by fellow junketeers from the circuit, with colorful nicknames like Frenchy and One-Eye. In the background, Sutter is on the way to becoming a folk hero himself. Either by design or circumstance, J. is well on his way to beating a junketeering record held by Bobby Figgis. That feat, however, is destroying him piece by piece, much like it consumed Bobby Figgis. As J. maneuvers through the weekend festivities, he meets Pamela, a young woman from Harlem. Her personal links to the festival and the legend of John Henry has J. unconsciously reconsider his life and profession. The novel is interspersed with tidbits of John Henry’s more grounded and probably true story before the race that took his life, as well as the ballad that tells the legend. Also sprinkled in throughout the narrative is talk of the aftermath of a mass shooting on the final day of the festival.

Whitehead draws obvious parallels between J. Sutter and John Henry as he examines how legends are made. When he dives into John Henry’s (probable) life, it’s far less exciting than the legend and he’s far more human. It highlights the truth of the last line from The Man Wo Shot Liberty Valance: when the legend becomes fact, print the legend. He also examines the varied meanings a single story can have, depending on ho’s talking and who’s listening. For instance, to the residents of Talcott, the John Henry story is a parable of perseverance against impossible odds and the triumph of an infallible work ethic. To others, particularly the Black characters, it’s a story of exploitation and the Black body as a resource that is only to be used until exhausted. J. Sutter’s burgeoning legend mirrors this. He’s consistently and reliably doing pressers and the cost of his body (by way of the bad food he eats at these things and the terrible beds in low-rent motels) and soul (by way of the inability to form permanent relationships).

Whitehead’s story also serves as commentary on the role death has in shaping a legend. The folklore surrounding John Henry states that his heart gave out beating the steam driver, but the scenes from his life suggest that an illness like the flu might have played a part. Bobby Figgis’ legend is framed by his disappearance from the junketeering circuit, which constitutes a virtual death. It is stated that two journalists and a civilian die in a shooting on the last day of the event, but the victims are never clearly identified. While it’s implied that J. Sutter died in that shooting, it’s impossible to confirm and that leaves his legend open-ended at the close of the book.

I liked that John Henry Days tells a story of small-town America from both the insider’s and outsider’s viewpoint. The rotating perspectives give a varied look at a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town and John Henry’s role in shaping that town’s narrative. A multilayered plot gives a deep dive into the fact, fiction, and good (or bad) fiction that goes into becoming a legend.

I wasn’t a fan of the novel’s execution, however. Granted, this is a 20-year-old book, and sensibilities about these things tend to change over time, but the storytelling here is painfully slow. This is a decidedly character-driven story, so not a lot happens over the course of the festival. But the way this book meanders from plot point to plot point undermines the development of these characters. What’s the point of having such fleshed out and detailed characters if they don’t actually do anything? Also, Colson Whitehead is guilty of the sin of literary stunt work by putting in an 11-page paragraph. It’s a full chapter, no line breaks, an extended block of text with no indents. I hate when writers do this as the way it’s structured pulls me out of the story, and always feels like the writer is trying to say “Look at what I can do!” While it’s not as egregious as the nine-page sentence I complain about whenever I get the chance, it’s still difficult to read and hurts my eyes a bit.

John Henry Days is an intriguing look into the stories that become legend. However, slow pacing and some literary stunt work derail an otherwise pleasant look at Americana.

Pros: Solid premise and well-written overall. Makes one question the truth behind long-held and oft-told legends as well as the consequences of being a workaholic.

Cons: Molasses-slow pacing, some literary stunt work.

Rating: 2 out of 5 stars.