Narrator Ethan Herisse gives a subtle heartbreaking performance in this previously unpublished novel by Richard Wright. Fred Daniels is returning home from work to his pregnant wife when he is accosted by police and tortured into a false confession. Escaping into the sewer, Daniels wanders underground in an allegorical fever dream that mirrors the state of midcentury Black America. Since the story is largely internal and surreal, Herisse gives Daniels an understated tone as he struggles to comprehend his circumstances and actions while living in the sewer. This allows the scenes in which Daniels encounters others, especially the police, to crackle with terror and confusion. Herisse returns to steady assuredness in the accompanying essay, “Memories of My Grandmother,” and the afterword by Malcolm Wright, Richard’s grandson. N.M. © AudioFile 2021, Portland, Maine
The Man Who Lived Underground
Narrated by Ethan Herisse
Richard WrightUnabridged — 6 hours, 45 minutes
The Man Who Lived Underground
Narrated by Ethan Herisse
Richard WrightUnabridged — 6 hours, 45 minutes
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Overview
It’s hard to tell what’s more shocking: The nature of the story when it was written or just how pertinent it is today. Maybe these points are equally so — which means you have a couple great reasons to delve into this unearthed classic.
New York Times*Bestseller ¿ One of the Best Books of the Year by*Time*magazine, the*Chicago Tribune, the*Boston Globe,*and*Esquire,*and one of*Oprah's 15 Favorite Books of the Year
Read by actor Ethan Herisse
From the legendary author of Native Son and Black Boy, the novel he was unable to publish during his lifetime-an explosive story of racism, injustice, brutality, and survival. ""Not just Wright's masterwork, but also a milestone in African American literature . . . One of those indispensable works that reminds all its readers that, whether we are in the flow of life or somehow separated from it, above- or belowground, we are all human."" (Gene Seymour, CNN.com)
“The Man Who Lived Underground reminds us that any `greatest writers of the 20th*century' list that doesn't start and end with Richard Wright is laughable. It might very well be Wright's most brilliantly crafted, and ominously foretelling, book.”-Kiese Laymon
Fred Daniels, a Black man, is picked up by the police after a brutal double murder and tortured until he confesses to a crime he did not commit. After signing a confession, he escapes from custody and flees into the city's sewer system.
This is the devastating premise of Richard Wright's scorching novel, The Man Who Lived Underground, written between his landmark books*Native Son*(1940) and*Black Boy*(1945), at the height of his creative powers. Now, for the first time, by special arrangement between the Library of America and the author's estate, the full text of the work that meant more to Wright than any other (“I have never written anything in my life that stemmed more from sheer inspiration”) is published in the form that he intended, complete with his companion essay, “Memories of My Grandmother.” Malcolm Wright, the author's grandson, contributes an afterword.
Editorial Reviews
02/08/2021
The power and pain of Wright’s writing are evident in this wrenching novel, which was rejected by his publisher in 1942, shortly after the release of Native Son. Fred Daniels, a Black man who lives in an unidentified American city, is on his way home after a hard day’s work for the Wootens, a well-to-do white couple. Before he can reunite with his pregnant wife, Rachel, Daniels is unjustly seized by three white cops for the murder of the Wootens’ next-door neighbors. After he’s beaten, Daniels signs a confession, naively hoping that doing so will enable him to see Rachel. The cops take him to see her (“No one can say we mistreated him if we let ’im see his old lady, hunh?” one says), and she goes into labor, necessitating a rush to the hospital, which provides an opportunity for Daniels to escape. From that point forward, Daniels hides out in the sewers. Wright makes the impact of racist policing palpable as the story builds to a gut-punch ending, and the inclusion of his essay “Memories of My Grandmother” illuminates his inspiration for the book. This nightmarish tale of racist terror resonates. (Apr.)
"Not just Wright's masterwork, but also a milestone in African American literature . . . The Man Who Lived Underground is one of those indispensable works that reminds all its readers that, whether we are in the flow of life or somehow separated from it, above- or belowground, we are all human." —Gene Seymour, CNN.com
"It's impossible to read Wright’s novel without thinking of this 21st-century moment. . . . Wright deserves sensitive reconsideration, especially now that so many of us have been proved naive in our belief that an honest rendering of Black people might lead to recognition of our existence in the universality of humanity." —Imani Perry, The Atlantic
"Moves continuously forward with its masterful blend of action and reflection, a kind of philosophy on the run. . . . Whether or not The Man Who Lived Underground is Wright’s single finest work, it must be counted among his most significant."
—Clifford Thompson, The Wall Street Journal
“Enthralling. . . . You could say that the book’s release now is timely, given that it contains an account of police torture. . . . But that feels false because Wright’s story would have been just as relevant if it had been released 10 years ago or 30, 50, or 80—when he composed it. . . . Maybe, then, it’s more accurate to think of The Man Who Lived Underground as timeless rather than timely.” —The New Republic
"Resonates deeply as a story about race and the struggle to envision a different, better world. A welcome literary resurrection that deserves a place alongside Wright’s best-known work."
—Kirkus (starred review)
"Finally, this devastating inquiry into oppression and delusion, this timeless tour de force, emerges in full, the work Wright was most passionate about, as he explains in the profoundly illuminating essay, 'Memories of My Grandmother,' also published here for the first time. This blazing literary meteor should land in every collection."
—Booklist (starred review)
"The power and pain of Wright’s writing are evident in this wrenching novel. . . . Wright makes the impact of racist policing palpable as the story builds to a gut-punch ending, and the inclusion of his essay 'Memories of My Grandmother' illuminates his inspiration for the book. This nightmarish tale of racist terror resonates." —Publishers Weekly
"This astonishing novel [is at last] available to readers, fulfilling a dream Wright wasn't able to realize in his lifetime." —OprahDaily.com
"To read The Man Who Lived Underground today — it arrives on April 20, intact for the first time, published by the posterity-minded Library of America — is to recognize an author who knew his work could be shelved for decades without depreciation. Because this is America. Because police misconduct, to use the genteel 2021 term, is ageless. Check the copyright page, read the production notes: Yes, this was written in 1941. Yes, it’s 80 years later. Yes, Wright died in 1960, at 52, having never scaled again the commercial heights of Native Son. Yet somehow The Man Who Lived Underground found its way into bookstores at the right time." —The Chicago Tribune
"This is a significant work of literary fiction from a legendary author that’s absolutely not to be missed." —Book Riot
The Man Who Lived Underground reminds us that any ‘greatest writers of the 20th century’ list that doesn’t start and end with Richard Wright is laughable. It might very well be Wright’s most brilliantly crafted, and ominously foretelling, book.”
"Never did Wright approach race more directly than in The Man Who Lived Underground."
Propulsive, haunting. . . . The graphic, gripping book ends with a revealing companion essay that further explains the themes of this searing novel.
"Like a telegram from mid-century America warning us about our very present, Richard Wright’s novel arrived with the shock of recognition for readers in the midst of a reckoning with racial injustice."
"It's impossible to read Wright’s novel without thinking of this 21st-century moment. . . . Wright deserves sensitive reconsideration, especially now that so many of us have been proved naive in our belief that an honest rendering of Black people might lead to recognition of our existence in the universality of humanity."
"A tale for today. . . . [Wright's] restored novel feels wearily descriptive of far too many moments in contemporary America."
"Finally, this devastating inquiry into oppression and delusion, this timeless tour de force, emerges in full, the work Wright was most passionate about, as he explains in the profoundly illuminating essay, 'Memories of My Grandmother,' also published here for the first time. This blazing literary meteor should land in every collection."
"Not just Wright's masterwork, but also a milestone in African American literature . . . The Man Who Lived Underground is one of those indispensable works that reminds all its readers that, whether we are in the flow of life or somehow separated from it, above- or belowground, we are all human."
"Never did Wright approach race more directly than in The Man Who Lived Underground."
Narrator Ethan Herisse gives a subtle heartbreaking performance in this previously unpublished novel by Richard Wright. Fred Daniels is returning home from work to his pregnant wife when he is accosted by police and tortured into a false confession. Escaping into the sewer, Daniels wanders underground in an allegorical fever dream that mirrors the state of midcentury Black America. Since the story is largely internal and surreal, Herisse gives Daniels an understated tone as he struggles to comprehend his circumstances and actions while living in the sewer. This allows the scenes in which Daniels encounters others, especially the police, to crackle with terror and confusion. Herisse returns to steady assuredness in the accompanying essay, “Memories of My Grandmother,” and the afterword by Malcolm Wright, Richard’s grandson. N.M. © AudioFile 2021, Portland, Maine
★ 2021-03-17
A falsely accused Black man goes into hiding in this masterful novella by Wright (1908-1960), finally published in full.
Written in 1941 and '42, between Wright’s classics Native Sonand Black Boy, this short novel concerns Fred Daniels, a modest laborer who’s arrested by police officers and bullied into signing a false confession that he killed the residents of a house near where he was working. In a brief unsupervised moment, he escapes through a manhole and goes into hiding in a sewer. A series of allegorical, surrealistic set pieces ensues as Fred explores the nether reaches of a church, a real estate firm, and a jewelry store. Each stop is an opportunity for Wright to explore themes of hope, greed, and exploitation; the real estate firm, Wright notes, “collected hundreds of thousands of dollars in rent from poor colored folks.” But Fred’s deepening existential crisis and growing distance from society keep the scenes from feeling like potted commentaries. As he wallpapers his underground warren with cash, mocking and invalidating the currency, he registers a surrealistic but engrossing protest against divisive social norms. The novel, rejected by Wright’s publisher, has only appeared as a substantially truncated short story until now, without the opening setup and with a different ending. Wright's take on racial injustice seems to have unsettled his publisher: A note reveals that an editor found reading about Fred’s treatment by the police “unbearable.” That may explain why Wright, in an essay included here, says its focus on race is “rather muted,” emphasizing broader existential themes. Regardless, as an afterword by Wright’s grandson Malcolm attests, the story now serves as an allegory both of Wright (he moved to France, an “exile beyond the reach of Jim Crow and American bigotry”) and American life. Today, it resonates deeply as a story about race and the struggle to envision a different, better world.
A welcome literary resurrection that deserves a place alongside Wright’s best-known work.
Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940177045689 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | HarperCollins |
| Publication date: | 04/20/2021 |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
Read an Excerpt
The door of the police car swung open quickly and the man behind the steering wheel stepped out; immediately, as though following in a prearranged signal, the other two policemen stepped out and the three of them advanced and confronted him. They patted his clothing from his head to his feet.
“What’s your name?” asked the policeman who had been called Lawson.
“Fred Daniels, sir.”
“Ever been in trouble before, boy?” Lawson said.
“No, sir.”
“Where you think you’re going now?”
“I’m going home.”
“Where you live?”
“On East Canal, sir.”
“Who you live with?”
“My wife.”
Lawson turned to the policeman who stood at his right. “We’d better drag ’im in, Johnson.”
“But, Mister!” he protested in a high whine. “I ain’t done nothing . . .”
“All right, now,” Lawson said. “Don’t get excited.”
“My wife’s having a baby . . .”
“They all say that. Come on,” said the red-headed man who had been called Johnson.
A spasm of outrage surged in him and he snatched backward, hurling himself away from them. Their fingers tightened about his wrists, biting into his flesh; they pushed him toward the car.
“Want to get tough, hunh?”
“No, sir,” he said quickly.
“Then get in the car, Goddammit!”
He stepped into the car and they shoved him into the seat; two of the policemen sat at either side of him and hooked their arms in his. Lawson got behind the steering wheel. But, strangely, the car did not start. He waited, alert but ready to obey.
“Well, boy,” Lawson began in a slow, almost friendly tone, “looks like you’re in for it, hunh?”
Lawson’s enigmatical voice made hope rise in him.
“Mister, I ain’t done nothing,” he said. “You can ask Mrs. Wooten” back there. She just paid me off and I was on my way home . . .” His words sounded futile and he tried another approach. “Look, Mister, I’m a member of the White Rock Baptist Church. If you don’t believe me, call up Reverend Davis . . .”
“Got it all figured out, ain’t you, boy?”
“No, sir,” he said, shaking his head emphatically. “I’m telling the truth . . . “
A series of questions made him hopeful again.
“What’s your wife’s name?”
“Rachel, sir.”
“When is this baby going to be born?”
“Any minute now, sir.”
“Who’s with your wife?”
“My cousin, Ruby.”
“Uh huh,” Lawson said, with slow thoughtfulness.
“I think he’ll do, Lawson,” said the tall, raw-boned policeman who had not spoken before.
Lawson laughed and started the motor.
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