Nonsense Broadcasting Company (NBC)
Can you imagine how pissed off a high school English student in the 70s would feel if their teacher assigned them to read a book titled “Nonsense”? Mumbo Jumbo is a book that practically begs the reader to be frustrated with it. It is filled with pictures that have little to no relation to what’s happening in the book, a second chapter 52, and plenty of moments of near-deus-ex-machina in little disguise. It's only a novel in the sense that between side stories and meals of non-poisonous snakes it has words on a page that resemble a plot. I hope it is clear that this book annoys me. But I think that we’re all reading Mumbo Jumbo wrong — it was a TV show this whole time! Let me explain.
Fade in from black.
New Orleans, 1920s. The mayor is staying late for work. The telephone rings. The mayor’s presence is required at the church. Jes Grew has come alive. Oh dear.
[THEME MUSIC PLAYS]
[OPENING CREDITS ROLL]
Narrator: With the astonishing rapidity of Booker T. Washington’s Grapevine Telegraph Jes Grew spreads through America…
You get the idea.
Mumbo Jumbo is littered with images and newspaper clippings, some more pertinent than others. A few give information about what’s going on in the book at the time, and one informs the reader that, should we wish to declare our soul to rock and roll, it is perfectly acceptable to climb up onto the stage as it is virtually indestructible (page 168). However, most are seemingly unrelated pictures that only serve to confuse the reader. Some of them portray what appears to be some traditional African garb (page 161 specifically), but I don’t know nearly enough about Voodoo/Hoodoo/African traditions to say anything more than that. Probably your typical reader doesn’t, either. On some level, they may foreshadow or recap events of the book (the rock and roll one might be a reference to Moses’ concert). I believe that these are the book’s advertisements. Sure, most of them don’t want to sell us anything (although the Cotton Club Parade playbill on 118 wouldn’t be out of place as an ad), but let’s remember that Ishmael Reed is playing by his own rules here. Maybe you could say that no advertisers wanted to show their products during his unusual programming, and he instead wanted to fill the airtime with his own images.
We’ve already discussed the cartoonish nature of the Wallflower order asking Hinkle to end Jes Grew (or else…) and the chase of its suspected text, only to find that it has been lost in the mail! What a silly plot twist! You can hear the chuckle in Abdul Hamid’s narration when the camera pans to his letter as Labas reads it. Another trope Reed really plays into that we haven’t discussed as much is the all-knowing Hierophants who watch the action from their futuristic and villainous rotating lair with futuristic technology. During my reading I couldn’t stop imagining Emperor Palpatine in the death star musing from behind a shadowy hood. And as all hope is lost at the end of the book, once Jes Grew has begun dissolving at the revelation that there is no book inside the box, the parents of the children Hubert Gould had been spying on earlier appear to make his true identity known. What a resolution. These examples almost write themselves as TV tropes.
Tropes aside, the plot of Mumbo Jumbo is very simple, and driven by several elements that the reader doesn’t have a solid explanation for. We are thrust into the middle of a typical day at the Mumbo Jumbo Kathedral, where Papa Labas is conveniently explaining the context required to understand the events to come (page 24). How does he know these things? His Knockings, of course, which provide him with the basis of his investigation into Abdul Hamid’s text and Hinckle Von Vampton. We’re just supposed to believe him, of course. At the end of the book, Labas’s suspicions are confirmed by some Haitians who conveniently arrive to explain the details to him. It’s more than a little bit of deus ex machina, but we believe it anyway because of how silly the rest of the book has been.
As long as the themes of the book align with one another and the book doesn’t stray outside its genre too far, once we are used to it, Reed can make us believe anything. As with many TV shows, this book is written through stereotypes. Reed can paint a picture of a character in our minds' eyes well just by feeding us a few small details about each character, including their name, and our monkey brains will in the rest. We’re able to cut in and out of scenes without much explanation because Reed has written a book in a style like a TV show, with 3-5 minute bites of action that start and conclude within a chapter. And this punchy style helps get us to believe these stereotypes, as we get to know each character well but not long enough to be immersed in them long enough for the illusion to break down. We learn the most from the book’s action and visuals rather than the characters' inner psyche.
And despite everything that Papa Labas goes through, 50 years after the outbreak and subsidence of Jes Grew, we still get a happy ending. Labas, the now wise old man who was right the first time, just knows that it might happen again. He can see it. We end with a wistful and uplifting moment. Sequel, anyone? We get some more shot directions to end the book (Locomobile rear moving towards neoned Manhattan skyline. Skyscrapers gleam like magic trees. Freeze frame) as I can practically hear a smooth saxophone solo crescendo into the show’s end credits.
Now that I think of it, Mumbo Jumbo really is kinda just cartoony. I mean, if we just zoom out and not focus too hard on the details of the story, a disease that makes people dance is spreading across America, and a group of fun-hating, inorganic, sterile people want to stop it. Then we take a look at the ridiculous, almost tropey names that we see in the story, one such example being "Biff Musclewhite," or "Hinckle Von Hampton." I think the most TV-like moment is just the very long, Scooby-Doo-esque explanation of the history of Jes Grew, Atonism, Wallflower Order, etc.
ReplyDeleteThis book does feel a lot like a cartoon in the way we tend to digest it. When I was reading it, I often found myself stepping back or not giving acute attention to each detail within the text, almost treating it informally, in the way that I would a cartoon or comic book. It is interesting to visualize what this book might be like with images or illustrations which actually paired with the content of the text, however, I think that part of its magic and essential confusion comes from the fact that the reader has to fill in the gaps on their own without the help of visual aids. On this same note, it would be interesting to unpack the significance of the different images spliced throughout the reading and decipher their meaning in relation to the text. A lot of them are seemingly unrelated (and maybe that's the point), but perhaps there is something deeper to get out in terms of the origin or message or they get across and how it relates to the book's own message. Either way, I think the book's cartoonish handling of the events of the story is part of the reason why it is able to so powerfully depict the essence of Jes Grew while simultaneously mocking the seriousness and exaggerate (but also not) the unrelenting efforts of white conservative organizations which seem to shoot down any chance at change or the emergence of new ideas within culture.
ReplyDeleteThis is a really interesting way of interpreting the unique structure of Mumbo Jumbo. I had the same emotional reaction as you when I started reading the novel, and by the end of the first reading I was getting nearly angry at the author for making me suffer through the semi-gibberish. But on my walk back to Uni after the first class discussion, I realized that my reaction to the book was similar to the Wallflower Order's treatment of Jes Grew. Just how much I was annoyed at the unconventional aspects of the book showed me how entrenched I was in the "Wallflower Order" way of things--the standard, primarily western set of rules and standards for the "proper" and implicitly "superior" ways of doing things. Because Mumbo Jumbo was cutting across all the lines of what I thought a "real" book should be like, I naturally classified it as a frustrating piece of text when, from another perspective, the novel's structure could also be viewed as rather playful and jazzy (I was being a literal wallflower in the party of Reed's narrative).
ReplyDeleteThis didn't come up in class, because this section in general didn't seem too worked up about the weird formatting and stylistic choices Reed makes in this book, but I totally agree that the opening scene reads precisely like the opening scene in a disaster movie, or a superhero movie, where the crisis is just emerging and it's time to put up the Bat-signal. The dialogue reads like a B-movie, and some of Reed's descriptions literally refer to film-noir and other cinematic conventions.
ReplyDeleteIn previous iterations of this class, we've even compared the opening chapter, followed by the credits, to the conventions that have emerged in film in recent decades (SINCE the publication of this novel, interestingly) where a movie often opens with a precipitating scene like this (the pandemic is just emerging! the first cases are being spotted, and officials don't know what to do!), followed by the titles and opening credits (with music), before getting into the main narrative. Reread the sequence from chapter 1, through the publication frontmatter, into chapter 2 and beyond--it really moves in a way that evokes the opening of so many contemporary movies. And of course, the novel ends with a cinematic image of LaBas driving back to Manhattan, literally ending in a "freeze-frame" (we can imagine the "Partial Bibliography" that follows as akin to the closing credits). Cue the saxophone! And make sure it's a good Jes Grew musician, like Charlie Parker or John Coltrane.
This was a really interesting way of interpreting the novel. I agree with you, when I really think of it Mumbo Jumbo is filled with corny moments that you would typically only find on a TV show. Even the names are silly and non-sensical. Also, while reading the novel I had a similar reaction as you, I was frustrated and I constantly felt like Reed was just using this book as a huge F you to the reader, but as the novel progressed and the plot unfolded I began to kind of (KIND OF) enjoy the novel. Anywho, great post!
ReplyDeleteI agree that in a lot of ways this book is like some kind of tv show or cartoon. Stylistically it's interesting how Reed keeps swapping perspectives and throwing in seemingly unrelated images and pieces of other sources. There's also the scooby-doo like unmasking scene at the end and the fact that the book literally ends on a freeze frame of papa LaBas driving off into the sunset. The whole dynamic between the wallflower order and jes grew is also kind of cartoonish as well since it's essentially just the fun police against popular culture.
ReplyDeleteNow that you mention it, many of the tropes in Jes Grew are kind of reminiscent to the goofy nature of a cartoon; I think you're also right in saying this was an intentional effort by Ishmael Reed. The novel is supposed to be somewhat humorous---at least in its depiction of white characters---to illustrate how silly their perspectives are. There is no logic behind von Hampton's fear of Jes Grew and black culture, so it makes sense to picture him as an angry antagonist who just wants to stop the world from having fun---because that's what Jes Grew is, a culture that brings about joy and dancing.
ReplyDeleteThis is an insanely interesting post, and you talk about things that have honestly never crossed my mind. I personally am a big time fan of movies and shows, so this post allows me to appreciate the book a little more. Also, after reading this post, I started thinking about other media that this novel would lend it to, and I'm curious about it as a picture book for kids? Like, it's kinda crazy, but I feel like with pictures it could be a good way to teach kids about real-world issues through the idea of JG and also pictures.
ReplyDeleteI really liked how Reed seemed to lean into the absurdity of his novel's structure. Painting it as a sort of digital cartoon, with the sole motive to entertain the viewer until next week, seems like it could help someone to contextualize some of the happenings. Reeds seems to find a great balance between his presented humor and the complex and deep topics he chooses to appear to cover in his novel. If the presentation of the book's text was simplified, I could definitely see it being one of the more popular young adult novels. However, I think this could also potentially diminish from the product and the message it conveys as well.
ReplyDeleteReally interesting post! I love the way you set up this post and although I've sort of thought of the absurdity of this book at times, I've never really thought of it formatted as a silly TV show. With the quick cutaways and little to no explanations over most things (I mean, HInkle Von Vampton being an original Knights Templar and is here in the 20th century running a newspaper company?), I totally get your point. There are so many TV tropes littered around in this book and it's kinda a book that's hard to take seriously at times because of the comical scenes. I feel like Reed's deployment of this format really adds to the overall message of the book; it allows you to embrace the unconventionality of the novel, and proves you don't really need to understand everything to enjoy something. It definitely did make for an interesting and fun reading experience, though!
ReplyDeleteI think that the central plot is convoluted with a million other little things, many of which don't make a ton of sense or go unexplained, fits with the path of jes grew through the US. It has a purpose and a journey to go to NYC and find its text, but along the way it gets everyone in its path dancing. A simple mission that gets complicated along the way is the path of the novel and the path of jes grew.
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