I Am One of You Forever

I Am One of You Forever

Fred Chappell

I can’t remember when I first read this or how I came to it; I would guess my mom or my Aunt Jody passed it to me.  My mom is a reader through and through, and her sister Jody is the same, perhaps with a little more interest in Southern literature.  I just know that for many, many years, when people would ask me for the title of my favorite book, I’d cite this one.  Part of my answer was, maybe, an attempt to avoid a work from the canon, a Huck Finn or Scarlet Letter.  Part of it was, probably, a desire to sound in the know:  Forget what others say – here’s your right answer! (In the 1990’s I had a bit of the “young hipster who only likes obscure bands” attitude about books.  I probably still do.  But don’t we all enjoy the act of discovery, of gaining esoteric knowledge, of initiating and sharing that knowledge with others?). Chappell’s work is widely respected but I wouldn’t call it mainstream, so I Am One of You Forever is the perfect choice for “favorite book” for a certain personality at a certain age.  Which is to say, me, for a long, long time.  

But here’s the thing – I knew what I was talking about.  It is a great book.  It’s hilarious, touching, and poetic.  The story  (most simply: a boy grows up on a North Carolina  farm) is simple and episodic.  There’s only the scantest hint of a plot: uncles who are part myth and part magic arrive and leave, the boy and his father and their farmhand antagonize the boy’s grandmother, and life, the good and the bad of it, continues.

If the story is simple and straightforward, the writing is simple and astounding.  Chappell writes clearly and with economy (it’s not surprising that he is an accomplished poet) and his writing in places is just plain beautiful. 

Here’s an excerpt from when Johnson Gibbs, the 18 year-old farmhand, is introduced to the family.  It’s not the most poetic section of the novel, but it’s memorable.

My mother – who was no help at the farm, since she taught school all day – took to him immediately.  She loved boys – that was probably a big reason she married my father.  She loved most of all boys who were quiet and cheerful and well-mannered, as Johnson was.  And he was good-looking besides.  When my mother was introduced to him her hands went automatically to her hips, smoothing her skirt.

Johnson’s eyes were of a light blue color, and when he met my father they became lighter, almost transparently blue.  His smile tightened a quick animal reaction.  There would be conflict between them – that was inevitable – but the introduction went off affably enough, and took place on a Sunday.

They didn’t fight until the next day.  It was a law woven into the fabric of the universe that these two young men were going to have at it; and Monday was as good a day as the Lord ever made.

The mother smoothing her skirt over her hips, Johnson’s smile tightening – I have never forgotten those details.  And consider how much we learn about everyone in those three short paragraphs! 

Listen, I don’t know if this is my favorite book anymore – is it even possible to pick just one book as a favorite? – but this is a great, great novel.  You won’t regret reading this.