Narrative voice and post-modernism in C-Murder's Death Around the Corner
Death Around the Corner is to the modern American writer what 100 Years of Solititude is to South American History. It is an allegory of epic proportions that captures the pain, triumph, and inner battles faced by all writers in this post-modern generation.
Many would assume that to understand this novel requires an understanding of the author and where he was when he wrote it. C-Murder playfully provides an Author's Note attempting to explain why he wrote the book. “I was behind bars facing a life sentence, so I didn't know what the future held. But I knew one thing: I had to get on my grind.” (p. 267). To an untrained reader, this seems like a straight forward explanation of his motives behind writing the tome. However, if we investigate only slightly deeper into the structure of the sentences and the historical precedent for what he's saying, we get a much different message.
When C-Murder talks about not knowing what the future holds, he's not talking about his own life. As an author, he already knows his position in the act of reading. Drawing heavily from Eco's work “The Role of the Reader,” C-Murder recognizes that this is own future is limited by time and his eventual death (a constant theme throughout the novel). The future he is referring to is the future of literature, and the uncertainty it faces in this era of post-(post?)-Modernism. He knows that his work as an author has no guarantee of intellectual importance, but by “getting his grind on,” he's able to sate his own needs of expression and the universal literary desire to be seen as part of the canon.
C-Murder takes Eco's hypothesis further by making it perfectly clear that his role as the author is sublimated into the role of the text. That is to say his intent for the novel is to ascribe the human frailty to the novel itself. “Death is so close—right around the corner. Everybody can relate to it, from my hood to your hood.” It is essential that we do not let that key statement simply roll past us. When he says “from my hood to your hood,” he is not talking about neighborhoods, he's talking about disciplines. Be you in located in Comp Lit, Colonial Lit, Victorian Lit, Cultural Theory, French Cultural Theory, Film, or even Creative Writing, we all face death in our cultural works and we cannot be protected by our disciplines. C-Murder is saying we must put ourself out there, on the street corner of academia and expose our frailty.
This of course, carries throughout the novel with the character of Duquan, who is very thinly veiled as a writer. Though the book has him as a street savvy hustler who sells drugs, becomes a rapper, and kills a handful of people. It doesn't take a Slavoj Zizek to see through the symbolism and recognizeing that he's describing the life of a writer.
C-Murder starts the novel with the line: “Macy! Macy! Can we go to the fair?” in reference to the 1984 World's Fair in New Orleans. In this opening statement, C-Murder has already set the tone that his novel will be a delicate tracing of the post modern writer. The World's Fair is a perfect allegory for the rise of Modernism and descent into Post-Modernism and the inherent sadness of recognizing the need to participate in a movement that has long since passed.
In the lead character of Duquan, C-Murder has created an everyman writer who stands in for us all. Immediately his life begins with a heroin addicted mother and a hard working father who eventually kills his wife's lover. This is, of course, an obvious reference to William S. Burrough's life as a heroin addicted writer who shot and killed his wife in Mexico. Soon Duquan is left alone as his mother dies of an overdose, raised by his grandmother “Mama.” His literary heroes have left him alone, he has no more interaction, only memories, and stories that he can pull from Mama. The grandmother of course is serving as a personification of the library – a repository of knowledge, stories, and love.
It is worth examining the tortured relationship between DuQuan and Mama. She beats him at times, gives him advice which he rejects, and eventually has to kick him out of the house because of his drug dealing ways. All of these scenarios are easily mapped on the experience of the modern writer, being beaten by self doubt, hearing and ignore the advice of previous authors, and finally being kicked out of the ivory tower for not conforming to their rules.
As Duquan ages he gets more and more into the drug game (the role of drugs in this novel will be discussed in a later chapter), he eventually gets caught and sent away to a youth prison. Working with the themes of the novels, C-Murder actually constructs the prison as a univeristy – equal parts learning and oppression.
“Looking at the compound for the first time, Daquan couldn't help the eerie feeling that his life, from this day on, would never be the same. He could tell everyone on the bus felt the same way...Once those gates closed they wouldn't open until each boy's sentence was over. Whatever happened while they were inside those gates, they would just have to deal with.” (p.44)
As if this “first day of school” description were not enough, C-Murder goes on to call the place “SCOTLAND” - a not so subtle reference to the ivory tower of academia and the need to study British authors in a university setting.1
But C-Murder goes even further to make sure that his prison as college allegory is made clear. He actually inserts a C. Miller (Murder's real name) into the prison to help guide and offer advice to young DuQuan.
“My brother out in Cali got a record sto',” Cee told him. “There's where I'm goin' in a few weeks. He 'bout to put it down in rap fo' the N.O.,” Cee announced proudly.”
Cee is telling DuQuan and the reader that hip hop can be used to supplement life, to make it better, longer, more fruitful, and more passionate. In the novel, the quest to stay alive is matched by the author's quest to stay relevant. Rap is always seen as a secondary goal and a secondary commodity that merely improves life but cannot guarantee success or sustainability. Put simply, hip-hop is poetry and C. Murder is trying to show authors of prose fiction the importance of understanding and succeeding at writing poetry. C. Miller's invitation to come to California strongly evokes images of the writer communes of the 1960s that helped nurture Keysey, Ginsburg, and even Miller's obvious idol: Burroughs.
But a study of this novel would be complete without an investigation into the role of women in the life of Duquan. Though very easy to dismiss a sexist, C. Murder is actually positioning women in this story as publications. To sleep with one is to conquer them, to succeed, to get published. Duquan's first experience mimics that of a young writer finding success and not being prepared.
“Every muscle in his body seemed to melt into her softness, expect for his dick, which stayed rock-hard. It felt so good, he was frozen.”
“Well?” Mandi huffed. “Hump....shit, do somethin'!”
Though barely making his way through the experience, Duquan was not ready as a writer. He made an effort but ulimtately his success was in trying. As the novel moves on, he gets another shot with Mandi, and this time he is prepared. Much as an author is presented with another chance to submit to an editor.
“He could feel her body jerking, so he grabbed her ass, grinding deeper until they both came and she leaned down and covered his face with kisses.”
Duquan has matured into a writer, he can now call his own shots and write to his passions.
The novel is an essential and complex addition to any study of the modern plight of an american novelist. The quest for relevance, success, and knowledge binds us all and keeps us all striving for a textual ideal that may never be reached.
1 comment:
TRU PUBLISHING! Damn it why did I let my book get published at Randomhouse.
Post a Comment