Kings-Blood Royal

This is the fifth book of Sinclair Lewis's that I have read. Like the previous two I completed; "Main Street" and "Elmer Gantry", "Kingsblood Royal" seems dated but still conveys a very timeless message. This novel is about a man of prominance in a Northern Minnesota city (I figured it to be a composite of Bemidji and Grand Rapids) who suddenly finds out he is descended from a Negro. He goes through a transformation of perspective on racial issues. In time, he declares himself publicly to be a "Negro". The effects of this declaration demonstrate the prejudices and ignorances (pardon the redundancy) of the US in the immediate post-WWII years. Sinclair Lewis does a compelling job of ferreting out the evils of racial prejudices by showing how one previously accepted man of importance descends to the level of a societal pariah. Close friends turn away, well-meaning people succumb to pressure and cease their assistance, family members disavow him. At the same time, we become familiar with the Black residents of Grand Republic who share their trials and tribulations. I was impressed by how well Lewis covered his subject from so many angles. In doing so, he challenges the reader to examine where he or she would find themselves among the varied characters in "Kingsblood Royal" My complaint about the book is somewhat qualified. Mr. Kingsblood is 1/32 Negro yet he grabs onto that as his racial identity after living his life unaware of it. I'm 1/32 Irish but I don't consider myself to therefore be Irish. It's one thing to discover your long lost father; it's quite another to discover your long lost great great great grandfather. I suspect that this was what Lewis felt he needed to do to make the story otherwise believable and to point out, as well, how the stereotypes of that period would identify such a small percentage as making no difference in definition. I'll grant him that privilege given that he wrote such an excellent book.

KINGSBLOOD ROYAL is a 1947 novel rich in sometimes unintended, sometimes avoidable consequences as a basically dull, average American Neil Kingslbood plods back into American business humdrum. He had been wounded in 1943 as a Captain in the US Army. He "piously" (after the fashion of the Roman hero Aeneas) promises his father to look into a family legend (communicated surprisingly late to the hero) that the Kingsbloods are descendants of English royalty. Nothing is clear one way on the other on the paternal side of genealogy. But interviews with his father's mother and then with a Minnesota historian reveal first that Neil's great, great, great maternal grandfather, the Canadian voyageur Xavier Pic, had a Chippewa wife. And shortly thereafter there is convincing documentary evidence that Pic himself was 100% black, having been born on the isle of Martinique around 1750. That makes the startled Neil Kingsblood both 1/32 black as well as heavily Native American. What to do about it? There had been and was still no suspicion among any family members or friends and business colleagues that the Kingsbloods were (by certain American, mainly Southern, standards) legally black. No one need therefore ever find out. And it was pretty clear that if the word got out, the results would not be pretty. Yet Neil, a man not otherwise noted for boldness or delicate conscience, decides to "come out," even after being advised not to by newfound black friends in the city of Grand Republic, Minnesota. The results are even more awful than a reader nearly 60 years after the fictional events might imagine. Neil loses job after job. His wife is socially ostracized. Eventually even his young daughter is snubbed as well. Family members of his generation beg him to keep quiet. When he does not, a marriage does not take place. A divorce occurs. Neil is blamed for his father's sudden death. Bloody mindedness spreads. At the end of the novel, the hero, his family and some armed black friends fire on an angry mob massing at the Kingsblood home after community leaders fail to persuade them to move out of the semi-prestigious all-white neighborhood. The police move in to arrest Neil and others but exempt Neil's wife Vestal, daughter of a community leader. She however remains true to Neil to the end. She assures her arrest by hitting a policeman over the head with a pistol. The story may sound far-fetched. But remember 1925 when black Doctor Ossian Sweet moved into an angry previously all white neighborhood on the East Side of Detroit. Shots from inside Sweet's house killed a demonstrator outside. Defended by Clarence Darrow, Sweet was acquitted. (No one was killed in KINGSBLOOD ROYAL). But racial violence rose through the next twenty years in Detroit. Anti-black racism was still strong in 1947 when KINGSBLOOD ROYAL hit the streets. In some small way Sinclair Lewis may have almost succeeded in laughing American racial idiocy away.

I began to read the book not knowing what the subject matter was. As it unfolded, I became fascinated with the story and the time in which it was written. The main character is in fact noble in character & his wife recognizes it by trying to emulate him. I look forward to reading many more of Lewis' novels.

What if you discovered you were part black? Only 1/32nd, not enough to darken your skin, but beyond the pale in 1947. When Neil Kingsblood uncovers his heritage, he also discovers his conscience, finding it difficult, finally impossible to not express his outrage at the racial status quo. It is important to note that Kingsblood has so internalized the beliefs of his community about racial purity that he soon comes to see himself as being a "Negro," and not simply the bearer of a small amount of nonwhiteness (something not unusual in America). When he comes out--a phrase Kingsblood often uses and one that takes on additional resonance today--the white community instantly sees him as being a racial imposter, a black outsider. He understands his transgression, he knows what he is losing, but does it anyway, and even when further experience reveals just how much is at stake, he does not back down, giving Kingsblood a nobility he lacked before the revelation.Lewis's characters are felt-through creations, not cardboard cutouts. Although the novel's violent conclusion was considered melodramatic by white critics back then, several decades of truth-telling since 1947 have proven the hard-core truth of Lewis's premise: racism and violence go hand in hand.But what gives the novel its emotional drive is Kingsblood's relationship with his wife, Vestal. Not an outright bigot--she's too well-bred for that--Vestal is both fiercely loyal to her husband and dismayed by his annoucement, yet over the course of the novel you see her attempts at growth and in the novel's denoument, her final decision.It's a novel that is suited for adaptation to the screen, with the added advantage nowadays of there being so many well-known African-American actors. A quality movie, in fact, would be much in line with Lewis's ethos of writing in an accessible style to reach the masses but with a social activist message. It would be an eloquent rebuttal of the novel's initial poor reception.

Lewis dealt with racial discrimination in this story. It revolves upon distinctions made by whites or "racial purity" . Alas a middle class family in the midwest , proud of their lineage finds that in pioneer days, their relatives were trappers of black and Indian ancestry. Thus the proud up and coming businessman becomes the scourge of the town and finds consolation in the hearts of several black associates. This is Lewis at his best . In the end , the outcast is forced to protect himself against the violence prevalent against minorities of the first 1/2 of the 20th century. This book has never seen the light of day because of the critical issues it addressed, way ahead of any Civil Rights laws.