The House on Childress Street: A Memoir

I loved Childress Street. I loved it because I saw my own family in that book on so many levels. It was a story that I would have never had the talent to tell, but certainly have lived inside of. Kenji Jasper is a writers writer. While it can be a little challenging to follow the family tree, it is worth while because it initiates self reflection. Kenji Japser's story telling is amazing...but his comentary is even better. That is what makes Childress Street different from any of his other books. And the fasinating thing that happens at the end is wonderful. Keep it up Kenji Jasper.

This book was more than just a story about Jasper's family but also an opportunity to discuss psychological trends that are linked spiritually and scientifically to patterned behavior. I enjoyed Jasper's interjections about how discovering new things about his family helped him to better understand his identity. The high points of course were the journey Jasper takes the reader on throughout the novel. The low points are Jasper's writing style, which is disconnected, conversational and at a lower level of intellect than what he could potentially write. I guess in an attempt to capture more readers who typically read urban fiction, Jasper uses basic vocabulary. However, for a Morehouse grad, I am certain he could bridge the heady Colson Whitehead with the ghetto-drama Omar Tyree to create a truly captivating story and in depth read.

Kenji Jasper presents his nonfiction debut in The House on Childress Street, a memoir about his family, most specifically his late maternal grandfather, Jesse Langley Sr. This book is a departure from the literary urban fiction Jasper is known for which includes Dark and Dakota Grand. In this sometimes slow moving tale, he is trying to come to grips with the remote, distant man who was the patriarch of the Langley clan. Jasper's quest was to understand how this man's influence drove the rest of the family and to understand the legacy he left. Jesse Langley was considered a real man, albeit a complex man, to his family and his community. He went to work every day, provided a home and a paternal presence. Childress Street was where Jesse Langley reigned supreme. It was where family and friends gathered and where no one ever questioned his remoteness, his acid tongue or his words and deeds. As is so often the case in African American families, his family was left with unanswered questions. Jasper felt a need to find his grandfather's roots as if he was in a race to escape the madness that threatened to infiltrate his life. He and Jesse had planned a trip to Greenville, North Carolina, the old homestead but Jesse died a few weeks before their departure. Jasper made the trip by himself in 2004, met some of Jesse's brothers and asked them questions about him. Most they could not answer. For example, the mystery of who Jesse's mother was and what happened to her remains a mystery. Jasper came home with lots of stories but realized the answers he was looking for in the old cotton fields of Greenville were not to be found. The story meandered around trying to find a frame of reference jumping from Jesse's life, the dissection of Jasper's parents' marriage, to observations on to the construction of the Black family and to his childhood and coming-of-age. He attempted to juxtapose his own life and that of his grandfather's but it never quite fit. The continuous scrutinizing of his parent's lives plagues this discourse even as Jasper yearns for a family of his own that so far has eluded his thirty years on this earth. This book was as much a commentary on the Black family; a dissection of the history of a particular family as well as a delving into the psyche of the man who loved him and who he loved but did not know. Jesse Langley Sr. led a hard scrabble life in the South, came to Washington, D.C., married, raised a family and died like so many black men of his era. Part memoir, part sociological study, this book was a much needed catharsis for Jasper. I would recommend to those who are interested in studying the Black family. Dera R. Williams APOOO BookClub www.apooo.org

As an instructor at Duke's Center for Documentary Studies, I have had the opportunity to view and read quite a few pieces of creative non-fiction. Jasper's The House on Childress Street has quickly become a new favorite! It is refreshing, to say the least, to hear the distinct voices of urban late 20th/early 21st century Black experiences. I have used this text in my past two seminar classes to highlight a number of issues: 1) The highly personal nature of our work as documentarians, folklorists, historians, anthropologists, etc. 2) The concept of the hidden journey of digging into our family and personal histories--a journey that takes a life of its own, and 3)The complications of interviewing and representing those closest to us--our communities, our families. Even outside of the academy, I find this to be Jasper's best work. The House on Childress Street is an elegant representation of the true lives and ancestral voices lingering around this clarion voice of the Hip Hop generation.