From a life of crime to watching the detectives

James Sallis's biography circles round the life of the novelist Chester Himes, but is his approach too clinical?

Chester Himes
James Sallis
Payback Press £18.99, pp385
Buy it at BOL

I was first introduced to Chester Himes aged around 12 or 13. My English teacher had decided that since her class was made up of mostly black students, it was logical that we would find black writers more interesting. This gentle step of logic became a catalyst which changed my life. From my initial reading of Himes, a book called The Real Cool Killers, I was sold. By the end of the term, I had read almost every Chester Himes detective novel published.

Chester Himes was born 29 July, 1909, in Jefferson City, Missouri. His family were well educated, his father, Joseph, teaching mechanical arts, while mother Estelle was a housewife, who previously studied music at a Philadelphia conservatory. As Joseph was dark skinned, and Estelle light enough to 'pass for white', their relationship was a rocky testament to the times they lived in. Somewhat ironically, Himes's father believed that 'White people know best... Blacks should accept white's offer... Count their blessings...' In stark contrast, Estelle, who 'looked white... Was the opposite... Hated condescension from white people...'

At 17 Himes graduated from high school and worked as a busboy in a hotel. Himes studied at Ohio State University, but became disillusioned and was expelled. He turned to crime and was eventually sent to prison for armed robbery, aged 19. While there, he saw violence of unimaginable proportion. Urged by his mother, he wrote about these things, in short stories that were published in a multitude of literary magazines, including Esquire. Eight years after his release, Himes wrote If He Hollers, Let Him Go - in my view, the only novel I have read which honestly deals with the anger, outrage and irrationality racism can bring.

As a biographer, James Sallis, himself an author of some note, has taken a rather clinical, academic view of Himes's life. His first chapter, exactly 40 pages long, details the history of Himes's parents and his life up until internment in prison. While this was all interesting stuff, I would have rather delved straight into the writer's own history, especially since a great deal of the stories are repeated later.

Sallis often speaks about the confusion of Himes' psyche, which bleeds into his work, and ultimately it seems, the biographer's. We are given dates, titles and extracts from books published (especially The Harlem Cycle) as an aid to Sallis's opinion of the author. This happens again when we get to points where they were actually written and published, and once more when Sallis and others who also studied Himes's writings critique them. A more linear, 'storyteller's' feel might have lessened this confusion, although this in no way detracted from my interest.

My only other bone of contention is that, for all of the research done, all of the speeches and books Himes wrote, James Sallis seems to miss the point of Himes's life perspective, as fully and consciously as he details precise facts. No more is this more evident than when he ponders over Himes's differing views concerning his time in New York - the first a CBS interview, 26 years after his stay, extolling his love of Harlem street life - the second, an autobiography published four years later, in which Himes writes: '...I knew... I was sick. But New York excepted me as normal, and that made me sicker...'

Sallis describes this hypothetically as '...two Chesters sitting across a table... debating...' I would present this as another infuriating reaction to racism. You can love a city culturally for what it gives in terms of your people, while on the other hand, hating that other side - the invisible 'tracks' we all cross in these modern times. Sallis, I feel, fails to comprehend just how confusing those times were for black people - and still are.

Sallis's enthusiasm and genuine respect for the man far overshadows these admittedly minute factors. Although long, the opening chapter does much to help us understand the events that made Chester and his work what they were.

I loved the discussions on satire and dark humour in Himes's Harlem Cycle and earlier books. When Sallis deals with Himes's attitude to the work, the book becomes revealing, honest, and sometimes very sad. Chapters come alive in a manner more flowing than academic; more instinctive than researched - more raw and undiluted Chester than you could imagine. I found myself liking this imperfect genius as well as his work, feeling real pain when I came to the end of his biography and life.