I have long admired the brilliant work of Charles Johnson. Johnson's previous novel, "Middle Passage," about a stowaway on a slave ship, won the National Book Award in 1990. It is a stunning piece of fiction-part picaresque, part allegory, part morality play. Johnson's new novel "Dreamer" is as ambitious in scope but more grounded in reality. It is a deeply moving, meditative work that re-imagines the last years of Martin Luther King, Jr. Lyrical chapters reflecting on King's life and goals, contemplating the nature of man and the way of nonviolence, are interspersed with the story of the narrator, Matthew Bishop, a bespectacled, cowering student of philosophy.
Matthew is "reminded of his mediocrity" (compared to Citizen King) every day, who comes to philosophical (that is, moral maturity) through managing the education, really his own (a la Pygmalion), of a physical double of King, Chaym Smith. Smith is posited as a character who in his potential may well be fully the intellectual equal of King, learned in history and philosophy, gifted in poetry and art, but whom the harshness of life, through the vagaries of misfortune, has turned into a self-serving skeptic and cynic, essentially a failure of a man rather than the great and immortal thinker or artist he might have been. In other words, he, like the narrator, is not Dr. King.
Charles Johnson spent several years researching "Dreamer." Then, through happenstance, he was given the book "The Changes of Cain" by its author, Dr. Ricardo J. Quinones. This book led Johnson to rewrite "Dreamer" in the last months prior to going to press, only now introducing the double Smith.
The philosophical, that is moral, theme running through "Dreamer" recognizes the presupposition of the inherent inequality of people in terms of their skills and talents, the original theme of the Old Testament's Cain and Abel, but this book uses King and his doppleganger Smith to present the possibility of synthesis and rectification of inequality. This synthesis is ultimately manifested in the narrator Matthew. Such a synthesis of the two sides of man embodies King's "inescapable network of mutuality," the erasure of the "ontological fear" of self and other, me and you, black and white, Jew and Muslim or Christian, man and woman.
The following section on King's thoughts highlights the theme, and the beauty of Johnson's writing: "...inequality was stitched into the fabric of being. No one deserved greater natural gifts than others. But despite the fortuitous differences in men, they could volunteer to share one another's fate. They could-in fact, should rearrange the social world to redress the arbitrary whims of contingency, accident, and chance."
This book is full of great writing, but more importantly, it is a book that offers up the possibility of grace, not necessarily in the religious sense, but in the humanitarian sense. "Dreamer" is a book for anyone who would take their dreams for a better humanity and try to make them reality.