“But people were eager to forget. And so Americans both Southern and Northern flocked to minstrel shows and snapped up happy-slave stories by writers like Thomas Nelson Page and Joel Chandler Harris. White society was not ready to deal with the humanity and needs of freed slaves, and these entertainments assured them that there was no need to. Reconstruction was scorned as a fool’s errand, and Jim Crow laws were touted as sensible reforms to restore a harmonious land.”

As soon as I read the article I wrote and sent in a letter to the editor. They didn’t publish it, so here you go.

David Von Drehle truly grasped of the influence of storytelling in “150 Years After Fort Sumter: Why We’re Still Fighting the Civil War,” his piece about slavery’s role in the Civil War. That’s why it’s shocking he could so casually dismiss the gravity of Joel Chandler Harris’s Uncle Remus tales.

Harris’s depiction of plantation life is a far cry from “happy slaves, all faithful to a glorious lost cause,” as Von Drehle writes. The figure of Uncle Remus in particular is a subversive, developed character who tricks his audience—both the little white boy in the stories and the reader of the stories themselves—into witnessing nuanced lessons of cultural understanding and empathy. Fittingly, Uncle Remus introduced the world to Br’er Rabbit, one of literature’s greatest trickster heroes.

Harris first heard these stories while he grew up working amongst slaves on a Georgia plantation during the Civil War. Just a few years after the Jim Crow laws were enacted, he celebrated and preserved African-American culture and folklore that was widely derided and may have otherwise been lost. In doing so, he also satirized the very “plantation school” writers that Von Drehle lumps him in with.

If Von Drehle bothered to study the Uncle Remus tales, as I suspect he has not, I think he’d be delighted to find “Americanism at its best”—literature that tears down borders.

Lain Shakespeare
Executive Director
The Wren’s Nest House Museum
Historic Home of Joel Chandler Harris

For a more detailed look at this particular issue, take a look at “Everything You’ve Heard About Uncle Remus Is Wrong.”

I’ve wanted the Wren’s Nest to put out a newspaper for a few years now.

Joel Chandler Harris cut his teeth as a printer’s devil for a newspaper before making a name for himself at the Savannah Morning News and the Atlanta Constitution. Newsprint seemed like an appropriate marketing gimmick, but that was about as far as we got.

When Huey + Partners surprised us with these awesome print advertisements, it was clear we had to use them somehow.

While we sat on our hands, Noisy Decent Graphics and McSweeney’s created their own delightful, short-run newspapers.

Then earlier this year Lauren over at Lampe-Farley read “Everything You’ve Heard About Uncle Remus Is Wrong” and was all like, “Hey idiot! This is your newspaper right here.” And you know what? She was right, for a few of reasons.

• Amelia‘s mom had already said the same thing.
• Some folks have no idea who Uncle Remus is.
• Some folks are uncomfortable talking about Uncle Remus.
• Some folks think Uncle Remus is NOT OK.
• The essay’s been popular online, but many readers drop out after Part 1.

It seemed like a great way to marry marketing and mission, so we put Lauren to work. A few weeks later, our newspaper was born:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Thanks to Greg at Lampe-Farley for the video.

The whole paper looks great, but I’m especially happy that Zach from Crafty Mice let us use his Brer Rabbit poster to serve as the centerfold. This photograph doesn’t do it justice, but I’m gonna show it to you anyway.

We had our newspapers printed just in time for the Decatur Book Festival. Naturally, we’re bringing in a scrappy team of newsies to distribute the thing.

Click here to view the embedded video.

If you can’t make it to the festival, send your address to lain@wrensnestonline.com, and I’ll mail you a copy.

What do y’all think? Will people pick this up? Or will I be making a lot of hats and boats all winter?

“Your hair looks like a briar patch. I keep expecting racist, animated Disney characters to pop up and start singing about living on the bayou.”

Gosh, I’m not sure whether to buy Sue a drank or punch her in the throat.

I’m thankful that the writers at Fox (a) finally made a fresh joke about Will’s hair; (b) specified that the racist characters are Disney’s; and (c) had Sue Sylvester deliver the line on the season finale.

Yet as much as I like getting folks to think about the Uncle Remus stories, I can’t say that I’m thrilled that this dimension of Song of the South is being perpetuated in prime time. Sue Sylvester is always over the top, and this is no exception. But given the film’s, uh, reputation I don’t think people will take it as such.

And seriously, how many people watch Glee? Millions!

How many people have watched this video of Akbar telling the story of Brer Rabbit and the Briar Patch? Like, 4. And half of them can’t tie their shoes.

It’s awesome that Glee provided such a great reference to Brer Rabbit, but it’s a shame that it further brands him as something so negative.

Also, can we talk about how it’s at least a little ironic that a show so reliant on stereotypes is calling out other stereotypes?

Before Johnny Depp’s role as Captain Jack Sparrow in the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, there was Jack Sparrow, original gangsta, from the Uncle Remus story “The Fate of Mr. Jack Sparrow.”

Curtis tells a wonderful version of the story. As Uncle Remus explains, Jack Sparrow is a tattler who meets his demise whilst tattling atop Brer Fox’s snout.

I guess the little boy hadn’t seen The Wire yet.

Disney put out both Pirates of the Caribbean and that movie based on the Brer Rabbit tales — oh, what is it called again? — but I think the similarities may stop there. Then again, I haven’t seen the Pirates films so what do I know.  Can anyone who has seen ‘em connect the dots?

Joel Chandler Harris offers this note on the text at the end of the story:

Previously:

• 1937 Uncle Remus Illustrations by Fritz Eichenberg
• “I bin mixin’ up wid fokes now gwine on eighty year”

“I bin mixin’ up wid fokes now gwine on eighty year, en I ain’t seed no tattler come ter no good een’.”

- Joel Chandler Harris, Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings

(Apologies to Slaughterhouse 90210)

For example, are people talking about Joel Chandler Harris?  Not that much. Song of the South?  Sure, especially with the release of the Princess and the Frog on DVD.  What about Uncle Remus?

Like you wouldn’t believe.

Uncle Remus Chicken & BBQ is, according to many on Chicago’s West Side, “the business.”

See what I mean?

Whenever I look at my saved search for “Uncle Remus” on Tweetdeck, I have to wade through unending praise of Uncle Remus Chicken & BBQ.  Either that or comparisons to its nearest competitor, Harold’s Chicken Shack, on the South Side.

So on a recent trip to Chicago, Amelia and I just had to try it out.  Accompanied by intrepid blog commenter Joe, Brer Lion shirt-owner Heather, and another guy named Joe, we set out for the W. Madison location.

There’s no seating inside Uncle Remus.  You read the menu that’s written on the wall in a shade of orange so neon that I think I contracted epilepsy on the spot.  The extremely reasonable prices, however, made up for it.  Once you decide on your order, you give it to someone behind a large pane of glass.  I gave our order to a lady wearing a shirt that said “Auntie Uncle Remus.”

While you wait (a surprisingly long time) you can either watch ‘em fry everything up through the glass or stand awkwardly in the corner next to an inexplicably placed map.  We chose the latter.

Auntie Uncle Remus finally called our number, and we received our chicken through a 12″ x 12″ hole that sits about 6 feet off the ground.  It has something of a speakeasy quality to it.

We took the chicken to nearby Garfield Park to enjoy a little picnic before hitting up the Conservatory.

The verdict?  A resounding “meh.”

The mild sauce, occasionally referred to as “crack sauce,” is what keeps folks coming back.  It’s pretty good, and the chicken is better than this picture would have you believe.  We did not bother with the fries (and recommend that you do the same).  If you factor in the price, it’s a pretty good value.  That said, I’ll take the Busy Bee Cafe any day of the week.

Still, given the name, the product, and the experience, I think we all agree:

]]> http://www.wrensnestonline.com/blog/uncle-remus-chicken-barbeque-of-chicago/feed/ 4 http://www.wrensnestonline.com/blog/huckleberry-hound-tells-the-uncle-remus-stories/ http://www.wrensnestonline.com/blog/huckleberry-hound-tells-the-uncle-remus-stories/#comments Wed, 24 Feb 2010 01:58:16 +0000 Amelia http://www.wrensnestonline.com/blog/?p=7056 Lately we’ve been showing you all manner of greatness influenced by Brer Rabbit and Uncle Remus (1,2,3).  Eventually, we were bound to run out of impressive, possibly life-changing material.

Luckily, now is the opposite of that time.

(Thanks to Gasoline Alley Antiques for the picture)

Allow me to introduce you to “Huckleberry Hound Tells Stories of Uncle Remus.”  First, a primer on Uncle Remus himself:

Uncle Remus
[Dear subscribers, please check out the actual post for the audio.]

Just lays it right out there, doesn’t it?  If there’s anything Huckleberry Hound hates, it’s ambiguity.

Next, a story with language so rich, all I can do to prepare you is to say that the phrase “snitchin’ my goobers!” is featured. Strengthening my point?  Someone is “caught red-headed” in this tale.  This guy knows what I’m talking about.

Dollar a Minute
[Dear subscribers, please check out the actual post for the audio.]

HI-sterical!

I think this last one sounds like The Rascals’ never-released surf jam:

Brer Rabbit
[Dear subscribers, please check out the actual post for the audio.]

And this is just the tip of the iceberg.  It seemed a little excessive to post the entire album, but after listening further — well, it may just have to be done.  We owe it to Huckleberry.

Thanks to the wonderful folks at Wax n’ Facts for giving us a copy of this album and piquing our interest.  It took us a while to track down the, uh, tracks, but man alive am I glad we did.

On Thursday I was listening to Loudon Wainwright on Fresh Air. He was talking about his new album that pays tribute to Charlie Poole.

All of a sudden I remembered — “Oh! Loudon Wainwright wrote a song called ‘Black Uncle Remus!’ Let’s see if I can embed that into a blog post.”

Turns out I can’t embed it just yet.  For now, the best I can do is send you to the Yep Roc label for a refreshingly substantial preview of the song.  You can also buy it for all of 99 cents. It’s the first track.

Of all the Uncle Remus-inspired music (see: Miley Cyrus’s “Zip-a-dee-do-dah,” Van Dyke Parks’s Jump!, Henry F. Gilbert’s unfinished Uncle Remus Opera, Devin the Dude’s NSFW “Briarpatch,” etc), this track is the most jammable as Amelia and I have proved all week.  The lyrics are below.

Black Uncle Remus in central square,
Somebody took the rocker off the rocking chair.
When you got the whiskey habit
You don't talk about Brer Rabbit.

Black Uncle Remus got the death letter blues,
The hellhound says it time to pay the dues.
You rarely recall the catfish catchin'
When you're living in the Briar Patches.

Black Uncle Remus, he moans and he sings,
His tears have rusted his banjo strings.
You start calling for Jesus or your Mama maybe
When your life's gummed up in the old Tar Baby.

Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do,
Whatcha gonna do when you're black and blue?.
Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do,
Whatcha gonna do when you're black and blue?

Georgia Traveler, everyone’s favorite travel show not starring Michael Palin Anthony Bourdain Rick Steves, stopped by the Wren’s Nest a few months back for a segment on their “Book Tour” episode.

Amelia did most of the talking:

Curtis did most of the storytelling:

And Georgia Traveler did a bang-up job.  Thank you, Georgia Traveler! Watch the entire episode online, here (just click on the “Watch” icon next to the page title).

Our segment starts about 4 minutes in, but the whole episode is worth your time.  They stop by the Uncle Remus Museum, Flannery O’Connor’s Andalusia, the Margaret Mitchell House, and the Grit.

P.S.  Do you know how hard it is to find a screen grab where people don’t look like they’re drooling?  It’s medium-hard!

I swear I’m not messing with y’all.

Gilbert never secured the rights to the Uncle Remus tales and couldn’t complete his opera, but he did write its prelude.   Gilbert derived these two songs, performed here by Nadia and Vladimir Zaitsev in 2004, from the prelude –

Nadia and Vladimir Zaitsev — “Uncle Remus”

[Dear subscribers, please check out the actual post for the audio.]

Nadia and Vladimir Zaitsev — “Brer Rabbit”

[Dear subscribers, please check out the actual post for the audio.]

Thanks to Fleur de Son Classics for permission to use the music.  If you like it, consider ordering the album here.

The Uncle Remus prelude premiered at a Central Park concert in New York in August of 1910.  4,000 people attended.

The Boston Symphony performed the prelude the following year.  Some people objected to the jaunty ragtime rhythms, but most responded positively “to the youthful vigor, the racy humor and the romantic nature of this new music.”   Philip Hale, in the Boston Herald of April 14, 1911, wrote:

“The overture stirred the blood of the audience.  All rejoiced in hearing a new voice with something to say and an original way of saying it.  The fugue did not dampen the interest of the hearers, for the old form was used with dramatic spirit.  No wonder that the audience, surprised and delighted, was for once in no hurry to leave the hall. [...]  The overture is distinctively, but not bumptiously, not apologetically, American.”

Gilbert was one of the first American composers to break free of the Germanic style of classical music.  For Gilbert, African-American folk music was a great source of inspiration and “seemed closely related to the spirit of all America.”

Gosh, sounds a lot like Joel Chandler Harris who, regarding A.B. Frost’s illustrations of Brer Rabbit and his critter friends, remarked: “We shall then have real American stuff, illustrated in real American style.”  Shame he wasn’t around to hear the soundtrack… embedded in a blog post… on the internet. Really woulda blown his mind.

Related: Henry F. Gilbert: a bio-bibliography by Sherrill V. Martin