In his novel Dreamer, the distinguished Charles Johnson undertakes the majestic task of fictionalizing the immortal Civil Rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Johnson approaches the life, beliefs, and events surrounding King by choosing a daring scenario. He presents two sides of King through the literary device of an alter ego. He creates a character, Chaym Smith, who looks exactly like King. This strange doppelganger is introduced by the narrator of the novel, Mathew Bishop. Smith not only mirrors King in appearance, but he also possesses an intelligence and charisma surpassing that of the great leader. Smith is reared by the King camp to become a second King, which will allow the real minister time and space to rest and retain his sanity. What Bishop learns, however, is that Smith possesses an even greater knowledge and gift for linguistic talents than the actual Reverend King. But more alarmingly, Smith’s philosophies embody a violent nature. Smith’s genius makes it is difficult for Bishop to determine which man is real and which has the best ideas for how to change the course of history. Johnson succeeds most at depicting all sides of an era, split with hatred, hysteria, and fanaticism that stood in the face of King’s efforts. The story allows readers to understand and consider the magnitude of King’s quest. Were his non-violent methods and beliefs the best approach? Johnson offers the double in Smith as a way to call into question the effectiveness of non-violent means. He blurs King’s corporeality with Smith’s phantom to make a moral issue about human sameness, where only values and beliefs create differences. However, Johnson also makes clear the great danger in violence, as depicted through Smith. In capturing the spirit, legacy, and remembrance of the great King, Dreamer is ultimately a study of the possibility of self, requiring the power of belief to keep dreams alive.
This was a curious one. Charles Johnson, whose novels always seek the balance between character and commentary, succeeds brilliantly in revealing the interior life of Martin Luther King, and fails utterly at writing a novel.In his best work, (Middle Passage and Oxherding Tale) Johnson writes about the black experience in America with a keen critical eye for all concerned, and with an equal skill in storytelling and characterization. Here, despite coming up with a brilliant doppelganger premise, he's barely even pretending that his characters are anything other than ciphers for stitching together essays on MLK, religion as it relates to civil rights, and a handful of other topics.Part of Johnson's conceit is that everyone else pales in comparison with the great Doctor, but in doing so he robs the story of its credibility. The narrator (whose name has already slipped away from me) lapses frequently into long, authorial essays on King's oratorical style, or Cain and Abel, and has no voice of his own. The result is that when he does act out or show emotion, as when he destroys a roadside diner, it doesn't feel earned. Amy, his colleague and the object of his hopeless affections, is even more of a joke: A proud, smart, beautiful woman straight from central casting, and without any unique traits to make her interesting.Then, of course, there's Chaym Smith, the "double." Well, he's deeply flawed and full of angry contradictions, which puts him way above the other two. But still he's a riddle whose solution, and purpose in the story, never gets found out. The only person Johnson really seemed to be interested in was King, and when he's on the page, either orating thunderously or trying to get a minute's peace in the bathroom, the book comes alive. I appreciate it, at least, for giving me these glimpses of him as a mortal man, which whether they are accurate or not, have the ring of truth.
