I’m making an effort to read more Booker-eligible books prior to the longlist announcement – up today is Brandon Taylor’s Minor Black Figures. (Riverhead 2025) Taylor was previously shortlisted for the Booker in 2020 with Real Life. At that time, I was only reading selected works from the list, and I did not read Real Life; I typically don’t enjoy academia lit fic. I don’t enjoy (typically) novels about unmoored extremely smart/creative young adults trying to find their identity. And therein lies the reasons I didn’t enjoy Minor Black Figures. Taylor is a talented author and the story is compelling, but the story of a talented artist trying to find his voice/identity in New York post-Covid does nothing for me.
The novel follows Wyeth, a 31-year-old gay Black artist who works at a gallery and as a restorer to pay the bills. He’s had some fame but has struggled with what he wants to say and what folks want him to say and what folks think he is saying with his art. He doesn’t want to be grifter, and he feels a bit like that is what art highlighting the Black Lives Matter and other political movements becomes. (This concept of a creative questioning the role of his/her voice in a struggle shows up in multiple listed books from this year’s Booker prize – notably Endling and The Loneliness of Sonia & Sunny.) I do not like Wyeth.
Wyeth meets Keating, a former seminarian who is also struggling with his identity and faith. Keating is white – a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty who scratches an itch Wyeth hadn’t entertained in a bit. Between the conversations with vapid friends and the burgeoning relationship with Keating, Wyeth is working to restore several lithographs – the art of Dell Woods, a “minor black figure,” found in a desk. His work trying to restore the lithographs and find Dell annoyed me so much because it was the more fascinating part of the novel yet Wyeth had zero concept of how to search for a person using the plethora of records available?!?! (I wanted more about Dell and Genie – that’s the book I’d have loved.)
I like how Taylor tells a story, I just don’t much care for the plot or characters. And that’s where I can appreciate that this is a really good novel with excellent points to ponder regarding identity, faith, art, and politics (eg. is a Black artist a Black artist if they don’t paint a Black subject?), and also say it’s not my favorite.
A Girl Named Tommi 