The Unnamed Grief
In John Vercher’s ‘Devil is Fine,’ the story begins with an intense exploration of grief unparalleled by standard definitions. The narrator, a writer and professor, finds himself in an ambiguous space following the loss of his son, Malcolm. As there is no specific term to describe a parent who has lost a child, his grief feels all the more immense and isolating.
Intersecting Identities
Overlaying his mourning, the narrator’s biracial identity introduces another layer of complexity. Amidst the sorrow of his loss, he discovers that he has inherited land from his estranged grandfather—a former plantation, no less. This land inheritance forces the narrator to grapple with his racial background in a space fraught with historical pain and suffering. Various terms attempt to label his racial identity—mixed, biracial, mulatto—each carrying its own connotations and historical baggage.
A Mystical Journey Through Time
The narrative adopts a non-linear approach, moving seamlessly through different timelines. The narrator reflects on moments when Malcolm was alive, while also connecting his current grief to the historic significance of the inherited plantation. Spirits and visions interject throughout the journey, providing a mystical element that underscores the complexities of identity and loss.
Shifting Themes and Voices
One of Vercher’s key achievements in ‘Devil is Fine’ lies in destabilizing the narrative form. The first-person account shifts through different time frames and spiritual realms, creating an urgency that compels the reader to reconsider notions of identity continually. This narrative instability mirrors the intangible, mutable nature of identity itself—a theme that resonates deeply as the narrator grapples with his sense of self and racial background.
Vercher’s storytelling holds no conclusive answers, only ambiguities that reflect the human experience. The narrator’s conflict with writing ‘black’ fiction is one example of these unresolved tensions, presenting a relatable complexity for writers categorized by identity-specific labels. ‘Devil is Fine’ ultimately represents a beautifully complicated exploration of grief, race, and identity—a testament to the way personal and collective histories shape us.
