The name is Feuilleton Jones. It’s of French origin. Like New Orleans. Like Le Roi. It’s of black origin, like Jenkins and Jefferson. Yeah, my mama named me funny. Leastwise I don’t look funny. What’s your excuse? Don’t talk about my mama.
A feuilleton is a type of essay. Usually cultural, like a book or arts review, but drawing on a wide range of knowledge, interests, and impressions; but it’s not really a success if it remains purely “cultural.” Around the turn of the 20th century, in fact, they were usually pretty political.
Of course it’s a pseudonym. But closer to the truth than many things. You know how in the 70s all the black parents wanted to name their children something exotic and foreign… well, actually not much has changed there! I always thought it was an interesting phenomenon, and wanted to pay tribute in some small way, to acknowledge both their efforts to set our generation apart, and our difficulties in living with such a heritage. I mean heritage in all ways possible. There’s a lot at stake, and not only linguistically. They passed us a piece of the struggle in this way, made it a part of our daily lives in this way, and what did we do? How many of them knew the struggle was not only a race struggle? How did we respond? I know how I am responding: I hope to shine some light on some of these questions here.
Seeing as how my last website went defunct about 3 years ago, and I have been piling up papers ever since, I figured now is a good time to put them back online. Part of the fun is seeing how the writings change over the years. I have stuff going back to 1997! And I have stuff coming up to today (this post included). Shortly I will be posting a longer piece, another movie review or two, and maybe a couple of book reviews. Meanwhile, check it out!