Customer Reviews

MANDINGO

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

There were 3 main books in this series, then quite a few side books. The side books were used to explain what went on during the time. I have read some of these reviews, and some of these people need to get a life. As a 52 year old Black Man, I read these books in 1969-1970 and found them facinating. Slavery was real. Sex during slavery was real. Just because you didn't like it didn't make it not happen. No, this is not a "historical" book, but fiction. Unless you have a time machine and are able to go back and record history, this is as close as you get. Read the WHOLE series and then make up your own mind. If I can Find the whole series, I would buy them.

Decades ago, "Drum" and "Mandingo" kicked off a potboiler series revolving around the plantation, slaves and owners at Falconhurst. As shocking today as it was the day it was published, "Mandingo" and the series of books face a new audience and a whole new world in the year 2001. They are full of sex and sin, horror, gruesome torture, injustice and human suffering. They may read like "Valley of the Dolls" and yet the reader has to take a breath and realize these fictionalized accounts of slave life cannot be far off from the truth. Don't allow yourself to fall into three of the usual traps, however. 1. These books were written and received as trashy novels of the higher variety, meaning amidst the sex and sin, there was a message to the story, one would have to be rather dim to miss it. Never are they presented as the complete historical works of the horrors of slavery. 2. These books may included the talk and theory of white supremacy, but neither is glorified nor are the books "tools" of the white man to keep the black man down. Written in the 70's, the books were penned to be exploitive, graphic/trashy bestellers and they were, Mandingo being one of the biggest sellers. They are exploitive, while interesting in many parts, sexually and violently graphic, and would never be published in this day and age. 3. They were written in a time prior to political correctness being attempted into every single piece of literature being written. Yes, Gentle Readers, there was such a time. More (or less) than a dissection of slavery and its origins, this book stands as a mirror into 1970's literature and what we read. No more, no less. For that reason alone, I give the book a 4.

First published in 1959, before the civil rights movement had changed much in the USA, Mandingo is a book that takes a harsh and simplistic view of slavery in the 1830s South. As the author recreates this period, slaves are animals to be bred, worked, and sold as the owners see fit. The N-word is used frequently, and slaves are represented as simple-minded and devoted to their owners. Bored by their rural life, young white men enjoy sex with their female slaves and wagering on fights between their most muscular male slaves. Slave breeding and prices are about the only things that the plantation owners seem to have enough knowledge about and interest to discuss.

Hammond Maxwell is 18 years old and an only child. His mother died when he was young, and his father is disabled by rheumatism. He and his father Warren are the only whites on a large Alabama plantation. Since he reached puberty he has had his choice of bedmates from the slaves of the plantation. His father is pressuring Hammond to marry his cousin Blanche who he hasn't seen since she was a baby and who lives on a distant plantation. Although Hammond has had many children by his female slaves, his father is looking for a white child who can be an heir to their plantation, Falconhurst. Blanche's father is eager to arrange a match because he is deep in debt and hopes to secure a "loan" from Hammond in exchange for his parental approval. Hammond, on his side is willing to do his duty to provide his father with progeny, but finds sex with slaves much more satisfying than with his wife. Blanche, neglected by a husband who finds more time for his pure-bred Mandingo fighter than for her, turns to drink and eventually to infidelity to ease her loneliness.

The plot is simplistic and the characters two-dimensional. One would hope that the author portrayed them that way intentionally rather than through lack of skill. In either case, the reader gets a glimpse into the dehumanizing effects of slavery on both the owner and the owned. This is a difficult book that gives a harsh glimpse at a brutal way of life.

I found a copy o this book in a box of tomes my grandmother was throwing away. I rescued it because the font in which the title was written was so primitive-looking and bizarre that it grabbed me. Ten years later, I have read this book in its entirety no less than a dozen times. It is as far from "politically correct" as you can get, and although I admit there is a level of sensationalism here, the characters seem so real to me that I have to wonder about the rest. I have not read "Drum" or "Master Of Falconhurst", the sequels, as I cannot find copies of them anywhere at this point. I doubt Amazon can either-- these books have been out of print for nearly twenty years. However, I highly recommend "Mandingo". It is truly horrifying, and if you like that sort of thing you will not be disappointed.

The book contains an amazing amount of detail. I was impressed about, but seriously questioned, the apparent accuracy of...? the examples of life in the era being written about. Was it history? I can't say. I'd genuinely like to know. I have no way of arguing the veracity of the presentation. It is, indeed, an incredible work. It is probably not politically correct to discuss -- or even allow yourself to think about -- some of the items and issues discussed in the book. But it is probably the most important single source of information that I've read on the subject of black issues, and has influenced my thinking more than any other.

I confess that I was surprised by the one other review I saw regarding the book. It appeared to me that the other reviewer, obviously a brilliant, learned, and articulate person, hated the book, hated the author, hated the presentation, and hated everything else having to do with the issue -- of slavery...? But I feared I was, perhaps, reading the words of someone who hates nearly everything. The hateful cynicism (my opinion) expressed, made me feel even stronger about the incredible amount of work that went into creating the book. I would enjoy attending a seminar with the earlier reviewer, as well as some other, more even-handed -- and perhaps more open minded -- reviewers, to see whether my current views of the book withstand, and hold up to, the comments and opinions of others.

I recommend the book. You will not forget it. I intend to read it again. It has been a number of years since I first read it. I am seeking a copy in better shape than the one I currently have.

Mandingo was Onstott's first novel. Prior to that, he had written a couple books on dog-breeding. While I'm sure he was writing to create a best-seller, the notes from the original edition do state that much of what he wrote about was taken from various historical sources. Unfortunately, they're not identified, but many can be supported by later nonfiction books about slavery. The book's intent, I believe, was to shock otherwise complacent Americans, particularly Southerners, into realizing what some of their forefathers were involved in. And indeed, what went on with slavery is nothing this country has to be proud of even a tiny bit. Onstott only wrote 2 sequels, Drum and Master of Falconhurst, both of which were probably, while having some historical accuracy, more to cash in on the success of the first. If you read the three in succession, the whole Falconhurst story should have eneded then and there. But recognizing a potential gold mine, other authors decided to extend the series with a bunch of other Falconhurst and related books that were extremely popular in the mid-70s to early 80s.
The Onstott books, if you can find them, are worth reading; the others are pretty much entertainment first. That's all IMHO, of course.

I read this book along with 8 others over 20 years ago. I am looking for a copy of any book by this author. These books take the reader through a range of emotions/anger.sadness joy and pride.

This book depicts a truly despicable way of life and an ignorant, sometimes vicious group of protagonists. Imagine a novel about Hitler's life at the apex of his power over subjugated peoples: a life without any kind of moral standards and subject to no laws. Imagine that novel with plenty of juicy sex and violence, with Hitler having a pretty good time throughout, to provide a reader lots of vicarious thrills. Transplanted to pre-1860 Alabama, we have "Mandingo".

From a literary standpoint, I do not think "Mandingo" is a terrible book. It is competently written. The dialogue is convincing, and the characters are consistent. It's exciting. It provides some historical detail of customs and superstitions that may be verified elsewhere (for instance, in "Bullwhip Days", a superb collation of interviews with ex-slaves).

From a broader, non-literary standpoint, "Mandingo" is pretty bad. Parts of the story are disgusting, and the author surely intended those parts to titillate the reader and increase sales. Much of the book is sure to insult or infuriate black readers.

I would say that "Mandingo" is a major work, by an author who knew his craft but felt no need to be socially responsible. I first read "Mandingo" when I was fourteen. At that time, I thought it was exciting but silly. Thirty years later, I find it exciting, shocking, and sad, but not the least bit silly. I recommend the book only to readers who won't mind being offended, and I recommend that parents keep it away from children.

This just might end up being the hardest review I'll ever write because....what can you say about this book? It boggles the mind and begs for analysis because it can't simply be a fat doorstopper with barely any plot, sluggish pace, and endless repetition, can it? There has to be more to it, right? Right?

Even if there isn't, darned if I didn't want to soldier on through to the end, where my reader's patience was rewarded with an OTT OMGWTF climax of all OTT OMGWTF climaxes.

The story takes place over the course of a few years in the 1830s, in rural Alabama on the slave-breeding plantation of Falconhurst. Warren Maxwell and his son Hammond plant cotton every year, but the dirt is worthless and the labor is only a means to keep their "stock" "soun' and vig'ous." Their main business is raising slaves, maturing them, and sending them off to market. Hammond's got an itch to own a "fightin' n---er" like all the young, rich guys do and set up matches and wager. It's just like dog- and cockfighting, except with people. Hammond buys a Mandingo, Mede, from a neighbor, trains him, and breeds him with the other 2 Mandingos they own (who happen to be Mede's sister and mother, but that just keeps the blood pure). Hammond's other goal is to get married and produce an heir for his dad's sake, and he marries his cousin Blanche Woodford, who is a drunken harpy jealous of her husband's attachment to his octoroon bed wench Ellen. Out of pique, Blanche orders Mede to her bed while Hammond's gone where the offspring results in the OTT OMGWTFery I mentioned earlier. (And no, I won't tell. It's not exactly like the movie, which was a surprise because I thought it was crazy like woah already.)

So that's the plot: owning a fighter and getting married, and neither turn out the way Hammond thinks they should. The rest of the 659 page hardcover chimney block is the ins and outs of daily life of owners and slaves in all its meandering, unremarkable glory. Nothing super exciting happens. People go off on visits, people come to visit, slaves run off or are sent to market, the poor try to snooker the rich, there's pontificating aplenty on the best slaves and what blood mixing and castrating and varying degrees of labor do to improve and detract the finished, sellable product, slaves lord it over other slaves, and owners threaten far more punishment than they deal out. We get page-upon-page scenes of labyrinthine Southern courtesy among characters who dislike and/or distrust one another. Minor events are spun out into anti-climactic nothingness. And all in a vernacular that made my head ache at first, but is so pernicious that I now find myself thinking in it.

And the hot toddies. Jesus Christ, a page hardly went by without Warren Maxwell or somebody swilling a hot toddy, serving a hot toddy, asking for a hot toddy, or complaining about/complimenting the quality of the current hot toddy. Never had one, and now I never will. The only other term used more often was the N word, but that didn't bug me as much because, well, they used it back then. The reliance on hot toddies and talk about Warren's "rheumatiz" was annoying and poor storytelling. Same with Blanche's mother's deafness and ear horn. It seemed like every scene with her in it had to have an exchange that re-established just how deaf she is and just how loud people had to talk. By about three-quarters through, I was getting replete with the handful of details and repetitive vocabulary (like "mayhap"! Arrrgh!)

I don't know anything about Onstott's intentions with this book, so I can only guess. It certainly delivers on the exploitation/sleaze front, with multitudinous descriptions of whites fondling black flesh for sale, even inspecting for hemorrhoids. If he wanted to portray the antebellum white culture as obliviously depraved and monstrous that served as a cover for perverts and freaks to unleash their impulses without recrimination, he succeeded. There's quite a cast of characters that make the Maxwells seem downright virtuous at times, but not for long.

Onstott does a better job of portraying the planter class in a poor light. The slave characters aren't admirable at all - either conniving, overbearing, shifty, lazy, or dumb and don't know any better. Maybe he thought he was doing a favor by portraying them as so ill-served by slavery that they welcomed any kind attention and show of pride by their owners, just how rotten the slave system was. But in many scenes when the whites don't look for hemorrhoids or inspect the teeth, the slaves do it themselves without being prompted, pulling their mouths or buttocks open wide and running around to fetch sticks and show off because they love the attention and don't understand anything about white folk talk. They grin because they know they're the topic at hand, but don't understand the details. They only know sleeping, eating, working, and breeding. I really feel like a shower about now.

So in that respect, yeah, I can understand the arguments that this book is all kinds of racist. But I honestly can't be sure. I think the book is really just good but ignorant intentions combined with sensation and long-winded storytelling with no editor to be seen.

But why 4 stars? Well, it's hard to describe. The book, despite being repetitious and tediously plotted, sucked me in. The very mundane events and pointless conversations about the same topics made it feel like I was there, listening to these caricatures go on and on about irrational thoughts and prejudices in a very rational tone. I can only liken it to a form of Stockholm Syndrome. I wanted to know what happened to these clowns - black and white alike - and see if yet another small task in Hammond's daily life would be dragged out for multiple chapters.

For example, Big Pearl (Mede's sister) comes down with a "misery" and this rather blah event (Sick slave! News at 11!) leads into the local vet'rinary getting called who arrives after awhile (the meantime being filled with talk about toddies and rheumatiz and whatnot). The vet has his own preoccupations with a local ugly (but rich) widder woman and we get to hear all about her and her slaves and the doc's mercenary designs on her as well as supposin's about what's wrong with Big Pearl until she's FINALLY examined and it's decided (which turns out to be accurate) that she just wants to sleep with Hammond like all the virgin slave wenches on the plantation. So Hammond does and she ends up popping out a boy nine months later. Many times scenes like this just fizzled out. There seemed to be no point other than "This is what happened on a plantation."

There's so much more, but this is getting long enough. I read the original edition with about 30 pages more than the "abridged, uncensored" edition. If you must read it, stick with the edited version. Some of the boring stuff is cut but all the dirty stuff is left in - which isn't sex, btw. There's no sex in this book. Talk of it, yes; but the cut-to-the-next-scene in the following sentence is so fast that I wondered if anything happened. All the racy stuff is slave-groping and talk about potency and being well-hung or good milkin' titties and whatnot. Since this was published in 1957, I can well imagine that it was the interracial stuff and implied deviancies (rich New Orleans pedophiles buying boys) that made it so notorious, because the sex is non-existent.

Weirdest book I've read in a long time or will probably ever read, unless the other Falconhurst books pile on the same feelings of being a willing hostage to the madness. Yup, I have most of them and I'm a-gonna read 'em. If one has had a run of blah book sugaryness, I can't think of a better antidote. Jest lik' that Doctor Mulbach's Serpent Oil, they's right sov'reign. Right sov'reign. And I reckon they'd happify me.

(Oh, all right. I'll give the ending away for those who want to know how it ends.)

Are you sure?

OK, here goes:

After Blanche has her obviously black baby, her mother dashes its brains out. Hammond, seeing no other way to mend his honor, gives Blanche an overdose of sleeping powder. He buries her and boils Mede in a large iron kettle in the front yard (stabbing him in the gut and face with a pitchfork to hold him under) until the slave is nothing but soup and bones. Then he has Mede's mother carry buckets of it to Blanche's grave and dumps them on it. Then he vows to go to New Orleans to kill 2 other slaves of theirs that had blackmailed their way into Blanche's bed, before vowing to move onto Texas where he can hold his head up and meet people in the eye. Tah dah.

MANDINGO is the book that started the Falconhurst series, which I have been reading since 1973. This book introduces us to all the main characters who are featured in the following sequels: DRUM, MASTER of FALCONHURST, FALCONHURST FANCY, FLIGHT to FALCONHURST, THE MUSTEE, HEIR to FALCONHURST, MISTRESS of FALCONHURST, ROGUE of FALCONHURST, TAPROOTS of FALCONHURST, and SCANDAL of FALCONHURST. There may be others, but the books I've listed are the best known. Also, although much of what we know about the South, the slave trade, and the inherent sexuality can be provided through BLack History classes or by tracing our own lineages (most of us have both black and white blood regardless of what we may think), the books are eye-opening and enlightening. There are several stereotypes that abound throughout the series though: White man prefer sleeping with their black mistresses to sleeping with their white wives, white women prefer black men the same way; that most blacks are lazy and over-sexed, most blacks will pass for white if they can, and that white supremacy is a God-given right. Even so, the series, which features the slave-breeding plantation called Falconhurst run by an ailing Warren Maxwell and his hot-tempered son Hammond who won't admit that they need a black slave woman named Lucretia Borgia to help them run things, is very popular. Mem is the perfect slothful body servant to Warren, Ellen is the perfect bed wench to Hammond, and Mama Lucy, Big Pearl, and Mede are perfect Mandingos. Though the film strays from the book in some ways, it is worth seeing too. Falconhurst is an unbelievable place. The book MANDINGO will astound you, shock you, and delight you in many ways. But don't miss it. Grab a copy today and read the entire series!!!