dered complex, largely because misery, reflection, and responsibility are configured into a dynamic whole. What this means to the project at hand is that I began to recognize that the end result was of little importance. What matters is the process -- an investment in acts not destinations. It is this sensibility that I have gleaned from the works of Ralph Ellison and that can be found in the works of Ernest J. Gaines and James Alan McPherson. To be sure, there are other writers whose work has been influenced by Ellison's literary personage. But, as I argue here, what attracted me to the triad of Ellison, Gaines, and McPherson was that each has found creative ways to situate their Southernness, to posit circumstances that, in the popular view, indicate despair and squalor as the site of cultural vitality. The other, perhaps less clear, aspect of this is that this study works in a smaller unit of literary history. Though they are not peers, Gaines and McPherson are, in literary terms, contemporaries. As such, I hope it is clear to readers the debt this study owes to those previous foundational endeavors in African American literary studies: to name but a few, Houston Baker The Journey Back, Robert B. Stepto From Behind the Veil, Barbara Christian Black Women Novelists, Michael S. Harper and Robert Stepto Chant of Saints, and of course even further back, Sterling A. Brown's and Ulys- ses Lee's seminal anthology, The Negro Caravan. I cite these particular studies for no reason other than to suggest that each in its fashion attempts to cover large units of literary history. In that sense, Wrestling Angels into Song can be said to make much smaller claims (though, I think, no less important ones), if only because I have not attempted to be comprehensive: my interests in ancestry are much more tightly focused. When I began this project as a dissertation, neither Gaines nor McPherson had received much in the way of critical attention; the former had become a representative figure in the sense that his writing is often used to portray life in the South (as evidenced by the three films based on his fiction) but the latter had only been mentioned in the chapters of several books (most notably Keith Byer- man's fine study, Fingering the Jagged Grain) and some scattered articles. And few scholars had begun to consider either writer's work in terms of how he addressed matters of citizenship or, for that matter, the issue of how to "place" them. It has not been my intention here to suggest that Gaines or McPherson should be neatly "boxed." If anything, in reading their work one finds that they resist this impulse with great fervor. But I did want to find new ways to read them, and in doing so to begin to see African American literary production in terms that were not so mono- lithic. For it is most certainly the case that as McPherson and Gaines were making aesthetic choices other writers were as well. That those -viii- |