JAM: December 2001/January 2002 Issue: Storyville

TRADING TWELVES --
The Selected Letters of Ralph Ellison and Albert Murray

Edited by Albert Murray and John F. Callahan
Modern Library Original, 2000; in paperback, summer 2001
237 pages, $24.95

"It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer." -- E.B. White, Charlotte's Web, 1952

During the 1950s, still early in a relationship spanning nearly five decades, Albert Murray and Ralph Ellison wrote a series of letters compiled for the first time in Trading Twelves. Inspired by their shared love for jazz, the title reflects the similarity between two musicians exchanging twelve-bar riffs and the literary call-and-response between the authors. The epistles are a part of what Murray says is their "lifelong dialogue about life, literary craft, and American identity," and comprise a testament to friendship.

Their paths crossed in 1935 at Tuskegee Institute when Ellison was a junior and Murray a freshman, though they didn't actually meet until Murray's visit to New York in 1942. As a newcomer on campus, Murray was impressed with the music major's literary interests, which seemed richer than those of the English majors, and "the fact that he seemed to do things very much on his own rather than as a member of a group." On another, subsequent trip to the City, he regaled Ellison with a first-hand account of how the fictional buzzard in Ellison's short story "Flying Home" foretold a real one "barbecued" after impact with a bomber flown by a Tuskegee Airman, and friendship was born at last.

From the initial letter in 1950, the friendship deepens while their literary careers unfold at radically different paces. Ellison writes and publishes Invisible Man, reaping awards and recognition for the masterwork, then develops his second novel, all the while publishing shorter pieces in a variety of forums. Murray is writing too, but Train Whistle Guitar, his first novel (in an ultimately prominent body of work), is not published until 1974 due to teaching and military assignments.

Trading Twelves is excellent literary history, but also personally evocative, striking a wide range of emotional notes. Murray sets the stage with a general preface and brief comments preceding each of the three sections of correspondence. The letters ramble through riffs of ideas, interests, and opinions. Reverence for Duke Ellington is countered with a measure of contempt for Charlie Parker's bebop influence on less talented musicians. The authors trade inside information on academic and literary scenes -- Bellow, Faulkner and Hemingway are to Duke as others are to Bird. Whether a given letter gets its postmark in Tuskegee, Casablanca, or California (Murray), New York or Rome (Ellison), the American scene is also explored during an era of civil rights action and political transition. Topical interests translate directly into tangible elements of the personal scene; jazz means high fidelity equipment and vinyl records while literature means books themselves. Exchanges range from poignant, as when Ellison responds to word of Murray's heart attack, to practical, like the quest for camera equipment, haircuts, or pickling spice while overseas. The sweetness of the relationship is epitomized when Ellison closes a letter with love for Murray's wife and daughter -- "to lovable Mokable and Miqueable, from Ralphable."

In a June 1951 letter, Ellison trusts (tests?) Murray with the assertion that his novel-in-progress is "just a big fat ole Negro lie, meant to be told during cotton picking time over a water bucket full of corn, with a dipper passing back and forth at a good fast clip so that no one, not even the narrator himself, will realize how utterly preposterous the lie actually is." Ellison's 1981 introduction to an anniversary edition of Invisible Man sheds some light on what he meant decades before. He defines "lie" as an African-American folk term for an "improvised story," suggesting the barbershop as another fertile setting for such an oral tradition or folktale. Literary improvisation in the nature of jazz provided Ellison some fun while writing his novel, yet is even more evident in the mischievous fusion of technique he and Murray display throughout Trading Twelves.

"A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature," wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson, for whom Ellison was named. When he playfully signs one early letter "Ralph Taft Edison Ellison," Murray responds "Invisible Man equals IM equals I'M equals I AM," and he riffs on from there.

Fred McDarrah's back jacket photograph of the two authors captures a duet whom, as Murray proclaims, "conceded nothing to anybody when it came to defining what is American and what is not and not yet." Ellison's own skill as a photographer is reflected in eight pages of pictures. Fanny Ellison also contributes a wonderful picture she took of her husband, as well as two letters that display her own writing verve and wit.

As sideman, Ellison's literary executor John C. Callahan acts as editor with Murray and provides an introduction. These "liner notes" may be reserved until the end by readers who prefer going straight to the jam sessions. Callahan's deft tag line before the third section of letters resonates after the final written phrases from Murray and Ellison are played. When Murray moves to New York City in 1960, telephone calls and personal visits replace any correspondence beyond an annual exchange of Christmas cards. We are left to imagine what their verbal literary dialogue sounds like for the next five score years until Ellison's death in 1994.

"Maybe if there were not so many things I'd rather talk to you about than anybody else I know," Murray writes in a late letter, "I could do a better job of just keeping in touch." Despite seeing each other only a handful of times during the decade of correspondence, these good writers stay on the same frequency all along. The sounds we hear as they trade twelves signify for us what a rare masterpiece true friendship can be.

-- Tom Fredrick

RETURN TO DECEMBER 2001/JANUARY 2002 MAIN INDEX

© Kansas City Jazz Ambassadors 1996-2001. All rights reserved.






	Search our site:		TRADING TWELVES -- The Selected Letters of Ralph Ellison and Albert Murray Edited by Albert Murray and John F. Callahan Modern Library Original, 2000; in paperback, summer 2001 237 pages, $24.95 "It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer." -- E.B. White, Charlotte's Web, 1952 During the 1950s, still early in a relationship spanning nearly five decades, Albert Murray and Ralph Ellison wrote a series of letters compiled for the first time in Trading Twelves. Inspired by their shared love for jazz, the title reflects the similarity between two musicians exchanging twelve-bar riffs and the literary call-and-response between the authors. The epistles are a part of what Murray says is their "lifelong dialogue about life, literary craft, and American identity," and comprise a testament to friendship. Their paths crossed in 1935 at Tuskegee Institute when Ellison was a junior and Murray a freshman, though they didn't actually meet until Murray's visit to New York in 1942. As a newcomer on campus, Murray was impressed with the music major's literary interests, which seemed richer than those of the English majors, and "the fact that he seemed to do things very much on his own rather than as a member of a group." On another, subsequent trip to the City, he regaled Ellison with a first-hand account of how the fictional buzzard in Ellison's short story "Flying Home" foretold a real one "barbecued" after impact with a bomber flown by a Tuskegee Airman, and friendship was born at last. From the initial letter in 1950, the friendship deepens while their literary careers unfold at radically different paces. Ellison writes and publishes Invisible Man, reaping awards and recognition for the masterwork, then develops his second novel, all the while publishing shorter pieces in a variety of forums. Murray is writing too, but Train Whistle Guitar, his first novel (in an ultimately prominent body of work), is not published until 1974 due to teaching and military assignments. Trading Twelves is excellent literary history, but also personally evocative, striking a wide range of emotional notes. Murray sets the stage with a general preface and brief comments preceding each of the three sections of correspondence. The letters ramble through riffs of ideas, interests, and opinions. Reverence for Duke Ellington is countered with a measure of contempt for Charlie Parker's bebop influence on less talented musicians. The authors trade inside information on academic and literary scenes -- Bellow, Faulkner and Hemingway are to Duke as others are to Bird. Whether a given letter gets its postmark in Tuskegee, Casablanca, or California (Murray), New York or Rome (Ellison), the American scene is also explored during an era of civil rights action and political transition. Topical interests translate directly into tangible elements of the personal scene; jazz means high fidelity equipment and vinyl records while literature means books themselves. Exchanges range from poignant, as when Ellison responds to word of Murray's heart attack, to practical, like the quest for camera equipment, haircuts, or pickling spice while overseas. The sweetness of the relationship is epitomized when Ellison closes a letter with love for Murray's wife and daughter -- "to lovable Mokable and Miqueable, from Ralphable." In a June 1951 letter, Ellison trusts (tests?) Murray with the assertion that his novel-in-progress is "just a big fat ole Negro lie, meant to be told during cotton picking time over a water bucket full of corn, with a dipper passing back and forth at a good fast clip so that no one, not even the narrator himself, will realize how utterly preposterous the lie actually is." Ellison's 1981 introduction to an anniversary edition of Invisible Man sheds some light on what he meant decades before. He defines "lie" as an African-American folk term for an "improvised story," suggesting the barbershop as another fertile setting for such an oral tradition or folktale. Literary improvisation in the nature of jazz provided Ellison some fun while writing his novel, yet is even more evident in the mischievous fusion of technique he and Murray display throughout Trading Twelves. "A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature," wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson, for whom Ellison was named. When he playfully signs one early letter "Ralph Taft Edison Ellison," Murray responds "Invisible Man equals IM equals I'M equals I AM," and he riffs on from there. Fred McDarrah's back jacket photograph of the two authors captures a duet whom, as Murray proclaims, "conceded nothing to anybody when it came to defining what is American and what is not and not yet." Ellison's own skill as a photographer is reflected in eight pages of pictures. Fanny Ellison also contributes a wonderful picture she took of her husband, as well as two letters that display her own writing verve and wit. As sideman, Ellison's literary executor John C. Callahan acts as editor with Murray and provides an introduction. These "liner notes" may be reserved until the end by readers who prefer going straight to the jam sessions. Callahan's deft tag line before the third section of letters resonates after the final written phrases from Murray and Ellison are played. When Murray moves to New York City in 1960, telephone calls and personal visits replace any correspondence beyond an annual exchange of Christmas cards. We are left to imagine what their verbal literary dialogue sounds like for the next five score years until Ellison's death in 1994. "Maybe if there were not so many things I'd rather talk to you about than anybody else I know," Murray writes in a late letter, "I could do a better job of just keeping in touch." Despite seeing each other only a handful of times during the decade of correspondence, these good writers stay on the same frequency all along. The sounds we hear as they trade twelves signify for us what a rare masterpiece true friendship can be. -- Tom Fredrick RETURN TO DECEMBER 2001/JANUARY 2002 MAIN INDEX © Kansas City Jazz Ambassadors 1996-2001. All rights reserved.