Reviewed by: Everyman by M Shelly Conner Jane Rosenberg LaForge (bio) everyman M Shelly Conner Blackstone Publishing https://www.blackstonepublishing.com/everyman-dat0.html#541=91 350 pages; Print, $17.99 Since the 1920s, scholars and writers have tracked the progress of the six million African Americans over sixty years who left the segregated South and headed north in what is known as the Great Migration, one of the largest movements of people in history. With notable exceptions—James Baldwin, for instance; and the women of Alice Walker's The Color Purple (1982)—the oral histories, sociological studies, poetry, and novels have been dominated by a heteronormative authority. In her new novel about the back-and-forth flow of people and their stories between the South and the nominal North, M Shelly Conner tries to correct this deficit, with arresting results. Conner's everyman—the name is just one of many of the book's mysteries—demonstrates how diverse is the village that goes into the making of one cis straight woman, as well as the durability and delicacy of family secrets supposedly buried in the ancestral homeland. In casting a wide net to excavate tales that might otherwise be neglected, Conner makes use of a broad swath of African American history and traditions. Some of the novel's most beguiling sequences occur when Conner mines the mythology of African American Hoodoo from New Orleans, enabling [End Page 70] a mother to protect her daughter from a potential predator. The education of one gangster reads at the beginning like a slave narrative, with a young innocent saving the life of a stranger on the run. That gangster's name, and how his mother settled on it, suggests a possible liaison between his mother and a famous white railroad tycoon. It's a far-fetched premise, especially since the tycoon and his actual son, with the same name, don't fit into the novel's timeline. (There are other glitches between the world of the novel and the historical record, especially in terms of popular culture.) But the interlocking stories between gay and straight life, such as the symbiotic existence of Blacks and whites, serve to remind how one has always informed the other through a tangle of memories, fears, desires, and denial—even if one side cannot acknowledge that truth. The scope of the novel, with its nonbinary characters, leaves open the question why Conner did not make her protagonist gay or gender-nonconforming. Every Mann, also known as Eve, is not even a particularly good gay ally. She is "devastated" to learn her childhood friend Nelle is a lesbian and calls her own thoughts about homosexuality "disturbingly impure." Eve rationalizes her distaste for Nelle's sexuality not through church teachings or conventional morality but through the politics of the period: "Eve had been indoctrinated in the 1960s Black Power politics of black babies for the revolution and gays and lesbians could not naturally produce them." Nelle, meanwhile, calls Eve's desire "to really find myself in this world" a "straight luxury"—that even her best friend is too enveloped in her own needs to acknowledge Nelle's particular struggle. Yet the bulk of the novel takes place in 1972, when the options for Black liberation have been cut down by government persecution and state-sanctioned violence. To satisfy the requirements of a college class led by Brother LeRoi (whose name evokes the late Amiri Baraka's birth name, Everett LeRoi Jones), Eve must write a family history. The assignment collides with both the determination of Eve's aunt to reveal nothing and the declining influence of the Black Panther Party in Chicago. If Eve is to liberate herself from the subjugation of her aunt's shame, she will have to embark on a path of self-discovery that is not only narrowly focused but also personal. What Eve uncovers when she travels to the railroad town of Ideal, in Macon County, Georgia, is a sprawling, sometimes brutal history that might [End Page 71] otherwise be lost to treachery and humiliation. Eve's particular quest for the origins of her name recalls Frederick Douglass's attempts to learn the name...