The Known World

by Edward P. Jones Narrated by Kevin R. Free

Overview

In one of the most acclaimed novels in recent memory, Edward P. Jones, two-time National Book Award finalist, tells the story of Henry Townsend, a black farmer and former slave who falls under the tutelage of William Robbins, the most powerful man in Manchester County, Virginia. Making certain he never circumvents the law, Townsend runs his affairs with unusual discipline. But when death takes him unexpectedly, his widow, Caldonia, can't uphold the estate's order and chaos ensues. In a daring and ambitious novel, Jones has woven a footnote of history into an epic that takes an unflinching look at slavery in all of its moral complexities.

Performed by Kevin Free

Editorial Reviews

Time magazine

A masterpiece that deserves a place in the American literary canon.

Boston Globe

Destined for a permanent spot on the...shelf of great American novels about slavery, next to Morrison...and Faulkner.

Essence

An incredible saga.

Chicago Tribune Books

A grand and inspired work of historical fiction. . .[It] deserves every word of praise that comes its way.

Dallas Morning News

Heartrending....[The Known World] walks with the pace and solemnity of the Bible.

QBR: The Black Book Review

Complex, beautifully written, and breathtaking...the book will knock the wind out of you with the depth of its compassion.

People (4-Starred Critic's Choice)

This...magical novel will touch you in a profound way.

Fort Worth Star-Telegram

Once you start the book you are hooked....Consider this novel necessary reading.

The Washington Times

Stunning....Pitch-perfect....Too much cannot be said about Mr. Jones gifts as a storyteller and a stylist.

St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Brilliant...Jones’ novel movingly evokes one small landscape of a larger map that so stubbornly yields up its truths today

USA Today

Beautifully written . . .[it] ought to enjoy the massive readership that Charles Frazier’s runaway hit, Cold Mountain did.

Book Magazine

Vivid....[An] epic novel.

Booklist (starred)

A profoundly beautiful and insightful look at American slavery and human nature.

Seattle Times

Extraordinary.....Nothing...quite prepares readers for the imaginative leaps and technical prowess of ‘The Known World.’

Time Out New York

A major achievement.

Philadelphia Inquirer

Fascinating . . .There is grief and fear, genuine affection an envy in this complex and fine novel.

Newsweek

Heartbreaking....fascinating.

San Diego Union-Tribune

’The Known World’ is a great novel, one that may eventually be placed with the best of American Literature.

O Magazine

One of those rare works of fiction that both wound and heal.

Speakeasy

If Jones. . .keeps up this level of work, he’ll equal the best fiction Toni Morrison has written about being black in America.

New York Times

Stunning....His first novel is...likely to win acclaim.

Peter Matthiessen

A strong, intricate, daring book by a writer of deep compassion and uncommon gifts.

Baltimore Sun

Fascinating...poignant....[A] complex and fine novel.

Atlanta Journal-Constitution

Brilliant....Glorious....[The Known World] belongs on the shelf with other classics of slavery, like Toni Morrison’s “Beloved.

Newsday

” An exemplar of historical fiction. . . [it] will subdue your preconceptions, enrich your perceptions and trouble your sleep.. . .The way Jones tells this story. . .recalls Cormac McCarthy, William Faulkner and Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Entertainment Weekly

Breathtaking....A fascinating counterweight to Toni Morrison’s Beloved....It is essential reading.

Time

A masterpiece that deserves a place in the American literary canon.

The New Yorker

Jones has written a book of tremendous moral intricacy.

Time Magazine

"A masterpiece that deserves a place in the American literary canon."

QBR: The Black Book Review

"Complex, beautifully written, and breathtaking...the book will knock the wind out of you with the depth of its compassion."

(4-Starred Critic's Choice) - People Magazine

"This...magical novel will touch you in a profound way."

(starred) - Booklist

"A profoundly beautiful and insightful look at American slavery and human nature."

People

This...magical novel will touch you in a profound way.

Starred Library Journal

” An exemplar of historical fiction. . . [it] will subdue your preconceptions, enrich your perceptions and trouble your sleep.. . .The way Jones tells this story. . .recalls Cormac McCarthy, William Faulkner and Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

QBR-The Black Book Review

Complex, beautifully written, and breathtaking...the book will knock the wind out of you with the depth of its compassion.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940173468758
Publisher:	HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:	06/16/2021
Edition description:	Unabridged

Related Subjects

• Fiction
• Awards
• Literature
• Peoples & Cultures - Fiction
• Fiction Subjects
• Historical Fiction
• African Americans - Fiction & Literature
• Literary Fiction
• Politics & Social Issues - Fiction
• 19th Century Historical Fiction - General & Miscellaneous
• African Americans - Historical Fiction
• Literary Fiction - Other
• Slavery - Fiction
• Awadhi dialect->Verb
• Chaucer, Geoffrey (-1400)->Miller's tale
• Ripley, William Nottidge (-1912)
• Soils->Scotland->Girvan region
• 2001-2010->Fiction->Pulitzer Prize
• 2003 National Book Awards->Fiction Finalists
• 2004 Anisfield-Wolf Book Award
• 2005 International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award Shortlist
• 2005 International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award Winner
• Fiction->National Book Critics Circle Award Winners
• New York Times Editor's Choice 2003
• People Magazine's Top Ten Books of 2003
• Publishers Weekly's Best Fiction of 2003
• US News & World Report Favorite Books of 2003

Read an Excerpt

The Known World

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By Edward P. Jones

Harper Collins Publishers

Copyright © 2003 Edward P. Jones All right reserved. ISBN: 0060557540

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Chapter One

Liaison. The Warmth of Family.

Stormy Weather.

The evening his master died he worked again well after he ended the day for the other adults, his own wife among them, and sent them back with hunger and tiredness to their cabins. The young ones, his son among them, had been sent out of the fields an hour or so before the adults, to prepare the late supper and, if there was time enough, to play in the few minutes of sun that were left. When he, Moses, finally freed himself of the ancient and brittle harness that connected him to the oldest mule his master owned, all that was left of the sun was a five-inch-long memory of red orange laid out in still waves across the horizon between two mountains on the left and one on the right. He had been in the fields for all of fourteen hours. He paused before leaving the fields as the evening quiet wrapped itself about him. The mule quivered, wanting home and rest. Moses closed his eyes and bent down and took a pinch of the soil and ate it with no more thought than if it were a spot of cornbread. He worked the dirt around in his mouth and swallowed, leaning his head back and opening his eyes in time to see the strip of sun fade to dark blue and then to nothing. He was the only man in the realm, slave or free, whoate dirt, but while the bondage women, particularly the pregnant ones, ate it for some incomprehensible need, for that something that ash cakes and apples and fatback did not give their bodies, he ate it not only to discover the strengths and weaknesses of the field, but because the eating of it tied him to the only thing in his small world that meant almost as much as his own life.

This was July, and July dirt tasted even more like sweetened metal than the dirt of June or May. Something in the growing crops unleashed a metallic life that only began to dissipate in mid-August, and by harvest time that life would be gone altogether, replaced by a sour moldiness he associated with the coming of fall and winter, the end of a relationship he had begun with the first taste of dirt back in March, before the first hard spring rain. Now, with the sun gone and no moon and the darkness having taken a nice hold of him, he walked to the end of the row, holding the mule by the tail. In the clearing he dropped the tail and moved around the mule toward the barn.

The mule followed him, and after he had prepared the animal for the night and came out, Moses smelled the coming of rain. He breathed deeply, feeling it surge through him. Believing he was alone, he smiled. He knelt down to be closer to the earth and breathed deeply some more. Finally, when the effect began to dwindle, he stood and turned away, for the third time that week, from the path that led to the narrow lane of the quarters with its people and his own cabin, his woman and his boy. His wife knew enough now not to wait for him to come and eat with them. On a night with the moon he could see some of the smoke rising from the world that was the lane - home and food and rest and what passed in many cabins for the life of family. He turned his head slightly to the right and made out what he thought was the sound of playing children, but when he turned his head back, he could hear far more clearly the last bird of the day as it evening-chirped in the small forest far off to the left.

He went straight ahead, to the farthest edge of the cornfields to a patch of woods that had yielded nothing of value since the day his master bought it from a white man who had gone broke and returned to Ireland. "I did well over there," that man lied to his people back in Ireland, his dying wife standing hunched over beside him, "but I longed for all of you and for the wealth of my homeland." The patch of woods of no more than three acres did yield some soft, blue grass that no animal would touch and many trees that no one could identify. Just before Moses stepped into the woods, the rain began, and as he walked on the rain became heavier. Well into the forest the rain came in torrents through the trees and the mighty summer leaves and after a bit Moses stopped and held out his hands and collected water that he washed over his face. Then he undressed down to his nakedness and lay down. To keep the rain out of his nose, he rolled up his shirt and placed it under his head so that it tilted just enough for the rain to flow down about his face. When he was an old man and rheumatism chained up his body, he would look back and blame the chains on evenings such as these, and on nights when he lost himself completely and fell asleep and didn't come to until morning, covered with dew.

The ground was almost soaked. The leaves seemed to soften the hard rain as it fell and it hit his body and face with no more power than the gentle tapping of fingers. He opened his mouth; it was rare for him and the rain to meet up like this. His eyes had remained open, and after taking in all that he could without turning his head, he took up his thing and did it. When he was done, after a few strokes, he closed his eyes, turned on his side and dozed. After a half hour or so the rain stopped abruptly ...

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from The Known World by Edward P. Jones
Copyright © 2003 by Edward P. Jones
Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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