I've just re-read Larry Karp's The Ragtime Kid, and just as you shouldn't play ragtime too fast, you shouldn't read Karp's book too fast, either, lest you miss the music of his prose and the nuances of the stories he tells.
In this, his latest book, it's 1899, and young piano player Brun Campbell has run away from his rural home in Oklahoma to Sedalia, Missouri. He's only just heard ragtime for the first time, and hopes to learn this new music from the master himself, Scott Joplin. Arriving in Sedalia, and looking for a room for the night, he stumbles, literally, upon the body of a woman, and picks up two objects that will become vital to the solution of her murder. He finds employment at a music store, and begins studying with Joplin, but when a man he knows is innocent is arrested, Brun is, however unwillingly, drawn into the search for the real murderer.
Though Sedalia is a town filled with music, it is only 30 years since the end of the War Between the States, and racism is very much a part of this story. Joplin insists on being taken seriously as a musician, and receiving royalties on the sheet music which will bear his name as composer, an unprecedented demand for the times. Thus, another plot line develops, as Joplin pursues his ambitions despite some unprincipled and amoral adversaries.
The characters here are a mixture of real, from Joplin and Campbell and other musical figures, and fictional, to some of the townspeople. In skin color, they are black and they are white, and in character they are black and white, as well, but the two categories do not necessarily overlap. Brun himself is a fifteen-year-old, a musical Huck Finn in some ways, coming of age in a world more complex than he ever imagined, and he's learning, at first hand, what black and white are all about. As events unfold, Karp vividly captures the sheer awfulness of racial (and other) bias as it was then.
Just as there are two plot lines, there are two narrative voices here, speaking in a gentle counterpoint. One voice is someone who knows Brun and tells his part of the story, occasionally noting that "Brun once told [him]" about one event or another. The other voice is an omniscient third-person narrator, who recounts Joplin's story, and the ongoing search for the murderer of the woman whose body Brun found. As Brun's music lessons commence, his plot and Joplin's intertwine, connected by some unscrupulous music promoters, and by his own efforts to absolve the innocent man.
All the characters, and some of them are surprising, are vividly realized, and they all speak very much in their own voices. Those voices, moreover, are often eloquent. Early in the book, Joplin tells Brun that ragtime is like "a bright sunny day, just a perfect day, but . . . sooner or later, the lovely day will have to end." Even more moving is a grieving father's lament for the brutal death of his son, which he knows will not be investigated: "[We] was born slaves, and now we been set free, but I don't see the leas' difference. White men kill us on the plantation, they kill us now, an' it's no matter."
From the geography of Sedalia to its weather, the sense of place in the novel is intense. It's a book that takes place in a hot Missouri summer, when the air is "close to drinkable," and we breathe in that heat and humidity as we follow Brun through the city. More characters appear, his life becomes more complicated, and as he puzzles out the solution to the murder, the action leads up to a triple denouement. First there's a violent confrontation with some brutal men, followed by an even more suspenseful encounter which culminates in the unmasking of a murderer. Then, in a shocking turnaround, Brun's own "lovely day" is over, and his life moves in a new direction.
The Ragtime Kid is a scrupulously researched look at a time in America's musical and social past, a fiction that can, as Karp notes in the concluding pages of his book, tell "a truth more striking and wondrous than any historical reality." It's a book written with humor (and not a little irony), with occasional pathos, and always with generosity . Listen to some Joplin while you read it