Special thanks to Caitlin from Baker/Brazos for a review copy of this book.
I’ve already reviewed one book by Stephen J Nichols, Jesus Made in America
, which made my top 5 new reads of 2008. I was so impressed, in fact, that I was genuinely excited when I heard he had a new book coming out, Getting the Blues: What Blues Music Teaches Us about Suffering and Salvation
. This was not only due to the fact that Nichols is an interesting and excellent writer, but it’s a genuinely unique book. I know more about blues music than most 20-something white guys from New England, but I’ll still admit most of what I know has to do with the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughan, which isn’t exactly old-school blues. Nichols’ book deals with “Delta Blues,” the blues music that sprang up from the Mississippi Delta in the early 20th century.
I was also intrigued by the irony of a book written by an educated, relatively affluent white man living in Lancaster PA dealing with the Delta Blues, a form of music developed and mastered by the black community living in a time when gross injustice and suffering was a daily reality in that region. This, of course, isn’t a knock on Nichols or any kind of statement that he somehow ought not to write such a book. I simply found it interesting. In fact, he notes in his book that he is on the outside looking in, an approach that may lead to thoughtful insights for the rest of us in the same position.
Nichols sets out to attempt “a theology in a minor key… I am not a musician, but a theologian, and so I offer a theological interpretation of the blues” (14). Noting that evangelicals tend to avoid dealing with the difficult aspects of life and the Bible, the blues can offer us something we desperately need: an honest look at the difficulties of life.
To be sure, Nichols shows us that the difficulties we encounter in blues music fall into different categories: women, racism, floods, insects, alcohol, etc. Sometimes those difficulties are to be expected- you run around with loose women, they’ll probably leave you for another man. Sometimes those difficulties are an unfortunate reality- natural disasters, for example. Other times those difficulties are injustices that ought to be righted- racism and the refusal to allow a better life for the sharecroppers living in the Delta region.
So the greatest strength of Nichols book is that he exposes us to more than just the blues music, he reveals the reason the blues existed, and even the theology (though I doubt any of the old blues singers would have used that word) behind it all. We are living in a painful and cursed world, awaiting the day when God sets all things right but striving to change our world for the better in the meantime. God’s ways are difficult to understand, but He is still merciful and present.
The tour of the world of the Delta Blues is fun in its own right. Some of the singers are well know: Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Ma Rainey. Others are folks I hadn’t heard of: Son House, Charley Patton and Thomas Dorsey (well, I should note that I never knew Dorsey had any connection to the blues). I even find myself inspired to start nicknaming some of my friends, though I noticed that they tend to be slightly repetitive in the Delta Blues world (Blind Lemon Jefferson, Blind Willie Johnson and The Reverend Blind Gary Davis).
Admittedly, there are times Nichols lapses into repetition, though its fewer than 200 pages. I suppose he can’t help that, after all, the subjects of blues songs don’t stray too far from the short list given above. And, this being my second Nichols book, I find myself contemplating the contrast between Nichols’ treatment of the blues singers and his treatment of contemporary Christian music in Jesus Made in America. He blasts (sometimes rightly so) contemporary Christian songwriters for their often shallow and trite lyrics, whereas he praises the blues songwriters for the depth of their insight into the human condition. I guess I can’t help but wonder if part of this is due to the fact that Nichols simply likes the blues more than CCM pop-candy. Mind you, I can’t blame him. If I had to choose between listening to Muddy Waters or Rebecca St James, it’s a no brainer.
But, in the end, the “theological” key is that the bluesmen (and women) are writing out of their pain and the pain of those around them. They recognize injustice and call it out when they see it. True, there may not be a strong variety in their lyrics (it doesn’t take long to notice some of the phrasings get recycled), but there probably wasn’t a strong variety of experience for them either. They weren’t allowed the luxury of variety. Thus, they lamented the pain and sought relief, sometimes from the bottle, sometimes from God, often from both.
Nichols is to be commended for writing another outstanding and incredibly fascinating book. It’s worth reading just for the insight into blues music. But more importantly, it’s worth reading because it helps us remember that there is a “minor key” to theology. There are times to lament and times to cry out for justice. Admitting that we live in a fallen and cursed world is not a lack of faith, it’s reality. The Delta Blues, perhaps more than any music form in recent times, helps us connect to this reality.