I was asked if I would post book reviews here by someone on both this and another site. I have nearly a dozen years worth of reviews I did for the Galveston Daily News since I first started reviewing books for them in 2006. So, I figured I would start putting up some of the early reviews. Kind of a re-review. A good book only improves with age, and the ones I post will be ones I believe need a fresh look.
This week’s entry follows:
Book gets readers acquainted with history
By Mark Lardas
The Daily News
Published November 19, 2006
“Texas Zydeco,” by Roger Wood, University of Texas Press, 2006, 336 pages, $34.95
In the first 20 pages of Roger Wood’s book, “Texas Zydeco,” a reader only casually acquainted with zydeco music learns three things:
- Zydeco is not Cajun — it is Creole.
- The signature rubboard, that corrugated metal vest worn and played by a member of a zydeco band, is not an improvised washboard — it is a specialized musical instrument.
- Zydeco’s Texas roots are as deep — possibly deeper — as its Louisiana roots.
These are a taste of the surprises in this delightful book.
Wood traces zydeco from its beginnings through the present. Wood reveals that, zydeco originated in Texas.
Developed by job-seeking black Catholics from Louisiana who flocked to Texas refinery towns along the upper Gulf Coast in the middle of the 20th century, zydeco borrows heavily from the French culture of these Louisiana expatriates.
Yet Texas is as essential to zydeco as Louisiana. The accordion and French language of Louisiana were merged with the Texas fiddle and guitar to create a unique sound.
The rubboard — more properly, a percussion vest — is also a Texas native. Even the word “zydeco” reveals the music’s bi-state nature. It is an anglicized spelling of a French word coined by a Louisiana native then living in Houston.
“Texas Zydeco” is as much a social history of the Creole Texas as it is a history of zydeco music.
You learn about Houston’s Frenchtown and the black communities along the “zydeco corridor” that runs from Lafayette, La., to Houston as you learn about the music. The two are intertwined.
It is also a personal book. You learn about the musicians’ lives and families along with their music.
Wood presents the development of zydeco, from the earliest trends that emerged in post-World War II Houston, through today’s competing zydeco styles — from nouveau through neo-traditional. If you did not know the difference between a button accordion and a piano accordion, you might be fascinated by the competition that arises between these schools.
The text is lavishly accompanied with images captured by photographer James Fraher, illustrating the zydeco scene. The mood generated by the black-and-white photographs accentuates the story told by Wood. Fraher’s photographs are as crisp as Wood’s words.
“Texas Zydeco” could be classified as a coffee table book, but it is not superficial. It is a valuable reference for anyone serious about zydeco, and an entertaining and absorbing introduction to zydeco for those unacquainted with it.
Mark Lardas, an engineer, freelance writer, amateur historian and model-maker, lives in League City. His website is marklardas.com.
Interesting, Seawriter.
In this case is creole denoting mixed race or colonials?
I believe it is Gulf of Mexico French culture (as exemplified by Haiti, Tortuga, and New Orleans) rather than Acadian French (or Cajun), imported into Louisiana from the Atlantic Northeast.
There is a lot more black influence in Creole than Cajun, for the simple reason the Acadians did not have black slaves before being relocated to Louisiana. As well, the Gulf and Caribbean French intermarried more with blacks. Josephine (the one Napoleon married) and Alexandre Dumas were Creole, with part-black ancestry.
Seawriter
When did the meaning of Creole change from designating the colonial born children of, for example, the Spanish in South America? I know this off topic. . .
Dunno
You’re not going to tell what’s the French word that was Anglicized?
Should I? It is beans. Seriously.
It derives from the French phrase Les haricots ne sont pas salés, which, when spoken in the Louisiana Creole French, sounds as “leh-zy-dee-co nuh sohn pah salay.” In English this means the snap beans are not salty.
Seawriter
Ha! Thanks, I like oddities in language like that.
Great review. I learned a lot. Thank you.
They’re back!
One of the few things I liked about the old site were you’re reviews. If it isn’t too much trouble, keep them up.
I have nearly a dozen years worth of reviews, starting in 2006. I saved them all. I did not start posting them on Ricochet until late in 2012. I believe I can do this for a while without repeating anything published earlier.
Seawriter
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