They came from all over the Chicago area and nation Thursday to pay respects to the author whose effusive lyricism earned him the title of the James Joyce of Chicago’s South Side, a teacher who had been a mentor to thousands of students in nearly a quarter century at Northwestern University, a scholar who believed in the redemptive power of literature.
Leon Forrest, who was born 60 years ago to a working class composer-bartender father and jazz-devoted mother, died of prostate cancer last week.
At St. Mary Church in Evanston, not far from where he lived, a song-filled mass reflected the range of his ambitions and tastes–from the operatic “Ave Maria” to the low-moaning jubilation of “A City Called Heaven.”
Forrest may not have been the type of author who sold millions of books and made best-seller lists. But he had an impact on the nation’s literary landscape in numerous other significant ways.
Luminaries such as Toni Morrison, who was his editor at Random House, Eugene Redmond and John Edgar Wideman often attested to his grace and humanity.
“He made many of his contemporaries feel good about being writers, not simply because he was a good man and kind man but also because he was a very generous and unassuming teacher,” said Wideman, who visited Forrest three weeks ago but was unable to make the funeral.
“Leon stood for the highest standards, with the patience to take all the time that is necessary to put the right words in place to find the truest feelings and truest expressions that went with them. His example is daunting because he achieved his goals so often.”
Sterling Plumpp, a poet and cultural historian who teaches at the University of Illinois at Chicago, attended and was visibly moved by the service at St. Mary’s Church.
He said that another achievement of Forrest’s “was that he weaved myths and the human spirit into triumph, providing a greater vision into the souls of folks rather than the weight of the chains borne. His approach to literature is itself a liberation.”
Forrest also encouraged legions of emerging writers, such as Valerie Boyd, Kelle Hutchinson, Jabari Asim and Daniel Wideman.
He taught African-American studies and English at Northwestern, where he became known for challenging and championing his students.
“One challenge that he leaves for us is how to balance our craft and profession while being available and generous with people,” said Sandra L. Richards, a professor of African-American studies and theater at Northwestern. “Entering his work was like wandering into some jazz session that made you pay attention. There is a polyphony of sounds and perspectives–like tragedy, humor and seeming ruckus. But out of all that chaos, he was most impressed with the way the human spirit could soar.”
In his works, Forrest combined the aesthetic of jazz improvisation with the fire and redemption of the African-American church, often infusing his work with long sermons and homilies. The 1,138-page “Divine Days,” the most significant of his four award-winning novels, is often measured in pounds rather than in chapters.
After the service, colleagues and admirers continued their testimonies. Noted American sculptor Richard Hunt, who commissioned Forrest to write the libretto for the opera “Re-Creation” (with T.J. Anderson scoring the music) was mournful but steadfast.
“Leon was a brother to me, in spirit and creativity, without the sibling rivalry that blood brothers usually have,” he said. “He was great as an artist and great as a human being.”
“And he was never taken in by the current intellectual fads,” said Madhu Dubey, who teaches African-American studies at Northwestern. “He had a sharp and honest way of getting underneath the fluff, and I was able to talk with him with complete honesty about supposedly sacred subjects.”
The funeral also was attended by such writers as Reginald Gibbons and Michael Anania as well as art curator and historian Gwendolyn Robinson, graphic artist Joeff Trimmingham and actor and Columbia College professor Catherine Slade, with whom he had worked when he was editor of the newspaper Muhammad Speaks.
Author and historian Glennette Tilley Turner said of Forrest: “I thought of him as a writer who nurtured other writers, but I had known about him forever and thought everyone else had.
“The volume of books sold is no yardstick to measure Leon Forrest’s greatness.”
