Lovecraft Country’s first reference to Emmett Till, the real-life 14-year-old victim of a 1955 lynching was so fleeting you might have missed it. Back in episode three, Dee (Jada Harris) and a group of friends were messing about with a Ouija board in the attic of the Winthrop House when one “Bobo” (Till’s neighbourhood nickname) makes ominous mention to his upcoming trip to Mississippi. There was no missing the references in this episode, however, for better and for worse.
The whole extended family (notably minus Hippolyta) were queueing up in the oppressive heat to pay their respects at Till’s open-casket funeral (history students will be aware of how this event helped spark the civil rights movement). Some queasy closeups on Ruby and Leti’s faces, make clear this is difficult for everyone. It’s particularly hard, though, on Dee, who is mourning a close friend, in addition to having recently lost her father and – possibly – her mother.
Please let nothing bad happen to Dee! The dread of these opening scenes is also of a particularly queasy kind. We can reassure ourselves that killing off a child character would be a plot twist too far, then remember a millisecond later that actual children, like Emmet “Bobo” Till, did indeed – and still do – meet such terrible fates. Dee hadn’t got far when a police car pulled up behind her and our old foe Captain Lancaster (Mac Brandt) leapt out, brandishing the incriminating copy of Dee’s Orithyia Blue comic. After asking what she knew about magic he cast a spell by anointing her forehead with some gobbed-up phlegm. Gross.
We had to wait a little while to discover the exact effects of this spell and, in the meantime Ji-Ah had made it all the way from Daegu, Korea to Leti’s house, in search of her ex, Tic. Awkwardly, Tic isn’t there though, because he’s at the Braithwaite family crypt, offering Christina the key to Hiram’s time machine, in exchange for instructions on how to cast a protection spell (Christina’s weekly exposition scenes are a drag, but at least this one was livened up by Tic’s own informational titbits).
An upset Dee arrives back home, where Montrose is waiting with some lies about her mother’s whereabouts and some hard truths about racial injustice. Neither is much comfort, so she scarpers out the bathroom window, but not before placing a baseball hat on her head and getting freaked out by a possessed copy of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. As it transpired, Dee was being stalked by the racist “controlling imagery” from American popular culture, specifically Topsy, a creation of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s 1852 novel which later became a stock character in blackface mistrelsy. (Their jerky movements and ghastly smiles also reminded me of “The Tethered” in exec producer Jordan Peele’s 2019 horror movie Us.)
So Montrose’s pep talks leave much to be desired, but you’d still pick his shoulder to cry on over Christina’s, right? Right, Ruby?? Apparently not. It seems my gleeful prediction last week was correct, re these two continuing their relationship after the big William-is-Christina-is-William reveal. Only it’s much less fun than I’d hoped. Even Ruby needed a quick swig of shape-shifting potion to get her in the mood and that climax-induced metamorphosis scene was a bit much, wasn’t it?
Another disappointment? Ji-Ah’s underpowered comeback. She should have sashayed through the door in a fabulous, floor-length fox-fur coat and issued a few sassy rejoinders to remind Tic what he’s missing. Instead, Ji-Ah’s, stringy hair and nondescript black dress were easily dismissed, while Tic went running after his new love, Leti. Ji-Ah deserves better, from both the show’s writers and men in general. Hopefully that’s not the last we’ll see of her or her nine tails.
Tic-haters (your numbers are increasing!) will no doubt find more evidence for their irrational prejudices here. In fairness though, he had more on his mind than usual, as proven by the scene, in which Montrose and Tic sat side-by-side on the kerb to unpack some mutual emotional baggage. “Did you cheat on my mama?” is a funny way to say hello, but it did succeed in starting the conversation.
The Lovecraft Country paperback that Tic has been carrying around was picked up during his brief trip to the future (“Hippolyta’s not the only one who went through the portal”), where he also learned of Leti’s pregnancy. Their child is the “George Freeman” who’ll grow up to write said novel about his family. “Some of the details are different,” Tic clarified. “Christina is a man, Uncle George survived Ardham and Dee’s a boy named ‘Horace’.” (This is actually a list of all the key ways in which Matt Ruff’s book differs from the TV series. Neat!).
With Montrose’s help, Tic cast his protection spell and … nothing. More dramatic was Christina giving Leti a “Mark of Cain” on her stomach, but none of them were as brave as Dee, who, without any form of magical protection, spat on Captain Lancaster’s tie, questioned his hygiene habits and took on the terrifying Topsy herself. Go Dee!
Luckily Lancaster’s orrery obsession trumped his desire for revenge, but he was prevented from crossing the threshold of the Winthrop House (Leti’s residence) by the same magic that kept Christina out. Lancaster and his men opened fire on the house and Tic, when he later arrived at the scene. It was all looking pretty bleak, until rescue came from the most unlikely of places: a Shoggoth! These original Mythos beasts hate police, but seemed tame to Tic’s touch. Guess that protection spell did work, after all?
Listening guide
For a primer on the central place that minstrelsy plays in the development of American musical culture you cannot do better than episode three of Nikole Hannah-Jones’s 1619 podcast. Wesley Morris lays it all out, and what he says is relevant to almost every track this week.
Not least, Bananarama’s 1984 hit Cruel Summer, which played while crowds milled outside Emmet Till’s funeral. We’re used to the anachronism by now, but the choice of a Motown influenced all-white girl group was interesting.
The grotesque horror of Topsy and her double Bopsy is intensified by their theme music. “Stop Dat Knocking” is a typical example of the music sung as part of a 19th century minstrel show.
“I am here today to acknowledge and represent the African American girls whose stories don’t make the front page of every newspaper …” This week’s audio extract is the most up-to-date yet. It’s taken from a 2018 speech made by 11-year-old Naomi Wadler at March for Our Lives demonstration held a month after 17 people were killed in a school shooting in Parkland, Florida.
Additional notes
American racism is so horrifying precisely because of its fade-into-the-background ubiquity. What better example of this than advertising imagery? The Aunt Jemima “mammy” figure pops up in episode one, but here it’s “Rastus” the mascot for Cream of Wheat cereal whose eyes ominously follow Dee.
Does anyone recognise the team logo on Dee’s baseball hat? Either way, the return of the baseball bat as an anti-monster weapon, calls back to the multiple Jackie Robinson references in earlier episodes.
Lovecraft Country’s casting director isn’t the first to fancy a familial likeness between Jonathan Majors (Tic) and Michael K. Williams (Montrose). The two actors played younger/older versions of gay rights activist Ken Jones in 2017 miniseries When We Rise.
Does Christina’s seeming preference for Leti over Tic lend credence to the Wild Fan Theory about Leti’s bloodline that I laid out last week? Possibly …
Quote of the week
“I always thought my death would come at the end of a white man’s bullet or a rope. Imagine so much more jazz!” Montrose steps out of the closet and up to the plate (baseball metaphor intended).
