BESSIE SMITH

Kay is the former National Poet of Scotland as well as a novelist and creative writing professor, and Smith’s artistry has been one of her lifelong passions. This update of her 1997 book, now published for the first time in the U.S., features a new introduction that reinforces both the timeliness and timelessness of her subject. Her “blues are current,” writes Kay, “and her narratives are even eerily prescient.” The author frames her subject within the era of MeToo and Black Lives Matter but most of all in terms of “the shift in attitudes to gay and trans people [that] has been the biggest social change of our lifetime.” Yet Kay’s subject is deeply personal for her as a Black woman adopted by a White family in suburban Glasgow. The book is less a standard biography (though it draws heavily from Chris Albertson’s 1971 standard-bearer, Bessie) than an illumination of the process of coming to terms with the power of her music and the tragedy of her life, which also included alcoholism and spousal abuse. Smith died in a car crash in 1937, and her grave was left unmarked until 1970. Kay combines a variety of threads, including a discussion of the spell cast by Smith’s music on the author in her formative years, a critique of Smith’s lyrics, and an analysis of the racism and other prejudice the artist endured for years. There are extended italicized passages in which Kay attempts to situate herself within Smith’s heart and soul, trying her best to approximate the dialect and to speak truth where documentation is lacking. This is not a matter-of-fact record of a life; it’s ultimately about the power of the music on the listener and the enduring legacy left by the singer.

Within passionate advocacy such as this, the Empress of the Blues lives on.