Over the next six months, the NPR-wide series In Character is taking a long look at fictional characters and their significance in our lives. Today commentator William Jelani Cobb talks about "Mudbone," a character created by the late Richard Pryor.
Cobb, a professor at Spelman College, is the author of To The Break of Dawn: A Freestyle on the Hip-Hop Aesthetic.
Audio transcript
FARAI CHIDEYA, host:
Today, we begin a new series called In Character. For the next six months, NPR will explore the origins and impact of famous fictional characters. From Bugs Bunny to Uncle Ben.
To kick off the series here on NEWS & NOTES, we're going to take a closer look at a character created by the legendary Richard Pryor.
(Soundbite of Richard Pryor's speech)
Mr. RICHARD PRYOR (Actor): When I was little, there was an old man. His name was Mudbone and he (unintelligible) and he sit in front the barbeque pit, and he'd spit. See? That was his job. I'm pretty sure that was his job. Well, that's all he's get.
CHIDEYA: Like all great fictional characters, Mudbone has a lot to tell us about ourselves. Here's commentator William Jelani Cobb with the tribute to Richard Pryor's Mudbone.
Prof. WILLIAM JELANI COBB (Commentator): Way down on the dirt roads of American culture, they have a saying that every shuteye ain't sleep. It wasn't invented to describe Mudbone, but it should've been. Equal parts Wino and wise man, Mudbone served as Richard Pryor's comedic alter ego. A figure who told the straight, high-octane truth, but masked it inside humor. He was in essence that older relatives, who has reached an age where he feels he can say anything without consequences.
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) I was born in Peoria, Illinois, that's a city (bleep).
(Soundbite of laughter)
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) You probably wouldn't know nothing about that see. Old country (bleep).
(Soundbite of laughter)
Prof. COBB: Richard Pryor may have built the character on memories of a street corner philosopher in his native Peoria, but it was clear from the start that Mudbone was meant to be a slightly tipsy every man, who's double vision gave him insights that the sober couldn't see. He spoke on a salty, inebriated diction that stressed words until it seems he had created a new set of vowels.
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) I worked for this white man, he's name was Board Jenner and - I was, and he was all right to work for. See. He is all right for a white man, he wasn't bad, see. But he had a son named Junior, he was co*ckeye.
(Soundbite of laughter)
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) We called him co*ckeye Junior.
(Soundbite of laughter)
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) And he was hard to work for, man, because his eyes went everywhere when he's eating.
(Soundbite of laughter)
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) They say (bleep) pick that up, you know, and four, five (bleep) been down.
(Soundbite of laughter)
Prof. COBB: Mudbone tossed around N-words and B-words, D-words, P-words, and adjectival variations of the F-word. But there was a lot more to him than cuss words. Inside his foul mouth parables was a layer of meaning that was as profound as it was hilarious. In one particularly ironic instance, Mudbone talks about working on the crew of the 1915 film, "Birth of a Nation," where he witnessed director D.W. Griffith stealing film ideas from his black assistant.
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) So, you know D.W. Griffith, he invented the close-up, right? And the (unintelligible) "Birth of a Nation," see? He was doing a movie I've been working on. And (bleep) gave him the idea of a close-up. Ain't no getting no credit, right? (bleep) said, hey, Mr. Director, see that big and old (bleep) over there…
(Soundbite of laughter)
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) …why don't you put the camera right up close to his (bleep) and get his face all over the screen. You go make you some money with that (bleep) face.
Prof. COBB: If Mudbone couldn't taken at his word, his stories managed to be true, even when they weren't factual. He tells of being slapped by a white woman back in Mississippi. As revenge, she saws out most of the flooring in the outhouse and then waits for her to answer nature's call. When he hears a splash, he gets in his tractor and heads to Peoria. On its face, this is a comic tale, but beneath it, Mudbone is really reefing on the racial dynamics of the great migration. The truth is that the humiliation and disrespect Mudbone described were among the primary reasons that nearly two million African-Americans left the South during the first half of the 20th century. Having reached a certain age, Mudbone was not unaware of his own significance, telling one audience.
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) You don't get to be old being old fool.
(Soundbite of applause)
Mr. PRYOR: (As Mudbone) A lot of young wise men are dead in the (bleep).
(Soundbite of laughter)
Prof. COBB: Later in Pryor's career, Mudbone became a sort of mouth piece, giving a running op-ed, not only on American history and culture, but also the comedian's own demons. In "Live on the Sunset Strip," Pryor's first performance after he set himself on fire while freebasing cocaine, Mudbone tells of how much he admires his friend Richard Pryor, but just can't get to commit to stop abusing drugs. Mudbone tells Pryor that if religion isn't his thing, ballet might help him kick the habit and tells the audience that he won't have that kind of problem because, quote, "I'm still hungry." And if Mudbone was still hungry, we knew that the best portion of Pryor was still intact.
CHIDEYA: William Jelani Cobb is a professor at Spelman College and the author of "To The Break of Dawn: A Freestyle on the Hip-Hop Aesthetic."
In Character, our series exploring famous fictional American characters, continues on NEWS & NOTES later this month with an examination of Jim from Huck Finn. You can learn more about the series at npr.org.
