Some novels grab you immediately and refuse to let you go until you have read through to the last page. James is such a novel. It's brilliant, astonishing, and packs an emotional wallop. I haven't read Huckleberry Finn in over 30 years, so I have no idea how closely Everett tracked to that book -- but it is irrelevant. As a sharp, funny, heartbreaking examination of slavery and life in nineteenth century America, James stands on its own, whether you have read Huckleberry Finn or not.