First, my confession: I've begun reading for my September challenges two days earlier. I just couldn't help myself. However, I'm not going to talk about them or list them until tomorrow. :)
Maggie hosted the Southern Reading Challenge, where participants were expected to read 3 books set in Southern places and written by Southern authors between June 1st and August 31st. Meanwhile, Maggie provided a lot of info about Southern authors, gave away a whole bunch of pecans, and hosted a Sense of Place contest, where readers had to find a picture to match a descriptive passage in one of their Southern books. I finished all three of my choices...
Delta Wedding by Eudora Welty
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
Cane River by Lalita Tademy
The best book: Delta Wedding, but I loved them all!
What book could I have done without? None!
Any new authors? All of them. :)
Books I did not finish: None!
What did I learn from this challenge? That reading Southern lit is great, and I should do more of it. :) Also, I learned quite abit about the Creole culture, which was neat.
(Note: thanks to Nyssaneala for the idea to have questions!)
Showing posts with label southern reading challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label southern reading challenge. Show all posts
Friday, August 31, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Delta Wedding (thoughts) and Sense of Place
And now to return you to your regularly-scheduled programming...
a book review! and a last-minute entry into Maggie's sense of place contest.
Sense of Place: Mississippi Delta
She rode by the thick woods where the whirlpool lay, and something made her get off her horse and creep to the bank and look in-she almost never did, it was so creepy and scary....There were more eyes than hers here-frog eyes-snake eyes? She listened to the silence and then heard it stir, churn, churning in the early morning. She saw how snakes were turning and moving in the water, passing across each other just below the surface, and now and then a head horridly sticking up. The vines and the cyprus roots twisted and grew together on the shore and in the water more thickly than any roots should grow, gray and red, and some roots too moved and floated like hair. (161)
Since I don't live anywhere near Mississippi (shame), I had to find a picture online. In the one I chose, I think that the lighting, and the crowded trees are right; the creepiness isn't as strong as in the passage, since there're no snakes in the picture. So, I'm bending the rules and adding one more image...
Now, on to what I thought of the book!
Before this, I hadn't even heard of Eudora Welty; when I saw that Maggie highly recommended her, I decided to give her a try. Welty's known for her short stories, but I really wanted a novel for the challenge, and I went with Delta Wedding since it was longer than her other ones.
If I could describe the book in one word, I'd choose languid ("Slow; lacking vigor or force"). I mean that in a good way; the story feels very dreamy, and I can imagine laying on a porch, with a fan going slowly overhead, being too hot to even hold my head up for very long. The story is a portrait of the well-off Fairchilds family, who have gathered at their plantation for Dabney's wedding. It's set in the 1920s, and it feels very natural. Welty uses first-person throughout, but she switches which character we're seeing the world with. Thus, the reader gets a really good look at both family dynamics and how the different members see the world.
The richness of the story lies in both how different Welty can make the internal monologues of various characters and in her gorgeous prose. I felt like I was in Mississippi, and I strongly identified with all of the people, even though my background is nothing like theirs. This is a book that catches you by surprise; it feels like nothing is happening action-wise, but several characters go through emotional crises that feel as active as more traditional plots.
Ok, I'm not really getting my point across. I feel like this always happens with books that I really love! I think everyone who loves being immersed in a book, who enjoys character-driven novels, or who loves the South should definitely pick this book up. Reading it felt like eating ice cream on a hot day; a decadent treat that ends too quickly.
Favourite Passages
Grass softly touched her legs and her garter rosettes, growing sweet and springy for this was the country. On the narrow little walk along the front of the house, hung over with closing lemon lilies, there was a quieting and vanishing of sound. It was not yet dark. The sky was the color of violets, and the snow-white moon in the sky had not yet begun to shine. (6-7)
The girls that were old enough, dressed in colors called jade and flamingo, danced with each other around the dining-room table until the boys came to get them, and could be watched from the upper landing covorting below, like marvelous mermiads down a transparent sea. (9)
They were so filled with their energy that once when Laura saw some old map on the wall, with the blowing winds in the corners, mischievous-eyed and round-cheeked, blowing the ships and dolphins around Scotland, Laura had asked her mother if they were India's four brothers. (15)
The Fairchilds' movements were quick and on the instant, and that made you wonder, are they free? Laura was certain that they were compelled-their favorite word. Flying against the bad things happening, they kissed you in rushes of tenderness. Maybe their delight was part of their beauty, its flicker as it went by, and their kissing of not only you but everybody in the room was a kind of spectacle, an outward thing. (18)
Her brown hair and her dark-blue eyes seemed part of her quietness-like the colors of water, reflective. Her Virginia voice, while no softer or lighter than theirs, was a less questioning, a never teasing one. It was a voice to speak to the one child or the one man her eyes would go to. Tyey all watched her with soft eyes, but distractedly. She was one of those little mothers that the wind seems almost to hurt, and they they needed to look after her. (24)
It was eternally cool in summer in this house; like the air of a dense little velvet-green wood it touched your forehead with stillness. Even the phone had a ring like a tiny silver bell. (51)
It was so hard to read at Shellmound. There was so much going on in real life. Laura had tried to read under the bed that morning, but Dabney had found her and pulled her out by the foot. Now with Volune I of Saint Ronan's Well inside her pinafore, next to her skin, she went tiptoeing in the direction of the library, where no one ever went at this hour. (69)
The dream Ellen told Bluet was an actual one, for it would never have occured to her to tell anything untrue to a child, even an untrue version of a dream. (84)
a book review! and a last-minute entry into Maggie's sense of place contest.
Sense of Place: Mississippi Delta
She rode by the thick woods where the whirlpool lay, and something made her get off her horse and creep to the bank and look in-she almost never did, it was so creepy and scary....There were more eyes than hers here-frog eyes-snake eyes? She listened to the silence and then heard it stir, churn, churning in the early morning. She saw how snakes were turning and moving in the water, passing across each other just below the surface, and now and then a head horridly sticking up. The vines and the cyprus roots twisted and grew together on the shore and in the water more thickly than any roots should grow, gray and red, and some roots too moved and floated like hair. (161)
Since I don't live anywhere near Mississippi (shame), I had to find a picture online. In the one I chose, I think that the lighting, and the crowded trees are right; the creepiness isn't as strong as in the passage, since there're no snakes in the picture. So, I'm bending the rules and adding one more image...
Now, on to what I thought of the book!
Before this, I hadn't even heard of Eudora Welty; when I saw that Maggie highly recommended her, I decided to give her a try. Welty's known for her short stories, but I really wanted a novel for the challenge, and I went with Delta Wedding since it was longer than her other ones.
If I could describe the book in one word, I'd choose languid ("Slow; lacking vigor or force"). I mean that in a good way; the story feels very dreamy, and I can imagine laying on a porch, with a fan going slowly overhead, being too hot to even hold my head up for very long. The story is a portrait of the well-off Fairchilds family, who have gathered at their plantation for Dabney's wedding. It's set in the 1920s, and it feels very natural. Welty uses first-person throughout, but she switches which character we're seeing the world with. Thus, the reader gets a really good look at both family dynamics and how the different members see the world.
The richness of the story lies in both how different Welty can make the internal monologues of various characters and in her gorgeous prose. I felt like I was in Mississippi, and I strongly identified with all of the people, even though my background is nothing like theirs. This is a book that catches you by surprise; it feels like nothing is happening action-wise, but several characters go through emotional crises that feel as active as more traditional plots.
Ok, I'm not really getting my point across. I feel like this always happens with books that I really love! I think everyone who loves being immersed in a book, who enjoys character-driven novels, or who loves the South should definitely pick this book up. Reading it felt like eating ice cream on a hot day; a decadent treat that ends too quickly.
Favourite Passages
Grass softly touched her legs and her garter rosettes, growing sweet and springy for this was the country. On the narrow little walk along the front of the house, hung over with closing lemon lilies, there was a quieting and vanishing of sound. It was not yet dark. The sky was the color of violets, and the snow-white moon in the sky had not yet begun to shine. (6-7)
The girls that were old enough, dressed in colors called jade and flamingo, danced with each other around the dining-room table until the boys came to get them, and could be watched from the upper landing covorting below, like marvelous mermiads down a transparent sea. (9)
They were so filled with their energy that once when Laura saw some old map on the wall, with the blowing winds in the corners, mischievous-eyed and round-cheeked, blowing the ships and dolphins around Scotland, Laura had asked her mother if they were India's four brothers. (15)
The Fairchilds' movements were quick and on the instant, and that made you wonder, are they free? Laura was certain that they were compelled-their favorite word. Flying against the bad things happening, they kissed you in rushes of tenderness. Maybe their delight was part of their beauty, its flicker as it went by, and their kissing of not only you but everybody in the room was a kind of spectacle, an outward thing. (18)
Her brown hair and her dark-blue eyes seemed part of her quietness-like the colors of water, reflective. Her Virginia voice, while no softer or lighter than theirs, was a less questioning, a never teasing one. It was a voice to speak to the one child or the one man her eyes would go to. Tyey all watched her with soft eyes, but distractedly. She was one of those little mothers that the wind seems almost to hurt, and they they needed to look after her. (24)
It was eternally cool in summer in this house; like the air of a dense little velvet-green wood it touched your forehead with stillness. Even the phone had a ring like a tiny silver bell. (51)
It was so hard to read at Shellmound. There was so much going on in real life. Laura had tried to read under the bed that morning, but Dabney had found her and pulled her out by the foot. Now with Volune I of Saint Ronan's Well inside her pinafore, next to her skin, she went tiptoeing in the direction of the library, where no one ever went at this hour. (69)
The dream Ellen told Bluet was an actual one, for it would never have occured to her to tell anything untrue to a child, even an untrue version of a dream. (84)
Sunday, July 1, 2007
The Secret Life of Bees (thoughts)
Usually, I try not to double-post on the same day. However, I wrote the review and I just can't stop myself from sharing it. :) If you're interested in my reading breakdown for the past 3 months, or in seeing my latest bookmooches, then definitely look at my entry below as well!
I didn't expect to love Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees. I'm always wary of best-sellers, so even though I put it on my Southern Reading Challenge list, I wasn't sure I'd get to it. In Barnes and Noble, however, the only copies of The Color Purple they had carried the Oprah book seal (bothing against Oprah-I just don't like things marring my book covers), so I went with Secret Life. Then, it sat in my pile of B&N purchases for a couple weeks, until I decided to pick it up and leaf through it. That casual perusal turned into a day-long marathon reading session; I simply couldn't put the book down. When I finished it, I had that satisfied reader's glow.
But why did I love Secret Life so much? Was it the plot? For those who aren't acquainted with the book, Lily Owens is a precocious just-turned-fourteen-year-old living in South Carolina in 1964. Her mother died (mysteriously) when she was young, leaving her with an abusive (albeit, the lighter end of the abuse spectrum...still bad, but not I-don't-want-to-read-this-it's-so-awful bad) father and a black nanny/surrogate mother, Rosaleen. When Rosaleen gets into trouble with the white racists (the novel is set against the signing of the Civil Rights Act), Lily seizes the excuse to run away from home, taking Rosaleen with her. They set out for a town whose name Lily found on the back of a picture that used to belong to her mother. Arriving, they find protection with a bee-keeping trio of black sisters whose self-sufficiency leaves Lily in awe. That summer, under the influence of these strong women, Lily begins to grow up; she faces everything from falling in love to learning the truth about her mother. I certainly enjoyed the plot; Sue Monk Kidd is good at revealing just glimpses of people's secrets, until it's suddenly time that they come out in the open. The plot moves along by teasing the reader with this information; in addition to the micro-level plot, she also develops a larger plot of racial tensions in the Deep South during the 1960s, which is well-woven and leaves it to the reader to judge. While the plotting was impressive, it was not my favorite part of the book.
Was it the themes, then? Sue Monk Kidd covers everything from racism to feminist theology to the 'greyness' that is other people. Perhaps I should explain what I mean by this last point. Monk Kidd resists the urge to characticture either the good or bad characters. Even Lily's father, whom we start out detesting for not loving and being mean to Lily becomes a flesh-and-blodd character with strengths and weaknesses by the end. The other characters' actions towards Lily, whether good or bad, are slowly explained (as Lily begins to look beyond her own preconceptions), and the reader learns with Lily about the complexity of any human being. This is an important theme, and well-executed. The feminist theology in the book-the bee keeping sisters have their own religion that revolves around a Black Madonna-is also a welcome presence. It's nice to see strong women finding the divine in its female form, instead of empowering only male religious figures. I grew up Catholic, and I always felt more pulled to Mary than God or Jesus, so that part of the book resonated with me. The racism is more in the background, but it does intrude to affect the lives of many of Lily's new friends. As a white girl, Lily hasn't realised how terrifying racism can be, until she sees it firsthand. Interestingly enough, she's usually angry at her black friends for standing up to the racists, which results in them going to jail/getting beat up/etc. instead of just backing down and staying safe. Meanwhile, all of her black friends challenge her own inherent racist views; at one point, she admits to herself that until she met the sisters, she didn't realise black people could be as smart as white people. Rosaleen, while she is Lily's main care giver, resists any Mammy-like stereotypes, berating Lily for thinking she needed to "save" her. The equal attention given to overt and latent racism makes the book quite powerful. For all that, though, you never love a book for its themes!
So, it must have been the characters. Certainly, they're all unique and vivid and most of them are women taking control over their lives. This book is about women: real, loveable women. They don't always do the right thing; in fact, sometimes they don't know what the right thing is. But, they all know that it's important to lead a well-examined life. This definitely appeals to me. Lily is painfully honest with herself, which allows the reader to really enter her life at this period of transformation. Meanwhile, the black women who take her in all end up becoming her mothers, though some are better than others! I'm afraid to talk too much about the characters, because I want you to go meet them for yourself. Suffice it to say, I really wish I could go visit all of them: that's how real they felt.
In the end, I think I loved Secret Life for all of the above reasons. After all, if great characters are stuck in a mediocre plot, or showing hackneyed themes, a book loses its power. Secret Life stunned me for the interplay between all these facets of a good novel; everything felt like it was balanced just so. And the book has a shimmer of magical realism about it, which always makes me happy. Some of the characters feel other-wordly, some of the plot coincidences destined. It's more subtle than Allende or Rushdie's willingness to play with the laws of reality, but nevertheless Sue Monk Kidd certainly adjusts the world of Secret Life. Just a little, but it's enough. Added to that is the book's essential Southerness; most of the story takes place during a South Carolina summer. You can feel the heat, hear the drawls, taste the okra. Sue Monk Kidd knows the South (she's from small-town Georgie, went to school at TCU, and now lives in South Carolina), and she brings you into it. Every woman should go read this book. I know that I'll treasure it.
Favourite Passages
I went off into a daydream about Zach pulling the truck over because he couldn't see to drive for the snow and us having a snowball fight, blasting each other with soft white snow cotton. I imagined us building a snow cave, sleeping with our bodies twined together to get warm, our arms and legs like black-and-white braids. (124)
August had explained to me how when they were children and their special month came around, their mother excused them from house chores and let them eat all their favorite foods even if it wrecked their teeth and stay up a full hour later at night doing whatever their heart desired. August said that her heart had desired to read books, so the whole month she got to prop on the sofa in the quiet of the living room reading after her sisters went to bed. To listen to August talk, it had been the highlight of her youth. (136)
All four of us turned into water nymphs and danced around the cool spray, just the way it must have been when Indians danced circles around blazing fires. Squirrels and Carolina wrens hopped as close as they dared and drank from the puddles, and you could almost see the blades of brown grass lift themselves up and turn green. (168)
That night, in my bed, when I closed my eyes, bee hum ran through my body. Ran through the whole earth. It was the oldest sound there was. Souls flying away. (213)
It is the peculiar nature of the world to go on spinning no matter what sort of heartbreak is happening (279)
Each day I visit black Mary, who looks at me with her face, older than old and ugly in a beautiful way. It seems the crevices run deeper in her body each time I see her, that her wooden skin ages before my eyes. I never get tired of looking at her thick arm jutting out, her fist like a bulb about to explode. She is a muscle of love, this Mary. (302)
And there they were. All these mothers. I have more mothers than any eight girls off the street. They are the moons shining over me. (302)
I didn't expect to love Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees. I'm always wary of best-sellers, so even though I put it on my Southern Reading Challenge list, I wasn't sure I'd get to it. In Barnes and Noble, however, the only copies of The Color Purple they had carried the Oprah book seal (bothing against Oprah-I just don't like things marring my book covers), so I went with Secret Life. Then, it sat in my pile of B&N purchases for a couple weeks, until I decided to pick it up and leaf through it. That casual perusal turned into a day-long marathon reading session; I simply couldn't put the book down. When I finished it, I had that satisfied reader's glow.
But why did I love Secret Life so much? Was it the plot? For those who aren't acquainted with the book, Lily Owens is a precocious just-turned-fourteen-year-old living in South Carolina in 1964. Her mother died (mysteriously) when she was young, leaving her with an abusive (albeit, the lighter end of the abuse spectrum...still bad, but not I-don't-want-to-read-this-it's-so-awful bad) father and a black nanny/surrogate mother, Rosaleen. When Rosaleen gets into trouble with the white racists (the novel is set against the signing of the Civil Rights Act), Lily seizes the excuse to run away from home, taking Rosaleen with her. They set out for a town whose name Lily found on the back of a picture that used to belong to her mother. Arriving, they find protection with a bee-keeping trio of black sisters whose self-sufficiency leaves Lily in awe. That summer, under the influence of these strong women, Lily begins to grow up; she faces everything from falling in love to learning the truth about her mother. I certainly enjoyed the plot; Sue Monk Kidd is good at revealing just glimpses of people's secrets, until it's suddenly time that they come out in the open. The plot moves along by teasing the reader with this information; in addition to the micro-level plot, she also develops a larger plot of racial tensions in the Deep South during the 1960s, which is well-woven and leaves it to the reader to judge. While the plotting was impressive, it was not my favorite part of the book.
Was it the themes, then? Sue Monk Kidd covers everything from racism to feminist theology to the 'greyness' that is other people. Perhaps I should explain what I mean by this last point. Monk Kidd resists the urge to characticture either the good or bad characters. Even Lily's father, whom we start out detesting for not loving and being mean to Lily becomes a flesh-and-blodd character with strengths and weaknesses by the end. The other characters' actions towards Lily, whether good or bad, are slowly explained (as Lily begins to look beyond her own preconceptions), and the reader learns with Lily about the complexity of any human being. This is an important theme, and well-executed. The feminist theology in the book-the bee keeping sisters have their own religion that revolves around a Black Madonna-is also a welcome presence. It's nice to see strong women finding the divine in its female form, instead of empowering only male religious figures. I grew up Catholic, and I always felt more pulled to Mary than God or Jesus, so that part of the book resonated with me. The racism is more in the background, but it does intrude to affect the lives of many of Lily's new friends. As a white girl, Lily hasn't realised how terrifying racism can be, until she sees it firsthand. Interestingly enough, she's usually angry at her black friends for standing up to the racists, which results in them going to jail/getting beat up/etc. instead of just backing down and staying safe. Meanwhile, all of her black friends challenge her own inherent racist views; at one point, she admits to herself that until she met the sisters, she didn't realise black people could be as smart as white people. Rosaleen, while she is Lily's main care giver, resists any Mammy-like stereotypes, berating Lily for thinking she needed to "save" her. The equal attention given to overt and latent racism makes the book quite powerful. For all that, though, you never love a book for its themes!
So, it must have been the characters. Certainly, they're all unique and vivid and most of them are women taking control over their lives. This book is about women: real, loveable women. They don't always do the right thing; in fact, sometimes they don't know what the right thing is. But, they all know that it's important to lead a well-examined life. This definitely appeals to me. Lily is painfully honest with herself, which allows the reader to really enter her life at this period of transformation. Meanwhile, the black women who take her in all end up becoming her mothers, though some are better than others! I'm afraid to talk too much about the characters, because I want you to go meet them for yourself. Suffice it to say, I really wish I could go visit all of them: that's how real they felt.
In the end, I think I loved Secret Life for all of the above reasons. After all, if great characters are stuck in a mediocre plot, or showing hackneyed themes, a book loses its power. Secret Life stunned me for the interplay between all these facets of a good novel; everything felt like it was balanced just so. And the book has a shimmer of magical realism about it, which always makes me happy. Some of the characters feel other-wordly, some of the plot coincidences destined. It's more subtle than Allende or Rushdie's willingness to play with the laws of reality, but nevertheless Sue Monk Kidd certainly adjusts the world of Secret Life. Just a little, but it's enough. Added to that is the book's essential Southerness; most of the story takes place during a South Carolina summer. You can feel the heat, hear the drawls, taste the okra. Sue Monk Kidd knows the South (she's from small-town Georgie, went to school at TCU, and now lives in South Carolina), and she brings you into it. Every woman should go read this book. I know that I'll treasure it.
Favourite Passages
I went off into a daydream about Zach pulling the truck over because he couldn't see to drive for the snow and us having a snowball fight, blasting each other with soft white snow cotton. I imagined us building a snow cave, sleeping with our bodies twined together to get warm, our arms and legs like black-and-white braids. (124)
August had explained to me how when they were children and their special month came around, their mother excused them from house chores and let them eat all their favorite foods even if it wrecked their teeth and stay up a full hour later at night doing whatever their heart desired. August said that her heart had desired to read books, so the whole month she got to prop on the sofa in the quiet of the living room reading after her sisters went to bed. To listen to August talk, it had been the highlight of her youth. (136)
All four of us turned into water nymphs and danced around the cool spray, just the way it must have been when Indians danced circles around blazing fires. Squirrels and Carolina wrens hopped as close as they dared and drank from the puddles, and you could almost see the blades of brown grass lift themselves up and turn green. (168)
That night, in my bed, when I closed my eyes, bee hum ran through my body. Ran through the whole earth. It was the oldest sound there was. Souls flying away. (213)
It is the peculiar nature of the world to go on spinning no matter what sort of heartbreak is happening (279)
Each day I visit black Mary, who looks at me with her face, older than old and ugly in a beautiful way. It seems the crevices run deeper in her body each time I see her, that her wooden skin ages before my eyes. I never get tired of looking at her thick arm jutting out, her fist like a bulb about to explode. She is a muscle of love, this Mary. (302)
And there they were. All these mothers. I have more mothers than any eight girls off the street. They are the moons shining over me. (302)
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Cane River (thoughts)
I chose Cane River, by Lalita Tademy, as the first book for my Southern Reading Challenge. I wanted to start off with an exploration of slavery; when I was younger, I was rather enchanted with Gone With the Wind. Now, after four years at a very liberal college, I have a guilt complex about that (of course, not so strong that I've given up my huge poster and four-dvd special edition). So, I thought that by taking an unflinching look at slavery, and the prejudice in the South, it would help me remember not to romanticise the region.
As you may or may not know, Tademy was a business executive who quit her job in order to research her ancestors. It turns out she's descended from slaves who lived in the Creole region of Louisiana, around Cane River. The novel is based in historical fact, and follows the lives of three generations (although an older fourth is always present) of women: the youngest generation is Tademy's great-grandmother, Emily. The book is divided into three parts, and three points of view: Suzette, Philomene (her daughter), and Emily (her daughter). Tademy took everything she could find out about these women (as well as Suzette's mother Elisabeth) and then imagined the rest. At times, she almost flirts with magical realism: Philomene has visions that come to fruition. It does feel somewhat Latin American in its epic scope and focus on one family through the generation.
However, Tademy does not have the literary skill to pull off magical realism. In fact, her writing is quite straight-forward; even when she's describing the landscape, or weather, she never waxes lyrical. This was the disappointing aspect of the book: Tademy didn't create Cane River in my mind's eye. Part of the reason I chose this book was its setting: I've always been fascinated by Lousiana. I didn't really get the descriptions I expected.
Nevertheless, this was the biggest drawback in a very good book. My favourite part is how well Tademy incorporates the Creole culture into the book. She shows Suzette practicing her French and taking First Communion; in fact, at a party scene, some English-speaking guests are osctracised since no one else can talk with them. Before I read this book, I had never pictured slaves speaking French; it was quite a revelation.
The other part that opened up my eyes was how "white" these African American women were. Throughout the book, Tademy includes real pictures (which is a huge plus), and by Emily and her children, you would never think they were African American. This progressive belaching of the family line is actually a major aspect of the book; its usually accomplished with either out-right rape, or at least coercion on the part of the French white men. These were difficult passages to read, but they were presented quite straight forwardly.
In fact, I think Tademy's greatest strength lies in her ability to present the difficulty and oppression of being a slave, or recently-freed African American, without becoming political or reactionary. Her straight-forward writing style is a good thing for passages like this. And she can write: it's just that she can't write like Rushdie or Marquez. After all, who can?
I think anyone who enjoys family narratives, and who is interested the French Creole community, or African Americans would really enjoy this book. It shows enough research to be grounded, and Tademy's invented narrative rings true. A very good book, which was obviously written with a lot of love and respect.
As you may or may not know, Tademy was a business executive who quit her job in order to research her ancestors. It turns out she's descended from slaves who lived in the Creole region of Louisiana, around Cane River. The novel is based in historical fact, and follows the lives of three generations (although an older fourth is always present) of women: the youngest generation is Tademy's great-grandmother, Emily. The book is divided into three parts, and three points of view: Suzette, Philomene (her daughter), and Emily (her daughter). Tademy took everything she could find out about these women (as well as Suzette's mother Elisabeth) and then imagined the rest. At times, she almost flirts with magical realism: Philomene has visions that come to fruition. It does feel somewhat Latin American in its epic scope and focus on one family through the generation.
However, Tademy does not have the literary skill to pull off magical realism. In fact, her writing is quite straight-forward; even when she's describing the landscape, or weather, she never waxes lyrical. This was the disappointing aspect of the book: Tademy didn't create Cane River in my mind's eye. Part of the reason I chose this book was its setting: I've always been fascinated by Lousiana. I didn't really get the descriptions I expected.
Nevertheless, this was the biggest drawback in a very good book. My favourite part is how well Tademy incorporates the Creole culture into the book. She shows Suzette practicing her French and taking First Communion; in fact, at a party scene, some English-speaking guests are osctracised since no one else can talk with them. Before I read this book, I had never pictured slaves speaking French; it was quite a revelation.
The other part that opened up my eyes was how "white" these African American women were. Throughout the book, Tademy includes real pictures (which is a huge plus), and by Emily and her children, you would never think they were African American. This progressive belaching of the family line is actually a major aspect of the book; its usually accomplished with either out-right rape, or at least coercion on the part of the French white men. These were difficult passages to read, but they were presented quite straight forwardly.
In fact, I think Tademy's greatest strength lies in her ability to present the difficulty and oppression of being a slave, or recently-freed African American, without becoming political or reactionary. Her straight-forward writing style is a good thing for passages like this. And she can write: it's just that she can't write like Rushdie or Marquez. After all, who can?
I think anyone who enjoys family narratives, and who is interested the French Creole community, or African Americans would really enjoy this book. It shows enough research to be grounded, and Tademy's invented narrative rings true. A very good book, which was obviously written with a lot of love and respect.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Southern Reading Challenge
Don't forget to check out the post beneath this, where I talk about picking books in general! But I thought that since I'm raising through the Once Upon a Time Challenge, I thought I'd jump onto the Southern Reading Challenge bandwagon....I've selected five books to give myself a little bit of wiggle room.
The Color Purple by Alice Walker: because one of my general goals is to read more African American lit, and this is a classic.
Delta Wedding by Eudora Welty: Maggie gives high votes to Eudora, and since this is her challenge, I'll trust her! I picked Delta Wedding, because Welty's other books seem too short (less than 200 pages). I love epic books that are about big, sprawling families. Plus, my library has it on CD!
Cane River by Lalita Tademy: kind of a combination of Walker and Welty. I get to read more African American literature and get another epic family tale. I also am fascinated by Louisiana.
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd: I've been staring at this book for months. So, this seems like as good a time as ever to add it to the list.
A Steetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams: this is the only unread book I have on my shelf that matches the challenge guidelines. My copy has a very attractive shirtless Marlon Brando on the cover, which should provide an extra boost of inspiration!
The Color Purple by Alice Walker: because one of my general goals is to read more African American lit, and this is a classic.
Delta Wedding by Eudora Welty: Maggie gives high votes to Eudora, and since this is her challenge, I'll trust her! I picked Delta Wedding, because Welty's other books seem too short (less than 200 pages). I love epic books that are about big, sprawling families. Plus, my library has it on CD!
Cane River by Lalita Tademy: kind of a combination of Walker and Welty. I get to read more African American literature and get another epic family tale. I also am fascinated by Louisiana.
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd: I've been staring at this book for months. So, this seems like as good a time as ever to add it to the list.
A Steetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams: this is the only unread book I have on my shelf that matches the challenge guidelines. My copy has a very attractive shirtless Marlon Brando on the cover, which should provide an extra boost of inspiration!
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