Been looking forward to reading this book for ages, and I've been enjoying it so far, but it's been getting harder for me to pick it up again. I thinkBeen looking forward to reading this book for ages, and I've been enjoying it so far, but it's been getting harder for me to pick it up again. I think I need to accept that I'm not in the right headspace to enjoy this book right now and must revisit it at a later date. ...more
"He would examine with minute care, and sometimes with a monstrous and terrible delight, the hideous lines that seared the wrinkling forehead or crawl"He would examine with minute care, and sometimes with a monstrous and terrible delight, the hideous lines that seared the wrinkling forehead or crawled around the heavy sensual mouth, wondering sometimes which were the more horrible, the signs of sin or the signs of age."...more
"She just flew. Collected every bit of life she had made, all the parts of her that were precious and fine and beautiful, and carried, pushed, dragged"She just flew. Collected every bit of life she had made, all the parts of her that were precious and fine and beautiful, and carried, pushed, dragged them through the veil, out, away, over there where no one could hurt them."
"Her voice had a thin thread of sadness running through it that made the song important, that made it tell a story that wasn't in the words—a story of"Her voice had a thin thread of sadness running through it that made the song important, that made it tell a story that wasn't in the words—a story of despair, of loneliness, of frustration. It was a story that all of them knew by heart and had always known because they had learned it soon after they were born and would go on adding to it until the day they died."...more
"More acutely than ever before Emma Lou began to feel that her luscious black complexion was somewhat of a liability, and that her marked color variat"More acutely than ever before Emma Lou began to feel that her luscious black complexion was somewhat of a liability, and that her marked color variation from the other people in her environment was a decided curse."
The Blacker the Berry is a work of satire that primarily follows Emma Lou, a young Black woman with a much darker complexion than everyone in her family (save for her father whom no one in the family speaks well of). It's a revelatory narrative of learned intra-racism and prejudice as well a tragic story of internalized racial shame.
What makes this book even more interesting is that when it was first published in 1929, author Wallace Thurman had done something taboo in saying out loud what was privately acknowledged but never publicly discussed: that colorism (i.e., discrimination based on skin tone) existed in the Black community. In the introduction to the book, Therman B. O'Daniel says of this:
"Even years ago when the story was written, there was certainly nothing unusual about novels about the prejudice of white people against black people. [...] But the fact that this book gives us a vividly described double dose of the color bias, with particular emphasis upon the prejudice of certain Negroes against black persons within their own racial group, was unique, and it was this element specifically, that made the novel different."
With its revelations about colorism, its glimpses of life during the Harlem Renaissance, and its redemptive conclusion, The Blacker the Berry is an informative and heartbreaking yet hopeful read, one that would be fascinating to explore in a university setting.
--
I'm grateful to BookTuber Denise La Rosa of La Rosa Reads for bringing this book to my attention in her video 12 Classics by 12 Black Authors....more
"On the verge of a decision we all tremble: hope pauses with fluttering wings."
I know this book was shocking for its time, but I can't help wishing Ge"On the verge of a decision we all tremble: hope pauses with fluttering wings."
I know this book was shocking for its time, but I can't help wishing George Elliot had really gone for it with this story. I wanted the shocking elements to stick and have lasting consequences. I wanted the arresting drama to happen where I could see it rather than offstage. Given the nature of the story, that's asking a lot from a book published in 1859, but even so . . ....more
"No one ever spoke of my father or mother, but I soon learned what a curse was attached to my race, soon learned that the African blood in my veins wo"No one ever spoke of my father or mother, but I soon learned what a curse was attached to my race, soon learned that the African blood in my veins would forever exclude me from the higher walks of life."
When The Bondwoman's Narrative was published in 2002, it became a New York Times bestseller, but the book's author was a mystery. Who was she? Was her name really Hannah Crafts? And was she truly a Black woman as she claimed to be? These questions and more arose when Henry Louis Gates Jr. found the long-lost manuscript of The Bondwoman's Narrative, which appeared to be one of the most significant historical finds in literature.
To prove the manuscript's worth, he would embark on a long search for the author.
I highly recommend reading this book! The author deftly blends a sentimental novel with elements of Gothic literature for an absolutely mesmerizing read. A story of haunted trees, cursed families, resilient women and more await you in The Bondwoman's Narrative....more
The redundant dialogue killed this one for me. I've never encountered anything quite like it. For example:
"Who's that?" said Lady Groan heavily. "It'
The redundant dialogue killed this one for me. I've never encountered anything quite like it. For example:
"Who's that?" said Lady Groan heavily. "It's me, my lady," cried a quavering voice. "Who's that hitting my door?" "It's me with his lordship," replied the voice. "What?" shouted Lady Groan. "What d'you want? What are you hitting my door for?" Whoever it was raised her voice nervously and cried, "Nannie Slagg, it is. It's me, my lady; Nannie Slagg." "What d'you want?" repeated her ladyship, settling herself more comfortably. "I've brought his Lordship for you to see," shouted Nannie Slagg, a little less nervously. "Oh, you have, have you? You've brought his lordship. So you want to come in, do you? With his lordship." There was a moments silence. "What for? What have you brought him to me for?" "For you to see, if you please, my lady," replied Nannie Slagg.
Another example:
"It's the ninth day of the month," said Sourdust. "Ah," said his lordship. There was a period of silence, Sourdust making use of the interim by re-knotting several tassels of his beard. "The ninth," repeated his lordship. "The ninth," muttered Sourdust. "A heavy day," mused his lordship, "very heavy." Sourdust, bending his deep-set eyes upon his master, echoed him: "A heavy day, the ninth . . . always a heavy day."
Loading...
