Literary Fiction by People of Color discussion
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Praise Song for the Butterflies
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Discussion: Praise Song for the Butterflies (scheduled read)
too have picked the comparisons between the two religions and how women and girls were seen as sacrifice or martyrs. How women are used to right the wrongs of men at the price of their freedom (ie, Abeo being sacrificed to a shrine to attest the crime/curse of an ancestor and Abeo's motheraunt, being obligated to stay in a marriage despite of her husband kidnapping Abeo to turn her into the shrine.)But it is not only religion used to control and find women and children as disposable; the institute of education, where Abeo's biological mother being seduced by a teacher who abused his power and impregnated her. The only way her biological mother can retrieve back her power was to give Abeo up to her married sister. That was the first time Abeo was sacrificed for someone else's "sin". The irony when we find out that later in life, regardless of giving up a child to exert her freedom, she is living a potentially limited version of her life.
I compare that to Abeo and her child. I got a sense that her son brought her joy and happiness, as motherhood allows her to freely love someone outside of herself, how that love gives her life meaning. But when she lost her child due to the drowning accident, she lost a huge part of herself. Who would have thought that her coming undone was her ticket out of the shrine, as the shrine didn't believe she can contribute to the community.
I have felt so many feelings during and after reading this book. I finished this book in two days because I couldn't put it down. I've rooted her on, ever step of the way and I kept reading because I wanted to see her life get better. The subject to Trokosi is new to me but not the concept as many countries have practiced marrying child brides. It never gets easy to read about these accounts.
You know what was especially angering to me was the paternal Grandmother. Out of that family, she had the power but because it was tied to old tradition, the main character's life was tragically affected.
And thank you all who have linked supplemental reading to add on to the topic of this book!
I think the Grandmother is one of the most interesting characters of all. It's especially interesting to me that a woman is the instigator of Abeo becoming trokosi. Yes, Wasik drives the car, but he is primarily motivated by his obligation and reverence for and obedience to his mother. So I've been saying this novel is about misogyny but it's more complicated than that--Wasik is subordinate to his mother and respectful of her teachings.
Grandmother's strength as a good mother is understated but it's there. One son is a successful gynecologist in London; the other drives a Mercedes and lives in a big house...so she has educated two sons, at least, through college, which is amazing given this back story:To Grandmother, Port Masi smelled of smoke, steel, and shit. She thought her son's house was too grand and reminded Wasik that he was not a king or a chief, so the number of rooms was unnecessary, especially for a family with just two children. She had raised eight children in her modest hut.
I like the way that even Grandmother, the person most responsible for Abeo's fate, is such a round character, with many strengths and with understandable motivations.
Lark wrote: "Grandmother, what an interesting character. Her strength as a good mother is understated but it's there. One son is a successful gynecologist in London; the other drives a Mercedes and lives in a b..."I thought Grandmother was a very understandable character. She is who she is based on her upbringing and her customs.
Abeo is not her son's biological child and it is his citified wife and her choice of the colonizer's religion which she sees as not being able to rid the "curse" that affects her son.
While proud of her sons - Grandmother is set in her ways and if the rural life and beliefs have served her well why not continue with them. Grandmother raised eight kids (which it shows her worth to her family) and if her beliefs kept her children "safe" there has to be something else that is cursing him.
And in the Grandmother's mind it is also probably more important that curse gets broken as her son now has his own son and I am sure she does not the curse to affect her grandson.
And yes, we cannot discount that Abeo is a girl-child.
Beverly wrote: "Lark wrote: "Grandmother, what an interesting character. Her strength as a good mother is understated but it's there. One son is a successful gynecologist in London; the other drives a Mercedes and..."I agree with both of you about Grandmother. Her son, even though he denied sending Abeo to the troski, should have done more or at least let his wife know what was going on.
I’m overall saddened by the women’s reaction - who were family - and their lack of responsibility and action in helping Abeo.
As much as I want to be angry with Wasik, the women in this novel disappointed me the most.
Carissa wrote: "As much as I want to be angry with Wasik, the women in this novel disappointed me the most."I so agree with you, Carissa. My reaction as well.
Carmel wrote: "Carissa wrote: "As much as I want to be angry with Wasik, the women in this novel disappointed me the most."I so agree with you, Carissa. My reaction as well."
My feeling is that I'm not inclined to give Wasik a disappointment pass - the only reason I can think to do so would be that I'd expect better of the women since they are also victims of the patriarchal society and should stand stronger for a female victim. Which seems awfully close to an old patriarchal (or any ruling class) tool - blaming the victims. Is Wasik less of a disappointment because he's a man and so we expect less of him? Which is another handy patriarchy/ruling class tool - to use an ostensible excuse to humble brag bad behavior ("it's just locker room talk" - translation: "I can't help it because I'm such a virile man," ) and demean women by patronizing them (women are too good to behave like men).
Or maybe I'm missing other reasons to be disappointed in the women?
Nadine it seems to me that McFadden created a very complicated web of culpability and family obligation, where no one person in the family is entirely the bad guy. A girl gets sent into slavery and endures horrific conditions of sexual abuse and physical abuse, but who is to blame? Wasik has dual obligations toward his mother and the faith he was raised in. Grandmother honestly believes that the gods are punishing the family and there is a need for the family to atone. Ismae is physically weak and has been raised to obey her husband at all times. None of them ever have to actually see the horror that Abeo's life becomes.A careful lattice of blame/obligation inoculates this novel too from any kind of criticism about its agenda. You can't really say it's anti- male--Wasik isn't a typical patriarch, since he is subordinate to his mother. You can't say it's anti-Africa or anti-traditional culture--Westernized culture comes across as just as bad, for example Wasik is framed unjustly at work, and with we get reminders of Western slave trading, and later (view spoiler).
I really admired this very careful balancing both at the character level and the thematic level.
Lark wrote: "Nadine it seems to me that McFadden created a very complicated web of culpability and family obligation, where no one person in the family is entirely the bad guy. A girl gets sent into slavery and..."I agree with everything you've written, Lark - one of many reasons I gave this book 5 stars. I wasn't thinking about McFadden having an agenda, or even viewing the story through gender or cultural lens - I see the situation as being universal - something like it could happen anywhere in any culture. My post wasn't referring to what McFadden wrote, but instead was adding another angle to our discussion about our reactions to sacrificing Abeo - being more disappointed in the women than in Wasik. My first reaction was to be more disappointed in the women too, but then I thought about it more and that gave rise to the thoughts in my post. The people posting on this thread (and the spoiler thread) are all so thoughtful, I was hoping for their help in thinking through this angle.
Sorry that I didn't pick up on what you wanted to explore, Nadine. I hope no one will feel shut down because of my reply. I meant to say something I'm having a hard time explaining. Basically that the range of individual reactions we're having to these characters and whether they are praise-worthy or blame-worthy are all validated by the way McFadden writes this story, and in particular, by the way McFadden doles out responsibilities and shares blame among all the major decision makers in Abeo's life.So for example McFadden literally disables Ismae in the story. Now that choice gives me permission as a reader to think: "I'm disappointed in Ismae, that she didn't stand up for Abeo," and it's not really a blame-the-victim statement at all, and it doesn't really say anything about patriarchy at all either, because McFadden created a character who literally can't stand up for anyone because of her injuries.
McFadden does this trick of de-politicizing the narrative so completely and so uniformly that every character ends up deserving either our anger or our compassion, take your pick. Except for Duma.
This book is so apolitical. It's not making statements. It's kind of remarkable that way.
Thoughtful responses and questions from all. Perhaps it would have been more accurate of me to say that I was equally dismayed by the choices of Wasik and the women, but more surprised by the women, than by Wasik. I was in no way giving him a pass for his choices, I was just more emotionally reactive to the actions of the women portrayed. I think I had this reaction because, at a pretty deep level, I've been conditioned to see (in movies, books, and life) this kind of choice made by those in "power", which tend to be males. In that conditioning, a new example tends to fall into the abyss labeled "yeah, there it is again." and results in less surprise. But when I see women making those choices, it gives me more pause, because it brings up a different conditioning that pictures mothers as protectors who sacrifice to protect the young. Please don't get me wrong...I know this is a very global generalization and there are exceptions all over the place on both sides. But the overall conditioning is still there, and still affects my expectations and reactions. A deep part of me screams at Grandmother, "But how could you? That could be you!", because it could have been so easily. Men have not had to worry as frequently, as a rule, about being seen and treated in such a way because of long-established gender roles and how each is seen. Again...there are exceptions, but the the law of averages falls heavily on the side of females enduring this kind of outcome.
Mod
I thought of Stay with Me all through this book, Nadine. I thought maybe it was because SWM was my favorite book of last year (or was it the prior year) and it was just natural for me to compare everything to it. But, no it’s the characters, the setting, some of the dialogue -- the themes are different but yet some things are similar as you mentioned. I loved the fact that in both books these African families are wealthy or pretty well off. I’m seeing more of this but still not enough.
I gave this book 4 stars and planned to stand by it. But, this discussion is questioning my decision and I may need to change that. I think I’ve only done that once before, if at all, but I really may need to change that....Also, that wonderful Aspen Public Radio piece. I saw Ms. McFadden in a new light by listening to that. I’m really gonna dig into her back catalogue for sure now.
I agree with what has been said.I think this book expresses we are all a product of our upbringing/faith and our life experiences along with our individual expectations on what we want from life from the environment we live in.
I may not have read closely enough, but I have had a lot of experience with female sociopaths and Grandmother just screamed sociopath at me when I was reading. I just felt like I knew her and her destructiveness very well.
Michele wrote: "I may not have read closely enough, but I have had a lot of experience with female sociopaths and Grandmother just screamed sociopath at me when I was reading. I just felt like I knew her and her d..."Michele I bet you were influenced by the scene where Grandmother bathes Agwe...harrowing and awful.
Good point. I was influenced by the whole thing. The thing I remember the most is just the overall manipulation of everyone else for a destructive result.
Lark wrote: "Sorry that I didn't pick up on what you wanted to explore, Nadine. I hope no one will feel shut down because of my reply. I meant to say something I'm having a hard time explaining. Basically that the range of individual reactions we're having to these characters and whether they are praise-worthy or blame-worthy are all validated by the way McFadden writes this story, and in particular, by the way McFadden doles out responsibilities and shares blame among all the major decision makers in Abeo's life."No worries, I think you opened up the conversation in even more good ways. I know I'm reading a 5 star plus book when the characters become so real and complex that I forget all about the author - the characters do what they do because that's who they are - a product of all they've been through, as Beverly says.
Lark wrote: So for example McFadden literally disables Ismae in the story. Now that choice gives me permission as a reader to think: "I'm disappointed in Ismae, that she didn't stand up for Abeo," and it's not really a blame-the-victim statement at all, and it doesn't really say anything about patriarchy at all either, because McFadden created a character who literally can't stand up for anyone because of her injuries.
Ismae is such a fascinating character for me - she's filled with rage when she learns what happened to Abeo, slaps the Grandmother (a shocking act) and runs away to her cousin Thema. But after that I remember her as being knd of immobilized by shock and shame, and when she discovers she's pregnant, she allows herself to start to believe that maybe this happened because the grandmother was right. She died because of the grandmother's negligence, but I also just believe that heartbreak had a part in it too. There's something Shakepearean to me in the depth of her heartbreak and shame at her own weakness.
Where I think patriarchy comes in is that while Wasik may be equally as hearbroken about what he did to Abeo, he also has opportunities to help him to get past it or at least learn to live with it - he gets his reputation back and starts a new family.
One powerful thing I found in McFadden's story is how the girls at the shrine were continually and purposefully reminding themselves and each other that they still existed - that they were still living human beings with pasts outside the shrine. I loved the way McFadden accentuates that with a simple sentence that documents the exact age of a shrine girl. Making it the last sentence of the book was brilliant. "It is 2009 and Abeo is thirty-three years, seven months and twenty-four days old." What better way to plant the flag that she survived.This book is filled with deceptively little touches like that that do so much narrative work with so few words.
Nadine wrote: "Carmel wrote: "Carissa wrote: "As much as I want to be angry with Wasik, the women in this novel disappointed me the most."I so agree with you, Carissa. My reaction as well."
My feeling is that ..."
Great point there. Wasik gets no pass!! He knew better, he knew it was wrong, and he was her father - not biologically, but since birth. But my disappointment for the women was that it was a woman who instigated the idea of the troski and the other three knew it was wrong and threw up their hands and moved on.
Yet, men instigated their dismissal of Abeo’s fate: husbands’ orders and having a child from rape. Their pain as a collective should have given them the strength to fight for Abeo, to break the cycle.
The men are horrendously wrong as well. I think McFadden did a wonderful job on creating such in-depth characters that you feel sympathy yet anger for the perpetrators. No one in Abeo’s life is innocent, but you can understand and even rationalize why they made their decisions.
Nadine wrote: "One powerful thing I found in McFadden's story is how the girls at the shrine were continually and purposefully reminding themselves and each other that they still existed - that they were still li..."I loved that aspect as well. That illustrates that your experiences do not have to continue a horrific spiral. Abeo’s family used their experiences and attitudes of others to justify their decision to abandon her. The girls at the shrine used their experiences to nurture and provide for one another to the point of picking enough corn to prevent another from being beaten to stealing fruit just for a taste of happiness.
Carmel wrote: ".."I was just more emotionally reactive to the actions of the women portrayed. I think I had this reaction because, at a pretty deep level, I've been conditioned to see (in movies, books, and life) this kind of choice made by those in "power", which tend to be males. In that conditioning, a new example tends to fall into the abyss labeled "yeah, there it is again.....the overall conditioning is still there, and still affects my expectations and reactions."Yes, this is exactly what got me started thinking about where this conditioning comes from and how it works, (one possibility -patriarchy). And then my head starts to hurt and I go to my dogs for therapy ;)
Maybe one reason we focus on the women so much is that McFadden does too. There's comparatively little exploration of what's going on in the mens' heads. This doesn't bother me though - the focus of this book is on the womens' lives and I think keeping this focus tight is what makes the book so short and powerful. She knows exactly where to draw her lines.
I see these women as doing what they need to do to survive. Sometimes those who are hurt by the patriarchy will turn around and dole out the same hurtful actions as a way to prove that their suffering is "honorable" or "serves a real purpose" other than their own pain. It's the victim turning around and victimizing someone else. It seems like these women are stuck in a circle of hurt until one of them breaks free. But then, the ones who are left behind will sometimes try to pull the free one back in.I don't know if i'm making any sense, but this could be one of the motivations behind some of the women's actions against other women.
Catherine wrote: "I see these women as doing what they need to do to survive. Sometimes those who are hurt by the patriarchy will turn around and dole out the same hurtful actions as a way to prove that their suffer..."That's an interesting perspective, Catherine, and I can see how that plays out in this book. Maybe because Grandmother and Mother are in positions where there is something to "save" (themselves, their lifestyles, their well-being), they are more prone to hurtful actions, or at least not fighting the hurtful actions of others, whereas Abeo and the other girls at the shrine had nothing, nothing to lose, and therefore could band together to support and nurture rather than protect their own interests by hurting others. That would make a lot of sense given basic survival instincts and cultural conditioning.
"Nadine wrote: "One powerful thing I found in McFadden's story is how the girls at the shrine were continually and purposefully reminding themselves and each other that they still existed - that the..."Also, thank you for this observation - and everyone for your comments. read the book in one giant gulp last week and appreciate everyone's comments, thoughts and insights.
Janet wrote: ""Nadine wrote: "One powerful thing I found in McFadden's story is how the girls at the shrine were continually and purposefully reminding themselves and each other that they still existed - that th..."This is definitely a book that keeps on giving :)
Tomorrow is the day we officially open up discussion in this thread of the section "Wife of the Gods" (p. 91 to p. 161).It seems we all read quickly through this short book but even so I'm liking the opportunity to bring attentive focus to each section.
For this section my questions just now are about the brevity and the writing style here.
Just 70 pages to evoke a very harrowing and brutal reality--Did it work for you? Do you feel there was enough information to get a comprehensive idea of these girls' lives? Was it enough for you to feel empathy, and to individualize the girls?
Right now I'm imagining a college English teacher assigning a 'compare and contrast' essay regarding the literary treatment of kidnapping and rape scenes in Praise Song for the Butterflies vs. An Untamed State, another book many of us have read.
Mod
On the contrary (and Roxane Gay is a writer/critic I love and admire) I thought An Untamed State was all of those things mentioned above. I know I’ll be under a lot of heat for this, but I’m still a little flummoxed by the love and admiration for this book. In theory, it seemed like a book I would absolutely love but every part of that book left me scratching my head. Both the book and this groups discussion of the book could be categorized as divisive by some and hostile by some others.
But, you better not say a word about Difficult Women or Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body or we’ll have a problem!
Ok, let's talk about Hunger instead, which has a true and excruciatingly detailed scene of child rape in it, as I recall. Mostly I'm curious how people here feel about the way writers choose to write scenes of sexual violence. We all have read a variety of choices writers make when they approach this difficult material, from: 1) explicit, detailed, hold-your-head-to-it style of writing about sexual violence, to: 2) something more like what Praise Song for the Butterflies offers, which is a very veiled and curtailed method of writing such scenes, by comparison.
Lark wrote: "Ok, let's talk about Hunger instead, which has a true and excruciatingly detailed scene of child rape in it, as I recall. Mostly I'm curious how people here feel about the way writers choose to w..."
It depends on the purpose. When an author is explicit about rape, like in Hunger, that rape was a catalyst for future pain and suffering so the details may need to be excruciating.
In Praise Song, rape was one of many painful experiences that robbed Abeo of almost 20 years of her life so it didn’t need to be explained in depth.
McFadden may have wanted us to focus on the neglect and abuse from so many others that led to Abeo being in the troski - in a situation that involved rape. Whereas Gay may have wanted us to focus more on the rape because it happened in spite of a loving and seemingly attentive family.
I agree with what Carissa said above.It is the author's purpose in what they want for me to get from their book.
I do think that both books also illustrated how societies aid in the violence against females and it often so ingrained in our culture that too often these crimes against women are common.
For me McFadden shined a light on ritual slavery and Gay showed us how rape is an ultimate violation against female and the future pain.
I am for each author telling their story in their own way.
Beverly and Carissa I like that you're framing the choice as author intent, and I like the idea that the way an author chooses to write graphic scenes in each case is appropriate to the intended message.My first thought on this topic was different. I was thinking that writers who pull back a bit from scenes of graphic violence are doing so because they want to protect the reader, and to keep the reader from putting the book down in disgust. Which is what I did with An Untamed State. Gay lost me by being so explicit about violent rape.
It seems like a very important craft-type question for writers when they come to such scenes: how do I get the truth of this horrible thing across to my reader, without traumatizing my reader?
otoh if a scene about something horrible is too gently or indirectly written, or is quickly passed over, does it do justice to the actual horror of the events being portrayed? Shouldn't the reader suffer when reading scenes of suffering?
also I just want to add that to me a perfect light-touch example of how something awful doesn't always need to be spelled out in graphic detail was Juba's story. I loved the way McFadden framed Juba's story with bookend-gestures where Juba shows her pride in knowing her numbers, first p. 102 at the end of ch 14 when she proudly writes the number 1, and then p 149 when she writes the number 11 in the dirt before hanging herself. Juba gets just a few sentences in each of a couple of chapters and it's exactly enough to make her death utterly devastating. It didn't take much explicit writing at all.
Lark -I definitely understand your concerns.
Reading these accounts are very painful and I understand they are not necessarily for everyone and if you do not read every detail that is okay.
If I know I am going to read horrific scenes I tend to read them in daytime and almost always will pick up a "palate cleanser" to read before bedtime. If necessary I will put the book down after reading a horrific scene to get myself together. I usually get so made at the person(s) committing these horrific acts that I could just scream but have a glass of wine instead.
I often reminder people that one of act of "kindness" from these horrific people does not negate the multiple horrific act(s) against the victim.
This is an interesting discussion, and I can concur with all the expressed thoughts above. I give authors the choice to portray those kinds of scenes as they deem appropriate, but I also give myself the choice to stop reading if it feels too gratuitous and unnecessary, or to avoid reading a book I know contains such material. It has become such a button for me in how often it is portrayed that I'm pretty skeptical about how graphic it needs to be to make the points anyone could be trying to make. There can be a judicious telling that informs the reader or blatant exploitation of a character on a page. I can see the value of the former, and have no use for the latter. I guess this is a long explanation to say that I give the author the freedom to write as they choose, but I won't read something (or value it) if it seems voyeuristic or overdone for shock value--intention and presentation are everything.
Hi everybody--today is our official day to open discussion for: "Eden Rehabilitation Center," "New York City," and "After" (to page 244) .
I have a swirl of feelings about these sections but would love to hear from others before I dive in with my opinions.
ok I guess I'll dive in here with some of my thoughts. I'm really interested to see how other readers here felt about this ending.I can love this book unqualifiedly as a story of individual redemption, if I focus solely on Abeo and Serafine.
On a broader level I begin to feel the novel is balanced with almost painful carefulness to avoid confrontation and conflict. No one is blamed for anything. Every wrong is balanced with a right. Characters die rather than needing to take responsibility for their choices. The setup for a confrontation between Abeo and Duma in the beginning scene resolves into an "it was a dream" ending that puts all the work on Abeo to heal. Everyone else is off the hook.
Abeo's savior Taylor Adams seems "tailor"-made to avoid the need for the novel to make any overt political statement. She is half black, half white. Pages 154-155 introduce her as this completely balanced person who has 'made peace with her European DNA' and is 'old enough to know hate didn't fix problems.'
It feels like Taylor's choice to go to Howard instead of Yale is a fact put in to counter-balance the uncomfortable role she plays as a Christian/Western/savior. it would be a very different and potentially more interesting and certainly a more dangerous book if this character were white and overtly Evangelical, and maybe even male, coming to Africa to save black girls...which is the role Taylor plays, but as a more acceptably packaged character the novel side-steps these deeper questions about culture and race and history.
I just finished the novel yesterday, so I'm still working out my feelings about it all. On the other hand I only received it Saturday, so the fact that I also read it in 2 days itself says much in its favor. I would agree that the plot and characters seem crafted to avoid too much responsibility for any of the multitude of bad things that happen. I don't think Duma or his father, the original priest of the shrine get off all that easily from condemnation, Duma in particularly although it hardly seems that his father was any better in any important aspect. I can't find anything resembling a counterbalance for Duma, who in the end turned the shrine into a brothel. I'd say, for me at least, we don't get any real idea of the underlying theology is for the trokosi. Pretty much all we learn is that it's traditional, but that doesn't seem very satisfactory to me, especially as it's central to the plot. But the original priest, does he actually believe anything, or is he just another religious conman, satisfying his greed and lust? Why does grandma think this is such a great idea? Catholicism takes its lumps briefly over Ismae's inability to divorce Wasmik and then disappears. Taylor seems more like a secular humanist, trying to do good with rather limited success. It seems she only rescues the lost girls who are no longer of value to the shrines, as they eat more than they earn ,although the shrines strive to maximize their returns for giving them up anyway. And while Protestantism and/or Evangelism doesn't seem to have played much of a role in ending this practice inside Ukemby, it does seem to have rescued Abeo successfully once she got to the US.
So, I guess that I'm not all that keen on the side-stepping. I'm still trying to figure out where the history of Ukemby came from and why the book starts with it. Of course, there aren't any US colonies or official protectorates in Africa, although Liberia comes the closest. The US didn't take any former German colonies as protectorates anywhere. We stole ours fair and square from the Spanish and then took the former Japanese protectorates in the Pacific after WWII that were taken from the Germans in WWI. This would be seriously nitpicking except that we are told we only allowed the locals to speak English and anyone who didn't could have their tongues cut out and killed. Not quite sure how anyone without a tongue continues to speak anything, but there it is. And we banned the local religions as well. Pretty Nasty Stuff. But how does this affect the story or the characters? It doesn't seem to. I guess I was just bothered to start with that and then patiently waited to see what we'd do next.
Lark wrote: "No one is blamed for anything. Every wrong is balanced with a right. Characters die rather than needing to take responsibility for their choices. The setup for a confrontation between Abeo and Duma in the beginning scene resolves into an "it was a dream" ending that puts all the work on Abeo to heal. Everyone else is off the hook."I think these are the aspects that kept me from giving it five stars. I look for these pivotal moments where the story digs under the surface of events to find the soils of redemption and illumination and alteration...the places where transformation or accountability happen. I was especially disappointed that the father just disappeared without confrontation. I suppose that can happen in real life, and maybe that wasn't the focus for this author, but I ended up feeling that so much was glossed over and skipped past that it left me feeling a bit unsettled and hungry for more. There were many opportunities for more excavation that just didn't happen.
I can sympathize with the desire to see accountability, redemption, illumination, or even just good old fashioned revenge, but for me the lack of all of this worked in this book - maybe because it feels like real life, where shitty people do shitty things and get away with it, right under everybody's nose, and the best course (and often the only course) for the victim is to let it go and build a better life from then on. That was the beauty of the ending for me - Abeo let it go. And I'd like to think that she went on to work with Taylor Adams or Amnesty International or something :)
Nadine wrote: "I can sympathize with the desire to see accountability, redemption, illumination, or even just good old fashioned revenge, but for me the lack of all of this worked in this book - maybe because it ..."Lovely thoughts, Nadine. She did appear to move on and focus on making a life for herself, and kudos to her for that. I guess I wish I could visit inside her head for a day or two, to experience her thought process. ;)
I am probably in the minority - but this was just an okay read for me.Yes, it was a quick read - a lot because of the the reasons mentioned above and wanted another layer to the story as for me the big draw of the book is the issue of trokosi. And while I was glad that more people became aware of this form of ritual slavery I had learned of this practice before reading this book.
While I did not like the ending, I was happen that Abeo had found her way to move past what had happened to her and to live in the present.
George wrote: "I just finished the novel yesterday, so I'm still working out my feelings about it all. On the other hand I only received it Saturday, so the fact that I also read it in 2 days itself says much in ..."Yes, I too wondered why the history of Ukemby was included and became a little confused what I was suppose to do with this "history" when reading the book.
I liked the ending because of the loving attention McFadden gives to Serafine. Serafine does not reconcile with her daughter. There is no magical happy ending between the two of them. She's a drunk. She abandoned her baby to be raised by others. The resentment Abeo feels is too far a bridge to cross. But Serafine is redeemed when the author includes a scene with Serafine front-and-center, that drives home that Serafine too was a victim of child rape, however different the circumstances from her daughter's.There is a lingering small dissatisfaction for me, though, where I feel there could have been more and braver choices made. The novel stays in the territory of being about individual characters, vs. being a social novel/social critique. I didn't feel the author elevating my thinking, in the way for instance I felt when I read Preparation for the Next Life, a novel that really drove home for me the horror of life as an undocumented worker in the U.S. That novel was written as a social critique. It gave me a call to action. It actually changed my behavior, leading me to become more politically active in my community.
Mod
Well said, Carmel.
Mod
I didn’t have a problem with the author using a fictitious country in this book. I had no issue with sort of suspending belief here and just going on this journey the author prepared. She used creative license and said so due to the “complexities and nuances” of the African diaspora. I immediately thought of Ghana while reading it and then read further on that Ukemby bordered Ghana and it cemented what I guessed, or a reasonable facsimile.
I don't have a problem creating a fictitious country per se. It just seems like, if you're going to create one and give us its history before the story begins, it should mean something within the story line. For example, the US banned traditional religion and it pops up as a major part of the story line. Did grandma experience that, did she have memories of that? Is that why giving over Abeo to the old gods such a triumph for her?
Literary Fiction by People of Color
Books mentioned in this topic
Sugar (other topics)Loving Day (other topics)
Sugar (other topics)
Preparation for the Next Life (other topics)
An Untamed State (other topics)
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Authors mentioned in this topic
Mat Johnson (other topics)Tayari Jones (other topics)
Malcolm Hansen (other topics)
Jeffrey C. Stewart (other topics)
Bernice L. McFadden (other topics)
Well, there is Parkinson's Law which says that expenditures rise to meet income. So with being a college educated and having a "good government" job there were certain "expectations" to be accepted and remain at this status - so Wasik lives in an expected neighborhood, etc.
The family did have savings - which quickly went to lawyers for the father's defense.
And since he was innocent the family held on to the belief -well Wasik did as he kept much hidden from Ismae regarding their finances.
But since Wasik was not really part of the "inner" circle he got really caught in a trap as the corruption was done by a member of the PM's family so he was the fall guy.
There is a sharp division between urban and rural life in this story.
Since Ismae was use to urban life she probably helped her husband adjust to city life as it seems that he was rooted in the rural life that he grew up in.
Belief/faith can be a strong pull for people who use it for being a guidepost for living their lives.
Wasik wanted to respect his mother and despite his education had to have a belief in the curse his mother kept pushing as the cause for his "bad luck" and in despair fell back into his childhood beliefs.