Video Discription |
Hi there! Welcome, or hopefully welcome back to Pink’s Picks: Book Recs from a (sort of) retired English teacher. For today’s episode (66), I’ll be discussing two similarly-titled debut books by African American authors: James McBride’s memoir published in 1996, “The Color of Water” and Nathan Harris’ historical fiction, “The Sweetness of Water,” published in June of 2021 and still, only available in hardback.
Interestingly (at least to me!), I very briefly met James McBride years ago at a College Board Forum where I was presenting. I was intrigued not only that he was a headliner as an award-winning musician, but also as an author. “The Color of Water” was for sale at the event, so I bought, voraciously read, then subsequently added it to my curriculum. The title is derived from McBride’s mom’s answer to her children’s questions about race, skin tone, and what color God is. The subtitle is: “A Black Man’s Tribute to His White Mother,” and, I promise, if you read the book, you’ll posthumously revere her as well.
Ruth McBride Jordan, the daughter of an unfathomably abusive rabbi, immigrated as a child in 1923 to Virginia. Years later, to escape her father’s wrath, she moved in with relatives in NYC, then met and married Andrew McBride, an African-American minister. He died when Ruth was pregnant with her eighth child, James. Eventually, she married another Black man and had four more kids. She was left in poverty when she was widowed again; nevertheless, she raised -primarily on her own- twelve successful children: doctors, lawyers, nurses, teachers, and, of course, a writer and musician. In a New York Times Book Review, H. Jack Geiger wrote that, “The triumph of the book and of their lives is that race and religion are transcended . . . by family love, the sheer force of a mother’s will and her unshakable insistence that only two things really mattered: school and church” (1996).
Most students were riveted by this book; they loved McBride’s style of juxtaposing his story with his mother’s rotating narration every other chapter. When they were reading James’ story, they could hardly wait to return to Ruth’s and vice versa.
“Sweetness,” meanwhile, juxtaposes, “a world of cruelty” (130) in Old Ox, Georgia immediately after Emancipation, “that also carried in it [] great joy” (130). From a third person perspective, Harris rotates the stories of the taciturn George and his wife, Isabelle, who were brought together by, “a mutual passion for independence” (41); their closeted son, Caleb, a Civil War deserter; and, Prentiss and Landry, former slave siblings who find refuge on George’s isolated property, and who like George were, “. . . the only individuals who would rather leave a moment naked than tar it with wasted words” (7).
Harris’ writing is gorgeous. His characterization is rich, his similes and metaphors are clever, and his imagery is vivid. For example, George had, “always been of the opinion that what he lacked in personality , or charm, was embodied in his [cooking] . . . his favorite act of goodwill”(61), “pancakes sizzled – bubbles opening and closing again like a fish struggling for air above the water’s surface” (14); “. . . the brushstrokes of their marriage coalesced day after day, night after night, the resulting portrait rewarding but infuriatingly difficult to interpret” (14), and, “the space, although shared had been cordoned off, with invisible lines demarcating who belonged where”(114).
My favorite Harris stylistic devices include his use of my favorite word, “vicissitudes” (273), his language to portray universal experiences: “In his heart . . . he knew the house hadn’t shrunk. He’d simply learned how immense the world was” (247); “. . . those prone to evil were left untouched by guilt to a degree so vast that they might sleep through a storm” (249); and, “The present thunders on while the past is a wound untended, unstitched, felt but never healed” (316); and, I love his overarching theme of the “beauty” and “horror” (178) that accompanies the ebbs and flows of existence.
What is life without “Color” and “Sweetness?” I give both of these books, “A’s.”
Next time, I'll discuss two books about very unusual librarians.
Until then, stay safe, make good choices, and do your homework! |