Category: reviews

  • A Need to Read?

    Gloria Edim’s (2024) new memoir is a project in search of a problem.

    The book is a series of thematic chapters loosely organized in chronological order. These offer clusters of experiences, and the ways that reading helped her think through and about these.

    Edim’s claim to fame is the the Well-Read Black Girl organization, which began with a birthday t-shirt from her ex- that enabled her to escape her social isolation and connect with others. She used these casual conversations to launch a book club with friends, which she has developed into an organization that uses storytelling to advocate for social change.

    An account of its origins, and a justification for such a life, might make for relevant reading. The latter could be especially engaging in this era of digital culture, and its attendant challenges to previous justifications for reading, and the humanities.

    The problem is that it never quite gets there. Instead, it focuses more on who Edim has become and how she got there, which is obviously important to her but not necessarily at least as the way these are treated in this book to others.

    A second problem, which emerged after I finished it, is missing information. The timeline is somewhat unclear although I had attributed that to artistic choice. However, it omits details that if included could create challenges at least to the story as presented and promoted in it.

    A good example is her missing father, and he and their subsequent reconnection in Nigeria play prominent parts. However, the book is somewhat unclear that he had previously left for Nigeria, and that her mother and she had reportedly accompanied him when she was younger and frequently visited him, which suggests a somewhat different perspective on for example the house he built there, and left after his death for her brother and her.

    This issue, which is more a challenge for the genre, has little impact on the central limitation. That for me is how books justify their existence, and made this one less satisfying than I expected and hoped.

  • As Much As We Can Be

    All Happy Families is an engaging account of a Chicago family that seems relatively unhappy but might actually be as much as can be expected, and relatively aware of that.

    Graham, a mostly failed writer and actor, is managing his childhood duplex purchased by his older, and more successful actor, brother Will, and Dana, a former college friend, agrees to rent it. His parents Sue and Roy are coming for the weekend to help prepare the apartment for a new tenant, and then Will unexpectedly arrives ostensibly to escape LA but actually to avoid inappropriate behavior accusations.

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  • Saving Others and Ourselves

    I recently reread Colson Whitehead’s (2019) The Nickel Boys, which seemed more compelling the second time.

    This story, which will appear on big screens as a new movie this fall, is based upon an actual Florida reformatory school, which Whitehead reportedly encountered on social media after a local university uncovered unmarked graves on its grounds. From here, he researched and then built a story about 1960s Jim Crow abuse as experienced by two protagonists Elwood Curtis and Jack Turner, which later won the 2020 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.

    One reviewer (Rich 2019) claims that this book attests to the American failure to confront its history and to reenact its worst parts. I agree but actually think the book is even more bleak, especially in the way it exposes the limits of literacy and education.

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