This year, I have read some outstanding books. Some of them made me question love and humanity, some brought me to the edge of my seat, some shined a light on my anxieties and biggest fears.
Only two books this year have earned five-star reviews from me, however, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that both have been from African-American authors, and both have tackled hard issue of being black in a white America.
The Hate U Give An American Marriage
I wrote about The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas back in January. I wrote the review almost immediately after finishing reading this novel, and I regretted posting it as soon as it hit the web. Not because I wasn’t honest or because I didn’t cover my thoughts and emotions, but because it didn’t feel complete. Even though it was the longest review I’ve ever written, it still didn’t scratch the surface of the ideas and questions that book presented.
Cut to a month later, and I’m trying to write a review for An American Marriage by Tayari Jones. It’s another 5 star book, but it’s not as easy to dissect. The characters were more nuanced, and the story felt more personal. The fact that the book is titled An AMERICAN Marriage stuck with me throughout the entire novel. It’s not MY marriage, and I’m certainly American.
But I’m white.
I think that, with both of these books, the impact they had on me was so profound, so resonating, BECAUSE I am white. I’ve written posts on why I read, and these two books explain it completely.
I read for different perspectives. To walk in shoes that don’t look like my own. The perspectives given in these two novels are perspectives that need to be heard.
Culture Struggles
Starr is a black kid living in a white world for most of her day. She goes to a school that I imagine is very similar to the school I teach in. She puts on a face and persona to fit into the culture that society tells her she needs to fit into. But she realizes she’s faking it. When she’s forced to face this fact, when she realizes she cannot continue being two people at once, the effort nearly kills her, and all of her friendships are thrown into a new light.
Celestial is married to an amazing man who is imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s serving five-to-life for being a black man sleeping in a Louisiana hotel where a white woman was raped. Although most of their story is told from Roy’s point of view, or through letters between the couple, Celestial’s decisions are central to the story. Her battle between staying with the innocent (but imprisoned) man she’s married to is not something she takes lightly. At one point, she is struggling with what she truly wants and what she feels she should do for her community.
The sense of black identity is strong in both of these novels, and not in a way that is pandering or stereotypical. It is so refreshing and so necessary to see African-American characters who are full, focused, and well-rounded. They have the typical internal struggles that plague every human: self-worth, friendship drama, family ties, coming-of-age, marital decisions. But there is an undercurrent in both of these novels that aren’t present in books with white characters: a sense of duty and obligation to their heritage.
Self vs. Community
Both Starr and Celestial are constantly warring with what they want to do and what their community needs them to do. Both of them have to account for their own actions and the actions of their peers, but they must also make every decision with their ancestors and with the politics of this nation in their heads.
“I’ve seen it happen over and over again: a black person gets killed just for being black, and all hell breaks loose. I’ve tweeted RIP hashtags, reblogged pictures on Tumblr, and signed every petition out there. I always said that if I saw it happen to somebody, I would have the loudest voice, making sure the world knew what went down.
Now I am that person, and I’m too afraid to speak.”
― Angie Thomas, The Hate U Give
I think that what made these novels stand out to me was their commitment to community, their constant need to do what is right for themselves as well as what was right for their neighbors, friends, and allies. There was a struggle there that I’ve never experienced and, honestly, I will probably never have to. These novels gave me a small glimpse, a dose of experience, of what some African-Americans must live with in this life: fear of police brutality, worry over wrongful imprisonment, feeling like a stereotype when you can’t provide for your family.
These books just made me check my privilege, dive deeper into my beliefs, and fight harder for the changes I can make in America. I feel honored to read these books.
