Wide Sargasso Sea: Jean Rhys's Caribbean Gothic Postcolonial Novel

 Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

Wide Sargasso Sea book cover

Author Jean Rhys

I can’t remember why exactly I bought this book, but I’m sure that part of the book was inspired by my vacation to Jamaica. I know, too, that I’ve come across the book previously, but as someone who never read Jane Eyre, it was not something that I studied or was familiar with in college. It may have been after I read Anna Biller’s excellent Bluebeard’s Castle, which pulls from both Bronte’s and Rhys’s narratives of the subjugation and gaslighting of women through marriage. Although I purchased this book before reading Tao Leigh Goffe’s excellent Dark Laboratories, her analysis of the book as a countertext to provide additional perspectives on the dominant views in canonical texts made me want to read Wide Sargasso Sea even more. It was also interesting to learn more about Rhys’ life and completion of the book over 20 years with Judith Raskin’s brief biography and background about the novel. Even though this is a brief novel, it was filled with ideas, allusions, and symbolism that kept me reading. I loved learning more about the history of Jamaica and Dominica, and how Rhys incorporated not only personal references, but the cultural and botanical references to the Caribbean throughout the book. At times, I felt that I could inhale the intoxicating floral aroma that emanates from the pages. This is the kind of book that I lost myself in reading as Rhys evokes a tropical paradise that also becomes a kind of prison for Antoinette Cosway, an heiress who lives in Jamaica shortly after the emancipation of those who were enslaved but is married off by her brother and is haunted by the fate of her mother who was institutionalized after the family was attacked and their estate burned.

The story takes place when Antoinette was younger on their plantation in Jamaica, shortly after emancipation. While the family was once wealthy, their estate has fallen into disrepair, which seems to be a common motif throughout the novel and creates a gothic feeling of decay and decadence. Antoinette’s mother is forced to remarry to improve the situation, but her new husband, Mr. Mason, is only looking to take advantage of the distressed property and woman. It’s not a marriage of love, but rather a power and land grab, which is another motif of the men in this story. Antoinette’s family is always viewed with suspicion among the emancipated people of Jamaica, and the threat of another plantation master returning results in their burning of the house, an attack on Antoinette, and the death of her younger brother, which eventually leads to extreme grief for Antoinette’s mother. Mr. Mason uses this episode of grief to have her institutionalized and sends Antoinette off to convent to study.

The second part of the story takes place during Antoinette’s honeymoon with her unnamed husband, but who is likely Rochester in Jane Eyre. This part of the book takes place in Dominica, where Antoinette’s mother is from, and is told from the unnamed husband’s perspective as well as Antoinette’s. This was my favorite part of the book, as it contrasts the beauty and idyls of the island with the subjugation and brutality that Antoinette experiences as the hands of her husband. Antoinette’s husband not only struggles to adapt to the way of life on the island, demonstrating his cultural incongruity, but Antoinette begins to develop doubts about her relationship to her husband, creating a sense of paranoia and fear that is only magnified by her family’s history of institutionalization. To further complicate the situation, there is a man who claims to be Antoinette’s half-brother, and he claims to be entitled to the property and money from the family. Throughout this section, we also learn more about the life of Christophine, Antoinette’s nurse from childhood, whose belief in Obeah, the traditional spiritual healing and magic system in Jamaica, arouses further suspicions between the couple. I loved the character of Christophine, as she seems to fight against the patriarchy and colonial mindset that Antoinette’s husband brings to the marriage and honeymoon. She also attempts to bring a sense of identity and independence to Antoinette, challenging her husband. It was fascinating to learn more about the Obeah practices and some of the ideas of zombis that were included in the texts and notes. Throughout this section, Rhys continues to develop this sense of decay and degradation that mirrors the relationship between Antoinette and her husband, especially as he begins to call her Bertha, changing her name and shifting her identity against her will.

The novel ends with the third and shortest part, where the couple journeys to England after the death of the husband’s father and brother and Antoinette renamed Bertha, thus further erasing her identity while imposing a new self on her. It’s a fascinating book that challenges the patriarchy and colonialism that were and continue to be a part of the history of the Caribbean, while also presenting countertexts that challenge the dominant view. By giving voice and life to “Bertha”, we not only learn about Rochester’s true nature, but we also learn more about the other women he’s silenced and taken advantage of throughout the years. Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea not only signifies on the classic Jane Eyre, but it highlights much of the racism, classism, sexism, and inequality that continue to exist today. Furthermore, it’s a haunting gothic tale that is both evocative and insightful. I also love this Norton Critical Edition, which has great notes and background information. I’m hoping to read some of the literary criticism about the text. Highly recommended! 

Paradise of the Damned by Keith Thomson

 Paradise of the Damned: The True Story of an Obsessive Quest for El Dorado by Keith Thomson

Paradise of the Damned book cover

Author Keith Thomson

Thank you to Netgalley and Little, Brown and Company for allowing me to read this advanced copy of Keith Thomson’s Paradise of the Damned: The True Story of an Obsessive Quest for El Dorado. Thomson’s book was a well-researched and detailed story of Sir Walter Raleigh’s lifelong quest to find El Dorado, starting from Elizabethan England and moving to Colombia, Venezuela, Guiana and the Orinoco River in South America. The book primarily follows Raleigh, tracing his early years spent in Elizabeth’s court and how he came to exploration and sailing. Thomson’s book features much adventure and many mishaps, especially around the war for the New World in the Americas between Spain and England. The book’s best parts are when Raleigh is in South America, looking for El Dorado while also navigating uncharted rivers, streams, waterfalls, and avoiding unknown predators like anacondas, alligators, and piranhas. It was fascinating to gain a deeper insight into how dangerous the new world was, mostly because of how unknown the terrain was. I also enjoyed learning more about Raleigh’s earlier approaches to diplomacy and finding ways to ensure that the Spanish would not beat him to El Dorado and how he sought out indigenous support from existing tribes. The other parts of the book that took place in England were not as exciting to me. I did not know much about Sir Walter Raleigh, so this book provided an engaging biography, but I was surprised to learn that in England at the time, the rule of law, especially things like evidence and due process were not really part of the society. Thus, reading about Raleigh’s years in prison for a kind of hearsay association with a plot to overthrow King James was important to know about. This also somewhat mirrored Raleigh’s earlier experiences with Queen Elizabeth when he was imprisoned for having a child with his future wife without informing the Queen. Thomson’s sharing of these events and the injustices that Raleigh faced helped to illustrate the kind of whims of the crown that many people, especially prominent people, faced. Although these parts dealing with the legal practices of England were important, I found them to be not as exciting as the chapters set in South America and dealing with the quest for El Dorado. It was also surprising that King James let Raleigh return to find El Dorado, despite being imprisoned for pretty much treason (even if the charges were never really tried). Raleigh’s second campaign, when he was in his 60s, did not go well. Like his initial quest to El Dorado, the hope was to bring money back to England in the form of gold. However, with a strong Spanish presence in the areas in Venezuela, Colombia, and Guiana he struggled to return to some of the areas he visited in 1590s (about 20 years prior). I won’t spoil the ending, but Raleigh does return to England without any gold, failing once again to find El Dorado and dealing with a hungry, tired, and mutinous crew. This leads Raleigh to face King James’s wrath and power. Most of this book was exciting, and I loved the images that Thomson selected to accompany these chapters. They really helped to illustrate the challenges and individuals involved in Raleigh’s various quests. While the book primarily focused on Raleigh’s quest, there were some other chapters that dealt with English and Spanish relations during this time, as well as Raleigh’s time spent imprisoned. These were necessary to understand some of Raleigh’s motivations for seeking out El Dorado once again, and the consequences of his failure to find it and bring home any gold. These sections were not as exciting but helped understand the broader perspective of this society. 

An Urgent and Important Book: Chain of Ideas by Ibram X. Kendi

 Chain of Ideas: The Origins of Our Authoritarian Age by Ibram X. Kendi

Chain of Ideas book cover

Scholar and Author Ibram X. Kendi

Many thanks to Random House, One World Publishers, and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Ibram X. Kendi’s timely and urgent new book Chain of Ideas: The Origins of Our Authoritarian Age. Dr. Kendi, who currently chairs the Advanced Study Institute at Howard University, is one of the most prominent researchers, teachers, and activists in racism, and his work is not only is well-researched, but also is accessible for general audiences. Although Chain of Ideas is a necessary book for many people today, I’m afraid that those who would most benefit from learning more about the origins and effects of The Great Replacement Theory are not going to pick up this book. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that many will stamp Dr. Kendi’s research and ideas as racist or woke, positioning this book as something it is not. Politicians and cultural warriors have branded Dr. Kendi as a dangerous thinker, but I think his work is some of the most important out there today, not only because of his ability to clearly analyze racism through social and historical lenses, but also to propose thoughtful, considerate, and meaningful change in a way that clearly demonstrates Dr. Kendi’s skills as a teacher and public intellectual.

Chain of Ideas primarily interrogates the Great Replacement Theory, a misguided belief that policies and movements in the United States and around the world are anti-white, and looking for ways to benefit other races at the expense of white people. Dr. Kendi’s research traces how this idea has gained recent traction in the past 15-20 years in Europe and the US but is really a result of distancing and recycling of Nazi ideas, which were ultimately influenced by US segregation and Indian removal policies that largely relied on racial categories to benefit white citizens over others. Dr. Kendi provides 10 links in the chain that demonstrate how the Great Replacement theory operates and its impact on society as well as the violence it has wrought in Europe, America, and areas like Australia and New Zealand. Many of the mass shootings have cited Great Replacement ideas and fears, and when these happen, replacement politicians often offer distancing, but still manage to either redirect blame or fear monger about other issues whether it is immigration, gun rights, or privileges. Regardless, it’s important for the public to not only understand this theory, but also be able to recognize some of the dog whistles and calls to discrimination that politicians evoke to instill fear and stoke violence among their followers.

Each chain in the link is focused on many different examples across history and around the world. While I think many readers will be familiar with the American examples and especially the more recent American examples, it was shocking to learn more about what’s been happening in Europe and how politicians are using the fear of immigrants to manipulate Europeans into a zero-sum way of thinking, that immigrants’ gain comes at a citizens’ loss. In fact, I felt so frustrated and sad while reading this to see how many people are manipulated regularly with misinformation, a lack of clear understanding of history, and a willingness to readily accept false promises because of politicians’ clout or prior success. In a lot of ways, I kept thinking about Ta-Neihisi Coates’ “The First White President,” which argues that Trump used similar manipulative methods to stoke white resentment among social classes that other politicians had used. Rather than finding commonality in the exploitation of the working class or banding together to have more power, politicians will often use zero sum thinking in race and note that progress and opportunities come at a cost for white people, which is clearly not true. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi’s refutation of the kind of reverse racism that has sadly become a spectacle of the latest Trump administration reminded me of Keon West’s excellent book The Science of Racism, that demonstrates the true impact of racism and biases on access to things like jobs and opportunities, while also making a strong argument about the false nature of these ideas of reverse racism. Similarly, Dr. Kendi notes that this is just another method that has been used since the Nazi’s grabbed power in 1930s Germany to present their enemies as threats and disempower them to the point of expulsion and elimination. As Dr. Kendi notes, while WWII ended the Nazis, these ideas have gradually been sanitized and updated for our modern world. He rejects the idea of neo-Nazis since these are the same ideas, just rebranded. I hadn’t really thought about this since we continually mention neo-Nazis, but they really are the same ideas, or as Gil Scott Heron once said, it “ain’t no new thing.”  It’s just scary and disheartening to learn how this cycle continues, and how easily people are manipulated into believing these kinds of falsehoods and misrepresentations.

One of the most frightening elements of the book is how many of these ideas were reanimated by a novelist making observations in France in the late 90s. Rather than being guided by statistics and facts, Renaud Camus’s conspiratorial ideas spread throughout Europe and took hold in America as well, where change and difference were demonized and blamed for everything from inflation, to violence, to housing shortages, and unemployment, allowing others holding more responsibility to skirt blame and evade accountability. It’s also sad to see how powerful and generally intelligent people will misuse and manipulate others’ misfortune to gain advantages and power in society. While American politicians adopted the Southern Strategy of rebranding phrases like school choice and crime to manipulate voters’ fears, recent Trump advisors like the Steves (Bannon and Miller) have used more blatant fear mongering and racism to spread falsehoods and sow division in society. In fact, Miller made sure that others had copies of one of his favorite books, Camp of the Saints, a 1970s dystopian novel, akin to the Eruo-Turner Diaries, which presents immigration as the downfall of European society. We continue to hear these nagging criticisms in Trump and Vance’s admonition of Europe. However, as Dr. Kendi notes, whites are largely the dominant majority in European countries, hardly at risk of losing their status, their population advantage, and more importantly their social capital. It was just surprising to learn how much fiction can masquerade as fact and be so influential on policies and fears. Chain of Ideas is not only eye opening, but it is also a call to awareness and resistance. After reading Dr. Kendi’s dismantling of these bonds which chain people to racist and violent ideas, readers should feel more empowered to identify the falsehoods and propaganda, to require facts and confirmation rather than just accept the biases and falsehoods of conmen looking to stay out of jail. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi’s book is timely and necessary as America continues to slip in its autonomy. We are witnessing continued attempts to make voting more difficult, while an armed militia of untrained loyalists is now policing airports while Steven Bannon notes how ICE would be ideal to patrol polling places. Dr. Kendi’s comparisons with other countries that have slipped into autocracy should also serve as a warning to see how the transition from democracy to autonomy isn’t sudden and jarring, but rather a slow erosion that happens with dismantling the typical bulwarks and checks that balance out power (see Hungary, Turkey, El Salvador, and Russia).

While Chain of Ideas is not always an easy read, learning and change are not always easy. There’s a certain level of discomfort and challenge that comes with incorporating new and uncomfortable ideas into our existing schema, yet Dr. Kendi uses familiar references and examples to make his point, making the history and current threats all the more accessible. The only suggestions I have are to have more transitions between paragraphs to better develop the links and connections between different examples and countries. The book shifts from different examples, both historically and country-wise. I found that sometimes I needed to go back to better understand the connection, and I wondered if having more transitions to better emphasize the connections between ideas would have helped with the ideas. Additionally, I wish the book was more focused on solutions. The “Epilogue” does present some steps to take, and it notes how America is different from the other examples. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi also encourages readers to take action at the end of the book; however, the book at times does feel like it’s a downer, and I felt myself getting discouraged at times, which is also an important sign of its power. Maybe there will be some new editions or future works that focus on advocacy and action. However, Dr. Kendi does important work in teaching us about the history of this dangerous idea, and how it has been recycled and repositioned for modern audiences. Highly recommended!

Powerful and Relevant Essay Collection: Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

 Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas by Ngugi wa Thiong'o

Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas cover

Author, scholar, activist Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

Many thanks to The New Press and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s last book before he passed. Although I was saddened to learn about the passing of Kenya’s most prominent thinkers, writers, and advocates, I was excited to find this collection of writings and essays available for review. I greatly appreciate The New Press allowing me to review the book in exchange for my honest opinion. I first encountered Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s work in my undergraduate studies, reading A Grain of Wheat in an amazing World Literature course. A Grain of Wheat stood out as one of the most powerful and transformative books that I read. At the time, I hadn’t been completely familiar with Kenya’s fight for independence, but Ngũgĩ’s characters brought this struggle and its challenges to light in a meaningful and poetic way. Furthermore, my professor, Dr. Awuyah, made the readings so compelling and engaging, and A Grain of Wheat remains one of the most memorable from that course even years later.

I was also attracted to the title of this book as it focused on decolonization and language, two ideas that are incredibly appealing and interesting to me. The first part of the book, Decolonizing Language, focuses on that subject, providing examples and ideas of the power of the language and how colonization, and in particular language rules and imperialism seek to eradicate culture, beliefs and indigenous knowledge. Ngũgĩ provides examples throughout history of how countries sought to dominate and control through imposing a dominant language while limiting indigenous languages. It’s an important idea that is often neglected or forgotten, especially as more and more languages die every year. I was both surprised and excited to find that he used the example of Ireland as one of the first colonial linguistic experiments in Europe, and yet, he acknowledged that great Irish writers like Yeats and Joyce are often included in English literature Canons despite the attempted eradication of Gaelic, their native language. The idea of language and power is also represented in both writers’ work, as it is in other Irish authors like Brian Friel, whose play Translations, dealt with the kinds of issues Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o brings up about language, memory, culture, and the power of naming. While there are many important ideas and themes that emerged from Ngũgĩ’s essays, I found two to be highly important. First, “Language conquest, unlike the military form, wherein the victor must subdue the whole population directly, is cheaper and more effective: the conqueror only has to invest in capturing the minds of the elite, who will then spread submission to the rest of the population.” While Ngũgĩ is referring to nation and culture, I think this idea is relevant and applicable to our current situation in the US, and in many ways further represents the kind of cultural and generational shifts that are occurring through different means of communication as we shift into accessing more information through social media and other digital formats. In many ways, it feels like there is a kind of linguistic battle occurring where forces are arguing about the nature of facts, representation, accessibility, and knowledge. I appreciated Ngũgĩ’s call to continually keep language and culture alive through reading, writing, and orality. The other idea that seemed highly important was pulled form historical examples in British colonies, especially in India, where English became “the language of education in order to form a class of ‘interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern, a class of persons Indian in blood and color, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and intellect.’” While Ngũgĩ’s examples represent the colonial use of education to create an educated class that still remained separate from the ruling class, with some privileges, yet never completely integrated, it’s also reminiscent of much of the ideological battles that are occurring now in education, and how the dominant culture currently in power is seeking to reshape American’s access to education with spurious claims of ideological capture and indoctrination. It almost seems like there is an invention of pseudoscientific terms to create fearmongering in order to shift ideologies. We see how language and education are used in these kinds of ways to dominate and eliminate ideas that are deemed threatening or counter the ruling class. Nevertheless, Ngũgĩ notes that “The colony of the mind prevents meaningful, nationally empowering innovations in education,” which seems to be the goal. Rather than innovate and encourage free and critical thinking, we are moving more towards this kind of colonial mentality where recitation and memorization are more important than independent thought and ideas. Actually, Ngũgĩ differentiates between education, which he notes as more like conditioning and knowledge, which he defines as an addictive element to an individual.

Another great essay in the book focused on the role of the University in a Global Community, and again, I felt like there was so much to take away and apply from this essay. It’s also interesting to see the university from Ngũgĩ’s perspective, as someone who helped shape disciplinary studies in African and American universities, calling for the shift away from “English” departments to “Literature” departments that sought to be more inclusive and diverse. As he notes “the university has a great role to play. Just as the university hosts different disciplines, which, while pursuing their particularity, should be in dialogue with one another, the university should be the modern patron of an intellectual discourse among languages and cultures. No university should be proud of monoculturalism or monolingualism. Building bridges between even apparently irreconcilable viewpoints is an important function of the university.” I loved this quote and this entire essay that focuses on the ways in which universities provided additive knowledge to students in order to further enhance their perspectives and viewpoints. Although Ngũgĩ’s experience, fighting for the inclusion of African, Asian, and other writers not often represented in the canon, is different, his words are a reminder of how powerful the role of the university remains in American life, and the ways that current policies are intending to shift towards this kind of monoculturalism and, as Chimanda Ngozi Adichie warns, the dangers of a single story. If anything, Ngũgĩ’s words and essay are an important reminder of how powerful and transformative the university can be both on an individual and a societal level.

The second half of the book, from chapters 7 through 20, focus on “Voices of Prophecy,” and discuss many of Ngũgĩ’s contemporaries and colleagues. I’m not sure whether the chapter on Achebe was meant to be funny, but Ngũgĩ discusses how after Things Fall Apart, every African writer became Achebe, where even he and his son were both mistaken for Achebe. It’s a funny story, but also somewhat troubling in that a scholar of African literature didn’t even know what Achebe’s age or appearance were like. Other essays detail his relationship to other well-known African writers, and their struggles writing in English or switching to their native languages. Ngũgĩ’s experiences as a political prisoner in Kenya are also a reminder of how powerful and subversive literature can be, and how the artist can also be a source of resistance and rebellion against politically powerful individuals. There is a lot to consider in these chapters as well, and I enjoyed learning more about Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s career and collaborations with other writers, especially as he sought to diversify Literary studies and make them more inclusive.

This was an excellent collection, one that I will revisit and would consider using for the classroom. There are many great essays in here, and I as someone who studied African literature in college, I found these texts particularly relevant and meaningful. Furthermore, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s experience challenging the colonial mindset—seeking to decolonize not just nations, but also mentalities, is an important reminder about the role of language and knowledge in this kind of colonizer mindset. I was surprised and excited at how relevant and powerful these essays are in the current landscape. Highly recommended! 

Examining The Consequences of Imperialism

 The Wide Sea: Imperial Ambition, First Contact and the Fateful Final Voyage of Captain James Cook by Hampton Sides

The Wide Sea book cover

Thank you to NetGalley and Double Day Books for allowing me to preview Hampton Sides’s The Wide Wide Sea. I previously read Sides’s excellent book In the Kingdom of Ice, which I found to be an incredible adventure story. Not knowing much about arctic exploration, it was fascinating to learn about a world where certain regions were unknown and unexplored. The Wide Wide Sea follows a similar pattern in tracing the final journey of British explorer Captain Cook. I also did not know much about Cook, but having read David Grann’s The Wager recently as well, I was really interested in this period of naval exploration, especially as countries like Spain and England competed for the new land and sea routes. Sides opens the story discussing Cook and his legacy as an explorer (or negative discoverer) and how his views of indigenous groups were often more tolerant and inquisitive of other explorers of his time. I also appreciated Sides’s notes to begin about the changing views of Cook’s explorations and the idea of “discovery” and private property in many of the Polynesian lands that Cook explored. What was most important, though, was the nature of contact and how the limited narratives we have about sexual contact between the British and indigenous peoples they met. Sides indicates that our knowledge is primarily one-sided, but this was one of the more surprising elements of the book to learn how the men frequently spread disease through sexual contact, and how frequently Cook tried to stop this practice. Like In the Kingdom of Ice, Sides uses the journals and letters existing from the logs and diaries to give us insight into the different participants, and he does amazing work building relevant and engaging characters, as we learn about their motivations and thoughts about this journey. I also really appreciated that Sides brings in the indigenous beliefs and stories, especially when the men visit Hawaii, to learn more about the possible motivations for trade, contact, or even understanding how the indigenous people may have viewed Cook and his men.

One of the other fascinating parts of the book was the story of Mai or Omai, a young Polynesian man who was brought to England in the 1700s as almost a human pet. As horrible as that was, it was fascinating to learn about his experiences adapting to English culture, and how this cross-cultural experience affected him on his return to Polynesia/Ra’itea. I really enjoyed reading about his return to the islands and the challenges he had re-integrating into their society. Furthermore, his family was killed by people from Bora Bora, so much of his return was focused on revenge on the people who murdered his family and stole his land. It was really interesting, but also somewhat sad. It sounded like Cook really cared about Mai and that others also took more than a passing interest in him and his well being; yet, those who were educating him in England seemed to have different intentions. Nevertheless, Mai’s story plays an important part in the first 1/3-1/2 of the book. The other part of the book deals more with Cook’s arrival in Hawaii for the first time, travels to Alaska, attempts to  

However, it was Sides’s ability to use the letters and journals of the participants to develop their characters and understand their motivations. In much the same way, Sides uses the logs and existing literature on the journey of Captain Cook’s travels to the Alaskan coast, attempts to navigate towards the arctic circle, and his return to Hawaii. I loved reading about these descriptions of the landscapes untouched by development and the traditions and beliefs of the indigenous people that Cook’s ships encountered. As Sides notes, Cook was not always tolerant and accepting of these other cultures, but more often than not, he was willing to learn more about them to understand their motivations, and most likely access their resources like water and timber for their ship. This was another thrilling adventure with some sad consequences. Nevertheless, it was interesting to learn about all of the areas that Cook explored that were previously unknown to European explorers. Highly recommended book. 

Healing the Past With Culture: Medicine River by Mary Annette Pember

 Medicine River: A Story of Survival and the Legacy of Indian Boarding Schools  

by Mary Annette Pember

Medicine River book cover

Author Mary Annette Pember

Many thanks to Pantheon Books and NetGalley for allowing me to review an advanced copy of Mary Annette Pember’s powerful book Medicine River: A Story of Survival and the Legacy of Indian Boarding Schools. I am glad that more researchers, historians and journalists like Pember have started to excavate the hidden history of abuses and coercion that have occurred at Indian Boarding Schools during the 19th and 20th centuries. A few months ago, I read Eve Ewing’s incredible book Original Sins: The (Mis)education of Black and Native Children and the Construction of Americanism which challenges the notion of education as a means to social and economic mobility, and rather than viewing education as an equalizing force in society, Ewing recasts the ways that education was used to control and eradicate culture, operating under the assumptions of a cultural superiority that is still persistent today. It’s a powerful lesson and book that challenged my own ideas and hopes about education, yet also presented some ways that education can continue to grow and adapt to better teach Black and Native students. Medicine River focuses more specifically on Indian boarding schools, which were prominent throughout the 19th and even the 20th century, and explores their economic, social, and psychological legacy and the generations trauma that continues to haunt many Native families long after their ancestors attended these schools. Using her own mother’s experience in the Sister School in Wisconsin. Recalling discussions and stories from her Mother, Bernice, Pember begins to weave the story of these boarding schools with history, policy, and the tragedies that often were a continued part of these schools. While I initially thought this book would be mostly a focus on the history and legacies of the schools, Pember uses her mother’s experience, along with other subjects in the book, to examine the generational pain and emotional destruction that these schools have wrought on Native communities across the United States and Canada. She not only explores her mother’s story, but also interweaves her own experiences with school, exploring how her mother’s pain and abuse connected to Pember’s own eventual disconnection with school and her decision to run away from home in the 1970s. Pember’s story is one of redemption, and explores how she overcame these initial challenges to earn a college degree and a successful career in journalism, while also eventually becoming sober. The latter third of the book delves more into how traditional therapies and recovery efforts may not necessarily be culturally relevant to Native groups, who experience some of the highest rates of poverty and addiction in America. She presents the story of a Yup’ik community in Alaska that uses more traditional methods and encourages a sustenance lifestyle that their ancestors practiced to help members overcome addition and challenging mental health problems. Pember also revisits the painful last years of her mother’s life, while also continuing to weave together new revelations from her grandparents’ lives that she never realized due to her mother’s trauma. Medicine River is almost like 3 books in one—sharing some of the best qualities of memoir, historical analysis, and culturally relevant mental health practices. Although the book is challenging and features instances of violence, abuse, and the deaths of Native children, it’s an important reminder to recognize the kind of settler mentality and cultural supremacy that devised these schools and recognized them as a powerful state tool to not only eradicate Indigenous cultures across North America, but also as a means to weaken familial ties and gain land and access to minerals and resources like timber. 

While I enjoyed the entirety of this book, I felt like Pember’s strongest points were when she was writing about the boarding schools and the history and policies that eventually brought them about. Like Ewing’s book, Pember delves into the policies that brought about these schools, and how politicians used them as a means of control and coercion, and to avoid the physical genocide by bringing about a cultural genocide, often repeating the phrase on which these schools operated “Kill the Indian, save the man.” Pember begins by researching the archives for these schools which are held at Marquette University. She shares how there is some hesitancy to allow her full access, and her initial experience with the archives did not really provide that much illuminating evidence. However, her later research explores many of the horrors that children and their families experienced, from forcing the children into these schools with threats and legal action to the forced assimilation towards White Christianity. In what is some of the most harrowing research presented, Pember explores how illnesses which were typically deadly in the 19th and early 20th century, like measles, tuberculosis, and the flu, were often passed to Native children, who were then sent home to further spread these illnesses within their communities. Pember documents various cases of young children, infected with disease, and often returning home to die. In other cases, she explores how families were often notified after burial of their children’s passing. It’s heartbreaking and shocking to learn that while these schools were supposed to provide care and education for Native children, they were often sites of cultural and physical violence, sometimes even resulting in death. Pember, through her own family’s experiences, details the long-lasting effects of this kind of abuse and pain, and how families often pass down the emotional pain from generation to generation. I learned so much from these chapters, and Pember’s detailed research and fact-finding helped to add even more depth and significance to the research presented in Ewing’s book. 

Pember then transitions into her own story, which is both fascinating and tragic, yet ultimately redemptive and hopeful. It was interesting to learn about her mother’s experiences once she left the Sisters School, but then how Pember first met her grandfather, who plays an important role in the later story, once Pember learns more about how her mother eventually ended up in the Sisters School. Pember shares her own experiences in school, and the kind of racism and discrimination she faced in schools, leading her to eventually leave and run away. This part of the book was surprising, not only for Pember’s adventures as a runaway, but also as to the candor and bravery for telling her story. I wasn’t expecting this part of the book, and it was fascinating to learn more about her background and experiences. I think this aspect of her story also shows the kind of generational trauma or how the unresolved pain and anguish can be passed along from mother to daughter. It’s an important message about acknowledging the pain and hurt once experiences to move beyond it and ensure that we don’t subject our children to the same kind of pain and hurt we experienced as children. Pember’s story is also hopeful since she explores how she eventually returned from juvenile incarceration to attend University of Wisconsin and earn a degree in journalism. Although she doesn’t get too into the details of her alcoholism, she discusses her initial career as a journalist, and how it kind of enabled her drinking further. However, in returning to the idea of generational trauma, Pember experiences waking up from a drunken night on a bathroom with her daughter staring at her. This was her moment of clarity, when she recognized that she didn’t want to inflict the same pain and hurt that she experienced on her daughter. It’s a powerful lesson to learn, and sadly one that Pember’s mother, Bernice, continued to struggle with throughout her life. 

The latter part of the book deals more with overcoming this kind of trauma and the acknowledgement of the destruction and damage done by these boarding schools. The focus isn’t completely on the schools themselves, but rather many of the health and mental health challenges that Native communities face in America and Canada today. One of the most powerful sections focuses on Pember’s journey to Alaska to meet with a Yup’ik community that is burying a young man who was murdered by his niece, over an argument that no one is really sure how it began. This was also an important part of the book since Pember explains how often the traditional therapeutic practices for dealing with mental health issues aren’t always relevant and don’t always work for Indigenous peoples. I found this idea to be similar to educational researchers like Gloria Ladson Billings and Lisa Delpit who argue that in order for learning to be meaningful for groups of students, it needs to relevant and aligned with their own cultural values and experiences. Similarly, Pember’s revelation about the inefficacy of these practices also reminded me of Alisha McCullough’s book Reclaiming the Black Body: Nourishing the Home Within, where she explores how Western and White concepts of body image and nutrition are often ineffective and sometimes unhealthy for people of color. It’s an important reminder about how the kind of ethnocentricity continues to permeate and cause problems by failing to acknowledge cultural differences and preferences. Furthermore, I think Pember’s analysis and exploration of culturally relevant practices is an important reminder of the how necessary it is to acknowledge and include diversity in our education, practices, and considerations. The continued war against diversity can have devasting and lethal consequences for those communities that continue to face challenges and hardships, while also facing a denial of their practices, values, and beliefs. Another chapter follows the revelations about the abuse and deaths in Canadian boarding schools, and how despite acknowledgement and pledges from the government, many of the First Nations People are still waiting for reparations. I also found it interesting how Canadian politicians and even the Pope acknowledged, but also hedged their responsibilities and roles in the abuse, often blaming things like the doctrine of discovery or a colonial mentality that people were following at the time. Pember presents Canada’s actions as both a kind of blueprint for what to do and what not to do. She also outlines how Deb Haaland, the former Secretary of the Interior, helped to lead an investigation into the abuses in American Indian Boarding Schools. While I’m not hopeful that much will come of these investigations now with a change in the regime that seems to care nothing about history or Indigenous peoples, it’s still important to see what kinds of action have been taking place and how this may lead to change or further investigations in the future. Furthermore, Pember’s book will also serve as an important document that explores not just the events themselves, but the continued legacy and challenges that many descendants of boarding school survivors face. The last chapter also details Bernice’s later years and death, and how Pember was able to eventually learn more about her mother’s life and how she ended up at the Sister’s school. It was different from her mother’s memory, and this chapter served as an interesting way to recognize how the pain and trauma can often cloud our perception of the past, causing us to re-evaluate who was at fault and who we may look to for protection. Although the book was filled with pain and tragedy, Pember does end on a hopeful note, acknowledging her own experience as one of hope and resilience, but also acknowledging that there is still more work and healing to be done. I loved how she used her experience of the jingle dress, a traditional Ojibwe practice for healing, to emphasize the importance of culture to healing and moving on. This is a great book with a powerful message and exploration of both personal experience and its connection to larger events in American history.

Reverential References in Stephen Graham Jones's The Buffalo Hunter Hunter

 The Buffalo Hunter Hunter 

by Stephen Graham Jones

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter book cover

Author Stephen Graham Jones

Blackfeet Indians at Sun Dance

Thank you to Saga Press and NetGalley for allowing me to read and review a copy of Stephen Graham Jones’s new book The Buffalo Hunter Hunter. I’ve read a few other books by Stephen Graham Jones, and my favorite was The Only Good Indians, mostly because it reminded me of a few other books I’ve previously read. While My Heart is a Chainsaw also wore its influences on its pages, I felt like it was almost too referential and the allusions became a little too much for me. It is a creative book, but the continuous references to slashers took away from the story for me. Thankfully, this new book has plenty of historical and literary allusions, but also tempers them so that they do not overwhelm the characters and the plot. In fact, I felt like this was a highly creative and compelling story where Graham inhabits the minds and personas of two very different characters. I also enjoyed the frame narrative that Graham employs to tell his story, using the discovery of a manuscript from the early 20^th century to set the story in motion. Etsy Beaucarne, a professor of communications, received a manuscript of her ancestor, Arthur Beaucarne, a Lutheran minister in Montana, who recorded his interactions and the confessions of Good Stab, an Indian in the town. While I’ve read some reviews that compared this kind of story within a story to Frankenstein and even Dracula, where the log of the Demeter essentially tells the story of what happened on the boat, I actually thought the framing was reminiscent of Heart of Darkness. However, we learn about Arthur’s story and experiences through his journal, but we also learn about Good Stab’s background and history, as well as his confessions through his own recounting to Arthur. This kind of structure creates some unreliability, but also allows us to see the events from different perspectives, especially since many history texts have left out the perspectives of Indians and Indigenous People. Good Stab is somewhat mysterious, and seems to unnerve Arthur initially, but Arthur also seems to be harboring some secrets of his own and doesn’t seem to completely fit into the town. He’s not only different, but some of the men make fun of him. In some ways, he finds a fellow outcast in Good Stab, an Indian on the periphery of the town, near where buffalo were nearly hunted to extinction and a massacre of the Pikuni Tribe previously occurred. Through this framing of the Beaucarne Manuscript as both a journal and a confession, Graham Jones is able to draw some initial parallels between the characters of Arthur and Good Stab. However, as we learn more about Good Stab’s story and origins as a Nachzehrer (I had to look this German word for a folkloric spirit that can drain the life from the living—almost like a vampire in Graham Jones’s novel) or catman, we will eventually learn more about the secrets that Arthur Beaucarne is hiding.

Both Beaucarne and Good Stab have unique voices, and Graham Jones effectively established characteristic differences between the two. However, I found it a little hard to adjust to their different styles at first. For one, Beaucarne writes like an educated member of the upper class from the late 19^th/early 20^th century. I found myself a little lost at times in his musings and observations about the town and Good Stab. As the story picks up and we learn more about both characters, I think I warmed to his peripatetic thoughts, but it takes some adjustment. Nevertheless, Graham Jones authentically re-creates this kind of narrator. I found Good Stab, on the other hand, more entertaining and endearing. His story about transformation from a Pikuni whose family is in the Sandhills (the afterworld) into a creature somewhat like a Vampire is incredible. Graham Jones uses literal names from the Pikunis (I think) to name animals. For example, Good Stab talks about Long-legs, swift-runners, and Blackhorns. It took me some time to figure out what these animals were, but I really enjoyed that kind of language use. It reminded me a lot of Achebe’s use of Igbo in Things Fall Apart. I also kept coming across the word napikwan, which sounded familiar. This is where I realized the similarities with James Welch’s book Fools Crow, which retells the story of the Marias Massacre and how white settlement (or colonizing) preceded this massacre of innocent Blackfeet Indians. In many ways, Good Stab is somewhat like the main character Fools Crow, who also undergoes a renaming and transformation, mostly due to his stories and exaggerations. I felt that Good Stab also exaggerated, but we also learn that there is truth to his stories. Furthermore, we learn that there is also a connection between both Graham Jones’s and Welch’s novel in that the Marias Massacre plays a part in both books. If you have the opportunity to read the Acknowledgement section, make sure you do. Graham Jones talks about visiting Welch’s house and sitting at his desk, which I thought was really amazing giving that the books both memorialize this massacre, giving voice to the dead, and trying, in some ways, to bring the dead back to life.

I’m not completely sure that Good Stab is a vampire, a Nachzehrer, or a Cat Man, but whatever he is, I can see how his ability to live forever is both a blessing and a curse. He’s able to continue to tell his story and recount the atrocities he’s witnessed as settlers continued to overtake the land of the Blackfeet. However, he also has to rely on others to sustain his lifeforce. One of the more interesting and creative twists on this story is the rules that Graham Jones creates for this kind of vampiric creature. I loved how the creature took on the qualities of what is was feeding on. For example, Good Stab noticed that as he was drinking the blood of trappers, he began to grow a beard and his hair color changed. When he drank the blood of animals, like long-legs, he grew antlers. This was a really cool element of the story, and it took the trope of a vampire in a new direction. I also enjoyed that this was also like a revenge story, where Good Stab was pursuing vengeance, not only for his transformation, but also for his people. In some ways, this part reminded me of the excellent film Ganja and Hess, which is also a unique interpretation of the vampire myth. Good Stab is not completely heartless, and he feels some guilt for some of his victims. He also ends up taking care of a buffalo calf named Weasel Plume. This showed that Good Stab was a complicated character, who was capable of both kindness and violence; yet his violence was also a result of his changed nature and interactions with white society. There’s a lot to think about and consider with this book.

In addition to being a historical vampire story that deals with a real-life massacre of Blackfeet Indians, there’s also a mystery happening in the town. The townspeople are ending up murdered in horrific ways. I enjoyed this mystery, and Graham Jones’s descriptions of the deaths are inventive, yet gruesome. For a horror fan, this is a highlight of the book. Furthermore, Beaucarne is haunted by some of these murdered people he has encountered, and he’s trying to understand how he’s connected to these murders.

The ending of the book comes back to the modern day, when things return to Etsy Beaucarne. I also liked her character, even though she’s limited to the beginning and the end. The last part of the book is interesting, but I also felt like it was tonally different from the other parts of the book. Nevertheless, there’s some humor and absurdity that is balanced with the idea of history and tradition and enabling a voice to emerge from the past that was mostly suppressed.  I loved that Good Stab could continue to tell his tale and celebrate his people for his long life. As I was getting towards the end, I also realized that Beaucarne’s name translates to “Good Meat”, which is also something interesting to think about with his character and this book. Although the book is a little long and some of the Beaucarne sections dragged a little with maybe a too-realistic portrayal of a 19th-century clergyman’s observations, it was a creative and compelling book that also tackles issues of culture and violence, as well as assimilation and history. This may not be a book for everyone, but I definitely enjoyed it. 

Excavating the Hidden History of American Involvement in Northern Ireland: Ali Watkins' The Next One Is for You

 The Next One Is for You: A True Story of Guns, Country, and the IRA's Secret American Army by Ali Watkins

The Next One Is For You book cover

Author Ali Watkins

Vince Conlon (carrying the American flag) plays a major role in gun shipments to the IRA

A cover from Cumann na mBan, an Irish women's organization that supported the IRA. 

Big thanks to Little, Brown and Company and NetGalley for allowing me to read and review Ali Watkins exciting and surprising book detailing American involvement in the Troubles of Northern Ireland The Next One Is for you: A True Story of Guns, Country, and the IRA’s Secret American Army. Fellow Temple Alum Ali Watkins has written a fascinating, yet hidden history of the Philly connection to the IRA. What’s even more incredible about this book is how she is able to provide context and background to the complex and complicated political and social violence that besieged Northern Ireland from the 1960s up until the end of the 20^th century. With the recent Hulu series based on Patrick Radden Keefe’s excellent book Say Nothing, there seems to be a resurgence in the interest in the Troubles. While Radden Keefe’s book looks at a specific incident and the fallout from the philosophy of “say nothing”, Watkins’ book examines how American support intertwined with the dual nature of the Provisional IRA and the political art, or Sinn Fein. Watkins’ book examines how support from the Irish diaspora, specifically in Philadelphia, ended up arming and continuing the violence in Northern Ireland. I especially loved her epilogue, when she explains how she aimed to find out how one gun travelled from Philadelphia to Northern Ireland, and the lives it changed as a result. While she wasn’t able to interview some of those affected by the gun violence in Northern Ireland, her journalistic investigation and dogged research to excavate this hidden history helped to shed light into how so many American guns ended up in Northern Ireland.

In addition to being able to effectively explain the different factions in the IRA and the political and social (or maybe cultural) nature of the occupation of Northern Ireland began, Watkins also captures a vivid picture of 1970s Philadelphia and its suburbs, presenting where the gun running first occurred and how the Irish community in and around Philadelphia used a charitable aid organization as a front to ship guns over to Norther Ireland. As a lifelong Philadelphia resident whose own Irish ancestors immigrated to South Philly in the early 20^th century, I was amazed that I didn’t know more about this story. Although my family hails from Letterkenny in Co. Donnegal, not too far from Derry on the border, I’m guessing my relatives weren’t really involved. My great-grandmother was, from my understanding, fleeing a situation where she was responsible for taking care of a lot of her younger siblings. I don’t know too much about her brothers, but it was fascinating to learn how the Irish community in Philly largely kept the mantra of “say nothing”, while facilitating large shipments of arms meant to inflict violence and harm on a colonizing country. I was amazed at how these regular, blue-collar immigrants, many of them contractors and roofers, were able to purchase massive amounts of weapons and ship them overseas for many years without any kind of attention from the feds. Watkins’ reporting and analysis helps to show not only how much of a different time it was, but also how their charitable organizations and social clubs served as a front for collecting money and shipping out weapons. In addition, Watkins also contextualizes the socio and political nature of England’s occupation of Northern Ireland, exploring how many Irish in America felt strongly about the British presence in Norther Ireland, and as a result, politicians were not as willing to pursue investigations into a cause that might sour a large voting block. It was interesting to think about with political violence in other occupied areas, and how the situations differ. While Watkins wasn’t making any comparisons in her book, it’s hard not to think about other current regions and how politicians still struggle (or maybe don’t) with supporting people challenging colonialism and occupation.

Watkins’ writing also brought to life many of the main players in this hidden arms-smuggling venture. Learning about Vince Conlon and Daniel Cahalane, and their NORAID organization, was fascinating. Her research and interviews with family members brought these figures to life, and readers get a good sense of what they were like as men. It was also great to see that she and her publisher included images and photos of these individuals within the book. I loved being able to get a sense of who they were, as well as seeing some of the older photos of Philly from the 1970s. Watkins reporting also ventures to Northern Ireland, specifically retelling the story of Geraldine Crawford, a young girl whose life is changed by her involvement with the IRA. Interestingly, her life intersects with the Price sisters, whose story was told by Radden Keefe’s book (and the Hulu series on which it was based). These were some of the most intriguing chapters within Watkins’ book, since it provided an insight into life in Norther Ireland at the time, but they also gave us an insight into the implications of the gun smuggling and how it affected the lives of both the Irish Catholics and the British Protestants during this violent time in Northern Ireland.

The latter chapters of the book detail the legal cases that were eventually brought against the Irish American men responsible for sending guns to Northern Ireland. The case is fascinating for the vast extent of weapons shipped overseas as well as how long it occurred, but also because of how unsuccessful the case was. Despite winning some convictions, the prosecutors were unable to prove without reasonable doubt that the guns used in Northern Ireland were directly tied to the American aid organizations like NORAID. Watkins’ research into the cases uncovered a fascinating, but forgotten story of politics, guns, and violence. In these later chapters, we also learn the fate of the Irish American men who helped to arm the IRA, as well as how a delicate peace was eventually navigated and achieved in Northern Ireland in the late 1990s. I actually remember both before and after the peace, and visited Northern Ireland in 1999, shortly after the Good Friday accords, so it was really interesting to read this section as well. Reading about how peace was eventually achieved raised many questions for me about the nature of violence in Northern Ireland and around the world. There were some factions of the IRA that broke away from peace talks and still wanted to pursue violence as a means to an end. Most of the men involved in the American gun shipments didn’t live to see the peace, but I wondered what their reaction would be. Would they have sided with Gerry Adams and accepted a seat at the table? This was a wonderfully exciting and engaging book that I couldn’t put down. The short chapters were filled with details, and Watkins stye, balancing carefully researched facts with narrative reconstructions of the events and those involved in this secret gun-smuggling campaign kept me reading through to find out what would happen next. This was a fascinating book that not only excavated a hidden history of American involvement in a foreign war against colonialism, but also provided insightful context and background to further understand the complexities of the fraught social and political violence that has plagued Northern Ireland (and the rest of Ireland) for over 400 years. My only suggestion would be to include some kind of organization chart or a list of individuals involved. There were a lot of different people involved in both the shipping of arms and the investigation into the arms smuggling, and sometimes I found myself having to go back and check out who was involved in which way. This kind of list would help to see who was involved in which way. Highly recommended book. 

Data to Challenge Conceptions of Racism: The Science of Racism by Keon West

 The Science of Racism: Everything You Need to Know but Probably Don't - Yet by Keon West

The Science of Racism book cover

Author, Researcher, and Professor Keon West

Major thanks to Abrams Press and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Dr. Keon West’s The Science of Racism: Everything You Need to Know but Probably Don’t -Yet. I’ve been looking forward to reading this book for a few months, and it came along at an ideal moment as the Trump administration seeks to remove protections against discrimination and find ways to roll back programs and progress aimed at improving diversity, equity, and inclusion in many different areas in American life. Although Dr. West is a research professor in England, much of the research he uses throughout the book is either from the US or relevant to the US. I could also tell from Dr. West’s writing that he is an educator. He is able to take one of the most complicated social problems of the past 3 centuries and provide some research to explain how racism remains a problem. Part of the need to use research to justify the existence of racism in society is due to the fact that many people have proclaimed that racism is no longer an issue or that those who doubt racism suggest that the inequalities are largely a result of personal flaws or characteristics (see Dinesh D’Souza). However, I appreciated that Dr. West not only evaluated the arguments of those who are racism skeptics, but also those who advocate for more change due to systemic racism and white privilege (see Robin DiAngelo). Dr. West acknowledges both arguments, but also identifies that neither uses data and research to support their points. Instead, they largely rely on anecdotal evidence and emotional appeals, which tend to emotionally impact readers, but really do not provide the kind of meaningful support takes a complex phenomenon like racism and allows us to better understand the reasons for its existence. For Dr. West, understanding the reasons will also allow us to better identify ways to treat this issue and find ways to appreciate diversity, while also learning how to become more inclusive. In addition, Dr. West is able to present the complexities of psychological research and concepts and makes them comprehensible by using meaningful analogies that would appeal to readers. I found this aspect of his book especially helpful, and I felt like his explanations provided a useful way to better understand the research, and how the design of certain studies can identify the different ways that racism continues to occur in areas, especially in job hiring. A popular research study/design throughout the book involves sending out CVs/resumes to prospective employers. The resumes contain the same information, but the names are changed to be names that are Black or Hispanic sounding. As Dr. West explains, white applicants received more call backs and job offers than Black and Hispanic applicants. Dr. West also presents variations on these research studies, but sadly the results end up being the same. These research studies present convincing evidence of the continued presence (and influence) of racism in society, and they also help to dismantle the kinds of spurious arguments that racism deniers make.

I really appreciated the organization of the book as well. Dr. West tackles the question of whether racism is “real” or not, and presents convincing research to document its reality and its impact on minorities. He also helps to define several terms that are often used loosely in public that possibly add to further confusion and misunderstandings about racism. Again, I felt like this is an area where Dr. West’s expertise and experience as a teacher helped inform his writing, presenting key definitions and exploring differences and complexities related to issues like systemic racism, unconscious bias, and conscious biases that are often exhibited by people. While we all have our biases, Dr. West’s definitions help to explain not only the differences among these various biases, but also how factors in society and our experiences ultimately shape these biases. Furthermore, Dr. West explores several other variations on the CV studies, but that were shocking to read the results. In one instance, white and Hispanic applicants were called back under false pretenses that led to a further interview, while a Black applicant was sent home, informed that there were no interviews that day. And while Dr. West repeatedly stresses that “anecdote is not data” and that “anecdotes, no matter how shocking, or captivating, or terrible, can scientifically prove that people of color are treated worse than White people”, his deep dive into the research literature of racism and discrimination provides the kind of “data… we’d need to make statements about the prevalence of racism.” Unfortunately, too often people seem to pay more attention to the kind of emotional appeals and the personal connections that they establish with the anecdotal examples, ignoring the science and data that are more representative of the pervasiveness of racism and discrimination in our reality. This idea about the kind of emotional anecdotes also appears in the next section, which examines the complexities of racism. In particular, I was both appalled and intrigued to learn more about how reverse racism is used more and more to prevent the kinds of changes that are needed to address systemic racism in various areas. Look around today and we can clearly see these bad faith charges of “reverse racism” happening to unwind and dismantle protections that have been hard fought and won over the past 60 years. We can also see how quickly people of color are criticized and “canceled” when they speak out or make a comment about race. Dr. West uses some specific examples (Sarah Jeong, Adjoa Andoh), but then presents research data to show how frequently white people are rated as a preferred racial group. I won’t go into the results, but it was somewhat shocking to read that these results mirror the Doll Test (mentioned later) that Dr. Kenneth Clark conducted in the 1950s, which was used to overturn school segregation in the Brown decision. Despite all of the progress and some people declaring racism is no longer in existence, it seems like the data prove otherwise.

The last section was also powerful to read, for many different reasons. I currently serve on a DEI committee at work, and I’ve always tried to ensure that the content we present to students is representative of the various experiences and backgrounds that our students may come from. In education, I know that this is important for various reasons, chief among them engagement and understanding. That is, by finding what is familiar and representative of students’ experiences, it makes learning easier or at least easier for students to connect with and engage with. When there is cultural incongruity, students are more likely to disengage or misunderstand the information. Furthermore, this is not difficult work, especially if you have knowledge or a background in the area. It’s also a reason why there is a greater need for diversity in the workforce--- having people from a variety of backgrounds and experiences helps inform and contribute to the kind of products we create, and also makes those products more representative and appealing to the diversity of America. Dr. West acknowledges the importance of diversity, but also identifies some of the weaknesses in implementing change in diversity across the workforce and education. In particular, he looks at the limited impact that many diversity training programs have on people. I hadn’t thought much about this, but I understand his point. First, these programs seek to change attitudes, and not behaviors that might influence attitudes. Furthermore, they kind of take a negative approach by focusing on what we shouldn’t do, rather than advocating the best approaches. While this might not be true of all programs, Dr. West identifies some great possibilities for effectively revising diversity training programs to have more of an impact. He presents some actionable steps people can take, including having more intergroup contact, education, and modifying our media. I loved these approaches, and I’ve always felt that these were important steps to take. When I was teaching, I was often the only white person in the room, and I recognized that my experiences were much different from my students. It enabled me to learn to listen more and allow students to share their experiences and backgrounds with one another. Furthermore, it also helped my students in that many times, one of them could put ideas and concepts into more understandable terms. They could break it down to their peers better than I could. Furthermore, increasing intergroup contact also allows us to be more understanding and empathetic of other groups’ experiences with racism and possibly recognize our own behaviors that might be construed as racist (or sexist, ableist, ageist, etc). In addition, I’ve always found it important to modify media. Dr. West talks about the kinds of representation in texts, starting from an early age. Chapter 12 mentions some children’s books that kids can read, and Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats was on there. That book, along with Corduroy were some of the books that I made sure my kids read when they were young. It’s not something I intentionally though about since these are award winning books, but I now realize how important it is to provide my kids with diverse reading experiences that show a variety of characters. I also started to think about this when I noticed that most of the books we were reading showed opposite sex parents, and this didn’t necessarily represent some of the families that our friends and family members had. Although Dr. West doesn’t address these kind of -isms directly, I think that this book helps to also open up discussions about other forms of discrimination and lack of representation that happens in society. Dr. West does acknowledge that these other kinds of -isms are happening in society, and that to incorporate them would probably require more books; however, I really appreciated that this book provided some ways to open discussions and possibly address these issues.

With the terrible and regressive changes that have been happening in the US since the start of the second Trump administration, The Science of Racism is an essential book to read. Even if we didn’t have all of these changes, I still would recommend this book since racism has not diminished or gone away, and that working to keep biases and discrimination in check is more than just activism. It requires a dedication to education, increasing intergroup contact by broadening our experiences with others and those who are different, and changing our media diet to incorporate more diverse experiences. I’ve always been one to appreciate and seek out differences, but I know that others might like to maintain homogeneity. Keeping the status quo has potentially dangerous implications, and finding ways to appreciate if not engage with more diversity is necessary. I’ll end with this excellent quote from Stokely Carmichael that Dr. West used to show how racism isn’t necessarily about attitudes, but about power. “If a White man wants to lynch me, that’s his problem. If he’s got the power to lynch me, that’s my problem. Racism is not a question of attitude, it’s a question of power.” I got shudders reading this quote since many protections in various areas, work, education, civil rights, have been eroding and disappearing, which shows the kind of power inequality that makes racism so pernicious. I also think that this quote and Dr. West’s research and analysis helps to challenge our perceptions about race and racism, bringing me, at least, a further understanding of how racism continues to persist and impact people. This such an important book for people to read today. The only recommendation for change I would make to Dr. West is to incorporate more graphics—whether these are charts, graphs, or other kinds of infographics, to help visualize the data from studies better. I found myself going over the study results a few times just to better understand the numbers and results, as well as the conclusions drawn about the results. I think that with visualizing some of these results and presenting the data in a visual form, it might help readers better understand the results and implications of these studies. Nevertheless, this was an incredibly powerful and important book to read. 

Reflections on Blue: Imani Perry's Black in Blues: How a Color Tells the Story of My People

 Black in Blues: How Color Tells the Story of My People by Imani Perry

Black in Blues book cover

Author Imani Perry at The Anthology of Rap CC BY NC-2.0 by 92YTribeca

Thelonious Monk, at the piano. He is briefly featured in one chapter

“Wonder is a near universal response to deep rivers and vast oceans. But for some, the water also evokes terror. In it, I see God and slave ships both.”

A big thank you to Ecco Publishers, Harper Collins, and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Imani Perry’s new book Black in Blues: How a Color Tells the Story of My People. Perry’s book explores the color and significance of blue from multiple perspectives, examining its tranquility, as well as its violence, its beauty as well as its decadence. Although to say that this book simply examines different shades of blue is a severe underrepresentation, the book considers how blue is interwoven into the lives of Africans and African Americans throughout different cultures and historical eras. To do this, Perry examines different shades of blue in many different contexts and themes. Several books I’ve recently read have been touching on some of these same recurring themes, and Perry’s book was one of the more inventive that aligned with these. For one, Toni Morrison features prominently in these books, and I really loved how Perry framed part of her inquiry into the color blue by discussing Baby Suggs from Beloved. She refers to Baby Suggs’s desire to take some time and think about colors, noting how Blue “never hurt no body,” yet Perry notes “but it surely did. The word even denotes ‘hurt.’ ‘Blue’ has been a word for melancholy in English for centuries.” Perry’s book looks at all of the different ways that blue has played a role in African American life, examining different areas including art, clothing, jewelry, music, and literature. One of the other themes was books written by interdisciplinary artists—those whose work encompasses different areas, yet finds commonalities and intersections among different fields. Perry’s work was so interesting because the focus on blue would seem so limited, but she expands the topic by exploring history, literature, art, and culture. And while the focus is primarily on African American history, Perry traces preferences to blue and its various shades all over the diaspora, traveling to Liberia, the Kongo, Haiti, and other regions where people were enslaved.

Perry spends time discussing the different shades of blue, and I didn’t realize how indigo was made, nor how precious it was in earlier times. Finding the stories about how these shades were developed and used for clothing was fascinating, yet also sad to see how labor and processes were often exploited to generate wealth that was never shared. She also discusses the idea of Blue Black, and revisiting Curtis Mayfield’s famous proclamation of “We the People Who Are Darker Than Blue,” and its significance in culture and history. I think that my favorite parts of the book were those that dealt with literature and music. One chapter focuses on Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God, one of my all-time favorite books, and how the use of Blue features in Hurston’s work. She also discusses the dancer Katherine Dunham, who studied traditional dancing in Haiti around the same time Hurston was there for ethnography for Tell My Horse. It was interesting to see the parallels and differences between these two artists, who were navigating different social and class circles due to the nature of their work and possibly their skin tones as well. Hurston appears in other chapters that focused on Hoodoo and root work, which are often related to the Blues. I was amazed at Perry’s ability to draw all of these topics and artists together under the rubric of blue. It was fascinating to see her analysis and understanding of how blue impacted lives and cultures in different ways. Another section focused on Richard Wright and Ralph Ellison, looking at their works and how blue features in them. For the chapter about Richard Wright, it focused on Mississippi Blues, and Perry brought up a great quote that I wasn’t really familiar with “The most astonishing aspect of the blues is that, though replete with a sense of defeat and down-heartedness, they are not intrinsically pessimistic: their burden of woe and melancholy is dialectically redeemed through the sheer force of sensuality….” It was interesting because I didn’t remember Wright as being kind of musical in his writing, but I can see this kind of resiliency in Black Boy. The following chapter focuses on Ellison’s Invisible Man, another book that I used to teach and was always a favorite. There are so many interesting characters, many of whom are musical, and Perry focuses on the character with the blueprints, who asks the narrator if he’s “got the dog”. I always thought this was such an interesting part, where the chiasmus elicits a kind of reflective questioning—about whether the dog has us, or if we have the dog. Perry then goes on to link this section focusing on the idea of blueprints to Thelonious Monk and his composition of the song “In Walked Bud.” It was so cool how Perry brought these ideas together—blueprints as a map of intention, and as Ellison notes, the need to always improvise and adapt to the situation, which is what Monk experienced in his composition, based on a Berlin tune, that he adapted to a situation with police brutality. You have to read these connections. Other chapters focused on both DuBois and Booker T Washington’s Tuskegee Institute. One of my favorite chapters was focused on George Washington Carver, who studied and did research at Tuskegee. I didn’t realize that he was a painter who used peanuts to create colors, especially blues. Again, just fascinating scholarship and analysis to bring all of these different aspects of African American history, culture, and art into the various shades of blue. I’m looking forward to re-reading different sections, and I think that this would be a great book to either supplement some of the main texts discussed in it (Morrison, Ellison, Wright), or to use as a springboard for further discussion on topics related to race, identity, culture, and art. This is a remarkable book, filled with accessible complexities and considerations, yet solely focused on blue. Truly an amazing book, and I can’t wait to read more of Imani Perry’s work.