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522 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
[A]s much as she would do to protect the new life inside her, their making had nothing to do with how careful she was allowed to be.Judging by the fallout, this work spent too much time on my shelves, but then again, I don't think I would've put up with the level of the quality and structural integrity of the writing even back when I first acquired the book, or even when I first digitally added it to my shelves. I've read critiques of the handling of swinging back and forth between fiction and non, and I have to agree that the composition, however well intentioned, merited a more thorough editing, even on the level of fixing dangling pronouns and properly punctuating clauses. The story is fascinating when one takes into account the context, but considering the amount of money and time and ideals that went into this piece and the fame that resulted, it should have stood well on its own, rather than as a patchwork monotone structure whose contextual story of gumption merits the reading more than the reading actually sustains itself. It is laudatory to rescue one's history from a land which has spent so much time denying said history ever occurred, but the hype this work has receives does a disservice to the rest of the books of the genre, of which this is likely the most well known representation. There are no A's for effort in literature; just a violently enforced imbalance of demographics.
What am I to do with a white man's heart?...I want his head, his mind.It does well for my reading if I have something to fall back upon when my energy is low and my mood is not in for any of my more intense works, but it doesn't bode well for the appraisal of the fall back work itself. For all that this work is 500 pages, it is either less densely packed in typography or more familiar in historical context than the other works I had on hand, so it was a breather in more ways than one. However, the number of mistakes made in grammar, as well as the too blurred consistency between dialogue and description made for a disappointingly crafted piece, especially when taking into consideration that the two more arduous works I had on hand were both translation and thus, theoretically at any rate, should've been more prone to such mistakes. In addition, the history the story covers was not too me, and while following the family tree and related historical records added a measure of intrigue, I didn't come away with feeling of having gained anything. Again, I may have learned more had I read the work when i first acquired it, but this is no children's book, and a few choice quotes can't justify how poorly the fiction elements were handled. I didn't expect the level of Memoirs of Hadrian, but reading historical fiction shouldn't feel like trawling through poorly disguised plagiarism.
They can make me marry, but they can't make me live.This is the second to last work that I have leftover from Black History Month 2018, the penultimate being Queen Margot. I'm rather disappointed, to say the least, more so because I know for a fact that many will treat this work as their one and only knowledge bank with regards to US-centric slavery and freedom in blackness, seeing as how it's both technically fiction and non and on an acceptable respectability politics platform. To be perfectly honest, Tademy's doing some interesting things in her later books than she is here, but the lack of editing that went into this work is off-putting, and doesn't bode well for the future of her prose. It's admirable to look at the sections of history that are the most commonly passed over, but I hope Tademy's grasp on historical fiction has improved over time, no amount of The More You Know justifies choosing poor fictioning over less easily fudgeable nonfictioning.
Generations had been sacrificed for his look.