Literary Fiction by People of Color discussion

jo wrote: "hi michael. i can't find the bit where rebecca expresses upset over brenda's endangering of her health."

Sorry, jo, I see my lead-in backfired by making it appear my ideas came from Rebecca. I was just using Rebecca's focus on Brenda as a starting point, and then pulled in the two competing ideas that seemed to be expressed in the book (i.e. "i'm doing everything i can" vs. "something is wrong with her").

Which seems to have started a lively discussion... Great comments, everyone! Even though this character is being described so specifically, it seems Ms. Yejide's ability to draw such a realistic picture allows us to connect to a generalized truth here, about single motherhood, the fall from middle class, and the extra burdens placed on women's shoulders. (Um, which is I think what you all just said!)

It's ironic and heartbreaking that the society around her chooses to isolate her even more because of her choice of survival tactic - i.e. getting larger. But that also seems to be a universal truth: the more hardship you experience, the less approval you get (as Sarah said, the more you are blamed for "poor choices") and therefore, less help.

The "fall from middle class" felt poignant to me moreso because Brenda is not making easy choices here. She chose to keep her baby after losing her husband. She chose to raise Sephiri and not abandon him when it was clear he was going to need an advanced level of care, and she chooses every day to treat him in a loving manner, despite the household disasters (which make the "disasters" at my own house seem laughable in comparison), and never seeing him smile, and never knowing if he is even aware of her love for him. I keep feeling she deserves a break, but maybe that is obvious...

Wilhelmina wrote: "The only help she seems to get, reluctantly, is from her brother-in-law Manden who certainly has his own issues. jo mentioned Brenda's poverty, which is especially painful because she tried so hard..."

I agree that the story was even more heart-breaking because she did everything that would lead to a "normal" life and it is just out-of-her-hands now. Her new dream is just to see her son smile.

jo wrote: "Beverly wrote: "I am a believer that it takes a village to raise a child and Brenda Thompson has no one to help. She is so isolated by society who does not want to be bothered by her. I read how sh..."

I certainly understand that we as a society and as individuals are uncomfortable with situations that do not meet our standards.

But I guess what I meant to say was more about our society that we do not necessarily look at the situation as a whole. Brenda's doctor cautions her about her health issues but there does not seem to be much connection what is going on in her life. While Center takes care of Sephiri in the daytime but has not idea what his life is outside of the Center and how his main (or should I say his only) caretaker is his mother and how she is managing.

Of course there are indications that Brenda is very closed mouth and does not necessarily complain. Since she has accomplished all she done by her own strength and wits, she takes on the challenges of raising Sephiri with the same can-do attitude.

That Brenda was still able to hold on to her job - and I believed she wanted to because those were her values but it was also a connection to a "normal" and it was the one place where she was Brenda not Sephiri's mother.

Sarah wrote: "And it's what the 1% would blame Brenda for "making poor choices."

brilliant. the 1% and those whom the 1% have brainwashed.

I appreciate those who have talked about the isolation.I think our society has much to learn about how we can help and friendship those like Brenda who struggle with children with disabilities. I dont understand why people tend to shy away from helping or supporting people and children who have disabilities.

Michael It didn't backfire. I read your comment as intended.

I was hoping for Brenda to lead off our discussion I was super excited about the construction of her character and the brilliance of Ms. Yejide's ability to expose so much through her.

I have a question for you Jeremy as a parent with a son with Autism. Have you felt any isolation? If you dont mind commenting?

jo wrote: "Sarah wrote: "And it's what the 1% would blame Brenda for "making poor choices."

brilliant. the 1% and those whom the 1% have brainwashed."

The 1% is just the vocal group and there are many more that agree with them but are just not vocal and thus their following.

But I also think that in Part One we see the concept of unconscious racism/discrimination at work. Brenda is aware that she will be perceived differently if her BIL shows up for the school meetings. Even though he does not say a word. The Center is aware of this and is very careful in how they address the two of them. Brenda knows the BIL is a "symbol" to be used as there is no conduct or communication outside of his appearances at the Center and his monthly checks.

I'd like to pose two more questions about Brenda's isolation before moving to a different topic. I looked over Part One to see that I highlighted two different passages:

10% (p22 on my Nook) - (At Sunday church meetings) "Each woman’s misery sloshed and overflowed and spilled out over the ruined mess of the others, commingling in grief, in wretchedness. She didn’t want to see all of that every week."

29% (p65 on my Nook) - (Re: increased observation of Sephiri) "This could be the chance to connect with him, to get him what he needed. Maybe then she would have a chance to tell him that he was precious to her in spite of everything, that he had been conceived in love after all. In saving him, perhaps she could find a way to save herself."

In the first passage, Brenda seems to choose to isolate herself from an available support system through her church. Is this a mistake, or is she making a practical choice?

In the second passage, Brenda sees possible salvation in helping her son. Women are often taught to find salvation in others, and ignore their own needs. Is this an example of that? Is there another choice for her? I.e. is there any path where she could not be the martyr here?

Michael wrote: "10% (p22 on my Nook) - (At Sunday church meetings) "Each woman’s misery sloshed and overflowed and spilled out over the ruined mess of the others, commingling in grief, in wretchedness. She didn’t want to see all of that every week.".."

Unfortunately, this church doesn't seem to be a place where Brenda could find support.This church seems to be filled with people barely able to help themselves, much less each other. We don't hear that they were reaching out to help her in any way, just as she was unable to be of help to anyone else because of the load she was carrying.

In addition, although it shouldn't be so, church people are as judgmental as anyone else. She would know that they would talk about her - the woman with the autistic son and the husband who committed murder. Some people would have probably linked the two - sins of the father visited upon the son - and that would be the last thing that she would need to hear.

Michael wrote: "In the second passage, Brenda sees possible salvation in helping her son. Women are often taught to find salvation in others, and ignore their own needs. Is this an example of that? Is there another choice for her? I.e. is there any path where she could not be the martyr here? .."

I don't think that she's ignoring her needs. She goes to the doctor as often as she can manage it, for example. I just don't think that she has enough left over after dealing with Sephiri to manage anything else. I don't see her as a martyr at all. I just see her as a mother who is doing whatever she can for her child against horrific odds and still holding on to the tiniest hope that, in some way, she'll be able to reach him in his isolation.

I finished the book and for the first time, before I give it a rating I'm going to read all the postings here before I make up my mind. I want to take on other viewpoints. All who've read it must have noticed that there is very little dialogue in the book. For me this means that I don't really get a chance, through dialogue, to get into a characters head to hear in their own words their motivations, feelings, and mental inner workings.
The author has a higher hurdle than most in that I have to be transported solely by her descriptions, characterizations and exposition. I have to enter the worlds of Sephiri and Horus based solely on how the author has described them. I have to believe in these worlds in order for the novel to work. It would have been nice to have some dialogue between Horus and Brenda, Brenda and co-workers or fellow churchgoers, etc. Of course no dialogue from Sephiri is kinda the point.
On the other hand, as a long time resident of DC and its metro area, and as a retiree from the U.S. Dept. of Agriculture, I can say that Yejide's ability to draw realistic and true pictures of the city and that gov't agency (it really does have a mile long corridor!) revealed a real insiders knowledge of her subject.

I think that little dialogue for everyone is one of the points of the book! Everyone is trapped in one kind of silence or another. I agree - you have to buy into the interior worlds of the characters for the book to work. And I agree that she portrays DC beautifully.

Wilhelmina wrote: "Michael wrote: "10% (p22 on my Nook) - (At Sunday church meetings) "Each woman’s misery sloshed and overflowed and spilled out over the ruined mess of the others, commingling in grief, in wretchedn..."

I agree.
That one sentence said it all.

Wilhelmina wrote: "I think that little dialogue for everyone is one of the points of the book! Everyone is trapped in one kind of silence or another. I agree - you have to buy into the interior worlds of the characte..."

That was one of questions to ask the author.
My thoughts were that the no dialogue helped to convey the sense of isolation, and helped with the theme of imprisonment. Brenda only speaks when it necessarily and then it is terse answers. Her thoughts are never spoken out loud. She can her food order when going through the drive-through. Very little discussion with the doctors. No one calls her on the phone to say hi. Her co-workers understand why she is late or absent and try to cover for her but there is no chit-chat around the water cooler. The person she "communicates" with the most is Sephiri. Manden also does not speak unless it is necessary. He never picks up the phone to call either and does not speak at the doctors.

I too thought the author did DC/MD area well.

Wilhelmina wrote: "Michael wrote: "In the second passage, Brenda sees possible salvation in helping her son. Women are often taught to find salvation in others, and ignore their own needs. Is this an example of that?..."

Well said Wilhelmina.
While there were a lot of heartbreaking moments for me in this book - the one that keeps haunting me is that Brenda ever gets to sleep and those snatches of sleep she gets are not restful as she has one ear/eye open to keep track what Sephiri is doing.

And I also did not think she saw herself as a martyr. She understood her situation and did what was necessary.

Beverly wrote: "Wilhelmina wrote: "Michael wrote: "In the second passage, Brenda sees possible salvation in helping her son. Women are often taught to find salvation in others, and ignore their own needs. Is this ..."

I thought that Brenda was an AMAZINGLY patient mother. I wanted to throw up my hands just READING what she had to deal with at night. Or in the morning. Or at bath time. Or at meal time.

Great comments everyone! I agree Brenda is an amazing mother; I guess I keep looking for something to offset all the sadness and frustration in her life. It is hard for me to figure out from the descriptions if she has any joy in her life or not.

William, that is a great observation about the lack of dialogue. It helps me put my finger on some of my feelings about reading this. I do feel isolated with all of these voices just in my head! Hopefully our discussion will help you resolve your feelings about the book...

Okay, let’s talk about Sephiri for a bit. What do you think of the chapters from Sephiri’s point of view? Does Ms. Yejide do a good job of putting us in Sephiri’s world?

What about the contrast with Brenda’s perspective? Does seeing the same events from two different perspectives help you understand the communication divide between them? Is either perspective more "accurate" than the other?

I am reading a lot of commentary on the mothers management of her autistic son, feel perhaps some clarification is helpful to see how a parent of a special needs child perceives the situation. Her plight seems to me to be more about her husbands departure than her sons disability.

Do parents of autistic children feel isolation? Yes, to some degree. Social gatherings are always a challenge as you can see examples of in this book. Going out to restaurants, shopping, church, family gatherings, are all instances where the parent is mostly unable to participate fully in because the majority of the time is spent attending to the child's needs/behavior.

In the end though, I don't believe she is trying to reach him/save him/cure him in a traditional way. All parents in her situation may question why he doesn't smile or show emotion privately, but she also understands he is not going to do these things like normally developed children - he will show her in his own way. Perhaps he is learning to communicate, through his artwork, and the mother will see that in the end? (I haven't finished the book, only up to where the therapists inform her of his talents).

Jeremy wrote: "I am reading a lot of commentary on the mothers management of her autistic son, feel perhaps some clarification is helpful to see how a parent of a special needs child perceives the situation. Her ..."

Thanks, Jeremy. That combination of Sephiri's special needs and losing her husband, not to actual death but to a living death, is a nightmare combination. Had she been a widow, I'm sure that she would have felt less isolated.

Michael asked about Sephiri's world. I thought that Yejide did a beautiful job of world-building here that reminded me of the kind of world-building done in fantasy books. Sephiri's world is so complex and original, but is totally inaccessible to the outside world, except for his artwork. The contrast between what Sephiri experiences and what his mother perceives from the outside is stunning. Of course, buying into the possibility of a rich interior life for Sephiri is the key for buying into the story.

I am actually not bothered by the "lack of dialogue" I thought the way the author wrote/built the scenes and the "dialogue" within their heads told the story well and along with their actions told the truth to me.

If there was dialogue - who would it be between and more importantly how would we know it was "truthful" dialogue.

Beverly wrote: "I am actually not bothered by the "lack of dialogue" I thought the way the author wrote/built the scenes and the "dialogue" within their heads told the story well and along with their actions told ..."

I agree.

Beverly wrote: "If there was dialogue - who would it be between and more importantly how would we know it was "truthful" dialogue. "

I love this thought, Beverly. The characters in this book are so adept at denial and suppressing intimate connections that any conversation would necessarily be a lie, a misdirection from what they are really feeling. Spending time in this world definitely has me aching for human connections. It is wearying!

Wilhelmina wrote: "I thought that Yejide did a beautiful job of world-building here that reminded me of the kind of world-building done in fantasy books."

Good observation, Wilhelmina. This is my favorite kind of fantasy, based on the real world, but with a twist. Talking dolphins, wise Octupi, I love it!

My plan is to move on to Part Two tomorrow, with discussions of the remaining central characters, and diving into the main themes. (Assuming everyone is ready.)

Meanwhile, I have a follow-up question on Sephiri. I highlighted two passages from Part One:

25% (Nook p.57) "And because the mysterious wall behind which the boy lived was soundproof, the reasons for his father’s absence would never have to be explained to him, and he would never pierce the barrier to ask why his father was not there, why he was in a cage beneath the mountains."

19% (Nook p.43) "There were the suggestions to remove all stimulants from the living space. But... He screamed and shrieked about things she couldn’t see or perceive, and he stared at minutiae for hours on end. How could all the stimulants be removed? How could life be removed?"

The first passage is from Manden's thoughts, and seems to imply that Sephiri is lucky that he isn't aware of the loss in his life, not able to pose painful questions.

The second passage is from Brenda's thoughts, and seems to acknowledge that when you remove all stimulants, nothing is left.

Questions: Is it better to remove all stimulants in order to survive, losing the good with the bad? Or is it better to experience the full range of life's forces, even if it destroys you/becomes unbearable?

From what we know of them in Part One, what do you think would be Brenda's answer to this question? Sephiri's answer? (I was saving Manden for Part Two, but feel free to answer for him as well if you'd like...)

Part II wasn't my favorite. I can see the Stephen King/Charles Dickenson influence with it.

I think that Brenda was saying that it impossible to remove all stimulants because absolutely anything could be a stimulant for Sephiri. If he screams at things that Brenda can't even see, what can she do?

Wilhelmina wrote: "I think that Brenda was saying that it impossible to remove all stimulants because absolutely anything could be a stimulant for Sephiri. If he screams at things that Brenda can't even see, what can..."

i see it this way too. the bath scenes are excellent examples, because clearly sephiri wants to stay in the bath, but, you know, at some point he's going to have to come out. and how does his mother know that he's still, say, swimming towards the obsidians just when she decides to soap him up, rinse him, and get him out of the bath?

on the other hand, sephiri is deeply connected to his mother, it seems to me. after exhausting body battles, he loves to rest in her arms. those two are doing the level best they can.

Good point jo. Even though these children are supposed to not be able to enjoy physical contact. Sephiri allows it from his mother.

I found this interesting too.

August 4, 2014- "The Myths Surrounding Autism - Empathy"- Individuals on the autism spectrum are often stereotyped as being unable to convey empathy. Due to a complete lack of understanding, neurotypical individuals often confuse a blunt answer or failure to express joy when something good happens as a sign that they don’t feel emotions. In reality, an individual’s autism can cloud people’s emotions, causing it to be difficult for them to understand their emotions. This article argues that any individual who spends some time with a person with autism will soon realize they can, and do feel and show emotion. National Autism Network

i don't know if anyone is interested in talking about the book's language. at first i found it hard to read. it's really dense, full of adjectives, kind of ornate. i found it difficult to read and this difficulty remained throughout. for me, it's language that almost pushes away the mind, the eye. it's not welcoming language. you want to wander off.

but later it grew on me a lot, and i got to appreciate it deeply, even though i still felt a tendency to wander off (it took me a long while, relatively speaking, to finish the book). some authors forge their own language, and i think this is what yejide does here: she creates her own language. it's a very rich, very dense language. sometimes it doesn't make sense except if a sort of fantastic, intuitive way. but one always has to penetrate the dense sentences, the thick words.

i wonder if i am the only one to feel this way.

Wilhelmina wrote: "I think that Brenda was saying that it impossible to remove all stimulants because absolutely anything could be a stimulant for Sephiri. If he screams at things that Brenda can't even see, what can she do?"

That's a fair point, perhaps I was trying to be too clever here. I will come back to this question when I have a better example and can tie it into more of the characters in the book.

jo wrote: "i don't know if anyone is interested in talking about the book's language. at first i found it hard to read. it's really dense, full of adjectives, kind of ornate. i found it difficult to read and ..."

I'm not sure I had exactly the same reaction, jo, but I do remember thinking the language was harder for me, mainly because it didn't seem as poetic as some of the books I've enjoyed reading in our group. Also, the metaphors/similes seemed a bit heavy-handed or something, at times.

But overall the writing seemed to fit the philosophical nature of this book, for me at least. All of the internal monologues and justifications seemed more potent and universal because the language seemed so "serious", for want of a better word.

jo wrote: "i don't know if anyone is interested in talking about the book's language. at first i found it hard to read. it's really dense, full of adjectives, kind of ornate. i found it difficult to read and ..."

It certainly isn't an easy read, but I thought that the language conveyed the gravitas, for lack of a better word, of the story.

jo wrote: "i don't know if anyone is interested in talking about the book's language. at first i found it hard to read. it's really dense, full of adjectives, kind of ornate. i found it difficult to read and ..."

I didn't feel the density until Part 2, where I felt like I was slogging through mud.

Some of my favorite quotes from Part One...

"Brenda tensed when she heard that springtime bounce in the young doctor’s voice, so full of things that were nearly weightless, light and airy problems like what color to have her study painted and whether to plant tulips when a thaw breaks."

"... the loudness of his absence filled her ears, and she could hear nothing else."

"He was now buried beneath the barren, rocky soil of the Black Plains Correctional Institute, to asphyxiate slowly on what he had done, to starve from what he had left undone."

"Or the times he wanted to feel physics by tossing ceramic plates across the room."

"Amphibians were ambiguous, Sephiri thought, shaking his head. Traitorous. Whose side were they on, anyway?"

"Sephiri wondered if Air people knew about the dark and if they hid in it too."

spoilers for Part Two allowed from this point forward!

Sarah wrote: "I didn't feel the density until Part 2, where I felt like I was slogging through mud. "

:) Yes, I thought Part Two was a bit... hard. In Part Two of Time of the Locust, we meet the Black Plains Correctional Institute and a disturbing cast of characters. After delving into much of Horus' past, it concludes with Horus completing a long journey through a mysterious place called the Catacombs.

Right away we get introduced to Warden Andrew Stotsky, and then later on the prison guard Jimmy Eckert ("Bean Hole Man"). As they make their rounds, we learn a lot (maybe too much) about their histories and backgrounds. Does knowing their roots make them more human, or more monstrous? What did you think of their place in the book: was it too disturbing, or did it seem to set the necessary atmosphere for Horus’ imprisonment?

Michael wrote: "My plan is to move on to Part Two tomorrow, with discussions of the remaining central characters, and diving into the main themes. (Assuming everyone is ready.)

Meanwhile, I have a follow-up ques..."

There is so much about how the mind works that we do not know. We are learning more each day but still so much more to understand.

But an overall statement is that too much stimuli is not good nor is the absence of stimuli a good thing.

Both too much stimuli and lack of stimuli is used in torture and other similar hideous situations.

But then what is too much stimuli and the lack of stimuli can vary from by the person.

So in the meantime - general statements are made regarding regarding conditions, such as autism, which get modified as we learn more.

jo wrote: "i don't know if anyone is interested in talking about the book's language. at first i found it hard to read. it's really dense, full of adjectives, kind of ornate. i found it difficult to read and ..."

I did not find it hard to read. I thought the language painted a very clear picture and it was this language that had me emotional attached to the storylines.

It is very dark compelling language.
And as for Part II - that section definitely qualifies as horror.

While the language bonded me to the book - and I anxiously waited to pick the book up when finish working - this was not the last thing I read before sleeping as I did not want the situations to be the last thing on my mind. Just as they say do not go to bed anger - I try not to have disturbing thoughts lingering in my mind before sleeping.

So I had to read some escapist book before falling asleep while reading this book.

Rebecca wrote: "Good point jo. Even though these children are supposed to not be able to enjoy physical contact. Sephiri allows it from his mother.

I found this interesting too.

August 4, 2014- "The Myths Surro..."

I too felt that Sephiri felt,knew, and responded when his mother was around and knew when she was not around.

And speaking of the lack of empathy - how about the prison warden and his lackey. These are people who were able to express their lack of empathy on others in a horrific way.

Beverly wrote: "While the language bonded me to the book - and I anxiously waited to pick the book up when finish working - this was not the last thing I read before sleeping as I did not want the situations to be the last thing on my mind."

That's a telling observation, Beverly. I actually had some trouble picking the book back up a few times in Part Two, but I'm glad I weathered the storm!

Beverly wrote: "And speaking of the lack of empathy - how about the prison warden and his lackey. These are people who were able to express their lack of empathy on others in a horrific way. "

I like how you contrast those behaviors, Rebecca. I think people assume "emotion" = "empathy". It's clear that is not always the case. And emotion abuse is definitely not empathy...

Well, it seems everyone got quiet the last day or so and when moderating a thread I never know if that is the current topic, the randomness of people's lives, or distractions by other world events. But as I watch the news reports from Ferguson, Missouri, I know the death of Michael Brown and the recent violent aftermath and controversy must be on everyone's mind. My heart goes out to those who live or have connections in St. Louis, and everyone else being affected by this horrible episode.

It seems a chilling parallel that the driver of events in Time of the Locust is a racist execution of an unarmed Black man by a white police officer. I'm not sure what to say or not say, and what kind of forum to provide here in our book discussion, but it seems impossible not to tie Ms. Yejide's book to current events. Her book is obviously extremely relevant today, even though she set it in 1966/1986/1993.

Does anyone have comments about the relevancy of Ms. Yejide's book? Do you think Ms. Yejide wrote her book to make a statement about racism in the police/justice/jail systems, or is it just part of the story that she was telling?

i am unable right now to respond to any length, michael, but it seems to me that Time of the Locust is steeped in african american racial history -- this is one of the things i most admired about it -- and lynching is paramount in it. i think Yejidé had a story in mind, and that that story could not be told without bringing in racism against african americans in all its various incarnations. in fact, it's even hard to think she had a story in mind. if i had to imagine what the author had when she set out to write this book (and i have no basis for it other than my imagination, cuz i haven't read or seen any interviews) i would say that she only had an idea, and the rest just came on its own, banging down the door in the urge to be told.

thank you for bringing up this essential connection. these have been really tough days for all of us as a country.

I'll be back to comment more later, but I have absolutely no doubt that this book's historical themes were deliberate. The relevance to this week's occurrences is almost overwhelming.

Wilhelmina wrote: "I'll be back to comment more later, but I have absolutely no doubt that this book's historical themes were deliberate. The relevance to this week's occurrences is almost overwhelming."

word.

okay, here's something i wanted to add. this novel is mis-sold as a novel about an autistic kid. this is not a novel about an autistic kid, and in fact shephiri has as much or less "book" time as/than the other characters. this is a story about how racism (personal, structural) can bring down a family in spite of their trying, and how a strange kid and tough-as-nails (in spite of all the brokenness) adults can hang in there and keep themselves alive when all seems entirely lost. can we talk about trauma? there is enough trauma in this family to last five or six lifetimes. horus and manden are decimated by trauma. i can't remember right now brenda's childhood: did she experience trauma too?

i think that yejidé talks super poignantly about the many tragedies besetting black masculinity, and that is precisely why this book could not be more timely. i've seen a few posts on my fb about black men, and i'm delighted yejidé writes this apparently whimsical story to address this neverending topic.

Yes, life is very busy. Ferguson is the "straw that broke the camel's back" and is exposing all the wounds that have been festering for so long.

Yejide write poignantly about the vicissitudes of life, racism and it's legacy.

So the heartbreaking events in the story become much more than a story when we watch the events of Ferguson unfold before our eyes.

Not necessarily to focus on women but since I am a woman certain events in the book and in Ferguson seemed to be the same side of the coin to me.

Brenda so excited about her pregnancy never gets an opportunity to share this joy with husband. And Mike Brown's mother never got to see her son attend his first day of college. When first hearing about Mike Brown's death what stuck in my mind - is hearing his mother say, do you know how hard I worked to keep him in school and to graduate.
Each woman is united in their grief because of a killing by a white police officer of an unarmed black man.

a powerful comment, beverly.

For tonight's post I have two items:

1) I posted a new discussion thread that will be for our Question & Answer with the author, Morowa Yejide. A link to the Q&A topic is right here. Ms. Yejide will answer the questions as her schedule permits on Sunday, August 24, which should give you plenty of time to post a question about Time of the Locust or Ms. Yejide's writing between now and then. Have fun!

2) Here is some follow-up for our book discussion:

Beverly wrote: "When first hearing about Mike Brown's death what stuck in my mind - is hearing his mother say, do you know how hard I worked to keep him in school and to graduate.
Each woman is united in their grief because of a killing by a white police officer of an unarmed black man. "

This is a powerful connection, Beverly; thank you for posting this.

We certainly see in the book how Horus and Manden's mother lost herself to grief after the execution of Jack Thompson. The sons watched as Maria disconnected from everything and then was literally dragged from their lives by the authorities. And Brenda, although surviving in the wake of her husbands incarceration, has done so just barely despite, or maybe because, the fact of having a child to raise.

When I think of the grief, anger, and feelings of helplessness of these families (both in the book and in our own world), I find myself thinking a lot about Horus, as well. What was it like for him to watch his father die in front of him? What would it be like to feel helpless in the face of that grief, and then have the people you rely on - your mother, your older brother - not able to provide any answers or comfort.

Do you think what Horus did was inevitable? Was there a way he could have experienced his grief and his need for justice in a way that didn't end in violence? What would you have done?

Michael wrote: "When I think of the grief, anger, and feelings of helplessness of these families (both in the book and in our own world), I find myself thinking a lot about Horus, as well. What was it like for him to watch his father die in front of him? What would it be like to feel helpless in the face of that grief, and then have the people you rely on - your mother, your older brother - not able to provide any answers or comfort...."

This is one of the themes that I found very affecting in this book - the price paid by those who stand up against oppression and by the families of those whose lives are taken. There are the obvious cases - Malcolm X's widow dying in a fire set by her own grandson; Martin Luther King's children endlessly squabbling over his estate while MLK's old friends agonize over not being able to instill Martin's values in his children. But there are so many others who paid a price that we will never see. Pearl Cleage wrote a brilliant play - Bourbon at the Border - that I saw a number of years ago about the long-term damage done to a couple who participated in Freedom Summer. (Did anyone else see that play?)

Horus' life crumbled when his father was killed in front of him, his brother, and his mother. The trauma that he experienced could not be held in forever, and seeing the name of the woman who identified his father's killer was the trigger that brought it all back. There was a terrible inevitability to the way that events rolled out after that trigger. Horus' PTSD was in control rather than his logic.

I have tried to comment about the supermax prison in which Horus is incarcerated, but it is so bleak and horrific and evil that I am at a loss for words. Yejide's deft use of magical realism in introducing the Catacombs as a way to escape the horror from which there was no escape saved me in this section.