I don’t
suppose anyone needs me to tell them that this, Maya Angelou’s coming-of-age
autobiography, is an exquisite book.
It’s gorgeously written, unflinchingly honest (I think that’s what
boggles my mind most about the idea of writing about one’s own life – that
nerve it takes to allow oneself to be so
naked,) and at time sharply painful to read. I couldn’t tell you why I never read it
before now, but I also don’t think I’ve ever been in a better place in my life
to recognize it for the masterpiece it is (some spoilers.)
The
book paints Angelou’s life between the ages of three and seventeen, following
young Maya from her early childhood in Arkansas to the North and West and back
again. The everpresent ugliness of
racism permeates her experiences, as do the struggles of this young girl to
discover who she is being forged to become in the crucible of extreme, cruel
circumstances. By degrees, she starts to
understand what the world is, the place that people tell her she has in it, and
the place she tries to carve out for herself.
Different
elements are at play here, all employed tremendously well. There’s stranger-than-fiction slices of life,
like the story of a particularly charismatic worshipper whaling on the preacher
in the middle of his sermon. There’s
beautiful character work, like the exploration of Maya’s brother Bailey and how
deeply affected he is by the existence of their “Mother Dear.” There are searing, horrendous passages, like
the description of Maya’s rape as an 8-year-old. There are intellectual ruminations, social
commentary, poetic beauty, heartbreaking truths, and fierce individualism. It’s at once a story containing fathoms and
the story of one specific child.
I
particularly love the deft exploration of race, including the influence of
colorism and the intersectionality of being both Black and a girl. Angelou covers the terrifying (Momma
embodying the caregiver of every Black boy who’s ever had to agonize over his
safety in an unkind world when he doesn’t come home at night,) the dehumanizing
(the white dentist telling Momma there’s no way he’ll put his hands in Maya’s
mouth,) the unifying (everyone crowded into the store to listen to a Joe Louis
fight on the radio, needing him to win as a reflection of their own legitimacy
as a people,) and the soul-crushing (the speaker at Maya’s graduation talking about
the top-of-the-line equipment and new teachers brought in to improve the white
school, while the Black school is getting money devoted only to its athletic
facilities.) In both large and small
moments, threats of violence and microagressions alike, American race relations
work their way into Maya’s life, and it is in that tempest of hatred, fear, and
ignorance that she must come of age.
Just
superb. There’s nothing more for me to
say, except that I feel fortunate to have read it.
Warnings
Sexual
content (including abuse of a child,) violence, language (including racial
slurs,) drinking, and strong thematic elements.
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