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There's the deliberate cruelty of the psychopath; the temporary kind we all inflict (and immediately regret) in our lesser moments; here Alice Walker wallops us with a third kind, the heartbreaking everyday cruelty that is barely even noticed. Matter-of-fact, taken in stride, Cruelty begotten from earlier cruelty; not necessarily intentional, just, shrug, that's how it is. Invisible in its ubiquity. David Foster Wallace's water.
These are hard-hitting stories. Each is strikingly different from the last; each is enough for one night's reading. You may not be able to speed through this book. Walker's voice is powerful: objective but not cold nor dispassionate. Loving, actually: deeply loving but in no way lovey-dovey.
You may be tempted to abandon it partway. Don't. I prefer not to say any more, just, if you value my judgment, accept my recommendation and keep going.