Sing, Unburied, Sing

In what is most definitely an unpopular opinion, I found “Sing, Unburied, Sing” just not very good. Usually, I really enjoy National Book Award recipients more.

For some time, I have noticed this book in the book club section at my library, where I often go if no other inspiration strikes. Yet (and this is a horrible confession to make), the title kept turning me off because it seemed overly pretentious. A few months ago, one of the members of my Great Books Book Club recommended the Now Read This Book Club, a partnership between NPR and the New York Times. I had already read one of the books and several others looked really interesting, so I thought I'd give the book a chance.

The content (https://www.pbs.org/newshour/features/now-read-this/#sing-unburied-sing) includes a long-form interview, where we travel around the small town in Mississippi where Jesmyn grew up and also discuss her inspirations (from Faulkner to her brother, killed at age 19). In particular, Ms. Ward talks about wanting to write because there were never girls of color among the plucky heroines like Anne of Green Gables or Pippi Longstocking or Harriet the Spy (all major influences on me, as well).

What shined through in this book is Ms. Ward's ability to describe her local world and the people. The first chapter was really well-written; in it, 12-year old Jojo and his grandfather, Pop, kill a goat in preparation for Jojo's birthday meal. I felt like I was right there with these two generations, one stepping into manhood and one teaching the other what it means to be a man. We are also introduced to toddler Kayla (who seemed more like a 2-year-old than a 3-year-old) and Mam, Jojo's dying grandmother. We also first hear about 12-year-old Richie, who was imprisoned at Parchman with Pop about 40 years before the main action of the book. The continuing sections about the prison were particularly affecting and accurate if you've ever known anyone who has been in prison. When Jojo is handcuffed and pushed to the ground during an aggressive traffic stop, the reader feels how horrific it is to be a person of color in today's America, unable to speak up and ask for justice when no wrong has been committed.

What also stuck out to me almost within the second page is the lack of a consistent voice for any character. Jojo occasionally speaks using local dialect, but at other times speaks with perfect grammar. This is true of both Richie and Leonie, the other two narrators. I wish that Ms. Ward had made the focus Jojo and Richie and targeted the book at younger audiences to add a young, strong person of color to the reading palette.

There have been comparisons to Faulkner's “As I Lay Dying,” which is the ultimate dysfunctional family road trip. While we are in Mississippi, I don't really see the parallels. Faulkner captured the voices of local people in a way that Ms. Ward has not yet developed.

It is in the sections narrated by Leonie that I think the book is most unsuccessful; while the sections in which her spiritual and earthy mother speak through Leonie's memories are beautiful, I didn't feel like we got deep enough into Leonie herself. Are we supposed to believe that she's super cool with having a relationship (and, eventually, kids) with the child of the man who deemed her brother's murder a hunting accident? Or, is this choice, like the choice to sink into drugs, the way to escape her inability to be like either of her parents or to get over Given's death? Are we really to believe that Leonie is so overcome by grief and drugs that she has no interest in her vomiting child, but is consumed by attention to Michael? Even before he returned, she was barely around for the kids and it is clear at the end of the book that she is completely gone.

Some of the magical realism totally made sense to me and the ghosts didn't bother me like some other readers. But some of it, like Mam's death scene, was overly dramatic and stupid. As much as I liked the flashbacks of Mam, I found that scene to be forced.

After finishing the book, I'm afraid that my initial turn-off about the title was right; there was a lot of pretension and I found the writing less poetic and more stilted (despite some sections that were very good). I do want to check out her other books because it's clearly Jesmyn Ward is filling a gap in literature and telling the stories of those who we don't hear enough from - I just hope she lets her characters sing.

In what is most definitely an unpopular opinion, I found “Sing, Unburied, Sing” just not very good. Usually, I really enjoy National Book Award recipients more.

For some time, I have noticed this book in the book club section at my library, where I often go if no other inspiration strikes. Yet (and this is a horrible confession to make), the title kept turning me off because it seemed overly pretentious. A few months ago, one of the members of my Great Books Book Club recommended the Now Read This Book Club, a partnership between NPR and the New York Times. I had already read one of the books and several others looked really interesting, so I thought I'd give the book a chance.

The content (https://www.pbs.org/newshour/features/now-read-this/#sing-unburied-sing) includes a long-form interview, where we travel around the small town in Mississippi where Jesmyn grew up and also discuss her inspirations (from Faulkner to her brother, killed at age 19). In particular, Ms. Ward talks about wanting to write because there were never girls of color among the plucky heroines like Anne of Green Gables or Pippi Longstocking or Harriet the Spy (all major influences on me, as well).

What shined through in this book is Ms. Ward's ability to describe her local world and the people. The first chapter was really well-written; in it, 12-year old Jojo and his grandfather, Pop, kill a goat in preparation for Jojo's birthday meal. I felt like I was right there with these two generations, one stepping into manhood and one teaching the other what it means to be a man. We are also introduced to toddler Kayla (who seemed more like a 2-year-old than a 3-year-old) and Mam, Jojo's dying grandmother. We also first hear about 12-year-old Richie, who was imprisoned at Parchman with Pop about 40 years before the main action of the book. The continuing sections about the prison were particularly affecting and accurate if you've ever known anyone who has been in prison. When Jojo is handcuffed and pushed to the ground during an aggressive traffic stop, the reader feels how horrific it is to be a person of color in today's America, unable to speak up and ask for justice when no wrong has been committed.

What also stuck out to me almost within the second page is the lack of a consistent voice for any character. Jojo occasionally speaks using local dialect, but at other times speaks with perfect grammar. This is true of both Richie and Leonie, the other two narrators. I wish that Ms. Ward had made the focus Jojo and Richie and targeted the book at younger audiences to add a young, strong person of color to the reading palette.

There have been comparisons to Faulkner's “As I Lay Dying,” which is the ultimate dysfunctional family road trip. While we are in Mississippi, I don't really see the parallels. Faulkner captured the voices of local people in a way that Ms. Ward has not yet developed.

It is in the sections narrated by Leonie that I think the book is most unsuccessful; while the sections in which her spiritual and earthy mother speak through Leonie's memories are beautiful, I didn't feel like we got deep enough into Leonie herself. Are we supposed to believe that she's super cool with having a relationship (and, eventually, kids) with the child of the man who deemed her brother's murder a hunting accident? Or, is this choice, like the choice to sink into drugs, the way to escape her inability to be like either of her parents or to get over Given's death? Are we really to believe that Leonie is so overcome by grief and drugs that she has no interest in her vomiting child, but is consumed by attention to Michael? Even before he returned, she was barely around for the kids and it is clear at the end of the book that she is completely gone.

Some of the magical realism totally made sense to me and the ghosts didn't bother me like some other readers. But some of it, like Mam's death scene, was overly dramatic and stupid. As much as I liked the flashbacks of Mam, I found that scene to be forced.

After finishing the book, I'm afraid that my initial turn-off about the title was right; there was a lot of pretension and I found the writing less poetic and more stilted (despite some sections that were very good). I do want to check out her other books because it's clearly Jesmyn Ward is filling a gap in literature and telling the stories of those who we don't hear enough from - I just hope she lets her characters sing.