Beloved
A woman [Sethe] is afraid to lose her children to white slave owners. In a mad panic, she kills one of them, traumatising the other three, two of whom eventually leave home, and one stays behind. The day that she kills her child, things change for her, her mother-in-law, her children, for the community. How does one move on from such a scarring event? How does a community respond to an incomprehensibly silencing act?
When I first picked up Beloved by Toni Morrison, I was not sure if I would enjoy it. It came highly recommended and was a birthday present from a friend, who is now deceased. Picking it up triggered the loss nestled in parts of my heart but I picked it up anyway, willing myself to feel some warm connection with my friend. I think that this loss I already felt, heightened how I experienced Sethe’s loss [losses, maybe?]. Nonetheless, after reading the book, I was very appreciative of the writer’s ability to bring characters and events to life. I felt the tree on Sethe’s back, felt the warmth of red on her hands, saw the three figures skating on ice, held my breath along with the slaves who run away from their slave owners, and heard the shattering tables and chairs as Paul D drove out a relentless ghost. I felt Sethe’s tentative hope that she too could be loved, and among other things, the very human way our minds can sometimes slip through the gaps of our control, when we are besotted by regret. In those eternal moments, light and dark look the same.
But why is the book named Beloved? Who is Beloved? I have not mentioned anything about Beloved herself because, honestly, you should read and experience this for yourself. By the time I put this novel down, I wanted to start again, primarily because it read like a true story. It is not.
I highly recommend this book. As with Frank McCourt’s Memoir Angela’s Ashes, some books are meant to be owned, and Beloved by Toni Morrison belongs on every shelf, taken down to be read at least once a year – not just for the story, but more so for the writing. Exceptional.
