Jhumpa Lahiri - The Namesake

Jhumpa's books is interesting in that among other things it explores the way parents name their children. In a way it is unfair that a child is named - any name - without that child deciding which name it thinks is best suitable. More often than not parents name children as one would name inanimate beings based on their own whims.  Whilst reading the book, I wondered whether this whole naming saga needs to be changed and be adapted to what is best. Why should one or two persons - albeit parents - be the ones to decide the best name for a person. Often times children are burdened with names that they find they cannot really bear in later life. Changing that name then becomes a hustle because by the time one is 16 or 18 - the age of consent - one has already used the name of one's identity card, passport, examination documents and a myriad other places that it becomes difficult to alter that identity.  This book is about Gogol, aptly named after Nikolai Gogol - the famous Russian writer.  However they later, for many reasons determine that the name Gogol really does not suit them or that they do not want to have to explain the reasons for the name. Reasons which are really unexplainable. This reminds me of my usual question - what is in a name? If  you name a child "Mandela" would they have to act like Mandela. One might like the names "Judas Osama" but those names carry so much baggage that one would be adviced that they would cause grief to a child so named.

Jhumpa also explores the issues around integration into societies that are faced by many expatriates. Ashoke and Ashima have lived in the USA for most of their adult life but remain strangers. Each time I fill in a form that requires my "permanent" address, I really wonder what it means. Is it possible that one might have no particular abode and that the place they are forced to be their "permanent address" - Calcutta is not really their home as they visit just once every so often and do not even have a house to call their own.  Unfortunately they never really feel at home in the USA which is the place they have raised their family and brought up their kids. As the world becomes global this is one of the issues that is faced by many people.  In the end, one is always an "outsider" where they came from and where they settled.

Another interesting aspect that is explored is the changing of generations. As my kids grow older I am reminded of Sonia and Gogol. The temptation is to inculcate into them the values that I hold dear and more often than not there is alot of friction because as generations change and horizons broaden, so do the values that they decide are best suited for them. What then gives us as parent's the right to bring children up in certain ways so that when they grow they should not depart from them?

Although the book is about a Bengali family in the US of A, the issues that Jhumpa so easily seeks to write about are those that face any family irrespective of creed and race.  She is not judgemental but simply discribes the challenges faced by this very closely knit family.

I am drawn to the Ganguli family - Ashike, Ashima and their children Sonia & Gogol.   I admire their closeness and they reflect for me what many a family go through when they immigrate to new lands and learn new customs.  I like that Sonia challenges the status quo and yet she remains very close to her mother and to the values that her mother holds very dear.  

My view is that this is a book that should be read by many an expatriate family. Were it not for the very many references to sexual matters, I might encourage my own kids to read it and learn for themselves the pitfalls and the successes that await them. Perhaps, I might just!!

Francine Rivers - Redeeming Love

A commentary at the end of the book tells of California's Gold Country in the 1850 which was a time when men sold their souls for a bag of gold and women their bodies for a place to sleep. This, in essence summarises this novel - of a christian genre - which is an analysis of human nature as it was, is and is to come.  As the title reveals, it is also a story of love that redeems from the depths that we might find ourselves. The story line is simple but there are enough 'tributaries' in the story line to necessitate greater discussion and debate.  It is the sort of book, I would entice my friends to read.

The story of Mae is one of hopelessness...of one who crossed the Rubicon from where there was no turning back. She sought but found neither forgiveness nor redemption as her failures were judged unpardonable and her prosecutors unrelenting.  The double jeopardy was that the 'jury' ensured that she paid an extremely high price for the choices she made. 

Mae's daughter, Sarah, trod a path similar to the one trodden by her mother before her. Her options were limited and her only choice was to accept the cards that had been dealt her and play them the best and only way she knew how.  Her saving grace was that she received  a life line - which she avoided at all costs - but her redeemer was unrelenting.  Reading about Sarah, I pondered at length about SLM and what it was that drove her towards the choices that she took and whether we, her family, didn't love her enough but consigned her to a life so unmerciful yet so courageous.

Mingled in this storyline are the characters of an otherwise 'upright' citizenry, who aided and abetted the oldest  trade in the world.  In this day and age, the debate around commercial sex work is that it is a profession like any other and those who tinker in it - either out of choice or circumstance - have unalienable rights.  Lest we conclude that these are stories of another time and place, we might recall that an unmerciful media has recently bombarded us with the foibles and weaknesses of great men (leaders of nations and potential presidents) who have dabbled in this trade.  It is both the hypocrisy of men/women such as these but also the shame of others that draws the reader to further examination.

In between the continuum of many characters, I gleaned lessons that gave me a better understanding of human nature and realised that, in one way or other, there is a little bit of each one of them in me and that ultimately most of us long for redeeming love both in this world and in the world to come.

Tsitsi Dangarembga - Nervous Conditions

What puzzled me about the book is the writer - why this story and for whom was it written? Although set in Rhodesia, at a different time and place, most of it reminds me of Kenya.  I would wager that any African reading the book would find something or other that they could relate to. I reckon one would need to be an African to understand this book & appreciate the story line.

It would be simplistic to conclude that the book is feminist.   In my opinion, the book is principally about bad government. The pressure on Nyasha & Chido's father (both as first born and the one fortunate enough to have been educated) is unimaginable. He  has the burden to provide not only for his wife & children, but having prospered, to equally provide for his greater family and village mates. Given the absence of safety nets in many developing nations, the burden falls upon those who have 'made it' to provide for the rest who have not...sometimes to the detriment of one's family, happiness and well being. The safety net is not only about school fees, medical fees and jobs but also ensuring good holidays, providing counselling services and ideas. This burden is enough to make one go crazy. So, even as countries like mine, grapple with ideas on how to tax their citizens more, they must, like the more developed and emerging economies, take over the mantle of availing  the requisite safety nets for all its citizens. As economists advice Ministers of Finance and Economic Planning on how to bring more people into the tax net, they might also be advised to remind those Ministers that good government is not only about taxing already burdened people but also about providing basic services (like schools, hospitals, security, roads and shelter) for their populace.

Nyasha impresses me most .  Her father concludes - rather unfortunately - that she is rebellious because she often calls into question the status quo in her family, traditions, school, religious beliefs and life more generally.  Despite an education in England, Nyasha's father does not have the luxury to entertain a different point of view from the one he was brought up in.  Nyasha believes that the 'fights' she has with her father are healthier than her mother's simple acquiescence of things. Unfortunately, Nyasha eventually suffers from anorexia or some nervous condition which serves as a warning that it is not always helpful to pursue a different line of thought or agenda - to go against the flow - because more often than not, the contrary person loses.  So perhaps we are better served by accepting our lot - whatever it may be.  Amazingly, a white doctor opines about Nyasha's condition, that Africans do not suffer from whatever is ailing her which reminds me of a Sudanese girl suffering from depression in the USA and the Doctor's response was for her to 'snap out of it'. How could she, a Sudanese, have the luxury of being depressed? I guess, Africans do not have the luxury to bear the white man's burdens...we have enough other burdens.

I 'love' Lucia (Tambu's maternal aunt) who "says anything that comes to her head". Although illiterate, unmarried and with the odds stacked up against her, she opines that one must at least try (albeit not always in the conventional sense) in order to lift oneself from the circumstances that one finds oneself in.   She takes up with Takesure, decides that her pregnancy is Tambu's father's - instead of Takesure's - because Tambu's father might be better able to provide for her - even though he is her sister's husband. She has the guts to break with tradition and scolds her sister's family for not providing her with a fair hearing (discussing her situation as she is relagated to the kitchen with the women).  Tambu mentions that Aunt Lucia has managed to keep herself plump despite her tribulations. Only an African can understand the weight (no pun intended) of this sentence. Despite being left unceremoniously at the homestead, she arrives at the mission hospital just in time to ululate her sister 's birth to a son.  She eventually pushes Nyasha's dad to  find her a job (if he does not want her in a sinful & bigamous relationship ) and enrolls for grade 1 at 18 years.  When Tambu's mum gets into a depression it is Aunt Lucia who is called upon to manage the situation and she is able to nurse Tambu's mother out of that depression by force.

Nyasha's mother strikes me as a sad and pathetic character. She hasn't taken advantage of her degrees and exposure in South Africa and England to emancipate herself.  Had she Lucia's character she might have been a happier woman which reminds me that our freedom lies within ourselves.  Her yoke & burden is heavier because her expectations might have previously been higher given her level of education. She muses that she has no earnings even though she is employed since her salary is her husband's, the decisions are her husband's, her family is her husband's and she unfortunately has nothing much to show for herself nor for the education & exposure she has received.  Even her family house at the homestead is unilaterally given to Tambu's parents as a belated wedding present without her consent.  Without her family house, she has no status - until her husband starts building a new one for her. There is no mention of her relatives except the one time she unsuccessfully runs away to her brother before being returned. It is no wonder that people were always wary of educating women if they cannot do anything with the education they receive!!!  In many ways,  her lot is no better or different from Tambu's mum who is illiterate, poor and who unfortunately has to live under the vicissitudes on a culture that seeks to entrap her further.  However when all is said and done, she is a good mother, aunt, in-law and wife.

As for Tambu's mum, one can only feel sorry for her. Married at 15 to a good for nothing husband the result of an unplanned pregnancy which limits the bride price to her parents. She is not one to be admired and brings shame upon her family.   To add insult to injury, the child who causes  her to leave her people for this marriage dies five month's after birth. Her other son,  Nhamo, and apple of her eye, dies when at the mission school. In a culture where sons are wealth, she subsequently only gives birth to daughters. A dangerous scenario because she becomes vulnerable to the fact that her husband may be tempted to marry her sister in order to sire sons.  She thinks someone has bewitched her and falls into a depression.  Thanks to Lucia, she eventually snaps out of it.  Life is unfair but there is always light at the end of tunnel, even for those who do not make any effort to reach that end.  She inherits a house, gives birth to the much needed son and her daughter Tambu gets the scholarship to Sacred Heart school. So her lot isn't too bad after all as, like Hannah in the Book of Samuel, God has heard her cry...even though she did not necessarily cry to him.

I have often wondered why people feel that they have been bewitched when one misfortune or other befalls them (or with the advent of faith based churches, that some cleansing of the home is required).  Tambu's mum feels strongly that Nyasha's mum has bewitched her and is taking her children away from her...First Nhamo - who dies prematurely in his prime and then Tambu.  However, I like the pragmatic summary after the family kamukunji which concludes that everyone seems to have some problem or other. Aunt Gladys' misfortune is having two unwed but pregnant daughters and a wife beating son;  Uncle Thomas'  last child appears  autistic; Tambu's parents' live in perpetual poverty and Nyasha's father, who although rich, has unadjusted children.  In the same vein, people would be much advised to count their blessings and name them one by one.

Reading this book, I could weave similar tales from the stories my mother regales me with each holiday.  Didn't an uncle's wife feel strongly that 'someone' in the home was 'doing her in'?  How could one explain why it was only her branch of the family that did not seem to be doing well.  Another uncle's wife brought a pastor to cleanse her homestead because her children did not seem to be thriving in their jobs. The interesting thing, I might add, is that it is always the women married into the home, who are wont to conclude that something is amiss and someone is to blame. More often than not, the culprit would be the one who appears to be prospering or a co-wife. (I must digress to explain that, in my culture, a co-wife might mean that the women are married to brothers or married to the same husband.) 

I guess the book also seeks to demonstrate that the burden on women is doubly great - irrespective of the level of education, status or wealth.  More often than not women married into many a family have no particular status and their opinion is usually irrelevant despite the advent of religion and education. Recently when commenting on female judges in Kenya, it was concluded that the Judiciary still remains very much a man's world.  No matter how much pundits may wax lyrical about the progress made towards achieving gender parity -  the statistics in boardrooms and politics, even in developed countries -  are skewed to the  boys' clubs.   The context might be different in this day & age, much might have been achieved with technological & educational advancements but it goes without saying that the path to gender equality & parity is still relatively untrodden.

I would conclude that 'Nervous Conditions' is just as relevant today in Kenya as it is in Zimbabwe and for that reason, the book is really a good read.

Colleen McCullough - The Thorn Birds

I first read my father's copy of the Thorn Birds as a teenager and have read it many times since I purchased my own paperback.  With each reading, I collected new insights and recently, having just finished it, I wonder how to compress 591 pages into a single rant.

This time, I read it from a different perspective - with more depth & meaning and focused much on the story of Christianity that intertwines its pages.  The tale read like an old testament story with lots of wisdom to learn from.  Or is it the effect of aging because as we mature we are wont to look at things in a much more different light - with an eye on our mortality - than we did during our idealistic youth. I am certain that were I to read the book five years from now, the things that would strike me most would be different.  When AM saw me holding the book, she said...Oh isn't that the story about the priest and the girl.  I guess for her, the story line that meant the most was...forbidden but enduring love. It is amazing...isn't it that despite all wisdom against the contrary the main women in the book hungered after men that they couldn't hold onto as they were already spoken for?

The Thornbirds weaves a story about families and lineages that must perpetuate themselves or die.  Families that make mistakes and mothers that love some children more than others. The thesis is that parents love their children equally - but differently.  However the antithesis is that it is possible to love one child more than all others.  It does not necessarily mean the other children are hated - it just means that one child is loved more and the child who is loved 'less' senses it.

Like many books written by women, this book has strong women - who survive whatever cards are dealt them. What is also amazing is that this family perpetuates itself through the girl child even though the name comes down the male line - Armstrong, Cleary, O'Neill and Hartheim.

At the story's heart is the love of Meghan Cleary, who can never possess the man she desperately adores,  Father Ralph de Bricassart, who rises from parish priest to the inner circles of the Vatican...but whose passion for Meghan would follow him all the days of his life. I never quite understood how Father Ralph could have intercourse with Meghan and after all that, walk away from her. The call of God was strong...Yet even when he had followed his destiny to the church, he still was jealous that she found respite in another man. 

At this juncture in my life, I mused greatly about the character of God as portrayed in the book:-

      On the one hand we experience a God of forgiveness, in the face of sincere repentance. Ralph     broke all his vows - chastity, obedience and poverty - but was convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt for as long as he lived that God was merciful and he rose to the highest echelons as Cardinal. After all, it is God's kindness that leads us to repentance...knowing that He loves us.  Dane was persuaded that God could forgive us anything...with no strings attached as He understood our frailties.

      On the other hand, we see the God of retribution - a jealous God - who punishes Fiona and Meghan by taking away the sons that meant the most to them, in the prime of their lives.  Sons they shouldn't have had in the first place. Doesn't the Bible remind us...Do not be deceived, God is not mocked. Whatever a man sows, so shall he reap.

I am certain the author did not plan for the reader to spend too much time analysing God who was inevitable in the book at that time and place...That said, her juxtapositions of God struck me. Were I to choose, I would prefer Ralph and Dane's God - A God who is merciful to us, sinners...who understands that - when all is said & done - we are human afterall...for the bottom line is that, as Fiona muses, the seeds of our ruin are sown even before we are born. We cannot do anything about it really.

In a way, the climax of the book is about hope...about Justine and Rainer.  (Both unloved by those who bore them. Justine was a child of convenience who lived in Dane's shadow whereas Rainer was given up for adoption). I didn't regard them much the previous times that I read the book. The book is indeed about them and it is fitting they are the ones who perpetuate the family line albeit on a different continent. They represent  the stubbornness of love,  love that is patience and true love that endures and transcends all hurdles.  They represent the next generation that is perpetuated despite everything.  In essence, all things eventually work out for good. Isn't that wonderful and amazing?

Abraham Verghese - Cutting for Stone

I first read this book in 2010 having purchased it, as I do many of my books, at an airport - This time it was Gatwick.  My sister's recent musing that my brother, a surgeon, might enjoy this book led me to pick it up again from my bookshelf and pore through its pages as though there was no tomorrow. I am certain something will trigger me to read it again a third time....And even then there will still be some unfinished business that beckons me to reopen the book.

As I flipped through the pages in this book tears rolled, unbidden, down my cheeks.  I could not tell whether it was the book or the state of my emotions. What is it about writers that they are able to scratch the deepest recesses and draw juxtapositions (my most frequently used word) through the fiction that they purport to transcribe?  When I read the book the first time round in 2010 the sole sentence that I bothered to underline was 'indeed to think of life as tragic is a posture of delusion, for life is infinitely worse than tragic'.

The book's title derives from the ancient Greek Hippocratic Oath which includes the phrase: "I will not cut for stone, even for the patients in whom the disease is manifest; I will leave this operation to be performed by practitioners,".  It is a book by a physician and perhaps physicians would be better able to analyse  the book in a way that we mere mortals might not.  Indeed some terms were foreign to me as a laywoman but they demystified - to some extent - the profession.

The saga is broad and takes us through India, Africa and the United States of America. Each part of the story covering a distinct part of a generation very different from the other but with the characters intertwined.  There are so many quotes - medical and otherwise - that I would like to remember for a rainy day.   Except for Genet, I loved most of the characters, even Dr Thomas Stone - the estranged father. My best character is Matron...The Doyen of the mission hospital in Addis.

I am drawn to the family strands throughout the book from Justifus and Hilda Stone in India; their only son Dr Thomas Stone in Ethiopia & Boston; to the twins Marion and Shiva Stone (from Dr Thomas' one night stand with Sister Mary Joseph Praise) in Ethiopia and the linkages between them. I love the twins' adoptive parents, Hema and Ghosh, cast in that role so unexpectedly but who take the challenge in its stride. The unrequited and forbidden love by Sister Mary Joseph Praise for Dr Thomas Stone was nothing but intriguing. I am sure one could spin many a yarn from real life that matches those of the characters because indeed life is not always so linear even when one 'goes to the beginning and goes on until they come to the end'.  From this family saga, I was touched by a comment made by Hema which I hope I shall always remember '...A mother loves her children equally...but sometimes one child needs more help, more attention, to get by in the world.'.  One might wonder whether indeed mothers have the wisdom to make this judgement call and I may be forgiven in perhaps concluding that this call is a burden too great for a mother to decide upon. For in so doing, might she not hurt the other child whom she thinks needs less help? This reminded me of a discussion I often had with my own mother - Did she love me less than she did my more pliant sister or did I need more moulding & discipline? 

Marion refers to a time when he  '... is fearful that he might sink into an abyss and where there is no promise of  return'.  Although this is whilst he is in hospital there are many instances through out the book that remind me of my mother's  reference to the idiom 'crossing the Rubicon'.  Like Caesar's army,  many  actions by the characters are like 'crossing the Rubicon from which there is no return'.  In real life, we make choices and take chances and when we do, we must go forth and live by them without the benefit of a second chance.  Most of the characters (major or peripheral) face many voids...Be it Hilda, Thomas, Sister Mary, Shiva, Genet or even Marion. Voids that destroy them or threaten to draw them into the abyss that is so aptly defined by Marion.

Although not my forte, I am somewhat amazed about the historical (political) backdrop of Ethiopia - from Emperor Menelik, Emperor Haile Selassie, Colonel Haile Meriem Mengistu and the start of the Ethiopian Eritrean conflict. Every time I bump into an Ethiopian or Eritrean, I will always think of Marion and Shiva Stone.  An Eritrean taxi driver to Gatwick airport once educated me on his view of the struggle between Eritrea & Ethiopia. I ended up giving him a huge tip for all Eritrean troubles!

Ultimately, there is too much untimely pain, tragedy, suffering and death in the book. Indeed the book starts with a verse 'And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well...'  I guess death is inevitable but it would seem that the author quite enjoyed to dispense of his characters before they had experienced the fullness of life.

Miriam Toews - A Complicated Kindness

Coincidentally, I have re-read this book during the same time that we have been studying 1st Corinthians.  At the bible study class, I raised the difficulty of the first chapters of 1 Corinthians on the Apostle Paul's advice to shun the believer who indulges in sin. The standards that the Apostle Paul exhorts are extremely high and perhaps misapplied if taken too literally and without grace...I would much prefer Jesus' words...Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone. Not necessarily condoning the sin but loving the weaker brother who perchance is not able to make it. I do not see much love in 'shunning'. This shunning business is indeed the central theme that is the subject of this book.  Another theme is the hypocrisy of those who sometimes are vocal with executing the shunning.

The story is told in through the eyes of Naomi Nickel about the demise of her family...as lived in the first sixteen years of her life. Her family made up of her parents Gertrude & Raymond Nickel and her sister Natasha & herself falls apart.  Naomi narrates the experiences through her own eyes, lest someone changes her understanding of events as they really happened...including, she realises that her mother has an affair with her teacher - an error of judgement because she does not even love him. The book is not linear and it goes back and forth as though remembering things as one would normally when recounting an experience.  There are a lot of gaps because as a child you aren't told everything and you need to piece the events for yourself to make sense of them.

Although the book is about the claustrophobic environment that the Nickels struggled in and the difficult choices that they had to make or choices that were made for them, I could not help juxtaposing it with the life that we now live in.  Sometimes our lives fall apart right before our eyes and there is nothing we can do to stop the melt down.   In the work place, in our families, in our clans, in our different associations...the pressure to conform is great and woe upon the one who does not conform...but even those who conform do not really thrive. So it is kind of like being between a rock and a hard place. Either way you lose.

Of course the kindness is complicated because there is the expectation that shunning would lead the non conformist to reconsider and return to the straight and narrow. (I digress by mentioning that I was recently encouraged by a quote I came across: 'an opinion is not a crime'. It is my belief that in order for societies to thrive its members must be left free to have opinions and that expecting everybody to conform to a certain pattern or way of thinking is often self destructing.)  Reading the book, I could not help wondering whether it is easier, as we tread upon this complicated world, to take the easier way and conform; pretend to conform or to go off on a tangent.  Being a non-comformist oftentimes disturbs the subtle order but might be beneficial in the long run...although not always, because it leaves a lot of hurt in its wake...like it did in Naomi's (and Raymond's life). Afterall Socrates paid for his life for 'propagating the art of fallacious discourse' and disturbing the peace.  Even a recent retrial, through a present & modern day enactment, did not lead to a unanimous acquital but more a hung jury. Had Galileo paid attention to the moral of Socrates story he might not have been charged with 'vehement suspision of heresy' by propagating that the sun stood firm and that the earth and other planets rotated around it...and lost his freedom and honour.

The book led me to thinking about semantics. Is a retreat a workshop or are they two different things? Reminds me of the famous saying that 'a rose by any other name is still a rose'.

I googled the author and wondered whether in effect, 'A complicated kindness' mirrors her own experiences given that she is a Mennonite. I also wondered about her religious order's  comments on the book...would it lead her to being shunned and excommunicated? Or would they reflect on the impact that they have on its followers.  I have never met a Mennonite but had the occasion to meet some Amish around the time I bought and first read the book.

I was drawn to the Nickel family and identified with their struggles. I would have wished that the book had happier memories and a happier ending and that the events weren't so tragic. 

At least Raymond leaves Naomi a verse from Isaiah - For you shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you with singing, and all the trees in the field shall clap their hands. After all, we need some hope in life that things will be better.

Shange and Bayeza - Some Sing, Some Cry

Poring through the pages of this book, I wondered what story line I would rant about. The book covers approximately 200 years - 7 generations of Mayfields - cramped into 560 pages.  I read somewhere about the beauty of learning history without having to move from one's location.

I picked the book during a recent visit to God's country and was drawn as much by the names of its writers  - Two sisters...Ntozake Shange and Ifa Bayeza - as from the history it depicted. African American History intrigues me and this was a worthy book having just met at a conference, folks 'like me' from from Haiti, Turks & Caicos, Barbados, Trinidad, St Lucia... I could not help musing as I sat through the conference or on the metro, that one of the British Empire's great experiments really did impact the world in a grand way.

The book is matrilineal with the North Star being Mah Bette; of the first set of emancipated slaves and her blood flowing through generations of strong women. The blood mingles with that of men, also portrayed in the book, but their impact is peripheral to the story, as the characters, through the generations, look back to the North Star for guidance. The family, through generations, is remarkable, resilient and strong...standing out for one another and surviving.   The family is also whoever we chose to make family..."almost family" and "adoptive families" are sometimes the way we manage. I got to researching the book, read the acknowledgements and biographical notes and like many a book  - though fictionalised - a lot mirrors the life and ancestry of the writers.  I have always held that everybody has a story to tell. Sometimes we tell it, sometimes it passes orally down through generations and other times it dies in our hearts. The story is reminiscent of the Jefferson-Hemmings saga...some stories we take to our graves. I reckon in the complex relationships between slaves and their owners...the storyline and bloodline moves from mother to child rendering the male parent irrelevant.

I was drawn to Mah Bette, the most.  Mah Bette is an enigma. She has to be, given that she is the matriarch. She is pragmatic and the thread around which her descendants thrive. How did Julius Mayfield Snr bear children with his own daughter, Betty alias Mah Bette? Wasn't that contrary to the laws of nature even in the days of slavery? What is the eventual storyline of Julius Mayfield jnr who was stolen from Mah Bette at birth and passed as heir to the Mayfield fortune? Weren't the truths of his real origins self evident? What became of Mah Bette's daughter, Elma - Did she perpetuate the bloodline? How does Mah Bette's daughter, Blanche deny her on mother, even for expediency? 

The book does not dwell too much on the intrigues - the stories are told as a matter of fact - they are indeed tales of survival and betterment of oneself, by any means possible.  As always, one must play to the best of their ability, the cards that one is dealt. The storyline is complex and complicated and leaves more questions than answers.  Why did Tom Winrow disappear? What happened to Osceola Turner's parents. Who raped Eudora? What draws me to the book is that despite "losing" all her four children, Mah Bette is stoic and faces the challenges that are dealt her with pragmatism. She is rewarded with a fertile line and very many descendants who carry her name through 7 generations and possibly beyond.

Names intrigue me...each time I fill out a form, I wonder what is in a name? Osceola Turner - Turner was neither his father's name nor his mother's and Deacon Turner wasn't his blood brother. Elma Winrow - Winrow wasn't her father and in college, she went by Elma Diggs taking on her uncle's name. Deacon Turner changes his name to Deacon Holstein...taking on his wife's name. Lizzie Winrow names herself Mayfield Turner, dropping Lizzie and taking her boyfriend's name posthumously...In changing our names, we oftentimes desire to reinvent ourselves...To seek one's true identity.  Sometimes we seek to remove the preposterous burdens of the names bestowed upon us.  What pushed the authors to drop their "slave names" and adopt knew names when their parents and siblings didn't? Why do we, swahili speaking peoples, name our children Joy and not Furaha, Faith and not Amani, Grace and not Imani, Hope and not Tumaini? Which is one's true self...the one we choose and live or the one we are assigned? What is in a name? Why are we encouraged to pass our children with names such as Stacy, Stephanie, Nancy, Hillary, Winstone, Dieudonne, Diogratious and a multitude of other "strange" names.

Reading this book, I will never be able to pass someone without perchance marvelling that they were living a different story....Not necessarily their own but someone else's.