Sapphire (1) (1950–)

I saw the film which is based upon this novel long before reading it, and the film has been praised as an unflinching portrayal of human struggle and also decried as a fetishization of "black pathology." Sapphire's novel at least seems to avoid Hollywood's pitfalls of dimensionless sensationalism and saccharine redemption. This is a novel about a young black girl who is poor, illiterate, overweight, and victimized by incestuous rape resultant in multiple pregnancies. Many critics argue that show more such a barrage of horrible circumstances is unrealistic, though to say so is deny that many young women of color do indeed face these very circumstances. Perhaps that is simply too shameful a thing to admit to ourselves. The key to this novle is what Sapphire does with language, the language grows as the character grows and evokes for her and for us new dimensions of understanding about her story. If we looked at Precious and not through Precious this book would be a masturbatory exercise in pity and black woe that white audiences could weep to with abandon. Sapphire's storytelling rightfully denies that. This book evokes empathy, not pity, and that is an important distinction. show less

Several months ago I was approached by a coworker and asked if I had read Sapphire's Push. She had seen a trailer of for the upcoming movie and knew she just had to see it. When she discovered it was based on a book, she thought of me.

Push is not one of those novels that will appeal to everyone. It may offend some. It is a book that will drag out the reader's darker emotions: anger and sadness. It did for me, anyway. I read this book with tears in my eyes. I had a few choice names for the show more mother and father. My heart ached for Precious Jones. No child should have to endure what she did. No child. Ever. And yet it is also a story about hope and overcoming the odds. In that way, it is an inspirational novel.

My coworker insists that the novel is based on a true story, but I haven't been able to verify that. As far as I know, it is a work of fiction. However, before you take comfort in that, keep in mind that about 1 out of 4 girls in the U.S. are sexually abused (1 in 6 boys). Most sexual abuse occurs by someone close to the child, someone the child is supposed to trust. Precious' own story may be fiction, but many children throughout the world suffer in similarly every day. They endure not only sexual abuse and physical abuse. They fall through the cracks of our school systems, barely able to read and write, even by the time they are in their teens. I know. I've seen this first hand.

Sapphire tells the story using Precious' own voice, in Precious' vernacular. Words are spelled out phonetically, there are plenty of curse words, and certain phrases and concepts are repeated several times; while this might seem like it would be bothersome, it was not at all. If anything, the writing style gives voice to the character, putting the reader in her shoes if only for the span of the novel. It did not take long for me to fall into the rhythm of the story.

Precious is 16 years old at the start of the novel, pregnant with her second child. She had given birth to a daughter when she was only 12 years old. The father of her children is her own father, a man who has been raping her since she was a young child. She is extremely overweight and the butt of many jokes. Precious has a very limited world view which is expanded through the course of the novel. All her life she has been alone, friendless and with hardly any support from others. Her mother is downright evil, beating her daughter regularly. I could not drum up an ounce of sympathy for Precious' mother. I don't think I was meant to.

Kicked out of junior high because she is pregnant, Precious is told she must attend an alternative school. It is there where she meets Blue Rain, an unorthodox teacher who draws Precious and her classmates out. For the first time in her life, Precious feels like she belongs somewhere. She connects with her classmates and teacher. She experiences the kindness of others, something completely foreign to her. She also comes to realize she is not alone.

Precious is one of those characters I wish I could reach into the novel and hug, reassuring her that she is beautiful and smart, and that she doesn't deserve the abuse she has suffered. She is courageous and good at heart. She thinks so little of herself and yet there is a spark deep inside here that keeps her going. She isn't completely without self-confidence, though it is extremely fragile. She craves praise and eats it up when it is offered. Reading the stories of her classmates, I felt the same way about them. Each of them also had suffered much in their short lives, enduring pain and loss that no child should have to endure.

Blue Rain realizes right away that the young women in her class need to learn to believe in themselves. She could easily stick to the curriculum and prepare them for the GED. She wants to do more than that for them, though.

Precious can barely read or write at the start of the book, and, as the novel progresses, the reader can see the growth she makes in the narrative. While this is novel is a horror story in some respects, it is also an inspirational one. My heart broke for Precious time and time again. It also swelled at her successes, even the smallest of ones. Push is no fairy tale. There is no miraculous happy ending. Everything does not turn out perfectly in the end. What there is, however, is hope.

I couldn't help but think of Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye as I read Push. Many of the same themes run through both novels. The Color Purple by Alice Walker also came to mind which turned out to be quite fitting given the novel is referenced frequently. Precious identifies with Celcie from The Color Purple.

I think it is important not to overlook the cultural aspects of the novel. Precious is a black young woman, living in the Bronx with her mother who is collecting welfare. Discrimination is nothing new to her. She does not trust the authorities nor most white people. She spends much of her time wishing she was lighter skinned and thinner. What happened to her would not have happened had she been white, she reasons. One of my favorite scenes in the novel is when she attends her first Survivors of Incest Anonymous meeting. She walks in feeling alone, as if no one in the room will be able to identify with her or understand the horrors she has suffered. She walks out with the realization that she is far from alone and that what happened to her, could have happened to anyone, regardless of race, size or economic background. Child abuse has no boundaries when it comes to culture. It affects us all regardless.

Push is one of those novels I can talk about forever if given the chance. I have given you a small taste of it here and hope you will give it a try. And if you are up for it, you might want to watch the movie too.

Movies based on books are rarely as good as their predecessors. We all know that. Some of you may avoid watching movies based on books you have read for that very reason. Others, like me, run to the movie theater (or the Netflix website) to see how those movies turned out.

Because of a summer movie with the same title, Push became Precious when it hit movie theaters. I couldn't wait the couple of days it would take for the movie to appear in a theater closer to my town, and so I dragged my husband to Los Angeles so we could see it at the ArcLight in Hollywood, where it opened its first weekend in limited release.

I have already talked at length about the book and so will not do so again in talking about the movie. All I really have to say is wow. Precious is quite a movie. The rave reviews you hear about Mo'Nique serving up an Oscar worthy performance as the mother is true. It was raw and oh so real. The final scene with Mo'Nique in the film is especially gut wrenching. Gabourey Sidibe who played Precious was outstanding in performance too. She had the same edge as the character in the novel, the same heart, and won me over just as quickly. I had been a little worried about the dream sequences going into the movie, but my concerns were unwarranted. While they were a bit more of a spectacle in the movie than they had been in the book, they were well placed.

The movie differs from the book in a few ways, including the ending--although the overall feel of the two was much the same. I really don't feel pointing out the differences matters as a result. I think the only complaint I have about the movie is that I wish I'd gotten a little deeper look at Precious' classmates. I understand though the decision not to go that route. Movies have time limits and not every detail from a book can make it onto the big screen.

The movie enriched my appreciation for the book and vice versa. Just as in the book, I watched Precious grow from victim to survivor. While her overall story is terribly sad, her courage and hope make her an inspiration. show less

This book was the source material for the 2009 film Precious. Never realized it was a book, and I avoided the film for a long time because I thought it was just too depressing, but as an adult, and because talk of the movie and the book kept finding it's way into my YouTube recommendations, I figured I'd give it a shot.

The book should come with every trigger warning you could ever imagine, telling the story of Precious Jones, who's lived her whole life being sexually assaulted by both show more parents, impregnated by her father twice, basically lives as a servant and punching bag to her mother (who's relying on welfare), struggles in school and with her mental health due to the abuse at home, and even gets kicked out of school due to her second pregnancy and referred to an alternative school. And the trauma conga line only continues when Precious discovers she could have AIDS, because of the repeated sexual assault she's had to endure from her father (assault that she struggles with due to the shame, the knowledge that it's wrong for him to be hurting her, but also the physical pleasure that seems to keep happening with each assault).

It's not a book for the feint of heart...

Granted, I've consumed other media with serious and horrible subject matter, so I was very much prepared. But in Precious, we really see the raw, horrible experience that the black protagonist who's living through abuse in 1980s New York City, and how she wants to better herself, even disobeying her mother and continuing to pursue school when she's been told all her life that school won't do any good, and how she should go to the welfare office instead. Precious LOVES school. She knows that school can help her better her life, despite the difficulty with understanding the work, her difficulty speaking, having two children but only having custody over one - struggling to stay out of abusive situations (even trying to avoid outright getting killed by her mother) and get any help she can possibly get to survive.

Anyone who's been reliant on social services, especially when they've been the victim of abuse could easily relate to Precious' story; and her navigating the system, particularly needing to rely heavily on the system while also being a parent and getting an education for herself, while counselors and welfare officers try to convince her to do different so she won't be a burden on the system forever feels even more relevant in 2025. Her advocating for herself and her struggle is moving, but we as the audience know that she deserves so much more, and that she never deserved to be in this position in the first place. Even she knows that, and watching her as she realizes she never deserved the life she was born into as she learns to read, write and improve her speech makes the story even more painful.

And the most painful of all, is that women and girls like Precious Jones, and evil people like her mother and father exist in the real world; and that this sort of abuse happens every day, flying under the radar, ignored, regardless of social class, wealth, race, or location - many of which never face any punishment for their crimes against their victims. And not every victim ends up getting the help they need, no matter how much they pursue it and try to find resources. Precious ends up being one of the lucky ones, and yet she still goes through so much, and the universe continues throwing more hardship at her...

Push is a story of pain and trauma, where no monsters get punished, where victims have to keep moving forward, facing adversity absolutely everywhere. Some end up better than others, thriving and escaping the system once and for all, but for most? Only more pain awaits. show less

Digital audiobook narrated by the author

I’ve wanted to read this ever since the Oscars ceremony that highlighted the film (which I have yet to see).

Precious Jones is a young pregnant black teenager, who is functionally illiterate and the product of an abusive home. But Precious has a fierce determination to care for the baby growing inside her and to better her life. She WILL learn to read. She WILL keep her baby. She WILL succeed.

The issues raised are horrific and difficult to read show more about and process. Brava to Sapphire for highlighting the plight of young people such as her protagonist. The writing is raw and brutal; the story is gripping and inspiring. My heart broke for Precious, even as I cheered her on.

I did have a copy of the text handy, as I typically do for audiobooks. But I didn’t look at it until I had finished listening. On opening that first page I am struck by the author’s use of vernacular dialect, and the kind of misspellings a person like Precious would resort to in writing her own story. I’m reminded of Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God, and how listening to the audio of that work made it easier to absorb the story.

The author narrates the audiobook herself, and I cannot imagine that anyone else would have done a better job. show less