Caul Baby

Morgan Jerkins' Caul Baby is one of those wonderful novels where the plot becomes increasingly tightly-knit while simultaneously broadening in scope. New characters have surprising connections to old characters; past events become forces in the present.

Caul Baby explores contemporary issues of Black identity—pregnancy and motherhood; gentrification; education, opportunity, and political compromise—and pairs these with a touch of what may or may not be magical realism, depending on your belief system. The pace of the novel feels slow at first because Jerkins takes time to explore her characters and to let readers get to know them; near the end, the pace picks up for a conclusion most readers won't see coming.

I don't want to say a lot show more about the plot here because a synopsis may make it sound like less than it is. Just trust me—if you enjoy contemporary fiction, this title belongs on your to-read list.

I received a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes. The opinions are my own. show less

This was the perfect book to read during Halloweek, if only because the protagonist is named Hallow and born on All Hallow's Eve. The story is just barely creepy enough for a scaredy-cat like me.

I read this book in order to participate in The Free Black Women's Library monthly book discussion, but unfortunately I'm going to miss it for a birthday party–this is too bad, because the novel really bears discussion. The metaphor of Jerkins' magical, healing caul (the amniotic membrane enclosing a fetus) for appropriation, gentrification, intergenerational trauma/abuse, profit from black bodies, and according to the author, "how Black women are supposed to be everything for everyone else" might seem heavy-handed at a glance, but it's so show more visceral and creative in the way that she executes it that I ended up thinking more about the symbolism than the symbols, if that makes sense, which is to me a sign of any good creative work. Reading her essay "How I Overcame Anger As A Black Writer Online" gives some additional insight into her personal experiences in this vein of being a personal-trauma mercenary (https://www.lennyletter.com/story/how-i-overcame-anger-as-a-black-writer-online).

This book reminded me of Ruth Ozeki's "All Over Creation," because it pitted two such morally ambiguous yet equally sympathetic parties against each other. Although I spent most of the book waiting for a conclusion that would simultaneously solve all of these problems, which of course didn't come, and even though I'm sure that there is a moral solution in there somewhere, which I just need someone to tell me, I did not find the end of the book dissatisfying.

Some reviewers complain about lackluster prose or predictability of the plot, and although there were a couple of re-used, word-for-word phrases (a personal pet peeve), I think she wrote like a nonfiction writer, which can be a breath of fresh air in contemporary literature. And like I said before, I didn't spend any time wondering when the book was finally going to end or knowing exactly what was going to happen next (in large part because of the complex network of protagonists, like I mentioned before). I thought it clipped along at a nice pace, and even if at points I wasn't paying total attention, it's because my mind had wandered off on a rabbit trail of the moral consequences of pitting the diaspora against itself. show less

Morgan Jenkins (This Will be My Undoing) makes her fiction debut with Caul Baby, a book about the beauty and pain of being a Black woman and raising Black women. The Melancon family has a history of mystical caul babies—born with their outer membranes intact—that they fuse to their skin. People pay thousands of dollars for small pieces of the caul that they cut off because they believe them to hold healing properties. Josephine Melancon, heir to her mother’s prosperous caul livelihood, cannot have a child of her own to carry on the family name and business. Through a stroke of luck, her longtime boyfriend knows a pregnant teenager on the path to academic and professional success forever twining these two families and their show more generations of women together. Jenkins does a lot right—including some nice writing at times, an interesting story, and really centering powerful Black women in her story. She understands how to make these women feel real and the complicated relationships that arise. Unfortunately, some plot points make no sense even in the realm of magical realism that Jenkins plays with, but doesn’t really commit to. It’s like she couldn’t quite decide what kind of book she wanted so everything went into the pot; it works for a while, but eventually it’s all just a little too much. Caul Baby will still appeal to many readers with its themes of family, belonging, motherhood and Black identity overriding the stumbles of Jenkin's first novel. show less

Laila desperately wants to become a mother, but each of her previous pregnancies has ended in heartbreak. This time has to be different, so she turns to the Melancons, an old and powerful Harlem family known for their caul, a precious layer of skin that is the secret source of their healing power.

When a deal for Laila to acquire a piece of caul falls through, she is heartbroken, but when the child is stillborn, she is overcome with grief and rage. What she doesn’t know is that a baby will soon be delivered in her family - by her niece, Amara, an ambitious college student - and delivered to the Melancons to raise as one of their own. Hallow is special: She’s born with a caul, and their matriarch, Maman, predicts the girl will restore show more the family’s prosperity.

Growing up, Hallow feels that something in her life is not right. Did Josephine, the woman she calls mother, really bring her into the world? Why does her cousin Helena get to go to school and roam the streets of New York freely while she’s confined to the family’s decrepit brownstone?

As the Melancons’ thirst to maintain their status grows, Amara, now a successful lawyer running for district attorney, looks for a way to avenge her longstanding grudge against the family. When mother and daughter cross paths, Hallow will be forced to decide where she truly belongs.

Engrossing, unique, and addicting, Caul Baby illuminates the search for familial connection, the enduring power of tradition, and the dark corners of the human heart. show less

I hadn't realized this was magical realism when I started it, so I was a little confused at the beginning but once I understood what all the caulbearing stuff was about, I was locked in. A really cool generational story about Black women and motherhood, mixed in with some biological healing magics.

A very intense, unique read that blends magical realism and social justice, or lack there of.

Love her non-fiction but didn't enjoy most aspects of this story, the exception being the doulas.