Passing

Nella Larsen’s use of color in “Passing” is apropos since it’s a story about different women who can racially pass as white and the attendant problems of identity within different social circles. It’s also the first time the two main characters have met in years. The idea of passing could also refer to marital infidelity or transitory relationships or, simply, the brief glimpse a person may get of themselves —that moment of stark lucidity before the mirror. There’s a lot going on here. But the author’s use of color is as beautiful, original and evocative as it is pervasive.

“Brilliant red patches flamed in Irene Redfield’s warm olive cheeks.”

“A waiter passed her, followed by a sweetly scented woman in a show more fluttering dress of green chiffon whose mingled pattern of narcissuses, jonquils, and hyacinths was a reminder of pleasantly chill spring days.”

“Irene watched her spread out her napkin, saw the silver spoon in the white hand slit the dull gold of the melon.”

“Entering, Irene found herself in a sitting room, large and high, at whose windows hung startling blue draperies which triumphantly dragged attention from the gloomy chocolate-colored furniture. And Clare was wearing a thin floating dress of the same shade of blue, which suited her and the rather difficult room to perfection.”

“A pale rose color came into Clare’s ivory cheeks.”

“Clare, exquisite, golden, fragrant, in a stately gown of shining black taffeta, whose long, full skirt lay in graceful folds about her slim golden feet; her glistening hair drawn smoothly back into a small twist at the nape of her neck; her eyes sparkling like dark jewels. Irene, with her new rose-colored chiffon frock ending at the knees, and her cropped curls, felt dowdy and commonplace.”

“Clare fair and golden, like a sunlit day. Hazelton dark, with gleaming eyes, like a moonlit night.”

“Irene couldn’t remember ever having seen her look better. She was wearing a superlatively simple cinnamon-brown frock which brought out all her vivid beauty, and a little golden bowl of a hat. Around her neck hung a string of amber beads that would easily have made six or eight like one Irene owned. Yes, she was stunning.”

“The day was an exceptionally cold one, with a strong wind that had whipped a dusky red into Felise’s smooth golden cheeks and driven moisture into Irene’s soft brown eyes.”

OK, so I know that’s a lot to drop in an FB post, but that’s the power color has in this book. It’s a cumulative power. And all that paint builds up like impasto and makes you aware of each individual line in the brush strokes. The pain, the jealousy, the struggles, the frustration, the awe, the heartbreak—it’s all in there. Layers upon layers of gorgeously tormented meetings in the passing between humans. From race to race, sex to sex, social class to class, we all leave our thick lines in the paint. Will it compliment or contrast our idea of our own existence when we see it—when we happen upon that glimpse in the passing?

“Her whole body went taut. In that second she saw that she could bear anything, but only if no one knew that she had anything to bear. It hurt. It frightened her, but she could bear it.”

Goddamnit, Nella Larsen. You wrote a book that will have a far greater effect on me than the title would otherwise suggest. show less

This is the kind of book that stays with you; the kind where you turn the page and hope for more, even though you know it's done. It's the kind of book where you need to take a minute because it hurts a little. There are no heroes here, just people trying to do what they think is best, with disastrous results.

Quick, tightly written piece that reminded me of Katherine Mansfield, with a well-rendered mix of interior struggles, interpersonal cruelty, and a thoughtful exploration of the intricacies of racial identity in America. A breezy read that is never unengaging, though the ending wraps up in a sort of pat and typical fashion that is neither satisfying nor surprising. I'm am surprised that I never read this in high school or college (read a good share of Harlem Renaissance literature), I'm glad to see it is getting some well-deserved attention recently. I listened to the Tessa Thompson-read audiobook and her delivery was expert and nuanced.

I remember reading and liking Quicksand in college, so I was interested enough in Passing to pluck it off my wife's bookshelf. This was also very good, a tale of a black woman who sometimes "passes" in public (to, say, go to a nice restaurant) interacting with another one who spends all her time passing-- even with her white, racist husband! The latter wants to be friends, the former begins to build up a resentment. "Enjoy" seems like the wrong word for a book like this, but I really liked it; Larsen uses the techniques of modernist prose to her advantage, and the book builds up some interesting complexities and sharply observed moments before a highly effective ending.

Passing by Nella Larson is a 1929 publication.

This short novel really packs a punch and could put any current day psychological author to the test. Set in the Harlem Renaissance, the story is centered around two childhood friends, Irene Redfield and Clare Kendy. Both are light-skinned black women- but Irene lives in Harlem with her husband and two children, while Clare passes for white, enjoying the benefits of a society wife. Irene is proud of her heritage, while Clare felt ‘passing’ would provide with her a more comfortable life.

When the two women meet again after many years of separation, the consequences of their decisions will alter their lives in ways they never could have imagined.

This novel explores the themes of race and show more identity- subjects that are still quite relevant today. I thought this was a taut, tightly wound story in many ways. There is always an uneasy feeling humming just beneath the surface. The repercussions of living a lie, the constant fear of exposure, and the burden it places on others who are forced to keep secrets, on top of the building tensions in Irene’s marriage once Clare forcefully inserts herself into Irene’s life again, made for some disquieting and complex situations that had me holding my breath as the suspense builds to its shocking climax.

With any short story the issue of character development can be a problem for me, but in this situation the dialogue and Irene’s inner thoughts are all that is required to create plenty of complexity.

The conclusion, though deliberately ambiguous, was stunning nonetheless, and left me feeling a little numb for a while.

The novel is very well-written, thought-provoking, suspenseful and tragic. I highly recommend this incredible, timeless classic!

4.5 stars show less

A sharp, measured but intense, psychological novella about identity, told with elegance and forensic care. Two affluent black women, who knew each other as children, meet again when they are in their late thirties. Glamorous, cat-like Clare, with a “caressing smile”, lives as a white woman, while Irene is a pillar of black society and charitable works. It’s told from Irene’s point of view.
“Strangers in their ways and means of living. Strangers in their desires and ambitions. Strangers even in their racial consciousness.”

Image: Tessa Thompson and Ruth Negga in “Passing” (Source)

Clare is good at getting what she wants, and what she wants now is to have a toe in black society in NY, while retaining her white privilege in show more Chicago. In essence, Clare is a white woman who now wants to pass as black, occasionally.

Irene thinks passing is “dangerous” and “abhorrent”, but as things get complicated, she’s torn by conflicting loyalties: to her family, her friend, and her race.
“She had to Clare Kendry a duty. She was bound to her by those very ties of race, which, for all her repudiation of them, Clare had been unable to completely sever.”
Clare just floats in and out, seemingly oblivious of any difficulties.

Although the consequences of rekindling their friendship become obvious to the reader before they are to the protagonists, the way it unfolds is carefully done. Secrecy matters.
“It hurt like hell. But it didn't matter if no one knew.”

It closes with a sudden dramatic event (foreshadowed by crockery), while retaining plenty of ambiguity. If it’s a sort of karma, which transgression is it for?

Image: Black is white and white is black. (Source)

It also explores community, keeping up appearances, aspiration, social class, racism, toxic relationships, secrets, loyalty, marriage, parenting, and much more. The New York jazz age setting adds sparkle.

It was published in 1929, so black people describe themselves as colored and Negro.

About race and passing

“It’s such a frightfully easy thing to do. If one’s the type, all that’s needed is a little nerve.”
The idea of a black person “passing” as white was something I’d heard of, but given little thought to until I read Brit Bennett’s The Vanishing Half last year. The advantages are obvious, but I’d never considered the multifaceted disadvantages, especially of living one’s whole life that way. I found Bennett’s book eye-opening and explored the ideas of carving and cleaving destiny in my review, HERE.

The Vanishing Half wasn’t a bad book in isolation, but now it feels like a simulacrum of this. Where this is taut, that took the idea of girls who grew up together living as different races in adulthood, and then padded it out with box-ticking subplots.

The ease with which some people pass fits with the idea of race as a social construct, which I thought was a recent idea (see Race and society). However, Irene’s husband, Brian, suggests similar by being unable to define race. He observes that all the people he’s known who passed felt drawn back to their culture, but he doesn’t know why.
“If I knew that, I’d know what race is.”
Another time, Irene is chatting with white friend Hugh, who asks how one can tell. She says no one can tell by looking:
“I’m afraid I can’t explain. Not clearly. There are ways. But they’re not definite or tangible.”

Image: We’re so often told we can be anything if we set our mind to it, but that’s rubbish. We can change and improve ourselves and our lives, but we can’t be ANYthing. It’s a lie that leads to disappointment. (Source)

Quotes

• “Chicago. August. A brilliant day, hot, with a brutal staring sun pouring down rays that were like molten rain. A day on which the very outlines of the buildings shuddered as if in protest at the heat… Sharp particles of dust rose from the burning sidewalks, stinging the seared or dripping skins of wilting pedestrians. What small breeze there was seemed like the breath of a flame fanned by slow bellows.”

• “Between them the barrier was just as high, just as broad, and just as firm as if in Clare did not run that strain of black blood. In truth, it was higher, broader, and firmer; because for her there were perils, not known, or imagined, by those others who had no such secrets to alarm or endanger them.”

• “She wanted no empty spaces of time in which her mind would immediately return to that horror which she had not yet gathered sufficient courage to face.”

• “Christmas, with its unreality, its hectic rush, its fake gaiety, came and went.”

See also

• Rebecca Hall’s 2021 film adaptation, stars Tessa Thompson and Ruth Negga. It’s filmed in black and white, and nearly square, rather than cinematic “letterbox”, which suits the setting. See imdb HERE. (Hall’s grandfather was a black man who passed as white. See HERE.)

• Brit Bennett wrote an introduction to a recent edition of the Passing, a book she heavily borrowed from for her own novel, The Vanishing Half. See my review HERE.

• I didn’t enjoy Bernardine Evaristo’s Blonde Roots, but it makes interesting points by reversing the races in the slave trade. See my review HERE.

• Rachel_Dolezal is a white woman who passed as black and even became a chapter president of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.

• Zen Cho’s The Perilous Life of Jade Yeo features colourism and fitting in. See my review HERE.

• Toni Morrison’s Beloved. See my review HERE. show less

This book was thought-provoking, challenging, and unexpected in so many ways. More so than Quicksand, which I read over a decade ago, this novel inspired me to think about different degrees of racial passing, how Black people who don’t pass physically can pass socially, and the ways racial passing can intersect with other forms of passing. Because I saw pieces of myself in Irene’s obsession with stability and safety, the book also forced me to reflect on times when I’ve chosen to be inauthentic due to some perceived benefit. That forced self-reflection helped me have a little bit more empathy for Clare than I anticipated. All in all, my big takeaway from this story is that all forms of passing come with a cost that we can't always show more see until we're forced to pay it. show less