I love the way that she wrote and filled out the characters, as a longer short story with snippets from the players in a specifically horrible situation. Rest in Power. ( )

This made me so sad when I tried to read this all those years ago. I think I am going to try a different Morrison. ( )

tough read, disturbing; wonderful writing; I listened to the author narrate her book... very well done. ( )

Heartbreakingly vivid story of racism and generational trauma/abuse told through a story composed of lyrical vignettes. The writing is beautiful and moving, even as we are pushed through the lives of some very broken people. ( )

Of course, Toni certainly looks at the whole domestic cult thing with a cool, ironic eye—she doesn’t have the perspective of a white girl who lives in a Better Homes & Gardens showpiece—but despite all that there is a sort of tacit engagement with all that, since it’s not about the blood of battle, but the blood of menstruating girls, you know.

It’s like the irony of the blues: singing about things that make you sad make you happy, since life makes you sad but singing makes you happy. It’s like how, if you’re a white girl like me, and you’re not very romantic but you’re having a good day, you might sing the song “Ironic” (“it’s like ray-ay-ayn, on your wedding day”), not because you’re in a bad mood but because you’re in a good mood. You just don’t like Sally kissed Harry songs. It’s like what the Abraham beings say in the Hicks books: you want to ascent to the top of the scale of feelings, but you can’t reach the top from the bottom, not directly, so you go up bit by bit. It’s like the Universe made a ladder.

…. I’m not a strict Abraham person, you know. Although it is true that happiness is desirable, and usually the history boys’ way of being—trawling through the archives, ranking the massacres— is not, sometimes to let the joy in you have to let some of life’s ordinary suffering wash over you, like you at the beach or something.

…. And sometimes to be happy you have to confront your shame, whether racial or familial.

…. (cf the most fantastic and the most logical request, letter to God, etc) Although it’s obviously not intended to be humor, like, say, “Me Talk Pretty One Day”, it is surely a sort of comedy not defined by humor and laughing, like if “The Glass Castle” were a novel about Black girls, this would be it.

…. “And that’s the story of how I lost my mind, you know.”

—(rocking back and forth in the hospital bed) I miss my mind. I wonder if I could ever get back my…. I hurted her, you know; I hurt girlie. I wonder if I’m Hitler. That would explain why I hurted her. Let me examine my face; see if there’s a mustache that grew spontaneously….. No, maybe I’m not Hitler. I could be dead. That would explain things too; I’ve gone on to the next life…. Or I could just be a nut. Maybe that’s it. I hurted her, though. I hurted girlie. (rocks back and forth) I wonder how she feels now.

—I can’t share another client’s case history with you, Hermes.

(in another room) (exulting in a sick way) My eyes are blue! They’re blue! They really are! They REALLY are! (laughing like a nut) Don’t you think I have the bluest eyes?

(not really, no) I’m not your therapist; you can talk about that with them. I’m just here to ask you what you want to have for lunch. (hands paper) These are the options, but the chef can make something special for you if you want.

—The bluest eyes! The BLUEST eyes!

(yeah, about that) Or we can just select something for you, and hope you eat it, girl.

~~ I almost wish I had brown eyes instead of green ones. (I say that Now lol.) It would be more democratic, you know. Brown eyes are the eyes of democracy. I could become a politician, win votes….

But fortunately, it’s not an obsession. 😸 👀