Despite my argument with the four chapters we spend in the heads of Sethe, Denver and Beloved, I greatly admire Morrison’s writing and am pleased to say that it rises above even the subject matter in its presentation. By that I mean that anyone writing about slavery (the Holocaust, the slaughter of the American Indian, Iraq, Vlad of Transylvania, etc.) to include the amount and detail of inhuman acts committed against a people is bound to produce a dramatic and gripping read, but Morrison’s mastery of language and insight into character and a people as a whole takes precedence to a writer/reader.
There are several things I’ve come away with from this novel. I love the easy transitioning of time into each of the character’s pasts, and with the exception of perhaps the dumping at the end of Stamp Paid’s and the balance of Paul D’s stories, it was wonderfully well done; I imagined throughout the bulk of the novel a DNA strand, or a 6-string necklace of pearls and a spider hopping around from globe to globe of information. Putting Stamp Paid’s and Paul D’s so far to the end of the book was rather anti-climactic for me, as it seemed the story had reached climax with Sethe near off her rocker and Beloved gone in a confrontation with the town, Denver straightened out and mature, and this backstory was just the smoked cigarette.
The other thing that bothered me–as well it should as an individual–was the characters clumping all whitepeople into the category of bad. And this takes several directions: One, I felt that there had indeed been plenty of white folk helping the blacks, and two, I guess it appeared to be racist in its generalization of a people, and therefore, as stereotypical as would be the reverse. And third, I suppose, and this likely has me thinking the hardest as the first two concerns are really quite justifiable, is the way things like this put me immediately on the defensive. I didn’t keep slaves, nor did any of my family before me (nor did I kill Indians or turn in any Jews), and I certainly would never do so, and I’m tired of being held responsible. However, that brings up a whole psychological issue that forces us to face ourselves and not necessarily come up with good answers.
Had I lived in the deep South at that period of time, would I still feel as strongly as I do against slavery? It’s relatively easy to be shocked at the past when we’re safely ensconced in a much more knowledgeable and socially diverse environment, but who would we be back in that other place? Would those who felt black people were sub-human and treated them so cruelly still be that evil-acting if they had the experience of history and human rights that we have today? But then again, we see American soldiers torturing Iraqi prisoners.
What bothers me more than the ignorant slave sellers and keepers, are those who noticed that yes, the blacks were certainly different in culture and civilization in Africa hadn’t quite come up to where Europe and the Americas had progressed, but once it was obvious that they could and wanted to learn, could read and write and thus were on an equal standing with their white brothers, evilly withheld this from them. And many still tried to keep a people down a century later.
So Morrison has made me very aware of the historical theme and social consciousness in her writing as well as having great narrative structure, poetic language, and a great story in Beloved. I believe it will remain one of my favorite books.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology