Jesmyn Ward

Jesmyn Ward

Adult nonfiction and fiction
"...They sold dope between jobs until they could find more work
as a convenience store clerk or a janitor or a landscaper. This was
like walking into a storm surge: a cycle of futility. Maybe he looked
at those who still lived and those who'd died, and didn't see much
difference between the two; pinioned beneath poverty and history and
racism, we were all dying inside. Maybe in his low moments, when he
was coming down the coke, he saw no American dream, no fairy-tale
ending, no hope. Maybe in his high moments, he didn't either..."
I discovered Jesmyn Ward, or more accurately, her writing, at a
Friends of the Orono Public Library book sale. Her memoir, Men We
Reaped, quoted above, was in the huge stack of books I "earned" by
volunteering. It was an eye opener. In a span of four years she had
lost five men she was close to including a cousin and her only
brother. The lens through which she conveyed her life was those
deaths and the conditions that made them pretty much inevitable.
A couple of years later I stumbled across The Fire This Time, an
anthology of stories Ward had conceived of, edited, and contributed
to. She had been pregnant when Trayvon Martin had been shot, coming
back from a convenience store where he'd bought Skittles and a soft
drink, by George Zimmerman. It bothered her deeply that Trayvon, the
victim, still a teen, was crucified in the court of social media,
portrayed as an adult thug. She had reached out to other authors of
color to see how the perceived the incident and its aftermath and
brought together a collection of really amazing pieces.
I knew that Ward wrote fiction. I was intending to get my hands
on her writing in that genre some day. I knew it would be amazing.
Grad school has a way of shredding good intentions. But when the
pandemic shredded grad school at least temporarily I ordered two of
her novels from Bangor Public Library. That was when I learned just
how magical her writing is. She has the ability to transform
privileged white readers (like me) to a world most of us could never
imagine--a world in which a boy helps his grandfather kill and
eviscerate a goat to put meat on the table, teens conduct ilicit dog
fights, and people have only family and neighbors to count on in the
aftermath of a hurricane-- and make it come to life.
Sing, Unburied, Sing is told alternately through three
viewpoints--2 living and one spectral. Jojo, 13, lives with his
grandparents, mother, and little sister. His grandmother is in the
final stages of terminal cancer. His mother, Leoni, has drug problems
and a tendency to act impulsively. Kayla is still a toddler. Pop,
his grandfather, is struggling to hold the family together.
One day Leoni gets the news she's been waiting for. Michael,
the children's father, calls her from prison to tell her he's getting
out.
"Michael's been in jail three years now, three years, two
months. And ten days. They gave him five with the possibility of
early release. The possibility's real now. Present. Shaking. My
insides are shaking."
Leonie decides that she, the children, and her close friend,
Misty, will drive to Parchmam to bring Michael home. It's anything
but an ordinary road trip. There are drug dealings on the way. Kayla
becomes deathly sick, throwing up when she isn't sleeping. And
Michael isn't the only passenger they pick up.
Salvage The Bones is told from the viewpoint of Esch, a teen who
is pregnant by a boy who has no intentions of being a father. Her own
father is caught up with preparations for the big hurricane he sees as
barelling down on them. The scepticism of family and friends who
think it will peter out before it gets near them does not deter him.
Brother Skeetah's pride and joy is his pit bull China, the dog
he engages in hidden illicit dog fights. She's just had her first
litter. When one puppy dies, Skeetah has reason to believe the other
dogs are in jeopardy. He's on his own. Vetinarian care is not an
option.
Esch's father loses three fingers in an accident. It's up to
his four kids to finish the hurricane preparations.
And the hurricane en route is Katrina.
Read any of Ward's books you can get your hands on. Starting
one is like jumping into the Maine ocean in March. It sucks the
breath right out of you. But if you stick with it it will move you to
feel and think in new ways. And you won't want to put it down.
On a purrrsonal note, after a week of my foot not improving from too
much walking in inadequate sneakers I am spending time elevating and
icing it, a practice approved by my advanced EMT son. Thank goodness
for books to make staying off my feet less maddening!
And speaking of books, I am getting ready for the second peak, for if
libraries close again. Yard sales and thrift shops. I have over a
dozen volumes including some really long Stephen King novels. By the
time my birthday rolls around (September 21, same as Mr. King) I will
be stocked. So you will continue to be able to access my reviews.
(Jules)
My hooman keeps lying around. Her foot hurts. Good thing she has me
to take care of her. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to--hey Tobago, who should we honor?
(Jules)
The good hoomans who adopt cats and give them loving homes. It's
kitten season. Lots of cute little bundles of sweetness out there.
You can't buy love, but you can rescue it. (Tobago)


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