The Help: A Review

The Help by Kathyrn Stockett,, set in the early 1960s, explores the racial divide between the black domestic help and the white households they serve. Written from the perspectives of three very different women - Skeeter, a young white woman fresh out of college; Aibileen, an older black maid whose wisdom is rivaled only by her heart; and, Minny, a young black maid who takes no crap from anyone except her husband Leroy - the story weaves together their lives and the risks they're willing to take to make a difference.

Skeeter is intelligent and different than most of her southern belle friends. She's unmarried and possesses a desire to do something with her life, though her mother would prefer her to become the next Housewife of Jackson instead. As she resumes playing bridge in the homes of her friends waited on by their help, Skeeter realizes she can no longer stay ambivalent about the world around her. Nostalgic for the black maid who raised her and suddenly disappeared, though it is seemingly only Skeeter who doesn't know where she is or why she's gone and no one will tell her, Skeeter believes there's a story to be told about the life of black 'help' in Jackson, Mississippi.

Through her work at the local paper writing a domestic advice column, she strikes up a semi-friendship with, Aibileen, the maid of a friend of hers. Initially, Aibileen provides the answers to common household cleaning questions, though Skeeter gets around to asking her to help write the story she wants to tell. Resistant but forever changed by the loss of her son and from a lifetime of raising white babies, Aibileen agrees. Along the way, she brings her friend Minny - who`s been fired from almost every house she`s worked in - into the fold. Even Minny, who infamously can`t hold her tongue, is initially reluctant to help out on the book, but she sees the future of her black children being no different than her present if she doesn`t. Hiding from the world around them, the three woman work together despite the risk to each of their lives to tell the real story of what it`s like working for white women in the southern US in 1962.

As the book unfolded, I found myself keenly interested in how it would all play out. I was eager to find out, good or bad, what would become of these women if, once the book was finished. The Help certainly played up the household life that was in the 1960s, the outward segregation of white and black inside the home while reflecting the quiet intimacy that also existed between some white families and their maids. There is quite a bit of juxtaposition throughout Stockett`s writing, including the blatant irony in how white women trusted their black maids to feed, bathe and raise their white babies while refusing to let them eat at the same table or use the same toilets.

I`d like to say that this behaviour is of a time passed, but unfortunately not. There may no longer be the same inequality between black and white as there was then, but discriminations in many a form live on. In fact, as the pages turned I found myself thinking about how too many states still do not allow gay and lesbian marriage and wondering when I will read a book that reflects back on this as a bygone era. Sadly, that won`t be soon enough. But I digress.

I did find the story of the racial inequality interesting and well laid out with a good balance of truth, humour and sadness. Though I was most struck by a realization Skeeter has near the end that was less about black and white and more about people in general. In conversation with another white woman with whom she`s acquainted but never really known, Skeeter suddenly sees how alike they are even though on the surface they seem to live very different lives. I re-read those sentences a couple of times letting them sink in, realizing that`s what I enjoyed so much about the book and it`s reflection on life. Whether black or white, old or young, gay or straight, university or life educated, employed or not, we`re all just women living our lives trying to do and be the best we can. Why we have such difficulty seeing that in the world around us is hard to fathom.

I also thoroughly enjoyed the characters in the book, particularly the three main characters. They`re heartwarming, likeable, and real. You feel for them as they undertake the biggest risk of their respective lives and root for their courage. They make you remember that we can all make a difference in some way if we so choose. I also enjoyed how the story unfolded in a way that most novels about segregation don`t, steering away from the usual violence. With only subtle references to the realities of segregation in the 1960s, The Help takes place quietly in kitchens around Jackson where words are whispered and some semblance of so-called politeness is attempted to be upheld. It makes for a different, perhaps more feminine, view of the change that`s gonna come.

One of our book club`s summer reads that came highly recommended to me, I can happily highly recommend to you in return.

Sarah's Key - A Book Review

I'm off to my book club gathering this evening. I'm quite looking forward to it, as who knows when I'll get time to read a book after the baby comes. Fortunately, reading the book every time isn't a pre-requisite for our group (as long as you keep in mind that spoilers will be part of the discussion should you plan to read/finish it). Given I did read this month's selection, Sarah's Key by Tatiana De Rosnay, I thought I'd share my thoughts on the book.

The books opens in Paris, July 1942 where a young Jewish girl, Sarah, and her family are arrested by the French Police as part of what was called the Vel' d'Hiv' roundup during the Holocaust. Jewish families throughout the area were corralled into a large stadium and retained with limited food, water and medical supplies before being transferred to holding camps and eventually Auschwitz. Unaware of the gravity of what was about to unfold, Sarah locked her brother in a secret cupboard just before the arrest thinking he'd be safe and that she would be back to get him. Fast forward to Paris 2002, and the story continues as an American journalist, Julia, living in Paris and married to a Parisian, is covering the 60th anniversary of the event. Through her research, she discovers a family secret that connects to Sarah. The story unfolds alternating between both Sarah and Julia's perspectives.

I have always enjoyed historical fiction of such events. There's something about reading a story that you know captures a time in history through fictional characters while still providing an accurate depiction of what would have happened. I also enjoy autobiographies for similar reasons, though often much harder to read as I can't step back from the reality that was this person's life. The fictional approach allows me a different lens.

I was immediately gripped by Sarah's story and pulled into her tragic tale, wanting to read more, know more and follow her through her journey. Without spoiling it, I wanted to know how she would survive the unfathomable circumstances that were now her life. I wanted to find out what became of her brother, her parents, her friends and herself. Knowing that children did live this life and there were good people amongst the hatred, I was captivated by Sarah.

And then there was Julia. For much of the book, the chapters switched back and forth between Sarah's narrative and Julia's. Julia's story, set in present time, was used to share the tragedy of the Holocaust and the French role in it from a more modern view. Unfortunately, for me Julia's narrative was something I had to live with to get to back Sarah's. Aside from offering an interesting view on the French's cultural desire to mask that which is not pretty, Julia's story felt contrived and cliche. An American living in Paris, a tumultuous marriage, a crisis, etc. Stacked page for page against Sarah's tumultuous crisis, Julia's narrative paled in comparison. I could predict what was going to happen to Julia without turning the page. Unfortunately, the book eventually got to the point where Julia became the primary voice and was the only way to find out what became of Sarah. As I was interested enough in that, I stuck it out.

Despite Julia and her half of the book, I'm glad I read it. I was unaware of the role the French played in the Holocaust and believe De Rosnay did a good job putting that forward. The read was also easy and Sarah's story page-turning. I just wish De Rosnay hadn't taken the modern day perspective. I would have preferred to find out where Sarah's future went from her view than Julia's. The reality is simply that Sarah's character and story would have been much more captivating on its own.

Annabel - Book Review

My book club meets tonight, so I thought I'd give you a quick review of this month's selection: Annabel by Kathleen Winters. Before I do, however, allow me to preface my review with some context.

My Book Club

First, I love my book club. We're a wonderful bunch of 10 women who like to get together as much, or perhaps more, for the night out, the conversation and laughter, and the good food and wine as for the literary conversation. We're a little atypical in the realm of book clubs in that we spend more time socializing than we spend talking about the plot, characters and intricacies of our most recent selection. In fact, more often than not one or two of us may not have read the book and another couple haven't finished it. I am totally ok with that. Not everyone would be, but I am.

For me, the book club gets me reading. Something I adored as a child - I used to devour books the way I now devour dark chocolate - but struggle to make time for as an adult. I get to read a selection I may not have otherwise chosen or found the time to read. Whether I talk about it ad naseum is just not as important to me. The book club also allows me to hang out with a group of women from different professional, family and personal backgrounds. I love the perspective that brings - both in discussing the book and in discussing life. And I have fun. We head out to dinner or cafes or someone's house where there is invariably great food, great wine and lots of laughter. For me, our book club works perfectly, if atypically. And given we started as a small group of about 5 and quickly grew to about 10 as others asked to join us, I'm guessing it works for the others too!

Second, I like write, but am far from an author. I like to read, but am far from a literary expert. I know what I enjoy and what I don't in a book and usually know why that is the case. Capturing that in reviewer-ese, not so much my thing. So please keep that in mind as you read my review below, or at any point in the future.

My Review
Now, onto Annabel by Kathleen Winters. Short-listed for the 2010 Scotiabank Giller Prize, here's what the book jacket had to say about what fell between the covers:

In 1968, into the beautiful, spare environment of remote coastal Labrador, a mysterious child is born: a baby who appears to be neither fully boy nor girl, but both at once. Only three people are privy to the secret -- the baby's parents, Jacinta and Treadway, and a trusted neighbour, Thomasina. Together the adults make a difficult decision: to raise the child as a boy named Wayne. But as Wayne grows to adulthood within the hyper-masculine hunting culture of his father, his shadow-self -- a girl he thinks of as Annabel -- is never entirely extinguished, and indeed is secretly nurtured by the women in his life. Haunting, sweeping in scope, and stylistically reminiscent of Jeffrey Eugenides' Middlesex, Annabel is a compelling debut novel about one person's struggle to discover the truth in a culture that shuns contradiction.

In essence, Annabel is about a baby born a hermaphrodite in rural Newfoundland and Labrador in the late sixties, growing up as a child through the 70's and into a young adult in the 80's. Even in today's world, the circumstances of his child's birth would be, unfortunately, challenging, stigmatized and misunderstood, let alone forty years ago in coastal Labrador.

Kathleen Winters does a wonderful job of capturing the nuances in her writing. While a little too prose-ish for my liking and perhaps drawn out in places (I prefer my reading to be straightforward ... have I mentioned I'm a Type A personality?) there's no discounting the detail and thought she placed into the every word on every page. Through her narrative you come to feel what the main characters must be feeling and can empathize with each, despite their varied actions.

For example, the decision is made to raise the child as a boy, Wayne and to not tell Wayne the truth, yet each of the main characters approach that choice differently. His father, Treadway, is a hunter and man of the Big Land who tries to pull out Wayne's masculinity at every turn. His mother, Jacinta, is a city girl at heart who mourns the loss of her daughter wanting to both encourage Wayne's feminine side and to keep it hidden for his own protection. The family friend, Thomasina, is the only other person to know the truth and openly calls Wayne 'Annabel' after her dead daughter, really wanting him to know about who he is. Through it all Wayne battles with both sides of himself. Still, despite wanting to hate Treadway for some of his actions, wanting badly for Jacinta to follow the truth and wanting Thomasina to cross the line even more, Winters' narrative allows you to understand them all and appreciate the basis of their individual choices.

While the heart of the book centres around sexuality in the unfolding story of Wayne, I found myself thinking less about that than I did about how the book reflects on us all as individuals, families and society. So often we all try to be something more or less, or something we're not, in the name of fitting in. From the time we're small children, we learn there are social norms to be followed, personalities that are accepted and ones that are not. Our parents encourage the norms in our behaviours, with only the best intentions at heart, to help us encounter less adversity as we grow. Wayne and his family were no different. A choice was made that his family believed would make life easier for him. As a child, even knowing something was different, Wayne conformed. Society has expectations and, sadly, it is easier to fit them than fight them.   

Through Wayne's character development, I found myself reflecting on how important it is to be ourselves. To allow, and encourage, our loved ones to do the same. To play our role in society by not judging and forcing our views on others. Eventually, many of us find that true self but, as was the case with Wayne, it is often not until much later and after much heartache. For Wayne, it came gradually and hit home when he was on a Boston college campus realizing he finally 'fit in', but that was only when 'fitting in' meant being as different as everyone around him. It doesn't have to be that way. We don't have to wait to 'find ourselves'.

I think this was why my favourite character throughout the book was Wally, Wayne's childhood friend. Wally knew who she was as a young girl. She didn't care what others thought of her and that confidence made her popular until 'mean girl' syndrome of her classmates kicked it. Even then, Wally didn't care. She loved to sing, sang incessantly and had a dream of singing opera. Despite a childhood accident that ruined her voice, she held onto that dream in her heart. She followed it to Boston where she lived with her Aunt, who encouraged and supported her. In the face of adversity, doubt, and challenge, Wally lived her life true to herself and was better off for it. Perhaps that's why Wayne was so drawn to her in friendship.

Yes, there is much more to this book in terms of conflict and juxtapositioning, gender and sexuality issues, character development, and so on, but again I do not profess to be an expert reviewer. I just know what I took from it in my read and that's the two cents I'll throw in over mexican food and a virgin margarita later this evening. Overall, I enjoyed the book and the perspective and certainly recommend it to anyone looking for an interesting, well-written and thoughtful read.