What I Read: The Vanishing Half, Smoke Gets Into Your Eyes and other books I am loving this month
November is turning out to be a great reading month so in the words of the absolute bop that is Katy Perry and Snoop Dogg's California girls: "Greetings loved ones let's take a journey!"
As I mentioned in the previous edition of ‘What I Read’, I planned on finishing The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennet by the end of this year. I expected the book to take me some time to get through because most reviews I read of it, while praising the novel, warned that it was an expansive, multi-generational saga. Just the kind of book I like to take my time with and savour. However, Bennet’s second novel, and my first novel by her, did not let me do that. Just one of the great things about this novel is that while being a beautifully written literary fiction book it is a page turner that compels you to read it and then suddenly you’re on the last page with no idea what hit you.
The Vanishing Half is the story of identical, black twins, Stella and Desiree Vignes, who are light skinned enough to pass as white and so close to each other that they feel like halves of the same person. They grow up in the town of Mallard, surrounded by similarly light skinned people and a general aversion to those with darker skin. At 16, economic struggles and big dreams make them run away from home to New Orleans where they attempt to make a living for themselves. Years later, Desiree comes back to Mallard, with her dark skinned daughter, after escaping from an abusive relationship. On the other hand, Stella is passing as white, married to a white man and living a life of suburban comfort and privilege. The book goes back and forth in time to narrate the story of the twins, so alike in their looks and yet so drastically different in the life decisions they take. It goes on to follow the daughters of the sisters, one who grows up facing colourism for being dark skinned and the other who grows up white.
People thought that being one of a kind made you special. No, it just made you lonely. What was special was belonging with someone else.
Brit Bennet, The Vanishing Half (2020)
The Vanishing Half is complex in the themes it explores and Bennet does not shy away from discussing the social, economic and political disadvantage that being black in America puts one in. She explores mother-daughter relationships with nuance that makes the characters leap off the page. The women in the book feel like real people with real emotions and internal conflicts. To a great extent, The Vanishing Half is about the decisions one makes in life and their ever-lasting consequences. Stella’s decision to pass as white in order to get a better job and then consequently to lead a better life results in not only her grappling with guilt but also passes down a life of questions about identity and heritage onto her daughter. While the hole that Stella’s disappearance leaves in Desiree’s life plays a great role in the way her daughter looks at her own life.
Beyond the mother-daughter relationships, the romantic relationships in The Vanishing Half are equally real and well-fleshed. Whether it is the unusual dynamic between Desiree and Early or that between Jude (Desiree’s daughter) and Reese, Bennet explores the connections humans make throughout their life and how the effects of the past trickle into them. The idea of diversity in literature goes beyond race and gender. It includes culture, religion, ability, sexuality and lifestyle, among others. And what stands out about Bennet’s writing is the ability to give a truly diverse cast of characters in a story that is heartwarming and intriguing from start to end. There is nothing flowery about her writing but there is so much substance that it does not require extra flourishes. This book is on all the popular reading and award lists this year and I must say that I do not disagree, it deserves all the love it is getting and more. I cannot wait to read The Mothers by Bennet and hopefully love it just as much.
A body could be labeled but a person couldn’t, and the difference between the two depended on that muscle in your chest. That beloved organ, not sentient, not aware, not feeling, just pumping along, keeping you alive.
Brit Bennet, The Vanishing Half (2020)
If you follow the bookstagram community as diligently as I do, you probably are aware of the hashtag #NonfictionNovember. Of course there is no one month to read nonfiction books, but the community of booklovers have decided to dedicate one month every year solely to reading the thousands of much acclaimed nonfiction books that are released every year. I am not a reader of nonfiction, so dedicating an entire month to the genre felt like a daunting task I did not want to take on. Instead, I decided to pick up just one nonfiction book in honour of the month. I got lucky because I ended up absolutely loving Smoke Gets Into Your Eyes: And Other Stories From The Crematory by Caitlin Doughty.
Smoke Gets Into Your Eyes is Doughty’s memoir about the time she spent as a worker in a crematory and then consequently went on to study to be a mortician. It is a series of anecdotes about the rituals, ideas, thoughts and revelations that Doughty was confronted with during the course of her work dealing with the dead. But beyond that, the book is an exploration of the relationship, or lack thereof, that Americans, and many other western cultures have with death. Unlike cultures around the world that have elaborate rituals surrounding death that force those who are left behind to confront their own mortality and make their peace with it, Americans are isolated from death. The procedures of burial and cremation in the country are sterilised and distant that leads to an unhealthy relationship with the concept of mortality itself. Doughty explores this theme and tells the reader about her attempts to make the procedures more personal and educate the people about the issue.
Accepting death doesn't mean you won't be devastated when someone you love dies. It means you will be able to focus on your grief, unburdened by bigger existential questions like, "Why do people die?" and "Why is this happening to me?" Death isn't happening to you. Death is happening to us all.
Caitlin Doughty, Smoke Gets Into Your Eyes: And Other Stories From The Crematory (2015)
Yes, the book is gruesome in its descriptions. That can only be expected from the topic. But what came unexpectedly was the in-depth discussions about the capitalist nature of the procedures surrounding death in America and the author’s own contemplations about death, suicide and dead bodies. She emphasises on the need for dignity after death while also talking about the importance of the breaking of death’s reputation as the big, bad wolf. A theme that always interests me in fiction is the idea of dignified life and resuscitation, i.e., how much value is there in a life dependent on machines and medicines prolonged only through force when life, as the person knows it, is not possible. Science and technology is progressing with leaps and bounds but our understanding of mortality is getting further warped. Doughty herself talks about an acquaintance who is attempting to figure out the key to immortality and she talks about the implications of such an advancement, not only in terms of the stress it would cause on the infrastructure and its viability but also in terms of quality of life.
I am making the book sound gloomy, but for a book set mostly in crematoriums and majorly about the rituals surrounding death, a huge chunk of the book is lighthearted and in moments makes you laugh out loud. Doughty starts out as a novice in the industry grappling with the procedures and the surreality of the career she has chosen for herself and we get a sneak peek into her initial years. There are anecdotes of shaving old men and fumbling through appropriate (death) bedside etiquettes that make you forget the difficult topic being discussed and instead revel in the dark humour. Overall, the book is one of the most entertaining memoirs I have read to date. It is written in a pretty straightforward manner and keeps you hooked through all the essays and anecdotes. At the end, I was surprised by the things I had learned about death and the death industry, things that I didn’t know I really needed to know but I am glad that I do now.
Sifting through an urn of cremated remains you cannot tell if a person had successes, failures, grandchildren, felonies. “For you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Caitlin Doughty, Smoke Gets Into Your Eyes: And Other Stories From The Crematory (2015)
After reading these two very enjoyable books I moved on to some other great reads. Like every other month I am currently smack dab in the middle of around 6 books but unlike every other month I am actually enjoying all my current reads. They include A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth (I watched the show and that made me read the book again.), 1984 by George Orwell (I do not know how I have never read this book from start to finish before.), My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottesa Moshfegh (Why is reading about the woes of a privileged, white American woman in hibernation so interesting?) and Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson (The number of characters in this book is making my head turn. In a good way.). But the one that I want to talk about is Small Island by Andrea Levy.
Small Island is set in 1948. With World War II just ended, it is the story of Queenie, a white woman who, much to the chagrin of her neighbours, takes on black tenants, Hortense, a Jamaican who has just come off the ship in London to be reunited with her newly married husband expecting a life of comfort, Gilbert, one of the thousands of Jamaicans to whom civilian life as a black person in London comes as a shock after fighting for the Britishers in the war and Bernard, a Britisher in India at the tail end of the war. To a great extent, like The Vanishing Half, Small Island also deals with the impact race has on the socio-economic lifestyle of people but this book goes on to explore the consequences of colonialism focusing mainly on the first wave of Jamaican immigrants as they move to the country they were taught to think about as the ‘mother country’.
Gilbert sucked on his teeth to return this man’s scorn. “You know what your trouble is, man?” he said. “Your white skin. You think it makes you better than me. You think it give you the right to lord it over a black man. But you know what it make you? You wan’ know what your white skin make you, man? It make you white. That is all, man. White. […] listen to me, man, we both just finish fighting a war—a bloody war—for the better world we wan’ see. And on the same side—you and me. […] But still, after all that we suffer together, you wan’ tell me I am worthless and you are not.
Andrea Levy, Small Island (2005)
Racism in this book goes beyond the treatment of coloured people and immigrants from the colonies as second class citizens, it deals with the complete cluelessness of the Britishers when it comes to the countries that were their colonies. While finally fulfilling her dream of coming to London Hortense knows everything there is to know about the country she hopes to call home, however, Queenie finds it difficult to even find Jamaica on a globe. This is just one example. Levy brings to light the outlook that Britishers had of those they thought as below them just because of the colour of their skin. She discusses the fact that colour and race trumped qualification as both Hortense and Gilbert, perfectly competent and trained to work, find it hard to land a job that is worth their skills. She also brings to light the perception in the former colonies that going to the ‘mother country’ is the ultimate step that proves you have made it, a dream that was mostly dashed once faced with the realities.
Each chapter of the book is narrated from the perspective of one of the four characters. I found this an exceptionally effective way to narrate this particular book because it is not only about the story but the thought process that Levy is trying to convey. While switching between points of view, Levy had the opportunity to give the reader a closer look at the ideas of race and status that each character had. Whether it was the completely patronising manner in which Queenie thought of Hortense, the way in which Hortense thought that she was made for better things than the tiny room her husband was providing, Bernard’s casual racism in India and once he was back home or Gilbert’s struggles to lead a life of dignity as a civilian. Levy’s writing is beautiful as she talks about difficult themes with a simplicity that leaves you thinking but not grappling with information.
There are some words that once spoken will split the world in two. There would be the life before you breathed them and then the altered life after they'd been said. They take a long time to find, words like that. They make you hesitate. Choose with care. Hold on to them unspoken for as long as you can just so your world will stay intact.
Andrea Levy, Small Island (2005)
The book is not told in a straightforward timeline, she goes back and forth narrating episodes from before, during and after the war. But not once are you left questioning where in the timeline you are because she has the talent to convey time and space without overtly mentioning it. Her talent is also evident in the manner in which she puts across the feel of 1940s Jamaica. From other reviews I have read online, I get the idea that while to a reader unacquainted with the Jamaican English she has used in chapters revolving around Gilbert and Hortense the language is difficult to understand, others say that Levy got it just right. And though I got the feeling that the parts set in India were slightly heavy-handed, I cannot complain because Levy makes it extremely clear that the descriptions are through the lens of Bernard and hence, heavily biased. I have just a little more of the book left and I have to say I am really enjoying it.
These are three books that I really enjoyed this month and with 10 more days to go before the month comes to an end I hope to finish a few more great picks along with the ones I am currently in the middle of. A few potential reads include The Far Field by Madhuri Vijay and The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams. I’ll keep you updated on how I like them. See you on the other side. And happy reading!
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