Completed July 2023
BELOVED
Beloved has been on my TBR list for a very, very long time. I kept hearing how incredible it was – 'a magnificent achievement', 'a masterpiece'... hell, even Margaret Atwood called it 'a triumph'. What more could you ask for?
If you guessed that introduction to be a lead up to me dismissing these accolades, well... it's not. I couldn't. They are all true. I am glad everyone told me it was amazing, but something I also wish is that someone could have mentioned how absolutely devastating it was. This was not A Little Life. I was not prepared.
Let's begin our deep dive by addressing the elephant in the room (or, rather, the ghost in the walls). This is a novel about a mother who attempted to murder her children – succeeding in one case, failing in the rest. The story behind this is teased out slowly as the plot progresses. Quite early on, I had put enough pieces together to guess the fact that it happened (not that it didn't come as a shock when it was finally explicitly put into words). The how, where and why took a bit longer, and as every fact emerged my heart was ripped open anew.
It is horrific, that is true, but the writing was hypnotic in its ability to make you sympathise with Sethe anyway. Root for a child killer, you ask? Sounds unlikely. Well, if that's what you think, try reading this book. Her characterisation was masterful, complex and painful and true. Even when she closes herself off from the reader, we are kept under her spell through the constant push and pull between present and past – whenever her actions bewilder, we are transported back to the years that explain them.
This oscillation was a fantastic literary device, as a more linear narrative would have struggled to capture the characters' trauma in a way that felt immediate and enduring rather than just a legacy of times gone by. History was happening now. It was also fitting that it was just these two tenses which were explored – present and past – with very few exceptions. If any of the cast did consider they could have a future, it was in a fleeting moment of indulgence which felt wistful and quixotic. It forces you to confront the privilege inherent in having a future worth considering.
As well as the back and forth between time periods, this book also fluctuates between clarity and obscurity. At times the narrative is straightforward, before swerving wildly into the lyrical and cryptic. At times, the narrative voice feels so delirious it's as if we have been cast into a trance, blurring the edges of consciousness. This is often when we are offered the perspective of a ghost, though, so it shouldn't come as a huge surprise.
Speaking of ghosts. The 'magical realism' tag often applied to this book is often applied as its point of difference, especially from other great American novels exploring the legacy of the slave trade. But as fascinating at this plot line was to me, I didn't find its developments particularly jarring – the otherworldly slipped into the narrative so naturally it felt, strangely, real. I actually struggled more with some of the technically feasible aspects.
This is a book about one of the most appalling periods of modern history. And some of the brutalities committed were honestly harder to reckon with than the ghost of a dead baby floating around. I have to applaud the bravado. Morrison was not holding back.
And rightly so. The question at the heart of this book is how we grapple with – and define – our humanity. The crimes committed were without question a consequence of centuries of propaganda, forcing the false dichotomy between the humans deserving of personhood and those not. One of the highlights of the book for me was how this debate raised its ugly head in both actions and words, and from the perspectives of persecuted and persecutors alike.
I will conclude by reiterating our great privilege. We are lucky to read Beloved as historical fiction. All we can do is take this masterpiece as a reminder to fight to ensure the past is where this bullshit ideology stays.
“Oh, some of them do alright by us.”
“And every time it’s a surprise, ain’t it?”