Terrapin Station

The books that ate my weekend

First, I read Prognosis: A Memoir of My Brain by  Sarah Vallance. This is in the Amazon First Reads series, pre-publication books that are available early to Kindle Unlimited readers. 

It's incredibly well written and fascinating. Sarah is a difficult person with a tremendously troubled family life, which surely contributes to her attitudes and actions. Her triumph over traumatic brain injury is amazing and fascinating.

What, then, to read next? 

I had picked up Tomb of the Unknown Racist by Blanche McCrary Boyd from the local library's New Acquisitions shelf. The jacket flap indicated that this was the third book in a trilogy, but each could stand on their own.

I checked it out and then, listening to an inner voice, read the other two on Kindle first. It was the right choice. 

None of this is light or easy reading, but it is fascinating and compelling. Violence, sexual politics, Southern heritage and that form of racism learned at the breast, all resounded for me. 

The Revolution of Little Girls

sets up the story and characters.  Time turns and curves in this novel, and I found myself moving around and back. Ellen Burns, the protagonist, has much in common with author Boyd. 

Terminal Velocity

shows Ellen in the next phase of her life, a passionate and dangerous series of events including a radical feminist commune. 

 

Finally, Tomb of the Unknown Racist explodes into exploration of white supremacist action in America today. It's a finalist for the Pen/Faulkner award and a great candidate. 

This book will horrify you, scare you, and amaze you. Through binge-reading these books, I've come to care about Ellen and this story. Racism has many sides and I think that we who are called white can profitably examine our own complicity through fiction, as well as in other ways. 

In addition, Sarah Vallance and Blanche Boyd are openly lesbian authors, as is Ellen is as a character. Lesbian fiction doesn't always come across my path, and as a cis-het woman I'm not usually looking for it. Reading these four books in sequence gave me a bit of an extended experience, also valuable in terms of cognitive dissonance. 

 

 

My community is praying

My community is praying. 

A two year old is missing from his apartment. He was taking a nap, his mama went to check on him, he was gone. Foul play has not been suspected so far. 

 

It's in my neighborhood; I live on Oak Street. 

Yesterday hundreds of volunteers, police from all over the area, search and rescue canines, and helicopters searched; and all night long, planes equipped with infrared sensors looked for him. 

Local social media is buzzing. Some of the comments are nasty. 

But this morning I walked those blocks, looking in places that have already been combed many times, and here is what I saw:

People praying. 

They were not kneeling or clasping their hands. It's a very diverse neighborhood with lots of faiths and no faiths represented. But every person was praying in some way. They were walking, looking, standing, talking, watching the helicopter circle. Every single one of them was thinking of Sarbesh, hoping that he will be found soon; thinking of his parents; thinking of the first responders and volunteers. 

People are praying in Denton, Texas. Please pray with us.