“Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.”
If you haven’t yet read Toni Morrison’s Beloved, this is your sign. The Pulitzer Prize winner is set just after the American Civil War and chronicles the story of a tragedy-stricken family of formerly enslaved people whose home is plagued by a hostile ghost. Like all of Morrison’s novels, Beloved is transformative and transportive, composed of hauntingly stunning prose and interlaced with symbolically rich and strikingly purposeful magical realism.
As the first African American woman to win the Nobel Prize in Literature, and arguably one of the most influential figures in the history of American literature, Morrison’s stories consistently provide an in-depth, unadulterated perspective of the lives and experiences of Black Americans, especially Black women. In a society fraught with injustice, Morrison’s characters seek self-liberation and self-realization, struggling to embrace their cultural identity. Her works reflect her childhood experiences growing up in the American Midwest with a family that constantly expressed an appreciation for Black culture through storytelling, songs and folktales. Morrison intricately weaves these elements into her novels, reflecting both the value and impact of Black culture, as well as recontextualizing them to make powerful societal and political commentary.
Morrison was among the few American authors who received both positive critical and commercial recognition. Not only did her novels frequent the New York Times Bestsellers list, but they are also often the subject of analytical studies and on the required reading lists for students from high school to graduate school.
My first introduction to African American literature was Morrison’s Song of Solomon in high school, and I have since read countless other books for both personal enjoyment and as part of the syllabus for courses to complete my English major at UCLA. From the perspective of a student, her mastery of the novel medium and her command of language is unparalleled, and her artistic voice entirely unique. Recently, I read The Bluest Eye for an American literature course, and I found myself capable of analyzing her symbolic utilization of a single color for multiple pages; her ability to imbue the color of a shirt, shoes or hair ribbons with implications ranging from racial injustice to a simple means of characterization is endlessly awe-inspiring. That said, reading her work for personal enjoyment or fulfillment offers a potentially more unique and rewarding experience. Morrison’s uncanny ability to emotionally captivate her audience, to instill them in the vivid world and intricate psyche of her characters, renders the impact of her storytelling all the much more effective. By establishing such a strong connection between the reader and the story, she immerses her audience in African American culture and intimately relays the ceaseless struggles and triumphs of African Americans throughout American history.
Whether it’s through a class or simply by picking up one of her books at the local bookstore or library, I definitely recommend reading Morrison’s work this Black History Month and beyond. Her novels are unparalleled on countless fronts: her mastery of prose, her ability to convey the intricacies and struggles of Black American life and her command over the narrative form, to simply name a few.