Reviews tagging 'Child death'

The Cost of Knowing by Brittney Morris

30 reviews

betweentheshelves's review against another edition

Go to review page

emotional sad tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

Apparently, heavy books are the theme of my recent picks. Because man, this was another heavy book. But also so well done. After the death of their parents, Alex has been doing his best to take care of himself and his brother Isaiah. That's hard though, when he gets visions of everything he touches. Everything changes when he gets a vision of Isaiah's death.

This is a book about Black boys who have to grow up too fast and white people who don't think they're racist. Morris's take with the visions felt really unique and added to the overall discussions happening in the book. My only complaint is that at times, Alex's explanations of his visions felt a little repetitive. But everything else was spot on.

Expand filter menu Content Warnings

nicknelson07's review against another edition

Go to review page

emotional hopeful inspiring sad tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5


Expand filter menu Content Warnings

theasbookworld's review against another edition

Go to review page

challenging dark emotional hopeful inspiring reflective tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Plot
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 Thrilling, heartbreaking page-turner.

I listened to the audiobook narrated by Kevin R. Free and I just flew though it since I found it hard to put down and always wanted to know what happened next. 

Expand filter menu Content Warnings

booksthatburn's review against another edition

Go to review page

dark emotional funny reflective sad tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

THE COST OF KNOWING is about the time stolen from young Black men who don't get to be Black boys, torn between fear of the future and dread of the past while trying not to miss the present. 

This is gripping and immersive, the recursive cadence of Alex's visions as he attempts to get through his day disrupt his peace and raise his anxiety while creating a very distinctive feeling in the text. Alex thinks a lot about the way he's grown up, how much he doesn't feel like a man but he also doesn't get to be a kid, be a teenager. It's obvious how much the way he treats his brother as the plot takes off is driven by a desire to let Isaiah actually be a kid, to not have to shoulder the burdens he has. 

The interstitials at first seemed like an odd start to a book, but by the time I saw those simple lines for the last time they filled me with dread. The brevity and starkness reveal how those characters see themselves, set against the emotion-drenched detail of the rest of the story as we learn how Alex sees them when he thinks of them at all. I don't mean to be coy, I just don't want to spoil what the interstitials are or who they're describing, since I think that realization is important, whether you know immediately or it takes all the way until the end. 

The ending is perfect for this book. I wanted things to be different for the characters I'd gotten to know, but the book never tricked me and I could see (and dread) it coming from far away. It slowly changes from knowing the inevitable and doing things anyway, to not letting fear of what seems inevitable keep you from living. My attempts to describe the point feel flimsy, and the only succor I can offer is that if I have intrigued you, you should read this book. Read this story of Black boy joy and grief amidst it all, because waiting until it's over means missing everything.

Expand filter menu Content Warnings

leahjanespeare's review against another edition

Go to review page

3.0

This is an excellent book, I just recognized I am not the target audience. Highly recommend it for this genre. Contemporary social issues with a twist of the paranormal, pretty cool take.

Expand filter menu Content Warnings

daniellestarredpages's review against another edition

Go to review page

challenging emotional hopeful inspiring sad tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

Read my review here:
http://starredpages.com/2021/04/12/book-review-the-cost-of-knowing/

Expand filter menu Content Warnings

offonmyown's review against another edition

Go to review page

challenging emotional hopeful reflective sad medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0


Expand filter menu Content Warnings

perpetualpages's review against another edition

Go to review page

challenging dark emotional hopeful mysterious tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

CWs: anxiety, panic attacks, death/child death/parental death, grief, racism, brief mentions of suicidal ideation and self-harm, allusions to a suicide attempt, police brutality, references fo slavery and rape, and mass shooting

Brittney Morris has done it once again. She has written an incredible novel that is very much needed and that offers an outstretched hand to Black youth, especially—one that's all wrapped up in emotion and catharsis. This is a challenging book, and may certainly prove to be a hard one to bear witness to for some readers, but it is unflinching in both its truth and its hope.

This is a hard-hitting contemporary story with a surrealist edge in how its protagonist has the ability to see the future of anyone he touches. While it might seem like knowing the future is an empowering ability, it actually has the opposite effect on Alex and makes him feel powerless under the weight of the future's inevitability, especially when he sees his own brother's death.

To me, this ability was a powerful allegory for how Black youth—and young Black men, specifically—bear the weight of knowing the systemic pain that awaits them in this world. To be a young Black man in America is, in some ways, to accept the possibility of your own death and the death of those you love before it even happens—and what is that if not "predicting the future" based on what's been proven in the past?

So not only is this story an exploration of that grave injustice, but it's also about Alex reconnecting with his brother and his loved ones, realizing that he can either succumb to the despair of knowing that his brother won't survive, or he can try and find moments of joy in the time they have left together. In some ways, it's also about how joy in the face of oppression is a radical act, and a way of reclaiming agency over the right we all have to live and love—a right that is often forcibly taken away from Black youth at too young an age.

The story also challenges concepts of toxic masculinity, especially in how it explores power and powerlessness. When you're not able to control an outcome, where do you draw power from? Does it make us stronger to look away from something we know we're going to lose or to confront the fear that accompanies that loss? Over the course of the story, Alex is learning that there is no power in detaching, disassociating, or even wanting to lash out at the world. Instead the harder work is confronting his own sadness about his situation, learning how to be unafraid in the way he loves and needs the people around him, and extracting moments of connection and joy from the pain and loss. Alex is realizing that it's okay to be afraid of the future, to be anxious, to be hurt and sad, and that doesn't mean he's failed or that he's not a man—it means he's human.

This is a powerful story about resilience, joy, and brotherhood in the face of extreme pain and loss. As Brittney Morris writes in her acknowledgements, this is very much a "Black-boy-joy despite" book, for all the Black men who are trying to be joyful and unafraid despite the world proving itself to be inhospitable to their joys and hopes. Their lives, their experiences, and their feelings matter, and this is a book that beautifully, brilliantly, and painfully makes space for those complicated feelings to exist. I can say with every confidence that this is definitely a must-read book, right alongside Brittney's stunning debut, Slay

Expand filter menu Content Warnings

dedonohoe's review against another edition

Go to review page

challenging emotional hopeful reflective sad tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

TL;DR: A tragic, gripping YA loss-of-innocence tale interwoven with multigenerational magic that demonstrates just how elusive a carefree, joyful childhood is for Black boys in America. My rating: 4 of 5 stars

After a few chapters, I had a hard time putting The Cost of Knowing down. And yet, I’m having a harder time than usual reviewing this book because the parts of the story that make it so so special feel like spoilers. But I’ll try. In the acknowledgements, Morris writes that before she could write a Black boy joy book, she had to write a “Black-boy-joy-despite book.” The Cost of Knowing is a story about two Black boy brothers (11 and 16) coping with the loss of their parents while living with their aunt in her very affluent and very white gated community in a suburb of Chicago. 

On the surface, Alex is just a grieving kid struggling to be the man of the house his father taught him to be--working his ass off for Scoop, the owner of a local ice cream shop (and still unjustly being treated like he is unreliable), to earn a paycheck and provide for the people he loves (like his girlfriend and deceased best friend’s mother, who he surreptitiously sends part of his earnings to). 

However, Alex has a secret. Ever since his parents died, he can see the future of every object or person he touches. This is not a superpower, it’s a curse. Alex spends his days trying to avoid the thousands and thousands of visions that he’s plagued by, usually without success. He lives with debilitating anxiety over the things he sees or is afraid he’ll see. One of the smallest but most heartbreaking consequences of Alex’s curse is how isolated it leaves him, starving himself and his loved ones of the healing and comforting physical touches he and they crave. Maybe it’s partially due to a year of being physically isolated due to the pandemic, but I DIED every time Alex wished he could hold his girlfriend’s hand or hug his brother. GIVE THIS BOY A HUG. Besides that, Morris also kept me in my feels with how she wrote Alex’s visions and anxiety. I could imagine how exhausting they were to experience because they were exhausting to read. 

One day Alex sees something he can’t unsee--a grave with his little brother’s name on it. With this premonition, he must decide how to spend the last few days of his brother’s life. Alex feels helpless amid thoughts of the many, many dangers that could befall a young Black boy, from a car accident, to a slippery floor, to the Karen nextdoor who bakes the boys cookies at the same time she reveals her racism with colorblind rhetoric and coded language petitioning against a Black rap artist’s performance to keep certain kinds of people out of their safe neighborhood.

Despite being somewhat estranged in the years after their parents' passing, the brothers come together and discover the secrets they’ve each been hiding and how the curse connects them to the magic of their regal ancestors in Africa. I found this part of the storyline particularly affecting given that the legacy of slavery continues to rob Black Americans of their genealogies. 

Another aspect of this story that I loved was how this trauma gives Alex the maturity and courage he needs to reject the patriarchal norms of masculinity he grew up on and step away from some of the responsibilities he felt compelled to prematurely take on. No one can give Alex, or frankly any Black boy, the childhood they deserve. But he can learn to set boundaries and prioritize his mental health. He can be open about his feelings and nourish and be nourished in meaningful relationships. He can relish joy wherever he creates it or finds it. His feelings matter.

This story lost a star for me due to my frustration over one plot point. In the days leading up to when he expects his brother’s death, Alex wants to give his brother happy and fun final days. However, in connection with the curse, he’s also set on forcing both himself and his brother to face their worst fears. These motives felt contradictory to me, and I don’t feel like that contradiction was acknowledged or reconciled as Alex vacillated between these conflicting desires.

Also, read the acknowledgements. They’re as beautiful as the story.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster Children's Publishing for giving me advance access to this book in exchange for an honest review.

Expand filter menu Content Warnings

ktdakotareads's review against another edition

Go to review page

emotional reflective medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0


Expand filter menu Content Warnings
More...