Take a photo of a barcode or cover
4.36 AVERAGE
4.36 AVERAGE
It is a challenge reading about history’s darkest moments. I often don’t know how to review it best, because how do you judge someone’s life experience or their personal history? Roots by Alex Haley is a book I read throughout February with a group of bloggers as part of a read along hosted by Reading Thru The Night. Roots is a fictionalized account of Haley’s family history. There are also allegations of Haley plagiarizing a book called The African, which frankly was something that sat in my mind while reading Roots.
Read the rest of my review here
Read the rest of my review here
It is too bad the last third of this book was an utter train wreck.
A true epic. An incredible and exhausting journey that was saddening, enraging, and uplifting. Though it turns out much of this story was revealed to be fiction, it still is impressive in its scale.
emotional
informative
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
One of the best stories I have ever read. One of those books you realize should be required reading. So good, so powerful, it prompted my ex-husband to warn our kids not to read it because it 'makes white people look bad" and 'slavery was worse than it really was'. And could there ever be a better recommendation than that?
A brilliant book! Alex Hailey put in a lot of effort in this book and his narrative makes your jaw drop in shock at the inhumanity of the whole slave trade. An excellent and a must!
The simplest thing to say about this novel is that it is moving. It makes you feel small in a way that doesn't upset you, but rather makes you appreciate the intricate family networks that exist and have existed to get us to where we are today. Epic stories like this one (another example being Márquez' 100 Years of Solitude) are astounding in their scope and, honestly, the story can be shitty and uneventful and I will still never fail to be impressed by the sheer size and detail of the storytelling.
Haley traces seven generations and, most emotionally, ends with himself. While the story of his parents and grandparents felt rushed at the end, the detail Haley puts into describing his research journey brought tears to my eyes. I can't possibly relate to the way he felt upon discovering his ancestral village in Africa and cementing in reality the places his (great-great-great) grandparents had spoke about in stories. He describes the feeling well and I can only hope to live my own "peak experience".
Structurally, I think this book is a great metaphor for contemporary discussions on the importance of culture. Whites are quick to dismiss slavery as a thing of the past and push it to a time long forgotten. This book reminds us that that simply isn't the case. First, by ritualizing the story of Kunta's life as something that is passed down to each generation without fail, we see how one's past can influence one's present both in life and in literature. The stories of the first pages of the novel resound nearly 800 pages later. Replace those pages with years, and we see how futile it is to relegate the history of slavery to the mildew-ridden pages of a history book.
I also enjoyed hearing a chronology of America from the eyes of generations of slaves. As history is oft written by the winners, as Haley himself points out, adding this lens de-romanticizes the concept of the 1800s South. Today, we also hear white people speak of their history and the pride they feel for it. Reading this text, I felt no pride. I grappled with this especially, given that a large part of the story takes place on plantations in North Carolina, my home state. In a way, Alex Haley's history intersects with my own, a feeling that is at once surreal and penetrating. I think it becomes important to distinguish the feeling of awe at acknowledging the timelessness of our existence with pride for the actions of our ancestors. These two are not mutually exclusive and I believe the former frequently gets misappraised as the latter. It is indisputable, as is made clear by Haley's own story in the last chapter, that the feeling of the hands of the past reaching through your ancestors to touch you in the present day, is singular and incredible. However, that does not need to be colored by a naive pride in actions that are more than reprehensible.
Finally, I think this text -- with a bit of interpretation and analysis -- effectively elaborates the traces of racism that persist in modern institutions. What it has lost in explicit racism, America retains in implicit racism. Once Tom and his family was freed by the actions of Abraham Lincoln, it is painfully clear that this change is one of almost nominal importance. Their freedom is not directional as it may seem. The use of the word from in the phrase 'freedom from bondage' implies that these people had somewhere to go upon receiving their freedom. However, that was not the case. Having to rebuild their lives from the ground up with tools they (literally in Tom's case) had to make themselves, we imagine this family as lucky in being able to successfully become prominent citizens and secure education for their children. But what of the people who were not so lucky? What of their descendants? It is the repercussions felt by these individuals that we refer to when we talk about structural racism. Keep in mind, the transition for this family was occurring in the early 1900s. While it may seem distant, it is only deceivingly so. Much like 800 pages seems like a large book, it's only once you read it that you're faced with how small that number really is.
Much like therapy, books only work if you let them. But it can be said that even with a minimum of openness, Haley's saga has enough power in itself to inspire and influence any reader.
Haley traces seven generations and, most emotionally, ends with himself. While the story of his parents and grandparents felt rushed at the end, the detail Haley puts into describing his research journey brought tears to my eyes. I can't possibly relate to the way he felt upon discovering his ancestral village in Africa and cementing in reality the places his (great-great-great) grandparents had spoke about in stories. He describes the feeling well and I can only hope to live my own "peak experience".
Structurally, I think this book is a great metaphor for contemporary discussions on the importance of culture. Whites are quick to dismiss slavery as a thing of the past and push it to a time long forgotten. This book reminds us that that simply isn't the case. First, by ritualizing the story of Kunta's life as something that is passed down to each generation without fail, we see how one's past can influence one's present both in life and in literature. The stories of the first pages of the novel resound nearly 800 pages later. Replace those pages with years, and we see how futile it is to relegate the history of slavery to the mildew-ridden pages of a history book.
I also enjoyed hearing a chronology of America from the eyes of generations of slaves. As history is oft written by the winners, as Haley himself points out, adding this lens de-romanticizes the concept of the 1800s South. Today, we also hear white people speak of their history and the pride they feel for it. Reading this text, I felt no pride. I grappled with this especially, given that a large part of the story takes place on plantations in North Carolina, my home state. In a way, Alex Haley's history intersects with my own, a feeling that is at once surreal and penetrating. I think it becomes important to distinguish the feeling of awe at acknowledging the timelessness of our existence with pride for the actions of our ancestors. These two are not mutually exclusive and I believe the former frequently gets misappraised as the latter. It is indisputable, as is made clear by Haley's own story in the last chapter, that the feeling of the hands of the past reaching through your ancestors to touch you in the present day, is singular and incredible. However, that does not need to be colored by a naive pride in actions that are more than reprehensible.
Finally, I think this text -- with a bit of interpretation and analysis -- effectively elaborates the traces of racism that persist in modern institutions. What it has lost in explicit racism, America retains in implicit racism. Once Tom and his family was freed by the actions of Abraham Lincoln, it is painfully clear that this change is one of almost nominal importance. Their freedom is not directional as it may seem. The use of the word from in the phrase 'freedom from bondage' implies that these people had somewhere to go upon receiving their freedom. However, that was not the case. Having to rebuild their lives from the ground up with tools they (literally in Tom's case) had to make themselves, we imagine this family as lucky in being able to successfully become prominent citizens and secure education for their children. But what of the people who were not so lucky? What of their descendants? It is the repercussions felt by these individuals that we refer to when we talk about structural racism. Keep in mind, the transition for this family was occurring in the early 1900s. While it may seem distant, it is only deceivingly so. Much like 800 pages seems like a large book, it's only once you read it that you're faced with how small that number really is.
Much like therapy, books only work if you let them. But it can be said that even with a minimum of openness, Haley's saga has enough power in itself to inspire and influence any reader.
The remake of the TV miniseries prompted my interest in the book. I wouldn't have considered reading it, but a friend recommended the book over the series and I've had a renewed interest in stories of slavery (thanks to Sharon Draper's Copper Sun). This is the story of an American family, from the African kidnapped and sold into slavery to his descendant, the man who wrote the book. More than half the book follows Kunta Kinte, from birth to the selling of his daughter. That break in the narrative is a little jarring, but from there it becomes more of a generational saga. It reminds me of One Hundred Years of Solitude, only more engaging and readable. While the narrative of each individual is strong and unique (each characters is their own person, fleshed out so superbly), I think the real strength of the story is in the overall history. This is the story of America, one we often shy away from. It might have been stronger to see the detailed narrative continue through the Jim Crow era and the civil rights movement, but it is what it is. The ending, focusing on how Alex Haley pulled the story together, also feels like a bit of a pittering out. After 850 pages I would have preferred a more traditional ending, and left that stuff for an afterword. But it does cap a powerful story about how American came to be what it is today.
Tom. Chicken George. Kizzy. Kunta Kinte. All of these are names that until recently had only legendary meaning to me. Now they are personal. Inspirational. Transformative. I've just finished reading Roots and my eyes were moist more than once digesting it. I am old enough to recall the national stir the miniseries caused in 1977, but I more interested in the next episode of the muppet show at the time; I was so young. The import and gravity of the biography was lost on my young mind. But not now. Today this book has opened my eyes and widened my vision in ways I didn't realize it would. It's incredible how the tradition of the griot and the power of the written word combined here in some 800 pages, reached back into the 18th century and fired a shot of knowledge into the future. I'm still floored at how I missed all the talk about the story but I'm glad I did. Because I was able to enjoy Alex Haley's work fresh and new as I'm sure those who've already read it cannot. They would rejoin the story as an old friend who wants to rehash old times. For me it's a novel of new adventures, trials, obscenities and heartaches that I've never fully understood before. A perspective on American history from the perspective of black folk, which is a perspective I've lived but didn't see in the media. In other words I didn't see myself written about in such a loving, painful and honest way before Roots. It's my story as much as yours. And his. And hers. And theirs.
I knew that La Var Burton was and is a tremendous actor. But I knew him only from Reading Rainbow and Star Trek. How little I knew. And I also assumed that Kunta was the only character of note in the epic. But, if I may make the bad comparison, it is a bit like thinking that Bilbo is the only Hobbit of worth. Kunta, was only the beginning. And that is true of all of our families histories. Mine didn't begin in Tennessee with the barely recorded birth of my grandfather, but it's about as much as I know. Or knew, until yesterday when I too began to learn the history of my family. If there is nothing else that I can say about Roots, it is this:
Roots is not just a family saga. It is in fact an intimate look into my history as a black American. It is a deep delving into the spirit of why we survive when logic says to stop. Why faith carries us through. And why family is the life blood of us all both literally and figuratively. I leave this novel inspired and transformed. I more than highly recommend it. I insist upon it that if you've the patience to read it as I did, or the time to listen to it (audio book fans unite), or nestle up on the sofa and have your best household reader narrate it for you or even watch the film (again, I didn't see it but I assume it good too), then please digest this for yourself. It's just that important.
I knew that La Var Burton was and is a tremendous actor. But I knew him only from Reading Rainbow and Star Trek. How little I knew. And I also assumed that Kunta was the only character of note in the epic. But, if I may make the bad comparison, it is a bit like thinking that Bilbo is the only Hobbit of worth. Kunta, was only the beginning. And that is true of all of our families histories. Mine didn't begin in Tennessee with the barely recorded birth of my grandfather, but it's about as much as I know. Or knew, until yesterday when I too began to learn the history of my family. If there is nothing else that I can say about Roots, it is this:
Roots is not just a family saga. It is in fact an intimate look into my history as a black American. It is a deep delving into the spirit of why we survive when logic says to stop. Why faith carries us through. And why family is the life blood of us all both literally and figuratively. I leave this novel inspired and transformed. I more than highly recommend it. I insist upon it that if you've the patience to read it as I did, or the time to listen to it (audio book fans unite), or nestle up on the sofa and have your best household reader narrate it for you or even watch the film (again, I didn't see it but I assume it good too), then please digest this for yourself. It's just that important.