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A review by lattelibrarian
The Mother by Yvvette Edwards
4.0
"My empathy is matched by my anger, which wants to insist on more from him yet is frustrated by his fragility, the acute sense of attacking a helpless creature, which in turn fuels the rage that I have been made to be wrong in this, wrong to expect anything at this time from my husband; my husband!"
Marcia's 16-year-old son has been murdered. And now, she must sit in the court room and look her son's killer in the eye: another 16-year-old boy. How could he have committed such a cold act? Why him? Why her son? And just who really is Sweetie, the girl both boys had eyes for, and what does she have to do with this case?
As Marcia grapples with these questions, wondering about the impact of locking up another black boy but seeing no other method for justice, she also struggles maintaining her home life. Her relationship with her husband is in shambles, she's losing her hair, her anger bubbles up at unseemly times. Her son's justice is in the hands of complete strangers, so she is at a loss for what to do on any level of her life.
Written in an introspective, nearly morose tone of voice, Edwards' depiction of such a horrific event rings true and authentic. Edwards weaves threads in her tale, further encapsulating topics such as police brutality and teenage sexuality that show that even though her son is not a character, he had life, and his absence is sorely missed by the reader. He is a ghost, but always at the forefront of the text. Truly a beautiful book about love, loss, and motherhood.
Marcia's 16-year-old son has been murdered. And now, she must sit in the court room and look her son's killer in the eye: another 16-year-old boy. How could he have committed such a cold act? Why him? Why her son? And just who really is Sweetie, the girl both boys had eyes for, and what does she have to do with this case?
As Marcia grapples with these questions, wondering about the impact of locking up another black boy but seeing no other method for justice, she also struggles maintaining her home life. Her relationship with her husband is in shambles, she's losing her hair, her anger bubbles up at unseemly times. Her son's justice is in the hands of complete strangers, so she is at a loss for what to do on any level of her life.
Written in an introspective, nearly morose tone of voice, Edwards' depiction of such a horrific event rings true and authentic. Edwards weaves threads in her tale, further encapsulating topics such as police brutality and teenage sexuality that show that even though her son is not a character, he had life, and his absence is sorely missed by the reader. He is a ghost, but always at the forefront of the text. Truly a beautiful book about love, loss, and motherhood.