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A review by sjgrodsky
The Cooking Gene: A Journey Through African American Culinary History in the Old South by Michael W. Twitty
Did not finish book.
1.0
I have read as much of this book as I can stand. I read the first 30 pages or so, jumped to the chapter called “Mishpocheh” and gave up.
I FELT like I was reading, but at the end of a paragraph, page, or chapter, I could not summarize what Twitty had just said. So it’s a waste to spend any more time “reading.” Nothing is sinking in.
(Deep sigh.) Michael Twitty is so well regarded. Maybe he’s a different person face to face.
In the interests of full disclosure, I will add that Twitty’s appearance — he is clinically obese — was a negative for me before I even opened the book. So I suppose you can say I did judge this book by its cover.
I said that “nothing sank in” but that is not exactly true. I did get what Twitty said about the visitor experience to a plantation. A plantation (I mean one of those white columned houses from the 18th to 19th centuries) is multiple experiences simultaneously:
Experience 1
———————
Some white people will see it partly (or exclusively) as “a place where people lived in luxury, despite the lack of modern conveniences.”
Experience 2
———————
Other white people might see it as the first — a place of luxury — while acknowledging that the luxury for a few was built on the misery for many.
Experience 3
———————
Black people will see it as a prison, at best. At “best” because the prisoners were innocent of any crime.
Twitty points out that guides typically present Experience 1. And so black visitors (and whites whose reaction is experience 2) will, at best, shake their heads in disbelief. How can that nice guide be standing knee deep in shit while pretending that she smells nothing?
I FELT like I was reading, but at the end of a paragraph, page, or chapter, I could not summarize what Twitty had just said. So it’s a waste to spend any more time “reading.” Nothing is sinking in.
(Deep sigh.) Michael Twitty is so well regarded. Maybe he’s a different person face to face.
In the interests of full disclosure, I will add that Twitty’s appearance — he is clinically obese — was a negative for me before I even opened the book. So I suppose you can say I did judge this book by its cover.
I said that “nothing sank in” but that is not exactly true. I did get what Twitty said about the visitor experience to a plantation. A plantation (I mean one of those white columned houses from the 18th to 19th centuries) is multiple experiences simultaneously:
Experience 1
———————
Some white people will see it partly (or exclusively) as “a place where people lived in luxury, despite the lack of modern conveniences.”
Experience 2
———————
Other white people might see it as the first — a place of luxury — while acknowledging that the luxury for a few was built on the misery for many.
Experience 3
———————
Black people will see it as a prison, at best. At “best” because the prisoners were innocent of any crime.
Twitty points out that guides typically present Experience 1. And so black visitors (and whites whose reaction is experience 2) will, at best, shake their heads in disbelief. How can that nice guide be standing knee deep in shit while pretending that she smells nothing?