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paul_viaf 's review for:
For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide / When the Rainbow Is Enuf
by Ntozake Shange
3.75
The book begins as a smoldering & soon catches fire & soon catches wind & soon it is engulfed. It is the survivalist tale of the phoenix. The book begins with an exchange of dialogue between seven different women representing the various regions of America. Through a cultural dialect, through colloquial terms, derogatory phrases, slang, we are transported to the very streets of this crude but very human interaction. It is not clothed by formalities. It is bare in its raw assessment of these lives. These windows are open for all to gaze into. I do not know the full extent of the author’s familiarity with the poet, but it seems written much in the tradition of Paul Laurence Dunbar. In this style it lends an authenticity which cannot be denied. Anything else would detract. They represent many aspects of the personalities of women. The playful. The sensual. The stern. The sassy. In this vehicle it portrays a steely Identity, individualistic anecdotes, aspects of a self-reflective piece, self-discovery, revival of self & suffering from the outset. It is a piece very much derived from pain. How truthfully pain can be conveyed. Much of the work is written in stage direction format which isn’t the most appealing to me. Even Beckett loses me with that technique. The movie was fascinating (I saw it before I read this) & the beginning of the book delves into its evolution as a theatrical piece. I find I care more about the language of a book rather than the description of actions. Just a personal preference. There are sections fashioned in the form of, what is now known as, slam poetry, which is also not my taste. A portion of the book addresses rape, which is not light subject, though the style does not lend itself to the gravity it deserves. Because it is performance art, perhaps it relies too heavily on the performance itself. The poetry is not awful by any means. The style is just stigmatized in my eyes. There are some supremely sultry lines which could be written by none other than a woman secure with each & every curve of her body. Intimately knowing each crevice. A woman that has known shrieks & foul scents of run-down neighborhoods. The work blossomed to me towards the end. It strengthens as it extends like the legs of a burlesque dancer or ballerina. There is a sisterhood which we are invited into to witness alone, not to touch, or engage or alter, no. To witness. The book resonates, above all, as a voice for womanhood & femininity & the promise of strength in the face of such pain. The promise of wisdom from such a beating. It is a struggle, as man to read this, & not feel the burden of shame. To ask for forgiveness. I can only hope that my actions can make-up for such behavior. The piece certainly has its moment & place secured in the theatric & literary influences of our modern writers.
The book begins as a smoldering & soon catches fire & soon catches wind & soon it is engulfed. It is the survivalist tale of the phoenix. The book begins with an exchange of dialogue between seven different women representing the various regions of America. Through a cultural dialect, through colloquial terms, derogatory phrases, slang, we are transported to the very streets of this crude but very human interaction. It is not clothed by formalities. It is bare in its raw assessment of these lives. These windows are open for all to gaze into. I do not know the full extent of the author’s familiarity with the poet, but it seems written much in the tradition of Paul Laurence Dunbar. In this style it lends an authenticity which cannot be denied. Anything else would detract. They represent many aspects of the personalities of women. The playful. The sensual. The stern. The sassy. In this vehicle it portrays a steely Identity, individualistic anecdotes, aspects of a self-reflective piece, self-discovery, revival of self & suffering from the outset. It is a piece very much derived from pain. How truthfully pain can be conveyed. Much of the work is written in stage direction format which isn’t the most appealing to me. Even Beckett loses me with that technique. The movie was fascinating (I saw it before I read this) & the beginning of the book delves into its evolution as a theatrical piece. I find I care more about the language of a book rather than the description of actions. Just a personal preference. There are sections fashioned in the form of, what is now known as, slam poetry, which is also not my taste. A portion of the book addresses rape, which is not light subject, though the style does not lend itself to the gravity it deserves. Because it is performance art, perhaps it relies too heavily on the performance itself. The poetry is not awful by any means. The style is just stigmatized in my eyes. There are some supremely sultry lines which could be written by none other than a woman secure with each & every curve of her body. Intimately knowing each crevice. A woman that has known shrieks & foul scents of run-down neighborhoods. The work blossomed to me towards the end. It strengthens as it extends like the legs of a burlesque dancer or ballerina. There is a sisterhood which we are invited into to witness alone, not to touch, or engage or alter, no. To witness. The book resonates, above all, as a voice for womanhood & femininity & the promise of strength in the face of such pain. The promise of wisdom from such a beating. It is a struggle, as man to read this, & not feel the burden of shame. To ask for forgiveness. I can only hope that my actions can make-up for such behavior. The piece certainly has its moment & place secured in the theatric & literary influences of our modern writers.