A review by milesjmoran
Daddy Was A Number Runner by Louise Meriwether

4.0

It was storming, one of those reddish days that looks like the earth's on fire. It got darker and darker, all in the middle of the day, like the sun had gone off somewhere and died. The rain came down with a roar. The thunder boomed, the lightning cracked across the sky, and as I pressed my nose against the living-room window looking out at the storm, I shivered just a little, for who could tell that this wasn't doomsday. Gabriel, Gabriel, blow on your horn and all ye dead rise up to be judged.

One of the things that drew me to this book was James Baldwin's foreword:

We have seen this life from the point of view of a black boy growing into a menaced and probably brief manhood; I don't know that we have ever seen it from the point of view of a black girl on the edge of a terrifying womanhood.

Daddy Was a Number Runner is the coming of age story of Francie Coffin, a young girl living in Harlem with her family who are struggling to get by, both financially and as a Black family in America.

This is a novel that looks closely at community - how it is simultaneously loving and supportive but also a place of apathy, violence, and abuse. While Francie is trying to navigate her way through puberty, the men around her are trying to use her body for their own sexual gratification, be it touching her body in exchange for goods/money, or directly trying to take her virginity. Within the first few pages of the book, Meriwether details a man who exposes himself to Francie, seemingly every time he sees her, and this also happens to the other girls of her age in her neighbourhood. This is all told through this young girl's eyes, so there is an aspect of innocence and confusion as to what is happening to her. On top of all of that, she is also trying to understand her own sexuality, exploring it through pornographic comic strips that she shares with her friends. This is handled so brilliantly by Meriwether as she deals with Francie's conflicting emotions regarding what the men are doing to her without ever placing the blame on her.

I love the way in which the book explores family relationships, particularly the ways in which they shift as a child grows up and becomes more aware of the subtle family dynamics that they weren't aware of when they were younger. It's very quickly established that Francie is closer to her dad, who she calls Daddy, whereas she calls her mum the more formal Mother. Her father is more lenient with her, not disciplining her the same way that he does her older brothers, while on the other hand, her mother is strict, making Francie run errands that embarrass her, and Francie often states that her mother feels like a stranger to her. However, as Francie gets older, these dynamics begin to change, and she comes to understand that the love she receives from her parents are indeed different but, ultimately, that her mother's love is more substantial and consistent. I really loved the way Meriwether portrayed this - she doesn't do it with loud, dramatic scenes where feelings are overtly stated. Instead, she shows it gradually through small, seemingly insignificant moments, and how they make Francie feel, which I thought was much more effective and realistic.

The majority of the book focuses on the Coffin family and their small community, but she also touches on topics such as police brutality, riots, gangs, and systemic racism. So many moments from those scenes could be transplanted into the news today and they wouldn't feel out of place. Baldwin said: Louise Meriwether has told everyone who can read or feel what it means to be a black man or a woman in this country, and that still stands today's America n 2020. I think this classic should be recommended in the same breath as other coming of age stories such as A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and To Kill a Mockingbird.