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A review by chiannehere
Ordinary Light: A Memoir by Tracy K. Smith
4.0
I'm all for superstitions, a takeaway from living with an equally superstitious and religious family. I picked up this book, expecting a story of growth and racial tension and something different from the usual mold of 'girl meets boy, girl falls in love with boy, tragedy!, and then happy ending'. Somehow, the usual kept starring white, young teenagers.
I made it a point to expand my reach on literature and I picked Tracy Smith, a Pulitzer-prize winning, African American woman. I never heard of her before and now I chose to read a memoir of her own life.
I did get the growth, I did get the racial tension, I did get something different from the usual mold, but in a way that tied really closely with my own life.
One of the most pervasive themes was religion. Tracy lived the normal, Baptist life, taught to be chaste before marriage, taught to trust in God, taught to trust in her mother when she made efforts to draw sheep to the Lord's fold. It was when she turned older that she started to try to find a balance between her built-in religion and her own desires. She starts questioning her faith and what it really meant to "Be in the world, but not of the world," as her dear mother would say.
So, remember when I talked about superstition? The thing about "Ordinary Light" is that Tracy Smith, circa her childhood-young adult years, is basically me, circa my college years. Which is consequently happening now.
I'm going through the same 'fighting-with-my-faith' thing that Tracy went through when she started her college years and I thought that that aspect was almost ironic. As if I was meant to choose this book to first read from the university library (heh). Tracy stopped going to church, she went to a faith group meeting in the hopes of finding answers, she harbored a deep insecurity because of her initial beliefs on the expectations of herself and I could not find a more accurate portrayal of me. It was scary. I was scared, reading this book. There were times when I wanted to stop and just let Tracy's story just float away to nothingness so that I would forget the possible predicament I put myself in, but I chose to finish this book, and I'm glad I did.
Tracy Smith also talked about how she grew to become a writer (and a very exceptional one at that), from her beginnings with her voracious reading, the conversations she had with her English teacher, to her efforts in the poetry and writing classes in college. Watching her grow from a consumer to a producer was almost satisfying, as if she could somehow accomodate with my lackluster efforts in chasing the same dream as well. Reviews are what I'll stick with for now. And little vignettes.
Amidst all this growth, Tracy survived heartache, insecurity, finding a sense of self-being as she grew in a world that was still, and might as well forever be, intolerant of POCs.
The writing initially put me off for a bit; it was difficult to piece together the emotions she felt in a particular instance when she used such description. I found myself rereading a few passages for clarity; it was unbelievable how she could harbor such feelings and express them in newfangled ways at such a young age. She psychoanalyzed her earliest memories and I found that strange. Reading enough of it made me review my own memories to find a similar thread to the person I am now, as if the choices I made somehow got me to living miles away from all the friends I knew and the mindsets I used to have (the notion is somewhat silly, but what if?).
There were a few lines that really struck me and one of them was when Tracy recalled the time she took part in the school band:
"Every day during sixth period and during plenty of weekends when other kids were doing whatever it was they did outside of school, we fell into step and obeyed Mr. Taylor's commands, nine deep, eight wide, minds erased of all but the music and our teacher's pride."
While I definitely didn't relate to Tracy in the aspect of her ability to play the clarinet, I liked the rhyme, and was further satisfied to know that she wrote poetry as well as novels. I am definitely planning to read her poems in "Life on Mars" soon. "Ordinary Light" is more like a mixture of all the writing styles she gathered in her years, and I liked the combination. I remember not being as fond of poetry as I am today; her work just further deepened my love for them.
All in all, I thought that my choosing of "Ordinary Light" was ironic, and while the ending didn't really solve her dilemma with her religion with her own wants and needs (to me, anyway), I thought that this was a good way to explore the pervasiveness of religion, and how it can really shape someone's view on the world. Tracy did a very good job of putting her own views on the pros and cons of religion. While not strictly pitting herself against it, she wasn't totally for it either, and I'm possibly in the same boat as well.
"Ordinary Light" is a book that will have you speeding through her memories, but slowing down at the representation of what they meant to her. It is a book meant to tell those who are searching that they aren't alone, and I got that message straight and clear. If her mother started out "searching", and Tracy ends up "searching", then there are other people in the middle of "searching" as well. I am one of those people, and I'm glad I felt validated as Tracy would have wanted her readers to feel.
I made it a point to expand my reach on literature and I picked Tracy Smith, a Pulitzer-prize winning, African American woman. I never heard of her before and now I chose to read a memoir of her own life.
I did get the growth, I did get the racial tension, I did get something different from the usual mold, but in a way that tied really closely with my own life.
One of the most pervasive themes was religion. Tracy lived the normal, Baptist life, taught to be chaste before marriage, taught to trust in God, taught to trust in her mother when she made efforts to draw sheep to the Lord's fold. It was when she turned older that she started to try to find a balance between her built-in religion and her own desires. She starts questioning her faith and what it really meant to "Be in the world, but not of the world," as her dear mother would say.
So, remember when I talked about superstition? The thing about "Ordinary Light" is that Tracy Smith, circa her childhood-young adult years, is basically me, circa my college years. Which is consequently happening now.
I'm going through the same 'fighting-with-my-faith' thing that Tracy went through when she started her college years and I thought that that aspect was almost ironic. As if I was meant to choose this book to first read from the university library (heh). Tracy stopped going to church, she went to a faith group meeting in the hopes of finding answers, she harbored a deep insecurity because of her initial beliefs on the expectations of herself and I could not find a more accurate portrayal of me. It was scary. I was scared, reading this book. There were times when I wanted to stop and just let Tracy's story just float away to nothingness so that I would forget the possible predicament I put myself in, but I chose to finish this book, and I'm glad I did.
Tracy Smith also talked about how she grew to become a writer (and a very exceptional one at that), from her beginnings with her voracious reading, the conversations she had with her English teacher, to her efforts in the poetry and writing classes in college. Watching her grow from a consumer to a producer was almost satisfying, as if she could somehow accomodate with my lackluster efforts in chasing the same dream as well. Reviews are what I'll stick with for now. And little vignettes.
Amidst all this growth, Tracy survived heartache, insecurity, finding a sense of self-being as she grew in a world that was still, and might as well forever be, intolerant of POCs.
The writing initially put me off for a bit; it was difficult to piece together the emotions she felt in a particular instance when she used such description. I found myself rereading a few passages for clarity; it was unbelievable how she could harbor such feelings and express them in newfangled ways at such a young age. She psychoanalyzed her earliest memories and I found that strange. Reading enough of it made me review my own memories to find a similar thread to the person I am now, as if the choices I made somehow got me to living miles away from all the friends I knew and the mindsets I used to have (the notion is somewhat silly, but what if?).
There were a few lines that really struck me and one of them was when Tracy recalled the time she took part in the school band:
"Every day during sixth period and during plenty of weekends when other kids were doing whatever it was they did outside of school, we fell into step and obeyed Mr. Taylor's commands, nine deep, eight wide, minds erased of all but the music and our teacher's pride."
While I definitely didn't relate to Tracy in the aspect of her ability to play the clarinet, I liked the rhyme, and was further satisfied to know that she wrote poetry as well as novels. I am definitely planning to read her poems in "Life on Mars" soon. "Ordinary Light" is more like a mixture of all the writing styles she gathered in her years, and I liked the combination. I remember not being as fond of poetry as I am today; her work just further deepened my love for them.
All in all, I thought that my choosing of "Ordinary Light" was ironic, and while the ending didn't really solve her dilemma with her religion with her own wants and needs (to me, anyway), I thought that this was a good way to explore the pervasiveness of religion, and how it can really shape someone's view on the world. Tracy did a very good job of putting her own views on the pros and cons of religion. While not strictly pitting herself against it, she wasn't totally for it either, and I'm possibly in the same boat as well.
"Ordinary Light" is a book that will have you speeding through her memories, but slowing down at the representation of what they meant to her. It is a book meant to tell those who are searching that they aren't alone, and I got that message straight and clear. If her mother started out "searching", and Tracy ends up "searching", then there are other people in the middle of "searching" as well. I am one of those people, and I'm glad I felt validated as Tracy would have wanted her readers to feel.