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A review by book_concierge
The Twelve Tribes of Hattie by Ayana Mathis
3.0
Book on CD performed by Andrele Ojo, Bahni Turpin, and Adam Lazarre-White
In 1923 fifteen-year-old Hattie Shepherd, along with her mother and sister, left their Georgia home for a new start North of the Mason-Dixon line. They thought they would find a better life in Philadelphia. But Hattie got pregnant by and married a man who would prove to be a huge disappointment. Her first-born twins die of an infection that a little penicillin might have cured. Hattie never gets over their loss, but raises her other nine children with grit and determination, if not much tenderness.
The novel is told in twelve chapters, each detailing the story of one of Hattie’s children or grandchildren, over six decades, and reads more like a collection of short stories than a cohesive novel with a single story arc. The book jacket implies that Mathis based the novel on the history of the Great Migration, when African Americans fled the deep south for the hope of better jobs in the north. Some prospered, finding good factory jobs on which salaries they could support a growing family. Some floundered, succumbing to the temptations of the big city streets, gambling, juke joints, and drinking. Some of them returned to the south. But because she focuses on this one dysfunctional family, she loses the larger picture.
I like the way that Mathis uses the stories of Hattie’s eleven children and one grandchild to illustrate so many possibilities. In one family, especially when including Hattie’s sisters Pearl and Marion, there are huge disparities in fortune – a professional man who owns his own business, contrasted with a woman facing eviction for nonpayment of rent. Some of them find solace in religion; some seek it in the bottle. Some have strong marriages; others seem incapable of forming any lasting relationship.
I found myself angry with several of the characters, for their lack of integrity or ambition or motivation, and yet I understood that poverty can result in isolation and hopelessness. I know, too, that the issues facing these characters – sexual identity, mental illness, poverty, abandonment, discrimination, marital infidelity – are difficult to handle when you have a strong support network, and virtually impossible to overcome when you are emotionally isolated.
This is Mathis’ debut novel and I see evidence of a great writing talent. I’ll probably read another book by her. But at the end of THIS novel I find myself struggling to explain my reactions to the book, as much as Hattie’s children struggled to make a good life after being raised by such seemingly uncaring parents.
The audio version is performed by three talented voice artists: Andrele Ojo, Bahni Turpin, and Adam Lazarre-White. I think this contributed to the feeling that this was a collection of stories rather than a novel.
In 1923 fifteen-year-old Hattie Shepherd, along with her mother and sister, left their Georgia home for a new start North of the Mason-Dixon line. They thought they would find a better life in Philadelphia. But Hattie got pregnant by and married a man who would prove to be a huge disappointment. Her first-born twins die of an infection that a little penicillin might have cured. Hattie never gets over their loss, but raises her other nine children with grit and determination, if not much tenderness.
The novel is told in twelve chapters, each detailing the story of one of Hattie’s children or grandchildren, over six decades, and reads more like a collection of short stories than a cohesive novel with a single story arc. The book jacket implies that Mathis based the novel on the history of the Great Migration, when African Americans fled the deep south for the hope of better jobs in the north. Some prospered, finding good factory jobs on which salaries they could support a growing family. Some floundered, succumbing to the temptations of the big city streets, gambling, juke joints, and drinking. Some of them returned to the south. But because she focuses on this one dysfunctional family, she loses the larger picture.
I like the way that Mathis uses the stories of Hattie’s eleven children and one grandchild to illustrate so many possibilities. In one family, especially when including Hattie’s sisters Pearl and Marion, there are huge disparities in fortune – a professional man who owns his own business, contrasted with a woman facing eviction for nonpayment of rent. Some of them find solace in religion; some seek it in the bottle. Some have strong marriages; others seem incapable of forming any lasting relationship.
I found myself angry with several of the characters, for their lack of integrity or ambition or motivation, and yet I understood that poverty can result in isolation and hopelessness. I know, too, that the issues facing these characters – sexual identity, mental illness, poverty, abandonment, discrimination, marital infidelity – are difficult to handle when you have a strong support network, and virtually impossible to overcome when you are emotionally isolated.
This is Mathis’ debut novel and I see evidence of a great writing talent. I’ll probably read another book by her. But at the end of THIS novel I find myself struggling to explain my reactions to the book, as much as Hattie’s children struggled to make a good life after being raised by such seemingly uncaring parents.
The audio version is performed by three talented voice artists: Andrele Ojo, Bahni Turpin, and Adam Lazarre-White. I think this contributed to the feeling that this was a collection of stories rather than a novel.