A Review of The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

Summer. It's here. It took me a few months to get back into my reading groove, and I think I'm almost there again, thankfully. 

The world is a hurting place, and I, along with so many others, are self-reflecting on my place in it, and my responsibility towards living a life of peace and love. I have always looked to the stories that books tell-whether they are fiction or non-fiction-to help me understand where the world was, and how we came to be where we are now. How others live; their cultures, the barriers they face, and the ugly and brutal things we do to each other out of fear and just plain ignorance.

 I will continue to read stories, memoirs, and history books that will help me understand the beautiful, magnificent, deeply troubled and damaged world we live in and call our home. And I hope I can, in some way, make it better. I may not be out protesting, but I will vote for change, and donate to causes I feel are important. We all do what we can. 

I saw a quote from Denzel Washington yesterday. He said that "Resistance is NOT a one lane highway. Maybe your lane is protesting, maybe your lane is organizing, maybe your lane is counseling, maybe your lane is art activism, maybe your lane is surviving the day. Do NOT feel guilty for not occupying every lane. We need all of them." 

So, onto The Vanishing Half. I received an advanced copy of this novel from a library conference and it was a great choice to kick off my summer reading. Brit Bennett's the author of The Mothers, which is the  adult All Iowa Read for 2020. I haven't read it, but now it's definitely on my list. 

The Vanishing Half is about two sisters-identical twins. The Vignes sisters: Desiree and Stella. They live in the very small town of Millard, Louisiana. Millard is a black community with a bit of a twist: everyone there is light skinned. They could pass for white people, but they identify as black, and are treated by the white people around them as black. It's the 1960's, and both girls want to escape Millard. Memories of their father being murdered by white men haunt them both, but especially Stella. They run away to New Orleans, and seem happy there for a bit. But Stella decides to try for a 'whites only' job, and gets it. She hides her secret every day, afraid someone will find out she's not white at all. And as she works, she realizes that she wants that kind of life-the white kind. But it means leaving Desiree behind. 

Years later, Desiree returns to Millard with her young daughter, Jude. Desiree did what most folks in Millard consider unforgivable: she married a black man-a very dark black man, and produced a child that did not fit into Millard's light skinned community. Poor Jude. She's shunned by everyone in the town; sits by herself at school, and running track is her only way out. Desiree stays in Millard, reconnecting to an old boyfriend and taking care of her mother. She always says she'll leave, but she never does. Desiree thinks about Stella-where she is, what her life is like, and the depth of her anger, sense of betrayal, and grief never goes away.

You also dive into Stella's life. It's vastly different from Desiree's life. She lives her life as a white woman, and keeps her secret from everyone, including her husband and her daughter, Kennedy-a blonde, violet eyed beauty. She has lived her life as a white woman longer than she ever identified as a black woman. And she lives in a privileged community in L.A., caught in her lies and unable to make peace with all of it. 

The novel moves into the 80's, as Jude and Kennedy grow up--and yes, cross paths. You may think it's just not possible, but Bennett writes the story in such a way that yes, it's very possible and makes perfect sense. How can these two women find any commonality? Will Stella ever return to Millard? Will Desiree ever see her sister again? What do you do when you live a lie for so long that it traps you? 

This was such a powerful novel about sisters, family, race, and identity. Hiding behind masks. Struggling to be seen. Jude--I loved Jude! She is such a powerhouse. Kennedy--a hot mess so lost she doesn't even realize how lost she is, and just keeps spiraling down. Stella so full of guilt; Desiree who tried to escape but finds herself right back where she started. The characters in this novel are worthy of long discussions, and this would make an excellent book group title. 

Rating: 5/6 for a powerful look at how we identify ourselves and people of color, and how society identifies us-the struggles to reconcile dreams with reality, and the sacrifices made on the journey. 

Available in hardcover, ebook, and audio. 

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A Review of The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

The Five: The Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Ripper by Hallie Rubenhold

The Five is a long overdue look at the women who were Jack the Ripper's known victims: Polly Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elisabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly. We know all the horrid details of their murders, but all we know of them is what's been handed down by newspapers and stories: they were all prostitutes, drunks, and roaming the streets of Whitechapel when they each crossed paths with Jack the Ripper. 

However, as is usual in sensational murders, the victims are often swiftly overlooked, soon becoming less-than. Hallie Rubenhold, a social historian, decided it was long past time to correct what we've all thought about these women. She researched each woman, and tells the stories of their lives. These women were sisters, daughters, mothers, lovers, and wives. Two were known prostitutes; the other three were victims of circumstance and some really incredibly stupid laws in Victorian England. Laws and social customs that kept women down, unable to improve their lives, or even divorce. Marriages broke down, and since divorce was not an option, women oftentimes walked out of their grimy, crowded, disgusting homes and went to the workhouse for assistance. There, they joined thousands of others in drudgery in exchange for a place to sleep and food. Husbands were required to pay a small monthly fee to their wives, but if they could prove their wives were unfaithful, that small payment could end, as it did in the case of a few, leaving them in even more dire straits. 

Hallie Rubenhold has really dug deep into research on each of the women, and it is fascinating stuff. It's also a very sobering look at the lower middle class and poverty level population of England in the 1800's. Childhood, if survived, was brief before children had to go to work to help support the family. If the male head of house was injured, died, or walked away, women and their children were left destitute. So many didn't have any reading or writing skills, it made everything that much more terrible. Polly, Annie, and Catherine all had attended school and knew how to read, write, and have basic skills in math. However, unable to break the cycle of poverty, they didn't have any chance at a better life. Elisabeth Stride was raped as a young girl, contracted syphilis, and the treatments forced on her caused her to give birth to a stillborn daughter. Branded publicly as a prostitute at 18, she was humiliated and never recovered from it all. 

Alcohol numbed each women's pain over losing their children, failed marriages, and poverty. Most of them also lost one or both parents very early in life, leaving grief and no way to cope with it. I found myself getting so angry at the circumstances each woman found themselves in, and the laws that limited them from getting the help they needed, and the laws that branded them as loose, unvirtuous, and not worthy. 

I found this a very interesting book, and yes, it's long overdue. Each of the women, forgotten by society for so long, and now infamous for how they died, deserves this telling of who they really were, the people they loved, and the families they left behind with so many unanswered questions. 

Rating: 5/6 for an incredibly well researched story about five women who became infamous for all the wrong reasons in 1888. These victims deserve to tell their stories, and Hallie Rubenhold is their voice. Whether you are a true crime fan, or a women's history devotee, or just interested in a really good book, pick this one up. You'll never look at Jack the Ripper's five victims: Polly, Annie, Elisabeth, Catherine, and Mary Jane, quite the same way again. And that's a good thing. 

Available in hardcover, ebook, and audio. 

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The Five: The Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Ripper by Hallie Rubenhold

A House Full of Daughters: A Memoir of Seven Generations by Juliet Nicolson

It has been a race to the end of March to try and get all of my March reads in, and I'm just one shy.  I can't find the energy to finish that book, so I'll talk about that DNF in my next post. 

I was picking up a book at the library earlier this month, when I happened to see this in the new releases.  Curiosity had me flipping it open, and just a few minutes later I was adding it to my check out pile.  I'm so glad I saw this, because it was such a tremendously satisfying memoir.  And I finally learned something about Vita Sackville-West.  

Juliet Nicolson is the granddaughter of Vita Sackville-West, and the daughter of Nigel Nicolson, who was a well respected British politician, lecturer, author, and guardian of Sissinghurst, his mother's beautiful country home famous for its gardens.  You can visit and tour the buildings, extensive gardens, and spend the day wandering in a stunning bit of English countryside.  I've heard of Sissinghurst, and saw books on the gardens, but never really knew what it was, who owned it, and especially, who Vita Sackville-West was and why she was so scandalous.  Juliet explains it all, and explains the women in her family, starting with her great-great grandmother Pepita,  a famous Spanish flamenco dancer during the mid-19th century.  Pepita was beautiful, mysterious, and doing quite well financially touring Europe when she met and fell madly in love with Lionel Sackville-West, a British politician.  Only problem was, Pepita was married, and in 19th century Spain, divorce was pretty much impossible for women.  That didn't stop Pepita and Lionel; they ended up having five children together, with Pepita living in France with her children, and Lionel visiting.  She suffered the scorn of her neighbors, and when she died in childbirth, she left her children orphans in France; left to be raised away from their father. Years later,  Lionel and Pepita's eldest daughter Victoria eventually became his shining star in Washington, D.C.; organizing dinners and social events for her political father, and becoming so famous for her charm and beauty that proposals for marriage came fast and furious.  But Victoria was afraid of marriage; after all, she'd seen how loving a man not only made a pariah out of her mother, but ended up killing her in childbirth.  No thanks. 

But, Victoria eventually became smitten with Lionel Sackville-West, her first cousin.  He pursued her relentlessly.  She finally agreed to marriage because Lionel was the heir to her father's country estate Knoles, and Victoria loved that home with all her being.  Her marriage crumbled, though, after Victoria gave birth to Vita.  The whole ordeal of childbirth terrified her so that she forbade her husband to ever have sex with her again, and that began the slow decline of their marriage, and another bit of dysfunction to add to the Sackville-West family.

Oh, there is so much more to tell you!  I found this all fascinating.  So many strong women, but each was also so fragile in their own ways; there is a definite pattern of neglect/smothering love/frustration in each generation.  It was sad to see how damaging it was to everyone, especially the children.  Juliet also suffered from an unhappy mother; her mother married into the Sackville-West family through Juliet's father Nigel, the son of Vita Sackville-West and Henry Nicolson.  Both were famous in their time; mostly because Vita was a gifted author, and notorious for her affairs with women.  Henry also fooled around with men, but somehow their marriage lasted until Vita's death; quietly devoted to each other.  

What this memoir struck in me was the realization that I don't have the luxury of talking to my mother, grandmother, and great grandmother.  They're all gone, and I have no way of knowing what they were like, what they went through as young women.  They didn't keep diaries; there are only pictures to help piece together what life was like for them all those years ago.  Juliet is incredibly lucky; lucky that she is a gifted writer; lucky that she has the family papers,  Sissinghurst and Knoles to visit and discover little bits of history tucked into attics and drawers.  But Juliet understands all of that, and has crafted a memoir that is a love letter to all the women who came before her, and to her daughters and granddaughter who follow.  

Rating: 5/6 for a memoir that reads like a novel, about the generations of women in one family and how they shaped each generation to follow. This was so good! 

Available in hardcover, ebook, and audio. 

 

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A House Full of Daughters: A Memoir of Seven Generations by Juliet Nicolson