Set in Los Angeles and dually narrated, this book tells the story of Lou, a Black woman in the 1930s. While the novel is also narrated by Sarah, living in a future Los Angeles, the book is primarily about Lou. Lou, a writer for the Times, has seen more death than most. She has turned it into stories, helping both herself and others understand grief. Or at least begin the attempt, as grief is never thoroughly understandable. However, while Lou may tell stories of death, it’s her life that holds the real mysteries. Wounds that heal unexplainably. Memories that she can’t quite place. A past that doesn’t exist.
This book is excellent. To say it’s well-written is an understatement. This novel has a depth, a voice, that I can’t begin to describe with my limited vocabulary and creativity. Rich with history, Deón tells stories of Black Los Angeles – a history that, of course, I was never taught. How did I graduate from high school in the ‘90s and never once hear the name LaTasha Harlins? Deón speaks truth that may be difficult to read, but is so necessary to share. When I do reviews, I try to share what I liked best about the book, but the irony here is that I hated this book. As wonderfully crafted as it is, I hated that these things needed to be said. I hate that they are true. I can’t claim to like anything that made this book necessary. I spent the entire book trying to make sense of the filthy souls that plague the history of this country. I just don’t understand why anyone would want to cause so much pain. That being said, I love that people, like Deón, are speaking up, uncovering the past for what it is. We can do better.
The book comes out on November 2, 2021. Definitely recommend.
Thanks to Natashia Deón, Counterpoint Press, and Netgalley for this ARC in return for my honest review.
