Happy Friday! If you’re reading this on any day and thinking “wait, is it Friday?” then you are picking up what I’m putting down. Wednesday was paid holiday for me (Juneteenth) and my regular time-to-make-the-donuts rhythm is off.
My daughter spent 103 degree Wednesday at circus camp. I stayed indoors with two feet safely on the floor, distracting myself from mental images of her sweaty knees slipping from the trapeze by reading the last part of Master, Slave, Husband, Wife: An Epic Journey from Slavery to Freedom, one of the prize-winning non-fiction books included in the June list.
Writing about a critically-acclaimed bestseller a year-and-change after publication is a bit awkward. The buzz of new reviews and interviews has died down, the prizes have been awarded. Yet not quite enough time has gone by that it might feel like a new discovery to readers who passed on it the first time around. I feel like I’m entering the conversation in that pause after an epic moment of connection among a group to add my own thoughts.
But really, timing aside: if I’m going to be that white person publically catching up on the American history I didn’t learn growing up, it probably should feel a bit awkward. Onward!
This book’s not your average “slavery happened in the past, it was bad, but then Abraham Lincoln made everyone free and equal, God bless our flag” version of 19th-century American history. It tells of the clever, community-aided self-emancipation of Ellen and William Craft from enslavement in Georgia through Philadelphia to Boston in a cinematic way, full of carefully researched geographical and cultural detail. It draws out the distinct personalities of each main character: Ellen, William and their closest allies whose names you might recognize even if like me you had never heard of William and Ellen Craft before this book was published.
There’s plenty harrowing in Ellen and William’s tale, as with any narrative of enslavement. But this book doesn’t dwell there to evince empathy in the reader for the enslaved couple because of what they’ve endured. Rather, Ellen shines for her quick humor, quiet resolve to resist her misidentification by those around her in the ways she could control, and her loyalty to her mother and children, living or otherwise. William stands out for his courage, his showmanship and his sense of adventure. The reader empathizes with them because they’re delightful. Together, their ambitious projects ooze with originality, connection, community and expansiveness.
Historical biography is not my usual fare. When the middle section of the book slows the pace as the Crafts hunker down among the abolitionist community in Boston for an extended period, Woo’s coverage of the political divisions and unrest of the times held me. It felt surprisingly contemporary, even though it’s rendered in the stark realities of life 175 years ago. For example: an unpopular President, well beyond the average male life span for the time, holds the line against the expansion of slavery into the Western states but dies of cholera (rather than well, you know… our more modern day concerns). This deepens the existing crisis and opens the door for the Fugitive Slave Law to pass as part of the 1850 Compromise, co-opting the citizenry in free states in a pro-slavery legal conundrum. Political courts and the active repression of resistance from the highest levels of government slow progress, and Woo includes surprising evidence that Taylor’s successor, the unfortunately named President Millard Fillmore, sent military regiments from throughout New England to Boston to recapture the Crafts, making an example of them that might appease the more moderate southern states, preserving the Union and the institution of slavery.
The Crafts push on to Canada and their ultimate escape to freedom in England. The book covers the rest of their lives in a broad sweep, including post-Civil War reunification with Ellen’s mother, William’s adventures and misadventures in Africa, the family’s eventual return to the United States with some of the children their journey spared from enslavement, and the rise and fall of the first black-owned plantation in the American south.
Read this if you enjoy romance but mistrust an uncomplicated happy ending. The story is a page turner— I shared bits of the audiobook with my 10-year old while driving in the car, and when I picked her up each day she wanted to know if I’d read any more and what had happened. There are some photos and illustrations in the middle of the hardback that we pored over together. She enjoyed seeing a photo of Frederick Douglass, who she had heard of in school, and especially the illustration of Ellen dressed as a gentleman compared to the photo of her dressed as a proper English lady.
What do you think: will there be a screen adaptation of this one? Part of me hopes not. I’m sure the book is better.
In case you missed it
Are you planning to do any of these things as part of your summer reading:
Listen to an audiobook?
Watch a book-to-screen adaptation?
Read outdoors?
Pilgrimage to a literary site?
These and other simple ways to enjoy literature this summer are part of the National Book Foundation’s 75th Anniversary Summer Reading Adventure. Complete even one item and you’ll get a discount code to purchase books from Libro.fm (audio) or Bookshop.org. Complete all items and enter to win a trip for two to the National Book Awards (no obligation to take me as your +1 but could be fun).
If you’re reading this in an email rather than the app, click through on the title below to comment on one of The Booktender community’s every-other-Friday threads to share progress with your own summer reading adventures. It’s easy and if you do, you can check off at least one item: “connect with your fellow book lovers.”
Some other 2023 reads you might enjoy
Francisco by Alison Mills Newman.
I found this groovy time capsule of a novella, orginally published in 1974 but out of print until New Directions revived it last year, on a mission to discover unknown short reads at my favorite local bookstore for my May reading provocation.
An autoficition based on the author’s own experiences as the first black actress to star in a major TV series and her relationship with filmmaker Francisco Toscano Newman, it’s the story of a privileged and principled young black actress trying to find a way toward “the workins of a positive alive life that is good value, quality, carin, truth.. the gift of art for the survival of the human heart.” I loved the bohemian vibe, the riff on the scam known as the American credit card, and the lover’s description of the unnamed narrator: “francisco says i make rags look expensive and i’d probably make somethin expensive look like a rag.”
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F57b4c4b4-7e8b-4c4c-82f5-780ca11501bd_772x1334.heic)
How to Say Babylon by Safiya Sinclair
Poet and ASU Creative Writing professor Safiya Sinclair spoke at the Tucson Festival of Books about her 2023 memoir about growing up in and leaving an insular world created by her Jamaican Rastafari father. She was luminous, one of the most beautiful people I’ve seen walking this earth. I have to say I was skeptical of the scenes in which she described her ugliness— pics or it didn’t happen. I listened to this as an audiobook read by the author, which really made it easy to follow the playful, significant and empowering twists of the English language characteristic of the Rastafari. Someone who has the hard copy please tell me if there was any proof. Fans of Tara Westover’s Educated, Jamaica Kincaid , or Seeing the Body will love How to Say Babylon.
Foolish: Tales of Assimilation, Determination and Humiliation by Sarah Cooper
It’s really not fair to expect lip-syncher-in-chief Sarah Cooper to save democracy a second time, but I do think there’s plenty of current material available if she’d like to try. This memoir introduces an extremely smart person making what appear to be foolish choices in the areas of career, dating and marriage. As per the genre of comedic memoir, Cooper shares her charming neurosis for laughs. She makes fun of her daddy issues, her perfectionism, the wimpiness of the color periwinkle (??) and Ted Talk culture to reveal important aspects of the immigrant experience of race in America, how we discover our blind spots, and the chaos of viral fame. Easy to read in low concentration situations, when you want some light but not empty entertainment.