When I read the description of Coleman Hill, I thought of it more as a story about place than about family. (I first read about it when it made the Carol Shields Prize longlist—eventually it was shortlisted and, yes, I’ll soon update my progress on that reading too—and it first lodged in my mind as a must-read with the interview on Black & Published by Nikesha Elise Williams very shortly afterwards. Terrific stuff: update your podcast app!)
It conjured up images like James McBride’s Chicken Hill in The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store (2023): “a tiny area of ramshackle houses and dirt roads where the town’s blacks, Jews, and immigrant whites who couldn’t afford any better lives, set them before his warm woodstove, filled them with warm iced tea and gefilte fish.”
And Colson Whitehead’s Harlem Shuffle (2022): “No New Frontier stretched before him, endless and bountiful—that was for white folks—but this new land was a few blocks at least and in Harlem a few blocks was everything. A few blocks was the difference between strivers and crooks, between opportunity and the hard scrabble.”
But Kim Coleman Foote is writing more about family. In her author’s note, she says “Coleman Hill could be ‘bio-fiction’, I guess. Or ‘faction’, the term Alex Haley used to describe Roots. But the term I prefer is ‘biomythography’, coined by Audre Lorde.”
It begins in the past, in the later-19th century: “We were born after Mancipation, see? The first Colored folks to be born citizens of these here United States. We wanted what our gov’ment promised us so bad, that we was sure nuff gon up and leave our kinfolk and friends and the only home we ever knew behind.”
(I listened to this as an audiobook but finished it on-the-page; the performance is tremendously engaging but there are also photographs in the printed copy which add another dimension to the story.)
The women’s stories are centred, so we have Celia saying this: “A man might appear all nice and sweet when he was courting, like Jim, but after you said ‘I do,’ he had the potential to become the new overseer in your house.”
But in subsequent generations, the male characters are more fully developed, more complex. And, because there are multiple narrators, readers get the opportunity to observe someone like Jebbie from both his mother’s and his partner’s perspectives. Always in an historical context.
“Then, Jim took to beating Jebbie for the littlest thing, claiming it would make him a man. The North, he said, was better for Colored men, but they still lost they lives if they fought back. A Colored man who couldn’t take life’s blows would surely see the grave before his time. But Jim’s beatings ain’t make Jebbie stronger. If anything, your boy shrank. He cried more, developed a stammer. […] Your son wasn’t born no slave and don’t go a slave name neither, Jim, you thought, and yet, you sure nuff whup him like one.”
Foote brings readers right into the narrative here, making it feel like we are the ones speaking to Jim. But, simultaneously affording the possibility that there are two sides to the speaker: her own self and the part of her that’s watching and remaining silent in that instance, the part of her that’s keeping those words to herself.
I enjoyed the linked stories in Délana R. A. Dameron’s Redwood Court (2024) in a similar way; for me, it actually read more quickly (there are some poetic elements, particularly at the beginning of Foote’s novel, in earlier decades, that required a little more attention for the first few segments, but the bulk of the novel unfolds in the mid-20th century).
It landed on my stack because of her connection with Randall Kenan (both from Chapel Hill, where originally he was her creative writing teacher) whose work I love, from start to finish.
It’s a collection of linked tales about the families who settle in the Black subdivision of Redwood Court. “At the cookout that Saturday, Weesie told anyone who bought a plate that Redwood Court, all of them, took care of they own.”
The first story from the collection to snag the attention of the literary establishment was “Work”, about Mika’s first income from selling the friendship bracelets she wove and, later, her first official job: it’s about how we earn and what that costs us, about how the people around us teach us about what we take and what we give.
This story falls rather late in the collection and, by then, readers are already wholly committed to the story of this family, to the way Délana R. A. Dameron positions her heart and invites readers to make their homes there too.
“You have the stories you’ve heard and the ones you’ve yet to hear. The ones you’ll live to tell someone else. That’s a gift that gives and gives and gives. You get to make it into something for tomorrow. You write ‘em in your books and show everyone who we are.”
Mika is the most prominent character—though the characterisation is consistently strong throughout, older and younger, male and female alike—her coming-of-age story relatable and striking the perfect balance of specific and universal.
“I was journaling now, becoming a writer. Ever since I read Anne Frank and Zlata’s diaries, I was determined that, should anything happen to me before my time, as they say, there would be a record that I lived, that we all lived, and that I crushed on boys like Roger from my band class, and fought with Mama, just like any regular girl.”
Both of these were stand-out reads for me this year and they reminded me just how rewarding it can be, to try a single novel by a writer whose work is new-to-you or whose work is new to publication.
Are you keeping your stacks fresh? Everyone has their favourites, their go-to authors and genres, but how often do you stretch beyond those? How recently have you “discovered” a new favourite, book or writer?
Fascinating about McBride. Many many years ago I read his memoir, and then his debut novel, but then he completely slipped off the radar – over here anyhow – and it’s only recenlty that I’m been hearing that he’s written quite a lot since then, and is much enjoyed. I have yet to read Colson Whitehead. I love your description to Emma of your feelings about the two of them. There are authors I like to read what they produce, but that doesn’t mean I do! Current examples would include Charlotte Wood and Melissa Lucashenko. If John Clanchy wrote another I’d read it too … and there are many more! But there are writers long gone whom I still want to read more of, like Elizabeth von Arnim.
EvA is one of my MustReadEverything authors and I have been reminded of her several times recently, while reading Kathleen Jones’ biography of Katherine Mansfield (I hadn’t registered their cousinhood until Bill mentioned it, shortly before I picked up the bio, which was recommended by Mel at The Reading Life).
I hope my comment to Emma doesn’t come off as my never loving Whitehead’s work though; when she and I first chatted about him and McBride, in comments somewhere on her site, the two books under discussion seemed to fit more into those tendencies (you could see the intellectual wheels turning in Whitehead’s whereas the focus in that McBride seemed overtful emotional). I bet if these two men did reading challenges, McBride would be an overlapper and Whitehead would be an each-category-a-separate-book reader, but I’d want to see what they both chose on their lists! hee hee (This comment might make very little sense to anyone who doesn’t follow the comment threads here.)
There’s a temptation to read authors you already like–I try to remind myself to branch out, but sometimes you just want something you know you’ll like. But it seems like I’m at risk of going off on a Kurban Said bender in the future–a new discovery for me.
I’ve liked Whitehead but haven’t (yet) read that one.
Let’s see if this goes through–I’ve had trouble commenting on WordPress blogs lately.
Is there more available now than Ali and Nino? A fascinating figure, for sure!
That’s true: as the years pass, I try to make more of a deliberate effort to try new writers but, at the same time, so many favourites have accumulated across those years that it’s hard to not allow them to wholly consume your reading time.
Recently I was thinking of Sag Harbour is a great summer read.
I was happy to find you in the Nasty Folder but sad you’ve been stuck there for so long!
There’s a second novel as well as a biography and both were available at TPL. They’re on their way!
Ohhhh, I will have to take a look. But not anytime soon, so don’t look in my direction over any recalls. lol
I keep seeing mentions of the Heaven and Earth grocery store and I’m getting book FOMO! I’ve got a Colson Whitehead book on my TBR right now, just sitting on my shelf (his latest) but haven’t gotten to it yet. I’ve never read him, but it seems as though you recommend him? He was an engaging speaker, but because this book is the second or third in the series (can’t remember which now) I’m worried I may be missing something from his earlier works.
You might find that you enjoy hearing him talk about writing more than you enjoy reading his books–sometitmes that happens to me too! (Technically you aren’t supposed to need to read the first book, and I have read positive reviews where they hadn’t read it, but I don’t think it would have been as enjoyable for me without having that background.) Either way, I would pick it up when you are in the mood for a character-driven story rather than plot, despite the, um, boisterous blurbing. heheh
My stacks of actual books are only increasing gradually. I wouldn’t make it to a bookshop once a month – though two of my ‘go-tos’, Hopkinson and Rooney, have books out very soon. The library seems locked in a very limited range of (mostly white) crime and romance. Luckily I have Audible, and friends bearing gifts, to broaden my horizons.
It’s exciting when more than one favourite author has a new book out and, in this case, no risk of one disappointing compared to the other, given how different their styles are. Both appeal to me too, as you know, though in different reading moods. You do seem to be able to find a remarkable variety of stories on Audible!
I’m glad you enjoyed Coleman Hill as much as I did. I’ve been pondering reading more by McBride and I think The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store would be my next choice.
My favourite recent discovery was Bernardine Bishop, whose posthumous novel I picked up almost at random from a charity shop shelf. At 3/£1 paperbacks, it seemed worth taking a chance on. I loved it so much that I swiftly acquired her other two (one by going back to the same shop — months later a copy was still there, hurrah! and the other online).
I’ve been holding his (mother’s) memoir in reserve for years, if you ever decide to read that one.
Ohhh, yes, your discovery of Bernardine Bishop definitely appeals to me too. I’m glad to know the other was there on your return!
‘Biomythography’ is a brilliant summation in one word! I’d not come across it before so thank you.
It’s perfect, isn’t it. 🙂
These sound wonderful! I love the intersection of family and place in Coleman Hill—it does sound like a novel of place, but the use of her name in the title also makes it very personal I guess.
I tend to discover new books and writers regularly through blogs like yours, and my wife Genie lines up the audiobooks for our long road trips, so I often discover new favourites that way. A recent gem was The Colour of Our Sky by Amita Trasi. But I tend to stick to the same genre of literary fiction most of the time, although I read more widely in non-fiction.
Yeah, I don’t know how I didn’t pick up on the elision there and anticipate it would be as much (or more) about family than place, given the author’s name. /eyerollsselfward heheh
The Color of Our Sky looks really good and it’s available at a local library branch; I appreciate the idea of fiction examining the traditions of human trafficking as they persist in the present-day (ok, it’s set in the 80s, but not the distant past).
I like the sound of this. I have The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store on the shelf and liked Harlem Shuffle, even if I prefer James McBride.
What a nice discovery!
I remember we’ve chatted about McBride and Whitehead before; for me, I consider them the same in terms of favourite-ness (i.e. I get equally excited at the prospect of a new book by either), but I would choose McBride in almost any reading mood and Whitehead requires that I be in a more studious mood which often leaves me admiring more than loving.