It was my time to choose a book for the book club. I have several lists of books I want to read, but none listed seemed appropriate for this club. Most are non-fiction and we tend to read fiction. Many were too long and we've done a lot of that lately. Or too old. Or probably already read by a majority of the club. One book on my list intrigued me, but I had no idea what it was about. Then I read an article on it by John Miller and it cinched my choice. I picked Their Eyes Were Watching God by Nora Neale Hurston. I'm glad I did.The book is written by a black woman in 1937. Far enough from slavery, but far from the Civil Rights Era. Deep into Jim Crow. But what I liked about the book was that that wasn't the focus. Instead it's focused on one woman's growth to maturity within that context. Who will she be? Will she represent the hopes of her slave-born grandmother? Her husband with big dreams? Or will she finally be and understand herself and stand on her own two feet, not told who to be by others.
As an author, Hurston's heterodoxy eventually led to obscurity. She adamantly refused to toe the line of the other black intellectuals of her day. Today, however, readers and writers are rediscovering her and the beauty of her insight.
I ended up loving the book, but it was a journey. Initially I was put off by the "finding oneself" narrative. For me, it can involve too much "navel-gazing." Although, to be fair, our heroine does not really engage in that. We the reader are asked to help her figure it out while she struggles along as well. But by the end, it is clear she has grown up and has figured out exactly who she is. This allows her to return home, a different woman than the one who left. One who has made her peace. It's beautiful. I suppose it could be understood as a meta-narrative for the black race in America at this time. Who will they be? Will they forever be defined by others, whether white or black? Will black people ever just be and not what others expect them to be? I think Hurston answer the question in a beautiful, poetic, and immersive manner. The reader is sucked along and finally cares deeply about a woman's trajectory to peace.
A few beautiful quotations:
"Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men.
Now, women forget all those things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget. The dream is the truth. then they act and do things accordingly." (p. 1)
"And when she gained the privacy of her own little shack she stayed on her knees so long she forgot she was there herself. There is a basin in the mind where words float around on the thought and thought on sound and sight. Then there is a depth of thought untouched by thought. Nanny entered this infinity of conscious pain again on her old knees." (p. 24)
"'Over, Janie? I god, Ah ain't even started good. Ah told you in de very first beginnin' dat Ah aimed tuh be uh big voice. You oughta be glad, 'cause dat makes uh big woman outa you.'
A feeling of coldness and fear took hold of her. She felt far away from things and lonely." (p. 46)
"Here Nanny had taken the biggest thing God ever made, the horizon—for no matter how far a person can go the horizon is still way beyond you—and pinched it in to a such a little bit of a thing that she could tie it about her granddaughter's neck tight enough to choke her. She hated the old woman who had twisted her so in the name of love." (p. 89)
"He drifted off into sleep and Janie looked down on him and felt a self-crushing love. So her soul crawled out from its hiding place." (p. 128)
"All gods who receive homage are cruel. All gods dispense suffering without reason. Otherwise they would not be worshipped. Through indiscriminate suffering men know fear and fear is the most divine emotion. It is the stones for altars and the beginning of wisdom. Half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. Real gods require blood." (p. 145)
"The wind came back with triple fury, and put out the light for the last time. They sat in company with the others in other shanties, their eyes straining against crude walls and their souls asking if He meant to measure their puny might against His. They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God." (p. 160)
"Then you must tell 'em dat love ain't somethin' lak uh grindstone dat's de same thing everywhere an do de same thing tuh everything it touch. Love is lak de sea. It's uh movin' thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it's different with every shore." (p. 191)
And my favorite:
"It's uh known fact, Pheoby, you got tuh go there tuh know there. Yo' papa and yo' mama and nobody else can't tell yuh and show yuh. Two things everybody's got tuh do fuh theyselves. They got tuh go tuh God, and they got tuh find out about livin' fuh theyselves." (p. 192)
