roselisanchez

There is something so affecting about a book that elevates sisterhood. What I love about Silver Sparrow is that Tayari evokes all the angst and fun of adolescence happening in the tense context of a bigamist and his competing families. The book is well-paced, the details of each character lovingly rendered and the writing/longing lovely. Tayari writes in the back of the book's Q&A that her imagination must live in Atlanta - you get the sense reading Silver Sparrow that it is a place that she loves deep in her bones and that her characters are ones that she also loves. Tayari avoids the tendency we have in our culture to make villains of men who make mistakes (Or women. Or children.) by making the patriarch(s) in the book sympathetic, real and complex. I adored Uncle Raleigh, Dana and Chaurisse, the tender romance of each character and the women who loved them. Even though I was mad with him, I even liked James Witherspoon and his stammer a little bit. The women James has made his wifes, LaVerne and Gwen, are also great -- I'm partial to the even temper and composure Gwen emits. Silver Sparrow is also a great term for those of us who used to be called secret children or the other kid. I love that in writing a story that had some personal resonance, Tayari also gave the affirmation and validation of a sweet novel to many who otherwise hoard their shame in alienating narratives. Speaking of his biography re: Charlie Parker, Stanley Crouch recently remarked on the absence of the teenage romance that becomes an early marriage in much of "so-called Black American Literature." And while the versions Tayari writes here are not immediately romantic, you can see in her loving details where the heart of each character lies on each page.

2022-09-12 00:37