Girl, You So Well Spoken!

For the most part, I've spent the majority of my time back in Pittsburgh reading cheesy romance novels. Is it wrong for me to titillate myself with stories of courtship and desire, soul mates and passion? Maybe a little. But I figure that I may as well hide behind stories woven by idealistic, patriarchal-minded, sedated, frivolous women. They do weave them so well...

But of course, my true desires snuck in whilst I browsed the shelves of the library. In the "African-American" section I stumbled upon Maryse Condé's I, Tituba, Black Witch of Salem... I left it for last. I just knew that there would be no women getting thrown over any burly men's shoulders and thrown into bed for unabashed nights of passion. No happy endings with glass slippers and modern-day Ever After's.

After one completely ridiculous romance novel by some obscure author and two mildly entertaining ones by Nora Roberts, I finally picked up Condé's book. I thought it would bore me. As it turns out, I couldn't put it down.

I had discovered Condé months before during an Africana studies course (we read Hérémakhonon). It stood out to me that she was Caribbean. We so oft hear of the slave trade bringing our ancestors to the New World. Jim Crow has etched such a deep line through the middle of the Slave's history in the world, that it is almost forgotten that slaves were displaced from their homes and brought to the Caribbean also. But there she was, someone whose quest for her origins resembled my own. She spoke to my subconscious, my insecurities, and divine femininity. So when I recognized another work of hers, I had to experience it.

Needless to say, I was not disappointed. I, Tituba has sealed this affair in blood. Her prose more closely resembles poetry. It's just beautifully written. So the next time you walk past a library, pop in and check it out....

Memorable quotes:
"Blessed is the love that carries man on the waters of oblivion. That makes him forget he is a slave. That rolls back the torment and fear."

"Life is too kind to men, whatever their color."

"There is something indecent about beauty in a man. Tituba, men shouldn't be beautiful!"

"Then with one skillful blow of the mallet he smashed my chains to pieces. He did the ame thing with my wrists while I screamed. I screamed while my blood, which for so many weeks had ciculated poorly, rushed back into my flesh, pricking my skin with a thousand darts. I screamed, and this scream, the terrified cry of a newborn baby, heralded my return to this world... Few people have the misfortune to be born twice."

"The truth always arrives too late because it walks slower than lies. Truth crawls at a snail's pace."

"Nevertheless I had to face facts. A child in fact is not the fruit of love but of chance."