Some of the most thrilling words I’ve read in literature
The library near me displays books, changing them every day or week or so. Today they had Roots by Alex Haley.
I read the book in college, I think in my first year, which would mean 1988-89. It wasn’t for class and it’s a long book so I don’t know how I found time for it. I don’t remember much of it, but there are a few words in it that nearly brought me to tears.
I’m pretty sure I found the book compelling. I don’t have to tell you what it’s about, but I remember a pattern of telling about a person’s life and times, starting with Kunta Kinte, then shifting to a descendant, telling that one’s life and times, and so on. I think I read it partly as storytelling based on history, partly more straight history.
It begins, “Early in the spring of 1750, in the village of Juffure, four days upriver from the coast of The Gambia, West Africa, a man-child was born to Omoro and Binta Kinte. Forcing forth from Binta’s strong young body, he was as black as she was, flecked and slippery with Binta’s blood, and he was bawling.”
Later chapters would end or begin by introducing a new baby. Each portrait would tell of the changing times and places from 1750 onward. The book told a portrait of each time and a portrait of American history.
The words that nearly brought me to tears, that floored me, that made me stop what I was doing and reflect on everything in life came at the end of a late chapter, page 853, nearly the end of the book. It tells of someone introducing a new baby. Each such introduction named the baby. It was useful to know their names to identify them, but I didn’t see any significance to any of their names. It’s not like I would know them.
Except in this late chapter. Leading up to the words that floored me, “Her heart pounding, and with Will gazing incredulously over her shoulder, Cynthia pulled back the blanket’s top fold—revealing a round brown face . . .” The book set me up to read the name of the next generation’s character.
Instead were the words that changed my world:
“The baby boy, six weeks old, was me.”
Suddenly the whole book changed from a nice story to reality, to my world, to our shared world. Since I felt I knew something about Haley from reading so much, I felt connected to very character in this book. It wasn’t just his story. It was all of our story.
Everything I’d ever learned in history changed from abstract to connected: JFK, Napoleon, Cleopatra, and so on, including the regular Joe’s on the street no one wrote about. They weren’t just abstract historical figures that existed in memories. They were genuine, real people who affected me not just through the sweep of history but through how they interacted with people who interacted with people and so on to me.
I don’t think I’ve picked up the book since I read it. I picked it up in the library to take pictures of the relevant pages to write about here. I’m not sure when I’ll reread the whole book. I remember my family watching the TV series in the 1970s, but remember it less than the book.
Anyway, if you haven’t read the book, I recommend it, and not just for the words I spoiled for you. It would be a stunning work even if it weren’t written well for its bold, audacious ideas. It is well written, so succeeds on many levels, not that I have to tell you.
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