Book of Night Women
- Home
- / Join our programs
- / Learning Resources
- / N4 Reads
- / Book of Night Women
|
"That's the Irish people all over – they treat a serious thing as a joke and a joke as a serious thing."
Sean O'Casey
How can we acknowledge both the good and bad in our past so that we see these experiences for the strength they give us in the present? In this collection of teaching ideas around the memoir Angela’s Ashes, N4 founder and novelist Colum McCann offers a variety of ways of exploring the work of his good friend and mentor Frank McCourt.
Prince McVeigh and the Turner Blasphemies, Kara Walker, 2021 How can art help us bear witness to our own discomfort – the shared histories that we hide from and the personal ambivalences that we can’t yet resolve in ourselves? In this collection of teaching ideas around the novel Book of Night Women, N4 founder and novelist Colum McCann offers a variety of ways of exploring the work of N4 artist Marlon James. Why Read The Book of Night Women?Colum McCann Colum McCann is President and Co-Founder of Narrative 4, which he began to help shape in 2004. He is the author of six novels and three collections of stories. Born and raised in Dublin, Ireland, Colum has been the recipient of many international honours. His most recent novel, Apeirogon, was released in February 2020 and was a New York Times bestseller, and winner of several international prizes. By the time Toni Morrison published Beloved, her fifth novel, she had already won the National Book Critics Circle Award and was an acclaimed novelist. Yet it was Beloved that catapulted her career into the stratosphere, so much so that Morrison was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1993 for her body of work. This immense critical acclaim alone is enough to warrant our attention. Yet each of us readers must, at some point, approach the novel for ourselves, forming our own opinion.
When a reader first encounters Beloved, it has a similar effect of being set down in the middle of a corn maze. There is no clear path through, and the effect is profoundly disorienting. Even Morrison commented upon this initial encounter with her work, suggesting that she wanted readers to be thrust into “compelling confusion,” likening our placement into her literary world to the same kind of disorientation of an African being kidnapped and thrust into a completely foreign place.
When I first read the book, I experienced that very confusion. I didn’t understand what I was reading, but I understood it was something momentous. At the end of the second chapter, I flipped back to the beginning of the book and started over. I needed to more fully comprehend this 1873 Ohio setting, this Sethe and Paul D and Baby Suggs. What was this Sweet Home place?
I kept returning to a line of dialogue uttered by Sethe in just the first few pages of the novel: “I got a tree on my back and a haint in my house, and nothing in between but the daughter I am holding in my arms. No more running—from nothing.” Ooh, Sethe! Now this was a character fully formed from the very first page, a Black woman both powerful and vulnerable, filled with pain and rage, but also with the single-minded clarity of a survivor.
Let’s be clear. There is significant trauma in the novel. No wonder it is often referenced by the misguided folks who like to ban books. The story of a family struggling with the memories of enslavement is not a fairy tale to be enjoyed like a warm glass of milk on a cold winter night. In some ways, one might even call the novel an American horror story. It certainly contains elements of horror and gothic and the supernatural. The house on Bluestone Road is haunted by a ghost. In African American parlance, we call them “haints.” But Baby Suggs, the mother-in-law of the main character Sethe, declares there is no point in moving. “Not a house in the country ain’t packed to its rafters with some dead Negro’s grief,” she says.
That legacy of hauntings is taken up again in Angela Flournoy’s 2015 novel The Turner House, when one of the main characters, Frances Turner, disputes the idea of a haunted house in 1958 Detroit. “There ain’t no haints in Detroit,” he insists. Yet if you have read that contemporary novel, one written in the literary legacy Morrison left behind for all writers, but especially for African American writers, you know that our country is still haunted by its history and many old houses still possess some version of cultural memory.
Yet Beloved is not a novel lacking hope. The characters are rebuilding their lives after a painful past, and in that gap they try desperately to hold on to the tenuous threads that connect them to each other. Morrison does not offer simple platitudes for her characters’ faith in the future; instead, she embraces their full humanity and complexity.
As my grandmama would say, You say that to say what, child? What I’m saying is that this is the kind of book that can change the way you think of history, the way you think of America, and the way you think of yourself. It is a book that reminds us of the resilience of African American people, the strength of spirit in all of us who call this country home.
In every book I have written, I have tried to capture that remarkable spirit. In my latest novel Take My Hand, I have crafted two sisters whose love for each other and deep connection sustains them throughout the book. When my main character Civil Townsend first meets them in the excerpt you will read, she is only just beginning to understand how the bonds of family will empower these young girls to survive a life-altering event.
It was as if Morrison was saying to me, to us—let me tell you what the novel can do that no other art form can accomplish. Let me show you how a painful tale can be told with heartrending beauty. Let me speak to you of communities and the individuals that inhabit them. Morrison taught us that history was not something to sweep away and dismiss as something shameful. In Beloved, the greatest historical novel ever published in the English language, Morrison challenges us to more fully understand what it means to be American.
The Book of Night Women is in turns, a slave narrative, a story of rebellion, an examination of language, a microscope to the past, a telescope to the future, and a testament, as William Faulkner would have said, to the human heart in conflict with itself. It is a book of rip and rhythm. Of flesh and blood. Of love and longing. Of violence and tenderness. Of the healing glance amid all the hatred. "This is why we dark," writes James, "cause in the night we disappear and become spirit." This is also why Marlon James writes -- to give voice to the ongoing human spirit that cannot, in the end, disappear. The Book of Night Women does what good books should do: it leaves us wishing that the day -- and the night -- can continue. Like the best, and most dangerous, of stories, it seems as if it was just waiting to be told … to all of us. Marlon James has been an important member of the Narrative 4 family for almost a decade now, supporting us and guiding us at many turns. It is a pleasure for us to showcase his work to high school teachers and students. And let’s be fully honest at the same time: The Book of Night Women is a tough book. Some of it comes with a tender warning because a portion of the material does not shy away from the crude realities of life (violence, rape, abuse, language). It’s a teacher’s choice, but for me it’s a book that the best students will take to and remember for their whole lives – and it deals with one of the most important conversations in the world, the shame of slavery and the dignity of the individual in the face of a mercurial reality. A student wrote to me after reading this book and said: “Slavery is a tragedy so immense and so unfathomable that it’s difficult to determine the edges of its impact. I worried for Lilith’s survival, grimaced at the blows against her, and wondered how the system of slavery that shackled her remained in place. James imagines a slave’s life on a Jamaican plantation so we can consider all of the real slaves on the real plantations.” What The Book of Night Women does so powerfully is that it shakes us out of our ruts of ordinary perception. It is profoundly authentic and yet distinctly contemporary at the same time. It’s a brave text. It’s an enlightening text. It’s a feminist text. It’s a political text. It’s a human text. It uniquely verifies the experience of storytelling. And in it, the ethical imagination becomes paramount. The Book of Night Women is, in short, a great book. It opens up the ribcage and twists our hearts backwards and forwards until it rests, once again, within us, changed. Questions and Understandings for a UnitStudents could explore the following questions: What happens when the past and present intersect? What is the impact of our history on our present identity?
How does what we remember reveal who we are?
What does it mean to heal? What does one need to begin healing, even while in the midst of suffering?
How do we create and maintain a community?
How does the social outcast help us understand what we’re trying to ignore? What do they ask us to change in our communities and in ourselves?
How do we cope with deep longing? How do we move on? How do we decide when it’s time to move on?
How does an environment influence populations of people over multiple generations?
What does it mean to be free?
What responsibility (if any) does the individual have to the family? When does that responsibility end (if it does)? When should it end (if it should)?
Students could investigate the following understandings:
Stories we believe about ourselves impact the way we navigate the world.
Becoming free is a process. As Morrison said, “[f]reeing yourself is one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self [is] another.”
Communities are integral in shaping and reshaping the stories that humans share.
Stories are living and ever-evolving. Students could explore the following questions:
Students could investigate the following understandings:
Sample Teaching IdeasENGLISH Things Fall Apart Character Narration
Starting with Chapter 20, there are a series of chapters narrated by individual characters. We get to hear Sethe, Denver, and Beloved through their own words. What makes the characters sound different in these chapters?
ACTIVITY List the distinguishing characteristics of each character’s voice. Discuss with a partner the elements that make each of the women’s voices distinctive.
Next, select a neutrally-narrated chapter and rewrite a portion as if it were narrated by a character. For example, you may write about finding Sethe in the woods from Amy’s perspective, or you may allow Sixo to explain his thoughts about freedom as he walks to meet the thirty-mile woman. How would Amy sound? How might Sixo explain the principle behind his trips? What would their verbal tics be? Would they use witticisms, religious imagery, or humor? Use what you gather from observing and listening to your selected character to inform your writing.
Chinua Achebe’s 1959 masterpiece Things Fall Apart provides readers with an insight into Igbo society just before the white missionaries’ invasion of their land. The invasion of the colonizing force threatens to change almost every aspect of Igbo society; from religion, traditional gender roles and relations, family structure to trade. In some sense, The Book of Night Women is the opposite. Even though it happens far away from Africa, it’s a portrait of West African people post-European intervention. If you haven’t read Things Fall Apart (you should!), read the first two chapters here. What are some major differences between the protagonists’ lives before and after European contact—in freedom and in slavery? How was the idea of community altered? Do the Night Women better reflect the old sense of community than the slaves in Montpelier generally? Was there anything that European colonization and slavery did not destroy? HISTORY “Unlearning” history In the acknowledgments section, James writes “Thanks to the history I learned and the history I had to unlearn.” What does it mean to “unlearn” history? Identify some myths or oversimplifications that are commonly taught in history classes. For example, you could look into Christopher Columbus’s interactions with native people in the New World, or slavery in the American south, or the framing of the Civil Rights movement. Can you find primary sources that challenge the once-prevailing narrative on your issue? How would you change how your topic is taught? FILM African American Vernacular English African-American Vernacular English (AAVE), also known as Ebonics, encompasses the vocabulary, grammar, and pronunciation of English spoken by some Black American communities. It is difficult to trace the roots of AAVE: documentation of slave speech is limited and unreliable. When slaves came to the Americas, they spoke a variety of West African languages. This PBS article explores two explanations for the development of AAVE. One group of linguists argues that slaves learned the English that white colonists in that region spoke, and another group views AAVE as a creole linked with other English-based creoles found throughout the African diaspora. How does AAVE persist and evolve in the modern age? Where do you find AAVE in your daily life? What words and phrases do you hear? Who uses AAVE on social media? What words and phrases have non-black people adopted? Do you use words or phrases that come from AAVE? |