I like stories about vengeance because they, by definition, have to center a character’s goals and obsessions. Great storytellers take that fixation and use it to probe the experiences and ideas that fuel the desire for revenge. Does the avenger truly understand what they are embarking on? Is the object of their ire truly deserving of that wrath? I like questions like these because they foreground the role of desire in decision-making, and desire is always personal, circumscribed by our appetites, biases, and intentions. I care little about a character being likable. I want to know what they like and to see what they’re willing to do to get it.
In Atlanta, Kenny Bomar is a biochemist-turned-coffee-shop-owner in denial about his divorce and grieving his stillborn daughter. Chemicals killed their…
I read The Street a few years after I moved out of Harlem, where this novel is set. I was immediately struck by the continuities between Petry’s depressed 1940s Harlem and the gentrified neighborhood I encountered in the 2010s. Petry looked past myth and legacy and observed people and institutions. I think her story felt so resonant decades later because she could see the circuitry and infrastructure of New York City, and that insight informs her storytelling at every level. The Street’s gut-wrenching climax lands because, leading up to it, Petry so skillfully catalogs the injustices that can flow through one life, one place. It’s not a classical revenge story, but it totally is.
With a new introduction by TAYARI JONES, author of An American Marriage
'This is a wonderful novel - the prose is clear, the plot is page-turning, the characters are utterly believable' CHIMAMANDA NGOZI ADICHIE
'Ann Petry's first novel, The Street, was a literary event in 1946, praised and translated around the world - the first book by a black woman to sell more than a million copies . . . Her work endures not merely because of the strength of its message but its artistry' NEW YORK TIMES
'My favorite type of novel, literary with an astonishing plot . .…
Invisible Man, another Harlem novel, is deeply concerned with comeuppance. The titular character is a bit of a cipher at the beginning of the story, but as he is increasingly railroaded, deceived, and exploited he grows certain that he must shake all the forces bearing down on him. That realization that gaining freedom will piss off his many adversaries, and his struggle to secure his autonomy as the novel comes to a head, always strikes me as vengeful.
NATIONAL BOOK AWARD WINNER • NATIONAL BESTSELLER • In this deeply compelling novel and epic milestone of American literature, a nameless narrator tells his story from the basement lair of the Invisible Man he imagines himself to be.
He describes growing up in a Black community in the South, attending a Negro college from which he is expelled, moving to New York and becoming the chief spokesman of the Harlem branch of "the Brotherhood," before retreating amid violence and confusion.
Originally published in 1952 as the first novel by a then unknown author, it remained on the bestseller list for…
I first read Sula for a college English class and remember the discussions of the book, often centering on the likeability of the title character. This annoyed me greatly because so much of the novel is about how being liked has so little to do with who you are or how you treat others. Sula figures this out very early in life, and she uses that awareness to wreak havoc on her gossipy and superstitious town. Lots of revenge tales traffic in spectacular reversals and gratuitous body counts, but Sula’s vengeance takes the form of sustained indifference to other people’s gazes and anxieties. It ends in tragedy technically, but in my reading, Sula gets the last laugh.
'Extravagantly beautiful... Enormously, achingly alive... A howl of love and rage, playful and funny as well as hard and bitter' New York Times
As young girls, Nel and Sula shared each other's secrets and dreams in the poor black mid-West of their childhood. Then Sula ran away to live her dreams and Nel got married.
Ten years later Sula returns and no one, least of all Nel, trusts her. Sula is a story of fear - the fear that traps us, justifying itself through perpetual myth and legend. Cast as a witch by the people who resent her strength, Sula…
Tess of the d’Urbervilles immerses you in the tragic life of a milkmaid who is trampled on by the world yet always committed to finding happiness. There are passages in this tragic book that bask in the simple joys of walking and laboring, and that pastoral bliss perfectly ballasts the book’s queasy accounts of the routine violence inflicted on its heroine. The plot eventually features an explicit act of revenge, but I think the constant attempts to evade her fate and escape her circumstances are the more interesting moments of retribution.
'She looked absolutely pure. Nature, in her fantastic trickery, had set such a seal of maidenhood upon Tess's countenance that he gazed at her with a stupefied air: "Tess- say it is not true! No, it is not true!"'
Young Tess Durbeyfield attempts to restore her family's fortunes by claiming their connection with the aristocratic d'Urbervilles. But Alec d'Urberville is a rich wastrel who seduces her and makes her life miserable. When Tess meets Angel Clare, she is offered true love and happiness, but her past catches up with her and she faces an agonizing moral choice.
I recommend the entire Broken Earth trilogy, but the final book does the most interesting things with the series’ latticework of narrative symmetry. By this point, it’s clear that a mother and her daughter are the centerpieces of the story, and that they are both on track to collide. As they draw nearer and their journeys beget staggering losses and sacrifices, they switch polarities and the daughter, once meek, challenges her warrior mother, who has pacified after a life of war and loss. And amid all this is a story about why the Earth, which is a living being, rages against humanity. The layers amplify the thrills of the payoffs and reversals, and subtly unpack the cyclicity of revenge.
WINNER OF THE HUGO AWARD WINNER OF THE NEBULA AWARD WINNER OF THE LOCUS AWARD FOR BEST FANTASY An Amazon Best Book of the Year
The incredible conclusion to the record-breaking triple Hugo award-winning trilogy that began with the The Fifth Season
The Moon will soon return. Whether this heralds the destruction of humankind or something worse will depend on two women. Essun has inherited the phenomenal power of Alabaster Tenring. With it, she hopes to find her daughter Nassun and forge a world in which every outcast child can grow up safe. For Nassun, her mother's mastery of the…
In Atlanta, Kenny Bomar is a biochemist-turned-coffee-shop-owner in denial about his divorce and grieving his stillborn daughter. Chemicals killed their child, leaching from a type of plant the government is hiding in Black neighborhoods. Kenny’s coping mechanisms are likewise chemical and becoming more baroque—from daily injections of lethal snake venom to manufacturing designer drugs. As his grief turns corrosive, it taints every person he touches.
Black epidemiologists Retta and Ebonee are called to the scene when a mysterious black substance is found to have killed a high school girl. Investigating these “blackouts” sends the women down separate paths of blame and retribution as two seemingly disparate narratives converge in a cinematic conclusion.
I’ve always been fascinated by group dynamics, large and small. Why things functioned well, why they didn’t. It’s possible my ability to empathize and use humor as a consensus-builder is the reason I was elected president of a homeowners association, a music production association, and even an agricultural group. Books were not particularly involved in this fascination! But in recent years, experiencing the breakdown of civility and trust in our political and cultural discourse, I’ve taken a more analytical view of the dynamics. These books, in their very different ways, have taught me lessons about life, understanding those with different beliefs, and finding ways to connect and move forward.
We’ve all experienced the overwhelming level of political and social divisiveness in our country. This invisible “virus” of negativity is, in part, the result of the name-calling and heated rhetoric that has become commonplace among commentators and elected leaders alike.
My book provides a clear perspective on the historical and modern-day causes of our nation's divisive state. It then proposes easy-to-understand solutions—an action plan for our elected leaders and citizens as well. Rather than a scholarly treatment of a complex topic, the book challenges us to take the obvious steps required of those living in a free democracy. And it…
Uniting the States of America: A Self-Care Plan for a Wounded Nation
Lyle Greenfield's "Uniting the States of America―A Self-Care Plan for a Wounded Nation" is a work of nonfiction and opinion. Incorporating the lessons of history and the ideas and wisdom of many, it is intended as both an educational resource and a call-to-action for citizens concerned about the politically and culturally divided state of our Union. A situation that has raised alarm for the very future of our democracy.
First, the book clearly identifies the causes of what has become a national crisis of belief in and love for our country. How the divisiveness and hostility rampant in our political…
