uhhhh, hmmm. 2 1/2 stars
Judging by all the 4 and 5 star ratings for this book, I expected to be blown away. Or at least maybe, somewhat... fulfilled, satisfied, impressed (?)... I don't know, I expected to feel something positive, because of the superlatives lavished on this book and this author, by just about everyone, but, eh, I just ain't feeling it.
The main problem I had with the book, and it's a BIG problem because there are only 3 main voices telling the story, is that there was no difference in the "voice" between the 3 narrators. A few times I got confused because I thought I was still reading the thoughts of one of the other characters. And, I mean, there should be a huge difference between the inner voice of the young drug addicted mother Leonie and her 13 year old son, JoJo and/or a young uneducated black youth from, what, the 1950s? But there really wasn't much difference at all. In addition, they didn't speak true to their character's place in life (poor, rural black folks); they sounded too educated and insightful for the reality of the setting of their lives. These 3 characters weren't really brought to life for me which was a real shame because, uh, they are the whole friggin' point of the book. They remained flat and 2 dimensional and it was difficult to feel the emotional connection I need to really get into the story - to feel I understand what motivates that particular character and why they are acting in the way that they do. I don't need to like the character, I need to understand them.
The whole car ride didn't make sense because I couldn't stop thinking "this mother doesn't really care about these kids on a good day, why the fuck is she insisting on taking them on a god-awful road trip across the state, to a prison to pick up her man, the only person she actually loves???" (well, and do a drug deal along the way, wtf ? with her co-worker and fellow druggie seemingly along for the ride, why?) It did not ring true one bit. I couldn't get that thought out of my mind especially since the mom basically ignored the kids the whole trip and couldn't be bothered even though the toddler was sick and puking all over the place. IDK, whatever. It was pointless. Or maybe the author wanted to really hammer home the idea that this was a crappy mom? Yeah, we get it. Or, OR?, major plot device? Clunkily executed. You decide.
The mom inadvertently takes an overdose of meth and that whole interlude didn't ring true either. I've done some drugs back in the day (ahem) and I have, unfortunately, one time, taken too much meth and uh... I don't think it went down quite as depicted in this book. I'll spare the gory details. Then after all that, everyone covered in puke, kid still sick, everyone a little tense and on edge, especially Leonie, (ha) they finally arrive back home and immediately go to visit her man's family, right that minute, because, why not? Even though they hate her and her kids and are huge racists and never acknowledged her or the kids in the past. She didn't say "No baby, not today. I ain't feeling too hotsy right now. Let me at least go home and take a shower. Clean up the kids. Make a good impression." uh, nope.
I feel this could have been better. There was a story here. The ghosts did not bother me, which was surprising as I don't usually enjoy magical realism, but I can go there if it's done right. That wasn't the issue here. I knew it would be a major part of the story going into this. I was willing to accept that part of the story, no problem. It was these other issues, I've laid out, that had me shaking my head.
This kind of seemed like a mess of a book to be honest. It had a potential it didn't reach as far as I'm concerned. Too bad. For me, I guess, as all of the rest of you all loved it, omg.