Bone Black Response

Without a doubt, I can certainly relate to the tales portrayed in Bone Black. Because I am last to post, I made a point of trying NOT to read the responses of my cohorts, so that my responses will be exactly that, my own and without influence. Much of story reminds me of my upbringing, and especially that of my grandmother’s country upbringing. Because many of the details in the book ring true in my own life, these kinds of stories are dear to my heart and seem to act as windows to view past and present African American culture. 

Hooks’ craft technique of giving readers chapter by chapter of shorter sections (vignettes) was affective for me. This always left me wanting more information and excited to flip to see what the next chapter had to offer in reference to the last. Right off I asked myself, “What is the author trying to accomplish here?” Many of the chapters seem to be singular, in that each was a tale of it’s own. One chapter didn’t necessarily have to do with the next, but Hooks’ would find one intricate detail that connected each chapter to give the overall book a more rounded out feel. For instance, one chapter would end discussing something red, and the next chapter would pick up talking about the importance of a “red” wagon. (The wheelbarrow that the narrator and her brother loved so much.) Another chapter would end discussing a man, who ended up being the landlord’s son, before the next picked up on that “man” having a car. (Further, this being the same “car” they, the narrator and her sibling, loved to hid and play in). This craft technique is interesting and something I would be willing try.

However, the POV switched back and forth, which did bother me at one point. At the beginning of chapter 33, “It may have been the pretend Tom Thumb wedding… (97).” This really took me out of the storyline for a minute. I actually stopped for a pause, and began again. I think this is because it was the fist time in the story that the main character was not the narrator. I don’t necessarily think those types of shifts sour the overall book, but here, it was annoying for me because of how late in the book the shift came.

Some of the smoother narrative shifts, to me of course, occur when they happen earlier on. Like in Toni Morrison’s “A Mercy,” for instance. Each chapter is narrated by a different character from the beginning, so I knew earlier on what type of ride the book was going to be like. This doesn’t mean that I like predictable books. As a reader though, I would just prefer a more distinct pattern.

There were many evacuative things in this text that sparked my interests; the spankings with the switches and the ethnic dialog that came along with it, the differences between the lye soap and Ivory (being poor and having money), the wood burning stove, etc.) What stood out most to me was the hot comb, pressing hair in the kitchen, and the narrator’s meaning behind all of it. This was an important part of the story because, I think it really revealed a piece of the narrator’s character. While others, like her mother and sisters, may have thought she wanted her hair straighten to look a certain way, she was more concerned about crossing over into womanhood. The symbolism behind the straight hair was more important to her than anything.

Also, the age of discovery was big in the scenes where she and her mother interacted. She realized that they differed, and that she didn’t need to be married or a man’s approval at the risk of humiliating another. (This is in reference to the narrator’s father slapping her of course, and her mother portraying a look of pride in her husband’s actions). Lastly, the pace of the lines really helped in placing the reader into the narrator’s young mind. Shorter lines created a shorter thought process. This in comparison to compound phrases when adults were being portrayed.