They’re just on sad, painful constant display, droning Look at what happened to us. Slavery and colonization are blamed but not interrogated. This is a visceral, uncomfortable book that never for a moment lets you forget that the world is full of pain and sorrow, and even small joys are easily corrupted. Everyone is mean, vicious, and almost feral in the way they interact with each other and the world. The family struggles with abuse, addiction, and tragedy to a numbing extent, and there are no bright spots whatsoever in their sadness. ⠀⠀ĭespite that, I did not enjoy this book. Buchanan is primarily a poet and there’s a lot of craft on display here–she has a finely developed voice and I’m curious about her poetry after reading her memoir. The historical bits of this book lyrically acknowledge the rarely explored (and not always positive) connections between Black and Indigenous people in the Americas. It’s a memoir of the author’s multiracial family, who were coded Black by American caste norms but felt culturally closer to their Choctaw and Coharie Indigenous ancestors who purchased and integrated African slaves, then expelled their mixed descendants in a bid to gain federal registration and recognition from white politicians.
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