Friday, May 9, 2014

Boy, Snow, Bird

Hard to know where to start in describing my reaction to this novel by Helen Oyeyemi. I was drawn to it and puzzled by it and occasionally repelled by it. Boy Novak is the "name" given to the narrator for parts 1 and 3 of the book. Snow is her step-daughter, and Bird is her daughter (also the narrator for part 2 of the book. Boy is raised by an unimaginably cruel father, Frank; the mother's identity and whereabouts are unknown--until the very end of the book. As soon as she possibly can, Boy runs away from Manhattan and travels as far as the bus will take her with the $20 odd she stole from her father, which, as it turns out, is Flax Hills, Massachussetts. She is blond and attractive and eventually marries dark haired, good looking professor turned jewelry artist, Arturo Whitman. Arturo is widowed and has a young daughter, Snow, who is as pale as her name. Arturo's mother and sister live next door. Boy is initially infatuated with Snow, but when Bird is born, Boy takes a dislike to Snow and sends her to live with an aunt and uncle--a sister of Arturo's she did not know about until she married Arturo and received flowers from her. Bird's birth raises rather a host of problems as it is obvious that she has Negro blood, which eventually reveals the fact that Arturo, his sister Vivian, and his parents have been "passing"--it is the middle of the 20th century and racism is still blatant and burdensome. The other sister was sent away by her mother because she was too dark to "pass." Boy loves Bird, but is somewhat cool and distant and will never explain why she sent Snow away. But in part 2, Bird discovers a letter from her step-sister, addressed to Bird but hidden by Boy. Bird is now 13 and dealing with racism in her small town, as is her best friend, Louis Chen. When Snow finally comes to visit the following Thanksgiving, the sisters reconnect and Boy and Snow reconcile to a degree. Boy's best friend Mia, an investigative journalist, uncovers a devastating secret about Boy's own life that totally knocked me over. I'm honestly not sure why Oyeyemi chose to include this plot twist. There is always a sense of both the magical and the sinister woven throughout what is a very compelling narrative in this novel. The whole notion of mirrors, symbolizing outward appearance, also plays a key role for Boy, Snow and Bird who often see something--or nothing--in mirrors that differs from what others see. You'll have to decide for yourself if you like this book. Reviews were favorable: here is the one from the NYT; and from The Guardian.

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