I blogged a while back about The Help. In the end, I said it was good, not great. That was a concession both to the engaging style and overwhelming popularity of the book. The book and movie (I haven't seen it) may cause people to consider someone else's experience for a moment. Maybe for the first time -- so that is a good thing, right?
My post made an attempt to acknowledge my issues, which were hard to articulate. But a comment on a blog I enjoy led me to another two blogs that helped me figure out why The Help bothered me. And then I felt a little ashamed for copping out about my feelings. I couldn't figure out how to link to the first, gentler blog. But if you can handle a strong rejection, check out Bernestine Singley's "Sniffing Dirty Laundry: A True Story from 'The Help's Daughter." It's written from the other side of the story, and as you can tell from the title, it is not sugarcoated. There is language.
I hope you read it and are bothered a little.
PS Here's a book recommendation from Dr. Singley: the series about "Blanche White, the black-maid-turned-detective in Barbara Neely’s outstanding series of the same name... Now that your book club has devoured ‘the help,’ how about recommending Neely’s books to them as the rest of that story."
...Has anyone read these?
5 comments:
love your comment; when we lived in Johannesburg RSA we rented a home that came with 'help'. Evie was in our home, among us and with us, every single day. She went about the business of keeping the house beautiful, windows squeaky clean, floors polished, linens cleaned and changed. She did our laundry, but I was reluctant. I also caught her doing our dishes sometimes but I would put one of my kids on the task as soon as we heard her in the kitchen. Every morning when I woke I thought about her being with me all day long; seeing me make mistakes and watching me live (or not live) as the kind of person I want to truly be. I'll never forget the day she heard me yelling at my toddler, who had severely misbehaved. I looked at Evie as I raged down the stairs, we made eye contact, and I was so mad I kept on yelling at Molly with Evie watching and hearing me in my rage. I repented every day (and still do on some days) for misbehaving in front of her.
I liked reading the help because it was the first time I had any chance to hear a voice from Evie's point of view; I'm glad there are other books like the one this blog recommended, to give an even stronger voice to the strong women who carried the south on their backs for so many years; and vicariously to the many amazing black women who have carried Africe (and still do) on their backs even today.
I did love Evie; I know the blogger would want to let me know that Evie didn't love me back. But I hope she is wrong. I tried hard to treat Evie with deep appreciation and respect. I tried to convey to her that whatever those who paid her salary expected of her was between she and them, and I tried hard to show gratitude towards her many efforts to make my life easier and more comfortable. Many times she came to me, asking me to allow her to do more for me than I let her (I was homeschooling our kids at the time, so she saw me in our make-shift classroom for many hours of the day), and I worked hard to maintain my own independence as a homemaker and mother, awknowledging all the time that her housekeeping made our lives very luxurious and much easier on me.
I can't wait to try these other books, and thanks for being honest about your reaction to 'The Help'. I hope its ok that I enjoyed the read, and with every page I turned I thought of Evie and how much she mattered to me when I was raising my family in Africa.
Katie, I think your situation was different -- precisely because of appreciation, respect and gratitude you showed her. And I suspect that she loved you at least a little, for that if not because of how easy it is to love you!
The blogger I wrote about has a lot of strong feelings that she expresses strongly. But behind the harsh words is a lot of truth.
Sharon, we saw The Help yesterday, and after reading Dr. Singley's post, I have to say I disagree with her main premise. I didn't view the movie as another "white person saves black people" movie at all. I came away thinking exactly the opposite.
In scene after scene we saw images of strong black women and flawed white women -- even with the main example of the "good" white family. Only one white character stood out as saintly; the rest were sinners. For the blacks portrayed, it was the exact opposite. And in the end, I distinctly noticed how all the credit for writing the anonymous book in the story seemed to go to the black character, not the white one.
The only drawback in the movie for me came after we left the theater when I asked Mirjam if it was based on a true story and she revealed to me that it's not so much a memoir as a novel. Having not read the book, I think the movie is in the running for best picture, best lead actress, and best supporting actress (for the black women, not the white women).
Maybe I haven't spent enough time in the South, or maybe Dr. Singley has too much history there, but I felt like her post wasn't so much about the movie as it was about her pent up frustrations from her youth. Valid yes, but having little to do with the basic storyline of The Help.
Hey Sharon, I stumbled on another reason why you should come to book group! I enjoy hearing different opinions. And I can recognize that reasonable people disagree. I went to the other link knowing that and fully conscious that this was going to probably be a very different view from mine.
But she was so full of ugliness, of old grudges and hatred, that the effect was more poisonous than persuasion. I am well aware that things were (and still are) very inequitable. I know that many of the "helpers" are justifiably resentful toward their employers and the children. However, I know that many make joy wherever they can in their lives, even while hoping for change in the future. I am sorry for the woman who phoned, only trying to communicate her admiration for this blogger's grandmother, and instead she received an earful for past grievances for which she may have had very little responsibility.
And that is one of the things I liked most about The Help, that it presented very different sides of the issue- some people were horrible, others were kind. The reality is that the fictional maids in The Help probably felt differently about their situations, but we really only delved into 2. I guess I disagree with the other blogger because I feel like most people who take care of children love them- they may be brats, they may not deserve the kindness, but love is a natural result of service- even compelled and paid service. I feel like I can say this, because I was a nanny to 3 very wealthy and spoiled children, and I grew to love them. I didn't have the racial inequality that these characters did, so I know it goes deeper than that. Perhaps this woman's mother was treated so poorly by her employer (and other whites) that the resentment burned out the love.
In the end, the thing I appreciated most about the book were the characters- I missed them and reading about their thoughts. Sure, there are probably discrepancies in the details, and obviously people feel differently about what actually happened in the Civil Rights Movement, but the people who lived through it had different opinions, too- even within the same race. I'm sure that those things happened for her, but better situations happened for others. It's easy for me to say "Look for the good in any situation and you'll be happier for it" when I live in privilege, but that doesn't falsify it, either.
Have you read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks? If so, what did you think?
I agree with you, JoEllen. I think that woman's bitterness and anger greatly undermines her point. In the comments of her post someone pointed out how her mother's grace and awareness of how much that probably neglected little rich girl needed someone's care. And how her mother gave it. The author's response to that comment was softer and thoughtful. I think there is a lot of ugliness and being ugly about the ugliness does not help. But looking at it, sometimes, does.
I LOVED the Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. It is well written and so interesting! Also heartbreaking, as her family did not benefit from the sale of those HeLa cells, especially when so many others have.
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