I have always suggested books for my book club that I have read before because I am terrified to suggest anything blindly in fear that they will all hate it, and somehow know it was me who suggested it, and hate me for it. Good ole anxiety at play. Well I conquered that fear and suggested Jesmyn Ward’s award-winning novel Sing, Unburied, Sing, and could not be happier I did.

The story about how I came across this novel is a pretty cool one. For my birthday this year, my fiancee surprised me with tickets to see my favorite band, and a musician by the name of Geoff Rickly was one of the opening acts. I had never heard of him or any of his past bands before, but he was fantastic! During his set, he invited people to his merch stand to join his book club in which he would send a copy of his own book that would be coming out later that year, as well as a book from his own collection that he loves. My heart was aflutter at the chance to engage with someone about literature! I went to his merch stand and signed up to receive his novel Someone Who Isn’t Me (which I haven’t read yet, but it is in my giant stack of “want to read” novels), and he handed me the Jasmyn Ward title. He told me is is the most beautiful yet heart-wrenching novels he has read. He was right on the money.

This novel follows the story of a very dysfunctional family from the views of three main characters: Jojo, a boy entering his teenage years who is having to grow up faster than any child should. Leonie, Jojo’s mother who is addicted to drugs and also her child’s broken father, both of which take precedent over doing what’s right for her kids. And Richie, a lost soul who died years ago in prison when around Jojo’s age, and is wandering the Earth trying to put his soul to rest. It follows these characters as they take a road trip to Parchman Farm, the same prison Richie dies in, to retrieve Jojo’s father. While on this trip they experience moment after moment of physical and emotional heartache. I know it sounds like a real downer, but the writing is so poetic and palpable that the heartache resonates in such a way that is, as Goeff explained it, hauntingly beautiful.

As we talked through the novel in my book club at the Scottsdale Arabian Library, there were many people who couldn’t wrap their heads around the struggle and the life that these people lived, and were angry and confused at the choices being made by the characters, specifically Leonie, the mother. However, I chimed in as a person who has gone through my own abuse and neglect at the hands of my mother, and challenged them to understand that this mother was also dealt a very unfortunate hand, and while that is no excuse, it is an explanation as why she did the things she did. My own mother was dealt a very bad hand in life, and while I still wish she didn’t do what she did, I have come to peace with the fact that she didn’t do it out of malice, she was just overwhelmed with life and dealing with her own mental illness. And in this novel, this is happening to a black family in Mississippi which comes with its own level of trauma. What was endearing to hear is that those in this book club, most of which are white, said they want to read more novels written by black authors and more novels from characters whose perspectives are not always pretty.

Some of the standout moments in the book to me were the ones in which Leonie seems to neglect her children, but it almost seems that she is doing it out of jealousy for the close relationship they have. Kayla, the younger toddler-aged sister, doesn’t reach to her mother for comfort and instead looks to her brother Jojo. And every time something bad happens, Jojo looks at his mother with a mixture of disgust and disappointment, and is solely focused on protecting Kayla from her. It’s unclear if Leonie is acting this way because she misses her own brother who died many years earlier, because she knows she will never have the picture perfect life she thinks she should have with her children and their father, because the children love each other unconditionally which is something she never had, or a mixture of all of this. Leonie’s own mother tells Jojo:

“I never wanted you to be hungry Jojo…She ain’t never going to feed you…I hope I fed you enough. While I am here. So you carry it with you. Like a camel…Like a well, Jojo. Pull that water up when you need it.”

This metaphor of love being like a well resonated with me because it shows the symbiotic relationship love is. The water can evaporate and the well can go dry if it is not constantly filled. If you use too much of it too quickly, if you don’t let people fill it when they can, you may have to wait a bit to get what you need to cleanse yourself.

As mentioned, this story revolves around a black family in Mississippi. This lends to parts of the book illustrating the kind of life one can expect being black in the south. It explores the fact that even though slavery had been outlawed at the time of Richie’s time in prison, you could still get harsh punishments like three years in jail working the fields for something as small as stealing a load of bread. This is a different kind of slavery, and one that continues the ugly cycle of low socioeconomic status for many families to this day. Jojo experiences being held at gunpoint by a police officer for no good reason, and while Richie reminds him that they don’t send them to jail as young as him anymore, the fear you live with having a gun to your head and being put in handcuffs for no reason is a life sentence in and of itself. When thinking of the moment Jojo says,

“Even though it reminded me of so much cold, I think it would have been hot to touch. So hot it would have burned my fingerprints off.”

it is clear to me he has a fear of being erased. Him being a memory and nothing else to those around him. Him becoming a wondering spirit just like Richie because he would not understand why he died the way he did.

There is so much more imagery and beautiful symbology in this book, and I hope everyone takes the time to read it. If this isn’t the type of book for you, totally understand, and I hope my next recommendation is right for you. There was an interesting question posed during the book club. Why do we read? Is it to escape? To find characters and situations we can relate to? Is it purely for entertainment? Do you like a clean wrapped up ending, or do you like something more open ended to let you mind fill in the blanks? Honestly, I am not sure why specifically I like to read. I know I like to read just about any genre and style, and sometimes I do wonder why I am not more selective. Why are there some days I just can’t pick up a book, and others where I can’t put them down? It is a weird relationship I have with books, but I know it is one I will cherish until I turn my final page.

• Literature