Title: Sing, Unburied, Sing*
Author: Jesmyn Ward
Rating: 4.25 stars / 5 stars
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Favorite Quote: “He doesn’t understand what it means, to have the first thing you ever done right by your mama be to usher in her gods. To let her go.” Ward, Jesmyn. Sing, Unburied, Sing. Scribner, 2017.
Review: If you’ve been following my Instagram (hello, shameless plug), you’ll know that this is the first Ward novel I’ve read, despite having built a bit of a collection of her books in the last couple years. This was in part because I’d read so much about her books that I was convinced she would become a favorite author of mine, and I was a little bit nervous about whether the books could live up to those expectations.
If you’re in the same mindset, all I can say is, fear not, my friends. If the rest of Jesmyn Ward’s books are anything like Sing, Unburied, Sing, I would recommend starting today. Read them all. Because this book was amazing.
Sing, Unburied, Sing is a novel told from multiple perspectives (honestly, one of my favorite structures when done well, which this book absolutely was). The main points of view are JoJo, a young boy living with his grandparents (and sometimes mom), who is often charged with caring for his younger sister, Leonie, JoJo’s mom, who struggles with substance use issues and managing the grief of her brother’s murder when they were younger (and still seeing him throughout her day-to-day life despite his passing years before), and later in the book, Ronnie. (We’ll get back to Ronnie in a bit.)
Plotwise, the novel follows Leonnie and JoJo, as well as a few other characters, as they go to pick up JoJo’s father (Leonnie’s boyfriend) after he is released from prison. Readers learn early on that Leonnie and her friend are bringing drugs (I think meth) on this trip. In the background of the main plot, there is also the past that hasn’t quite released its grip on the characters: the death of Given (Leonnie’s brother) and the time that Leonnie’s father spent in prison when he was younger, and the current risk of Leonnie’s mother passing because she has advanced stage cancer.
In other words, this relatively short novel has a lot going. And for the most part, Ward presents a masterclass in balancing complex themes and situations. While I have a few criticisms (mostly things I wanted more of) that will be discussed below, I want to start by examining what is working in this novel. AKA…most of it.
I read the physical book for part of this novel and listened to the audiobook for the other part. And I have to say, even without the alternating voices from the audiobook when the narrative shifts from one perspective to another, Ward has captured the unique voices of each of her characters so successfully, that it is abundantly clear, even without the chapter headings, which character is driving the narrative at any given moment.
Another aspect of this book that I found to be incredibly well crafted and empathetic was the parts of this novel that dealt with addiction, Leonnie’s in particular. I wrote about this a bit in my Transcendent Kingdom review, but it applies here as well: writing about addiction is hard. And many authors don’t capture the complexities of it. Ward does, here. Leonnie is not flawless. Many of her actions are frustrating or anger-inducing, and it makes sense that her son resents her and that her daughter doesn’t seek comfort from her. But she’s not demonized. She’s not even written to be pitied (another trap that many authors fall into). She’s a fully dynamic character, with positive and negative attributes, and she happens to have a substance use disorder that is likely rooted, at least in part, in the traumas she’s experienced throughout her life. That Ward captures the complexities of this - both from Leonnie’s point of view as well as from JoJo’s - shows her empathy and her skill as a writer.
There was also a scene in this novel that worked particularly well, but I want to highlight a major TRIGGER WARNING as well as a SPOILER ALERT. If you find depictions of police brutality triggering or damaging to your mental health, please stop reading now. Your mental health is always more important than a book or a book review.
On the drive home from the penitentiary, Leonnie’s car is stopped by a police officer. A few things happen in this scene that are crafted well for purposes of building suspense, but also for depicting the very real and devastating adultification of and demonization of Black male children in society, but by police in particular. In this scene, when it becomes clear that it won’t be possible to hide the drugs before the police officer arrives at the car, Leonnie swallows it. The descriptions of this (and the after effects) are hard to read. Ward captures the body’s reaction to an overdose in graphic, disturbing detail. But it’s also accurate. And (as previously discussed), she does so without casting a more judgment, something that so often happens when discussing overdoses.
The even more impactful part of this scene, though, is how the police officer treats JoJo. JoJo is a child. Full stop. And yet, the officer points a loaded gun at him. The officer handcuffs him. The officer searches his body. In that moment, Ward depicts how Black children, especially Black male children, are so often at risk of racist profiling and State-sanctioned violence. I’m a white woman, so I’ve never been subjected to this type of fear or threat of violence (nor is it appropriate for me to center myself in this conversation, so please read the following just as context for why I thought this scene was well written). But I grew up less than an hour from where Tamir Rice was murdered by a police officer. I work with marginalized populations who have countless tales of how their interactions with police are terrifying. And I held my breath reading this scene. Because I know enough about the world, about America, to know that JoJo may not have walked away from that interaction. Even though he was a child. This scene worked, such as it is, because of how Ward was able to capture the terror of that moment. The fear of that moment. And the very real threat of that moment. This is a novel, but that moment is all too real.
Now let’s get to my main criticism of this novel (and, as promised, let’s return to Ronnie). Ronnie is, for lack of a better word, a ghost. His perspective appears a bit later in the novel, and it becomes clear that JoJo is the only person who can see him. But Ronnie was in prison at the same time as JoJo’s grandfather (known by Ronnie as River) and JoJo’s grandfather was, in many ways, Ronnie’s protector.
Ronnie’s story is told in pieces throughout the novel, mirroring the way that JoJo himself learned the story from his grandfather. He heard the beginning and the middle time and time again. But never the end.
Once Ronnie returns home with JoJo, the readers, and JoJo learn the end of Ronnie’s story. And this is where my criticism lies. Whereas most of the book balances these complex storylines with ease, and manages to fully develop them, this part of the novel felt rushed. I would have liked more foundation, perhaps, or maybe just a bit more foreshadowing, because the revelations of Ronnie’s stories ultimately felt jarring in a way that the rest of the novel didn’t.
About that Quote: Oof. This quote. One of the themes explored throughout the novel is parenthood, and the struggles that come with it. Readers are privy to Leonnie’s parents struggling with the murder of their oldest child, and having to provide a home for Leonnie’s own children and care for them when she is unable to. Readers also see Leonnie’s feelings of parenthood - the resentment she often harbors against her own children, the violence bubbling underneath her surface that sometimes she can’t suppress, and her feelings of isolation when it becomes clear that her children don’t turn to her in times of need. And then there’s JoJo, a child himself, but assuming a caretaker role in his sister’s life. And this quote captures an important dichotomy developed throughout the novel - the difference between parenthood and childhood. Here, Leonnie is both a mother and a daughter, and in that moment she is struggling in both roles, trying to fulfill her mother’s request but knowing that JoJo is angry and resentful and can’t understand.
TW for Sing, Unburied, Sing: racism, violence (often related to racism), killing, child death, drug use, overdose, police brutality, child abuse
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