Book thirteen in my Aspen Words 2022 longlist read-through. And one of the few that I had really been exposed to prior to the release of the longlist, as I received an ALC of the audiobook from Libro.fm. Which is why it's ending up as one of the last books I'm getting to, since I knew I had access to listen whenever I was ready, and didn't have to plan around library waitlists, etc.
Libertie is the coming-of-age story of the titular Libertie Sampson, a young Black girl living in Reconstruction-era Brooklyn. Her mother is a doctor with a very particular dream for the future, of herself and her daughter jointly practicing medicine together. She even figures out a way to send Libertie to medical school to further prepare her for that planned joint future. But at school, Libertie, who was already chafing at her mother’s strictures for her life and questioning this "one" way to life a life of freedom and purpose, finds herself drifting away from medical studies and into a friendship with two women studying music, and the magic and poetry in that study. When a Haitian man she meets on a visit home to her mother proposes, promising a life of freedom and equality together if she joins him on the island, Libertie says yes. But upon arrival, she realizes that, while there is more than one way to live a life in freedom, there is also more than one way to live a life of boundaries and subservience. And Libertie struggles to find her own definitions, and path towards freedom, for herself and future generations.
I have such conflicting feelings about this book and I honestly hardly know how to rate or review it. I feel like, let me just start with the positive. Libertie is the kind of authentic MC that a reader love-hates reading. Her choices are so relatable in their questinableness. She is so often getting in her own way, in a "I'm my own worst enemy" style, and yet, that's what makes her so human, because who among us hasn't also made choices that, looking back, we cannot explain? Especially in this coming-of-age sense, where she knows that what she sees of her mother's life and the reality of life as a free Black woman, in the North and during the closing days of the Civil War, but still a Black woman, are limiting in a way she cannot abide. Libertie's anger and chafing are so understandable, as is her inability to figure out how to break free and follow her own path (or even to know what she might want that path to be). So, when she makes decisions to spite her mother, while simultaneously not speaking her truth when the moment arises for it, and she ends up with myriad regrets (that the reader can definitely see coming, in general, if not with specificity), I was both cringing and applauding the truth in the storytelling. It was also strange though, because this whole novel was so internally told, from Libertie's perspective and feelings, that despite the unique-ness of the story, her like as a free Black woman in the post-Civil War time period in Brooklyn and Haiti (places that are not usually highlighted from that time), the setting seemed distant and background. And I would have loved a bit more of it.
I want to also highlight that Greenidge has written about a time period, place(s) and lived experience that I cannot remember ever having read before. I'm going to list a few of the themes that sort of stood out to me, but the basic point that I want to make, before getting into particulars, is that she did a phenomenal job bringing together so many complex situational details into a narration that is both thorough and accessible. The novel opens with a rudimentary/first-steps exploration into understanding the workings of mental health as similar to a disease of the body, but of the mind, with an in-practice example of physical freedom [from slavery], but the mental chains that will not let go. It was absolutely spectacular in concept and my only complaint there is that it was only at the start, and the related medical were left behind as the novel progressed. Related, Greenidge shows the heaviness and tiredness of those who live everyday with racism large and small, exemplifying it in ways that are so deeply tangible. And she does so in great thematic juxtaposition with the choices to find a way to survive in the world the way it is, the want (the rage, in Libertie's case) to ask more from the world you were given, and the push and pull of those personal priorities in each person and intergenerationally. Speaking of generations, the opposition of dreams between Libertie and her mother, the way their different hopes for the future cause such a rift; the power of hope for the future that is children, and the connection we re-find with our own mothers when we bear our own children, is a set of themes deeply and strongly investigated. Literarily, the back and forth in the letters between Libertie and her mother demonstrate that distance between them, each concentrating on their own internal wants and hopes, but not pausing to listen or understand the other’s, was a well-used device.
Finally, Greenidge interrogates the intersection of social (and religious) race and gender regulations and expectations (highlighting, of course, the way they don’t make any logical sense) with phenomenal depth through Libertie's options, interactions and internal dialogue. The intensity of shame and judgement around “virtue” I know is realistic to the time, and often still now despite wishes that we've come farther since then, but it’s so hard to read. And it was so frustrating to see how society’s expectations caused a mother to doubt/mistrust her daughters' word so easily and quickly, without a pause to consider or listen to her own testimony. In a move to subvert these expectations, I loved the low-key inclusion of queer relationships in some of Libertie's music college friends.
And now, the reason I have mixed feelings and am struggling to fully convey how I felt about this book... I just could not get into it. I felt distant and struggled to keep my attention on it from the very start. And while objectively, as I read, I knew how well done the character development was, and how eye-opening the historical setting was for me, I just couldn't connect. There was something about the storytelling style that never quite hit right for me; it felt, perhaps, disjointed in some way, uneven. So, despite my objective interest and knowledge of its quality, I think I would have struggled to finish it without the audiobook to push me through. And it's just going to end up one of my least favorites of the longlist this year.
I want to close out back on book-theme. This novel gives the reader a profound look at many forms of being trapped: parental expectations and filial piety, religious and cultural, the limits of the past on both the present and our creativity in imagining the future, the role(s) of being a woman in society, the arbitrary and fear/power-based structures of race and colorism, parenthood, and likely more. Greenidge shows us, through Libertie's coming-of-age, the way that we must each find our own path to and definition of freedom for ourselves, and that no matter how much we may wish to, we cannot do it for anyone else. It's a lovely story that, if it sounds like a fit for you, I'd really encourage you to try for yourself. I think my disinterest in this novel comes down to a reader-book mismatch, and not at a reflection of the caliber of the book itself.
“We cannot live in freedom if we are not well.”
“I do not have a way with words, like you do. […] The only good poem I’ve ever written is you. A daughter is a poem. A daughter is a kind of psalm. You, in the world, responding to me, is the song I made. I cannot make another.”
“And how good was a rule, how strong, how sensible was it to obey, if it lost all meaning as soon as you left your front door?”
“It is a difficult thing, to be told something is beautiful by someone who already loves it best.”
“Perhaps there is bravery in being a wife. Certainly, there is bravery in being a mother.”
“Being a mother means being someone’s god, if only briefly. This is known, I think. But they are my gods, too. They are my country now.”