A review by kandicez
Roots: The Saga of an American Family by Alex Haley
5.0
The Roots mini-series aired when I was a child. We didn’t have a television, so we would walk to a nearby neighbor’s house, with many other neighbors, to watch. I remember the living room being incredibly crowded with adults on furniture and children on the floor. The lights were off and the blue shadows from the television flickered on our faces. It was an EVENT. It was such an incredibly important series and I am so glad I was able to see it in such a momentous way. It showed us things of which we had been blissfully ignorant. It’s one thing to understand that people were slaves, made to work with no pay, but quite another to know, and actually SEE, they were stolen from their families, treated like animals, beaten, whipped, raped, maimed and treated in ways that are simply inhuman. And yet, weren’t these supposed to be humans doing it? It was eye-opening and scary.
The mini-series introduced me to LeVar Burton. Burton has been an important presence in my life since that first episode. First as Kunta Kinte, and later as Geordi LaForge on Star Trek the Next Generation and then Reading Rainbow. Even now, I love him through his podcast of audiobooks and stories. His voice is dear to me, and I see him as I read. Even more so than I see James Evans. Burton’s Kunta was young. This happened to a young man. It hurt my heart. As an adult I have heard of the controversy surrounding Haley’s circular research leading to inaccuracies regarding Kinte’s existence. It makes no never mind to me. Kunta Kinte existed. It matters not if that was actually his name, if he was stolen in that particular year, if he eventually became Toby, father of Kizzy, grandfather to Chicken George and all the generations that followed. None of that matters. The people who insist these inaccuracies negate the importance of the book, are simply clouding the waters of history. These things happened. Maybe not every single thing to that exact man, but certainly to many. Not only men, but women, children, old people. These things happened. THAT’S what’s important. We must never be allowed to forget or deny our past.
I later read this for the first time when I was about 11. Of course, some of what I read went over my head, but I was again, even more forcefully, moved and shamed. Nothing made sense. How could this have happened? Been allowed to happen? I have since read this book at least ten times. This time I listened to it as read by Avery Brooks. It is no less moving. No less shameful. No less heartbreaking. Brooks did a lovely job of reading with the gravity the novel deserves. Of using the colloquialisms, the speech mannerisms, the vernacular, without sounding comedic or dismissive. I’m glad I purchased this, and despite the almost 40 hour listening time, I will probably listen again.
The mini-series introduced me to LeVar Burton. Burton has been an important presence in my life since that first episode. First as Kunta Kinte, and later as Geordi LaForge on Star Trek the Next Generation and then Reading Rainbow. Even now, I love him through his podcast of audiobooks and stories. His voice is dear to me, and I see him as I read. Even more so than I see James Evans. Burton’s Kunta was young. This happened to a young man. It hurt my heart. As an adult I have heard of the controversy surrounding Haley’s circular research leading to inaccuracies regarding Kinte’s existence. It makes no never mind to me. Kunta Kinte existed. It matters not if that was actually his name, if he was stolen in that particular year, if he eventually became Toby, father of Kizzy, grandfather to Chicken George and all the generations that followed. None of that matters. The people who insist these inaccuracies negate the importance of the book, are simply clouding the waters of history. These things happened. Maybe not every single thing to that exact man, but certainly to many. Not only men, but women, children, old people. These things happened. THAT’S what’s important. We must never be allowed to forget or deny our past.
I later read this for the first time when I was about 11. Of course, some of what I read went over my head, but I was again, even more forcefully, moved and shamed. Nothing made sense. How could this have happened? Been allowed to happen? I have since read this book at least ten times. This time I listened to it as read by Avery Brooks. It is no less moving. No less shameful. No less heartbreaking. Brooks did a lovely job of reading with the gravity the novel deserves. Of using the colloquialisms, the speech mannerisms, the vernacular, without sounding comedic or dismissive. I’m glad I purchased this, and despite the almost 40 hour listening time, I will probably listen again.