The Sexy Part of The Bible by Kola Boof. This novel is exquisite. Read it. As I wrote on Pinterest:
This book? Sublime. Kola Boof? Genius. I could’ve read about racism, sexism, misogyny, capitalism, imperialism, patriarchy, White privilege, institutionalized racism, colonialism, slavery, cloning, homophobia, classism, colourism, and love/hate in separate books, but was re-enlightened on this in one. The triangulation between Africa, Europe and U.S., as well as the main character’s intersectionality makes the story complicated and riveting. On par with writing from Morrison/Walker/Butler.
She goes IN on colourism…even in a way that might make some Black Americans uncomfortable when it’s juxtaposed to Africa. Good. We need discomfort when we read. How else will we learn? I like feeling slightly riveted, slightly on edge when I read. As I tweeted before:
I love when I am reading a book so good, I have to like…put it down for a sec. And smirk. And re-examine my whole damn existence.
It makes me think about something Ray Bradbury wrote in Fahrenheit 451: ““We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?”
It’s interesting that sex is a part of the story (as it is life), but not in a way that insults my intelligence as some other "popular” books are. (Yes, that was 50 Shades of #SHADE just now.)
Also, reading this novel as a break from non-fiction on the topics that I mentioned in the mini review makes me think of something a Twitter follower sent me once:
@thetrudz I totally agree. When it’s fiction it feels less dogmatic, more like you’re awakening to possible truth than being fed a doctrine
There’s a section of the book called “The White Man Is Not The Devil” that I had to mark. It really is exquisite and speaks to the complex existence and intersectionality of Black women and how we perceive both Black and White men. Anyway, like I said above. Read this.
We turn on the television and only our suffering is recorded by the white man’s cameras—our poverty, our hunger, our disease. Not only exaggerated, but the cause of our downfall is never truthfully explained. And while the white man films himself saving us, medicating us, feeding and protecting us, the black man is portrayed as a loser who can’t even navigate his own land, can’t love or feed his family, and can’t standup as an African in the image, fully human, that God created him in. He’s just a backward nigger in a dying, stinking, rotten paradise that everybody wants.