100 Books Like Silver Sparrow

I did not take to this book right away. Both main characters seemed rigid and selfish in ways that put me off initially. When I came back to the novel some years (decades?) later, I could better see and appreciate the complexity of building a life in racist America of the 1920s. The rigidity that had initially put me off seemed much more understandable as a defense mechanism in a society that was largely hostile to them as women of color.

Giving the book another go, I’ve come to admire the way Larsen uses her characters’ decisions (about whether to pass as white, have children, trust the men they’ve chosen to live with, etc.) to explore complicated ideas surrounding color and race. There are also some scathing indictments of whites, particularly white men that raise some pretty big questions about how race and gender work together, even in our own… show more.

I love Toni Morrison's works and consider her one of my favorite authors. I would argue, as others have, that Morrison is one of the greatest American writers ever. I appreciate that the characters in all of her books, including this one, are always dynamic. I also appreciate how Morrison shares the main characters' traumas, tragedies, and triumphs.

I was one of those women who was obsessed with Oprah’s Book Club. She started it in 1996, the same year I started my sophomore year of college. I can’t say that I read every book assigned to me in my classes, but I damn sure as hell read every book Oprah recommended.

White Oleander was picked in May 1999, just a few months before my wedding. I did zero wedding planning the week I read that book. I ignored my soon-to-be husband and called my sisters to demand that they read the book. The story, which follows Astrid (why did my parents name me such a terrible ugly name like Courtney when Astrid was right there?) as she navigates foster care following her mother’s conviction for murder, is compelling. However, I fell in love with the prose and the way Finch describes the people and places in the novel.… show more.

The vulnerability of both wives at the heart of this immersive novel squeezed my throat as I read. Both of them at the mercy of their fertility, I felt so much outrage for Satya, and I so wished I could jump into the pages and liberate Roop from the impossible situation she was plunged into.

It’s been over 20 years since I read this book, but I still think about it.

Brit Bennett writes with a steady hand as she immerses us into the minds and lives of three people. Nadia and Aubrey are haunted to womanhood by maternal abandonment. They are friends as well as rivals for the affection of the same man. Luke would have made a mother out of Nadia had they chosen to parent, and he eventually makes a wife and mother of Aubrey. His mother is the first lady of the church that plays a prominent role in their lives. The mothers in Bennett's exceptional novel are hurt and betrayed by callous men and by each other. I rooted for each of them to persevere, but like many of my favorite novels, this is not a happily ever after for everyone type of story.

Sparky, fast-talking and addictive, I adored this book when it came out in the early 1990s. I enjoyed the subsequent film, too.

But you don’t hear much about it any more, though I think it’s probably still a relevant portrait of Black women’s lives in America. It’s about four friends, women in their thirties, each chapter told from the viewpoint of one of the friends.

The voice is so fresh and in-your-face, so funny and engaging. I love how teasing and chiding of each other they are when they’re together, but also so supportive and loving. Below the lighter-than-air surface of their conversations, the reader comes to realise what they mean to each other.

This is the absolute, hands down best collection of interlinked stories framed as a novel I have ever read in my life. You will fall in love with each and every one of these colorful, dynamic, and heartwarming women who find themselves in one tenement building in 1970s Harlem. Mattie Michael, Etta Mae Johnson, Lucielia "Ciel" Turner, Melanie "Kiswana" Browne, Cora Lee, Lorraine, and Theresa all come from different backgrounds but intersect around one major theme: surviving urban America as Black women. By the end, you will roar in celebration and respect for their journeys to self-fulfillment, self-discovery, and self-empowerment despite incredible odds. 

I could not put this book down—and not just because it’s 90 pages long. The letter format instantly drew me into this candid conversation between two old friends grappling with the fallout of their upended marriages.

I love that Ramatoulaye shows no hint of judgment toward Aissatou about the different choices each woman made when faced with similar circumstances. I also appreciated Ramatoulaye’s frank reflections on her daughter’s opinion of her.

The Star Side of Bird Hill is about two sisters, one a preteen and the other on the verge of womanhood, sent from Brooklyn to Barbados to spend a summer with their grandmother. This temporary arrangement becomes permanent when their severely depressed mother kills herself. The children of Bird Hill are still friends in the making. Their grandmother is an unbending woman with strange ways, not the adored woman who raised them. Adapting to a new home takes time and reluctant willingness. I spent my earliest years with my grandparents on my mother’s side on the island of Anegada while my parents set up roots in NY before bringing me to a new home. This gave me an immediate connection to Naomi Jackson’s wonderful novel. Her skillful writing did the rest.

A girl is haunted by events that shaped her destiny early on. A father who vanished without a trace. A mother who took her own life along with those of her other children by leaping from the roof of a building. There is a witness and a survivor, and this beautiful novel is the latter's story, as well as an examination of race. She is her father's Black and her mother's White daughter. Her racial identity therefore is both and neither, dependent on how one sees her, or how she chooses to see herself on any given day. Exploration of racial as well as family dynamics are themes that I am strongly drawn to read as well as write about. Durrow blends the two masterfully.