Part memoir by the daughter of the iconic comedian Richard Pryor, part exploration of the historical and contemporary use of the N-word, this hybrid book peels back the curtain on the life of Pryor and interrogates the most perplexing word in the American lexicon, a word he helped popularize.
The N-word is one of the most perplexing, controversial and misunderstood words in the American lexicon. It’s a word that Elizabeth Pryor has not only contemplated, it’s one that she has taught and observed up close.
When a white student quoted her father and blurted out the N-word in the middle of a class she was teaching, Professor Pryor’s worlds collided. In that moment, she was forced to confront the history of the notorious slur in the United States, and her complicated relationship with her father Richard Pryor, who made the word a trademark of his comedy in the 1970s.
As she dives into her research, her own memories of the N-word come flooding back in unprocessed memories that she hadn’t thought about for decades. In reckoning with those memories, Elizabeth goes on a more public journey of discovery of the messy and sometimes surprising legacies of racism in the United States.
A braided narrative that seamlessly integrates the history of the N-word with Elizabeth’s own story of growing up the Black Jewish daughter of Richard Pryor, Something We Said follows Elizabeth as she becomes a leading scholar and teacher of the very word her father put on the pop culture map.
Fear not, dear reader! My review of Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor's Something We Said is here! I am sure you have been waiting with bated breath for the opinion of a very pasty reviewer like myself about the legacy of the n-word. I've been waiting to be cancelled. Maybe we have finally arrived.
No, I won't be cancelled (for this anyway). I don't need to say anything profound because Pryor does all the excellent legwork of telling an engaging, thoughtful story. Crucially, though, she never preaches.
There are three storylines. First, Pryor tells the story of being the daughter of comedy legend Richard Pryor. What does this have to do with the n-word? Well, if you are asking that question then you have never listened to early Richard Pryor and—I cannot stress this enough—YOU NEED TO DO THAT. Pryor is the daughter of a White (note: Using APA guidelines) Jewish woman making Pryor someone who might feel out of place in a lot of situations. This is the crux of this part of the narrative and you will feel all the emotions because their relationship is anything but ordinary.
The second storyline is Pryor (the author) as an adult. She is now a college professor and an incident leads her to face the legacy of the n-word. This includes the fact that her own father was famous for using it in his early comedy. How can she navigate others through this charged word when she's not even sure how to handle it herself? After all, her father was not shy about using it with impunity for a time.
The third storyline is short "interludes" to discuss historical people and events where the n-word is prominent. Of course, as a history nerd, I loved these sections. However, I know for other people they found it distracting. Either way, every one of these is a short page or two. They don't take up significant page count.
All of these threads come together to present a full accounting of Elizabeth Pryor and her journey with the n-word. No, she doesn't say who should be allowed to say it. She doesn't say who shouldn't. She doesn't explain if you can sing it in the car because it's in the song you are listening to and no one else is around.
Instead, you get a much more powerful story about how a half-Black, half-White, Jewish girl felt as she grew up and heard the word used by people of all persuasions for very different reasons. You also get the story of a fully realized woman who asks others to present their own experiences with the word. Throughout, she doesn't skip the more thorny questions like whether or not the word should live on in Huck Finn. But instead of acting like a gatekeeper, she asks each person to consider not what we personally think about the word, but rather how the word affects those around us.
(This book was provided as a review copy by 37 Ink.)
This book is part memoir and part history lesson on the N-word, and it delivered exactly what it promised. I’m a huge fan of both memoirs and history, so I requested the ARC from NetGalley, and here’s my honest review.
The memoir portions were excellent and incredibly engaging. I was especially invested in the sections about her parents, school life, relationships, and her experiences growing up as a mixed-race child of a major celebrity during such a crazy time in America.
What didn’t work as well for me was the historical discussion surrounding the N-word. At times, it felt like those sections were written more for white readers than for Black readers. As an African American male, I found parts of it uncomfortable and, honestly, a little cringeworthy. I didn’t feel like I learned anything new, and there were moments where it seemed like she was trying too hard to define or perform Blackness instead of simply embracing her own identity naturally. The parts where she appeared to be learning how to “be Black” through white perspectives and black television really turned me off.
I honestly wish the entire book had focused more on her experience growing up as Richard Pryor’s daughter, because those sections were by far the strongest and most compelling parts of the book for me.
This book took me two months to read, however, I loved the ending. It releases on June 2nd, 2026. Overall, I’m giving this one 3.75 stars.
ARC REVIEW ~ I had no idea what I was in for when I picked up this book. It’s truly a diamond in the rough because it sat on my TBR amongst many other memoirs waiting to be read. I assumed it would be your typical child-of-a-celebrity memoir, but boy, was I wrong. This gem is far more than the average life story.
I see this book in three parts.
1. MEMOIR: In these chapters, we learn about the life of Elizabeth and her relationship with her father, the late, great Richard Pryor. For me, it was the most emotional part of the book.
From the age of six, when Elizabeth learned Richard Pryor was her father, to the time of his passing, they shared a special bond. I was surprised to learn that Richard Pryor was actually a family man. He may have gone through many romantic relationships, but through it all, he kept his children and family by his side. In this book, we get to see Richard Pryor as an ordinary father who just so happened to have an extraordinary career.
But the relationship between Elizabeth and her father wasn’t without its ups and downs. Being the daughter of Richard Pryor meant growing up surrounded by a “notorious” word… the “N-word.” As a biracial child, she spent her entire life trying to understand what that word personally meant to her.
My heart broke when I read the tragic end of their story. After being with her father throughout her life, it was so sad to learn how she was forced to stay away from him in the end. This part of the book totally gave me Wendy Williams guardianship vibes. It broke my heart. It was even sadder than reading about how Richard Pryor intentionally set himself on fire.
There is so much honesty in these chapters. The relationship between Elizabeth and her mother also added another layer to the story, making it even more compelling. I don’t want to say too much and give the book away, but what I will say is this: there’s a moment in the book when her mother pissed me off to the max!
2. PERSONAL DEVELOPMENT: These chapters read like a voyage into Elizabeth’s professional career as a college professor. Reading how she learned to navigate conversations and teach lessons surrounding the “N-word” was intriguing. You would think being the daughter of the man who single-handedly put the “N-word” in the forefront of American comedy would have made it easier for her to discuss. But nope, that was not the case.
The first time Elizabeth heard a white student in her classroom unexpectedly blurt out the “N-word” during a lesson, Elizabeth froze. She didn’t know how to respond, so she did nothing. However, as the book progresses, we see her go from that moment of silence and uncertainty to writing articles in professional journals and giving TED Talks about a word that carries generations of pain. A word she was surrounded by and also tried to avoid while growing up.
3. INTERLUDES: This is the third part of this beautiful tapestry. These chapters are filled with historical information and facts about the “N-word.” But what I completely appreciated about the interludes was that they were given in such small, digestible doses that the information never became overwhelming. And because they are placed throughout the book, the information never got too heavy.
Elizabeth goes all the way back and traces the origins of the “N-word.” She walks us through its evolution over generations, explaining how the word eventually became embedded in hip-hop and everyday language. She tells stories about people from Abraham Lincoln to Oprah and Jay-Z.
The flow and structure of this book is brilliant and made for an engaging read.
I enjoyed reading about the softer side of Richard Pryor. Before this, I’d only known Richard Pryor as the legendary comedian who fearlessly used controversial language on stage. But in this book, we get something much more intimate. We get to see his vulnerable side. And most importantly, we get to see him evolve.
Elizabeth shows us how Richard Pryor went from publicly embracing the “N-word” in mainstream America to eventually denouncing the word after a life-changing trip to Africa shifted his perspective. That transformation added so much emotional depth to the story because it showed how he grew.
This portion of Richard Pryor’s story kinda reminds me of The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Just as Malcolm X returned to the United States in 1964 after his pilgrimage to Mecca with a broader view of race and humanity, Africa had the same effect on Richard Pryor when it came to how he viewed Black Americans. This transformation was extremely important when examining the overall trajectory of Pryor’s life.
The ending of the book was very emotional for me. I was deeply bothered by how Richard Pryor was cared for later in life. It honestly made me think about Wendy Williams’ guardianship and the heartbreaking conversations surrounding family, protection, and access to loved ones. It’s a scary and unnerving thought, knowing someone can legally be removed from the people who love them most when they are at their most vulnerable time in life.
I went into this book not quite sure what it had in store. By the third chapter, I was completely engrossed in the story, and I knew I was going to thoroughly enjoy the book. As I neared the end of the book, I was one hundred percent sure this is a profoundly written narrative that should be on every bookshelf across the country.
Something We Said is not just a book about the “N-word.” This is a story about identity, family, love, history, healing, and the emotional complexity of growing up between worlds, words, and cultural differences.
I believe this book should be read by everyone! This memoir is sure to stay in my heart and mind for a very long time.
Thank you, Simon & Schuster, 37 Ink, and Yahdon Israel for gifting me with an ARC. This was an amazing journey!
I just realized that I didn't take one note from this book, even though I found it very moving. Richard Pryor is a fascinating and divisive figure and I consider it a privilege to learn about him from his own daughter, the author, Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor. It's a book in turns both sweet and nostalgic, and eye-opening. For memoir or Richard Pryor fans, you could hardly go wrong here.
this book took me on a journey that no other book has, the profound elements of a multifaceted person who was dealing with a lot of complex stipulations while still managing to be there for his children. almost cried multiple times throughout
really tender and such a wonderful, intimate portrait of their relationship. cried on the train reading it!!! i love history that is so deeply personal like this…i think on some level all history is, but every aspect of this book pushed it to an even more intense, more emotional place. biggest regret of my life not taking a liz pryor class at smith like what the hell. READ THIS
An intense, thought-provoking book by one of Richard Pryor's daughters. I still remember hearing the n-word on the playground when I was 5 or 6 years old. Don't remember if I knew what it meant & didn't know who said it to who, but knew it was ugly. Everyone should read this book with an open mind.
(Toward the end of the book, she found out about her father's passing from her husband & wrote, "What kind of person tells you you're father died while you're driving a car?" My first thought was, why are you answering your phone while you're driving?)
i’ve been looking forward to reading this since liz mentioned it over a year ago in one of her classes at smith! such a beautifully written blend of history, thoughtful reflections on language, and personal stories
Many thanks to Simon & Schuster and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor’s heartfelt and thoughtful book Something We Said: Richard Pryor, a Notorious Word, and Me. While the book is categorized as a memoir, it’s much more, as Pryor, a professor of US history and race at Smith College, shares her reflections growing up as a multiracial daughter of Richard Pryor and Maxine Silverman in the 1970s and 1980s, navigating her Black and Jewish identities as she forged a deeply loving, but complex relationship with her famous father. Blended between these childhood and adolescent memories are more recent recollections of Professor Pryor’s teaching and research and how she grapples with the notorious n-word, which her father made a staple of his comedy routines during the 1970s, reclaiming a complicated and racist term, and according to her research, shifting the term into another direction, creating a bifurcated meaning and usage. It’s a fascinating look at not only growing up multiracial at a time when racial identities seemed to be either/or, but also examining how Professor Pryor’s racial identity evolved as society and racism shifted and evolved in the 70s and 80s, helped along by her father’s fearless and groundbreaking comedy addressed race head on. First, I’ve always loved Richard Pryor. Although my introduction to him was in some of his more forgettable 80s films (I wasn’t allowed to see his concert films until I was older), I didn’t appreciate his comedic genius until more recently, especially after reading Becoming Richard Pryor by Scott Saul. This book is more of a critical biography of Pryor’s evolution from his attempts to be the next Bill Cosby to a revolutionary comedian who embraced Black power and challenged racism and inequality through his routines and movies. While the book is excellent, it also details Pryor’s messy personal life, which in the 70s and early 80s included many relationships with women, addiction, and run-ins with police. Although Pryor became tabloid fodder, he also became the highest paid Black actor at the time, and signed studio deals that were unheard of for Black actors and writers, opening the doors for more Black creatives in Hollywood. While Professor Pryor’s book examines a similar time period, it paints a much different picture of Richard Pryor as a loving, doting father, who despite growing up in Illinois with an abusive, brutal father and a stern grandmother who served as his mother, tried his best to be an attentive and engaged father to his many children. I was nervous reading about her initial visits to Pryor, meeting him and staying at his house when she was young, and one story about bringing home the class pet was a little wild, Stordeur Pryor’s experiences show that Richard Pryor was a caring father who made many efforts to take care of Elizabeth, or Dizzy as she was called, and his other children. As their relationship develops and she spends more time with him, I was moved by how Richard involved his daughter (and other children) in his life. There are some great stories about Elizabeth playing around the house with Rain, her sister from another mother, or going to Georgia to be with Richard while he filmed Greased Lightning. Although Professor Pryor presents a touching and heartfelt view of her father, showing how he cared for his children, she also remains observant about the racial and class differences that she experienced moving between her white Jewish mother in Boston (and later LA) and her father’s extended family and friends who also were in the house. Professor Pryor also notes that at school, her complexion and hair were different from her peers, leading to questions and occasional name calling about her racial identity. One word, whose use in her father’s home among his friends and family and on the playground directed at Professor Pryor, seemed to raise many questions for her. Professor Pryor recounts how her father (and her great-grandmother, Mama) taught her lessons about being Black in America and to be proud of her racial identity. Nevertheless, Pryor recounts the confusion in understanding the difference between the n-words usage among her father’s friends and family and when it was directed at her on the playground or in one unfortunate recollection, from her mother. While the n-word continues to remain a complicated word with a fraught history, it wasn’t until Professor Pryor was teaching and a white student deployed the n-word in class quoting a line from Blazing Saddles that her father wrote that rekindled the complicated feelings and questions about the word. As a teacher, I loved reading these challenging classroom moments when we may have to challenge students’ misconceptions, biases, or attitudes, and show solidarity and support for students’ whose voices may be misrepresented or misunderstood. Professor Pryor not only shares this incident, but also the challenges she grapples with in trying to call attention to the word, support the Black students in her class, and establish rules and procedures for the word’s usage in class. The incident seemed to not only serve as the catalyst for Professor Pryor’s research into the history of the n-word but also reconnects her to her relationship with her father (who had passed away at this point) and listen to some of his groundbreaking comedy from the 1970s that directly confronted racism with humor and satire. Furthermore, Professor Pryor includes these interludes that trace the impact of the n-word in US history, society and popular culture. These range from examples of Frederick Douglass and Booker T. Washington to the Harlem Renaissance, Gone With the Wind, and NWA. It’s fascinating to see how this word’s use evolved and split, largely because of Richard Pryor’s comedy. Interestingly though, Professor Pryor notes that her father eventually disavowed the word in the 1980s, refusing to use the n-word in his comedy anymore. As Professor Pryor notes, it was Richard Pryor’s visit to Kenya that brought about this epiphany realizing that the word was no longer necessary to define Black people. Her recollections and memories of her father also show the evolution of a Black man and his complexities and interests that were often hidden or shoved aside for more of the tabloid fodder that the public craved from Richard Pryor’s life. I loved learning how interested Richard Pryor was in African and African American history and culture, and how his racial pride as a Black man never wavered but gradually evolved to a different kind of appreciation and insight about his identity. Professor Pryor similarly experiences her own kind of evolution of her own racial identity, as the later chapters chart her journey through college, questioning her belonging to different friend groups and navigating relationships. While the later chapters move quickly through the 80s and 90s, it’s still fascinating to read her experiences about developing her racial identity in her late adolescence and early adulthood. While this book is not necessarily an academic treatise on the n-word and racial identity, it is written by an academic, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether Professor Pryor had encountered researchers like Drs. Kenneth and Mamie Clark, whose research was used in Brown vs. The Board of Education, or Beverly Tatum, whose book Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? addresses similar issues of society and racial identity development among Black children and adolescents. Nevertheless, Professor Pryor also recounts the challenges of young adults leaving college and searching for their professional identities, and it was exciting to read about her challenges and how she eventually ended up as an academic studying African American History. While I wasn’t sure what to expect with this book, it’s more than just a straightforward memoir. Professor Pryor fearlessly recounts her search for love and acceptance from her famous father but also details her own questions and quests to define her racial identity, recognizing that it’s not always an either/or, but it can be an and/also. I also didn’t expect to be so emotionally moved by this book, especially the sections that present a more tender and loving side of Richard Pryor that rarely is discussed. It’s a beautiful book about parenting as well, showing how important that kind of interest and attention can be, especially as Elizabeth sought to learn more about and connect with her famous father. However, what makes this book stand out as a unique memoir is Professor Pryor’s research and insight into the history of America’s most notorious word, which her father helped to reshape and popularize, breaking the word off from its racist connotations and injecting it into mainstream Black and popular culture. Her experiences in the classroom only further add to the complexities of this word and highlight her own complicated relationship with her father. Something We Said is the best “memoir” I’ve read this year, and it is one of the best books I’ve read so far this year. I was unable to put this down not just because it’s about Richard Pryor, but because it’s about a Black and Jewish daughter’s experience connecting with her father and navigating her racial identity in an America that is still wrestling with the color line. Highly recommended!
One terrible night many years ago I couldn't sleep. I was too upset. So I opened my laptop and clicked on "Richard Pryor: Live at Sunset Strip." Richard Pryor saved me that night. In my major funk, wanting nothing more than to give up on everything, this man dug out the rot of his own existence, of self-hate, societal ignorance, of his need to escape. He made fun of it. He made fun of himself. He imitated a cheetah. He made fun of his own suicide. I laughed over and over and over and over again. I shook the bed, waking up a very angry partner, to which I could only laugh. I have such a deep gratitude for Richard Pryor lifting me out of a pit that night. As a result, I was very curious about his daughter's book. How complicated it must be to be a comic genius's daughter. I'm so happy Ms. Stordeur Pryor wrote this. I didn't know the origin of the n word (Latin). The weight of the word and how much her father and also Ms. Stordeur Pryor carried in relation to it is so significant. I liked the mix of history and narrative. How we legislate hate and perpetuate hate through actions and words is no small topic. She dug in so successfully. I wish it were longer! In any case, in a smaller way, though not lesser, it seemed Ms. Stordeur Pryor also found a little liberation through this process. Though the process continues for all of us, I'm grateful for her work. And eternally grateful for her courageous dad.
I received an advanced reader’s copy of this memoir and historical exploration from Yahdon Israel’s Advanced Readers’ Club.
Living at the intersection of being Black and Jewish, Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor always heard her father use the n-word. Her father, Richard Pryor, was the world-famous comedian who used the racial slur profusely in his political comedy.
The story begins with Elizabeth moving with her Jewish mother from Boston to Los Angeles to live closer to her father, who was conquering Hollywood. She finds herself coming of age in the shadow of Tinseltown as her father deals with his demons publicly and privately.
The n-word eventually separates her family when her mother weaponizes it against her. The traumatic memory follows Elizabeth throughout her story, as she tries to understand why her father uses the word on the public stage and how much it hurts her when it’s used against her. A young Elizabeth struggles with her racial identity in a predominantly White community with her brown skin and curly hair. Being known as Richard Pryor’s daughter adds insult to injury, as her father’s fame culminates with his drug addiction and mental health crises.
Once she becomes a professor at Smith College, she realizes the need to teach the word’s etymology as her students of all racial backgrounds flinch upon hearing it in full when a White student quotes her father’s film, Blazing Saddles. She hadn’t shared that she was the comedian’s daughter, but she notices the discomfort sweep across the classroom. As a biracial professor who identifies as Black, she knows she has failed her students by not speaking out. The moment spurs her to study the n-word in academia.
The topic becomes a driving force at work and outside of work. How the n-word bleeds into her life as Richard Pryor’s daughter forces her to examine her abnormal childhood and accept her father as a man who used the word to remove the power and to deal with his own demons.
If you’re looking for a hybrid memoir, then this book delivers an interesting punch at the intersection of entertainment, adolescence, and language.
Richard Pryor’s work means everything to me. I’ve lectured on his comedy, written essays about his influence, even published a poem in my collection All the Stars Aflame (Get Fresh Books, 2022) about sneaking to listen to his records as a boy. I’ve heard every album, read every memoir, biography, & essay collection, watched every film, documentary, & interview. So, I was eager to read the latest book about his life, work, family, & relationship to our nation’s most troublesome word.
Something We Said: Richard Pryor, a Notorious Word, and Me (37 INK, 2026) is by Dr. Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor @pryorhistories, a history professor at Smith College, & the late comedian’s daughter. The book is part memoir, part biography, part lexical history. The result is a seamless blend of all three. She moves naturally between memory, family history, & the life of that “notorious” word. Richard Pryor used it to make a statement, to say something about its power & its wretchedness. It was all over his stand-up, even appearing in the titles of two of his albums: That Nigger’s Crazy (1974) & Bicentennial Nigger (1976). But after a trip to Africa, he vowed never to use it again. For her part, Dr. Pryor avoids the word altogether, even in titles or quotations, opting instead for the euphemistic “N-word.”
Throughout the work, the author writes about her father with the same vulnerability he showed pacing back and forth across the stage. The book is especially moving when she writes about longing to be closer to him as a child. Even more moving is the conclusion, where she recounts his physical decline and eventual death. I damn near cried when she described his struggle with multiple sclerosis & how she and her siblings were kept from spending more time with him near the end.
At its heart, the book examines two relationships: one with her father, the other with the N-word. Neither proves easy, yet she approaches both with honesty & openness. With this book, Dr. Pryor tells her own story while honoring her father & wrestling with a word that continues to trouble us.
I closed this book wanting to go back and watch Richard Pryor all over again but this time through the eyes of his daughter.
Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor writes with such tenderness and intellectual rigor about what it meant to grow up biracial, Black American and Jewish, the child of a man who reshaped comedy and put the n-word into mainstream American conversation. This book isn’t a sensational retelling. It’s intimate. It’s a daughter trying to understand her father’s brilliance and his burden. It’s a woman tracing how a word traveled through her childhood, her home, her classrooms at Smith College, and her own sense of self.
As someone who thinks a lot about language and healing, I was struck by her honesty. She doesn’t pretend the word didn’t impact her relationships with her mother, her students, her community. She doesn’t resolve the tension neatly either. She sits with it. She loves her father openly and she also interrogates the legacy he left behind. That complexity feels real to me and I found myself emotionally invested.
This is a courageous contribution to a conversation that can feel explosive in the Black community. By grounding it in family, memory, and scholarship, she gives us something steadier to hold onto. A daughter’s love. A scholar’s clarity. And an invitation to examine the words that have shaped us.
I feel like Pryor set out to write a memoir about life with her father, and then couldn’t help but write about his usage of the n-word, because Richard Pryor did revolutionize the usage of the word and forced people of all races to think about its usage in a different way. It seems like the author then tried to combine the two subjects, adding a broad history of the term as well. Most of the time, it works. Her relationship with a white mother (who I saw as a compassionate figure until one specific event) desperately trying to get a father to spend time with his child, and a Black father, who, on top of being famous, was also saddled with a hefty substance abuse problem, are compelling and heartbreaking to read about. Pryor’s attempts to reconcile her feelings about the word, and her frank retellings of how the word impacted her feelings about her parents, her friends, her romantic relationships, her career, and her interactions with students are fascinating as well. But sometimes these subjects just don’t gel together as well as I think Pryor hoped. In addition, the author sometimes jumps tangents from sentence to sentence, creating a jarring read. In all though, this is a captivating book about family, loss, absence, racism, courage, and the power of language. 4.5 stars.
Huge thank you to NetGalley for a copy of this ARC in exchane for my honest review.
I would like to thank NetGalley for giving me the opportunity to read this advance copy.
I cannot state enough how much I am a word nerd. I love etymology and learning where words come from and how they evolve. I also am a huge fan of deep, vulnerable memoirs. This book is the perfect marriage of both.
I will say that as a white woman, I am always reading, watching, and listening to everything I can to learn more about other people's experiences in this world. I do want to point out that I am white because the n-word is such a hot button with its own universe of meanings, red flags, offenses, historical weight. I love how this word and this author's legacy of her father take such an emotional journey. I have never used the n-word and I cringe when I hear it; especially when I know the intention behind it is not quoting a movie, rap song, or stand-up comedian. I even feel uncomfortable when I do hear it in those settings, even when I am expecting it (like in a Richard Pryor stand-up).
However, the way Ms. Stordeur Pryor travels through history and up to the present time covering both her own experiences as well as the uses of this word is actually very poetic and also extremely well articulated. I loved this book so much and feel very privileged (in more ways than one) that I was able to read it.
The author is the daughter of the late comedian, Richard Pryor. In this book, she blends the genres of memoir and history. She gives insight into her relationship with her father while also examining the use of the n-word. Since her father used the word throughout his early career, she examines his use of the word and how it fits into the historical record of the word. As well as her feelings about the word and growing up as Richard Pryor’s daughter.
I enjoy reading memoirs. This one was an eye opening read of the author’s life. She provides details and descriptions of places.
Though the memoir passages of the book were engaging, the historical presentation of the n-word was not as engaging. She provides well known examples of how artists have used the word to take ownership and flip it from its hurtful meaning. However, the same attention is not given to artists who push against using the word. For instance, Maya Angelou is not mentioned in the book and she advocated for not using the word.
Readers who enjoy memoirs will enjoy the memoir portions of the book. Historical readers probably will not enjoy this one as much if they are looking for a deep dive into the history of the n-word.
I was sent an advanced copy of this book by the publisher, 37 Ink via Netgalley.
My unpublished letter to the editor of the New York Times:
I was puzzled and disappointed to read Lauretta Charlton’s lukewarm appraisal of Something We Said, Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor’s linguistic memoir. Charlton is, of course, free to argue with how Pryor understands the n-word—as well as how the author may have capitalized on her father’s infamous use of the slur, which Charlton seems to disapprove of—but I’m unsure that she and I read the same book. Pryor does indeed report that her (white) mother called her the n-word during an argument in her childhood. But rather than breezing past this event, as Charlton claims, Pryor investigates its impact at length; it not only changes Pryor’s relationship with both her parents but also profoundly influences how she conceives of her own mixed-race identity. Pryor is furthermore at pains to emphasize the n-word’s complexity, particularly to her students, whose difficult but revealing interactions with the word she describes throughout the text. This is a book about how the n-word has evolved, written by someone with a front row seat to a key cultural moment in that evolution. It’s a shame that Charlton either missed this or allowed her own views to lead her to mischaracterize Pryor’s (excellent and instructive, in my view) work.
Thanks to NetGalley, Simon & Schuster, and 37 Ink for the digital copy of this book; I am leaving this review voluntarily.
I was very curious about Something We Said because I am one of the people who was late to the party in terms of discovering his comedic GENIUS. He was a trailblazer whose use of foul words pushed the boundaries further, especially when using the N-word. Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor, the oldest child of the late, great comedian and actor, has turned her life with her father and his words into a field of study.
Part memoir and part academic and sociological study, Something We Said works in part because of Pryor’s experiences. The sections with the most impact for me are her recollections from her life. The deconstruction of systemic issues like racism are important to hear, but at times, Pryor’s writing is kind of dry. I’m not saying what she relates is not important or isn’t interesting, I’m just saying that the more personal parts of this book are a contrast to the academic study of the use of the N-word.
Pryor is an educator, someone like me who believes in life-long learning. She blends her study of the N-word blends historical research with her own personal experiences. That nuance was also compelling to me. Even though I found parts of this book uneven, I still recommend it as a memoir and a cultural study,
Something We Said by Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor was one of the most eye-opening books I have read in a long time. It challenged me to think about history, language, and lived experiences in ways I never had before.
One of the things I appreciated most was how much I learned. Before reading this book, I wasn't familiar with Richard Pryor or much of his work. Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor provided important historical and cultural context that helped me understand experiences and perspectives I had never fully considered.
For example, I learned that Buckwheat's "Ootay" in The Little Rascals was part of a long history of mocking the way Black people speak. Growing up, I always thought Buckwheat simply had a speech impediment. Moments like that appeared throughout the book and caused me to reflect on things I had seen or heard my entire life without understanding their deeper meaning.
This book educated me, challenged me, and expanded my perspective. I am genuinely grateful for the opportunity to read it and for the conversations and self-reflection it inspired. If you are looking for a book that will teach you something new while also encouraging you to examine the world through a different lens, I highly recommend Something We Said.
This was an enjoyable read that had me scratching my head as someone with two Black parents. I'm a bit uncomfortable giving "feedback" on a memoir; someone's personal feelings/emotions but it also gives them the chance to express their point of view and explain those feelings as they see fit. Having said that, Elizabeth Pryor, growing up Black and Jewish, battles the use of the n-word and learning it's place in her life while building a relationship with her Black father, comedian Richard Pryor and navigating the relationship with her primary parent and ally to the black community, a white Jewish mother. It's unfair to ask a child "who are you" at such a young age, but American racism does that to Black people from birth, from conception!
No spoilers, but there are times when I want to hug Elizabeth and times when I want to say "No ma'am!!" Times when I'm crying for her and times when I'm cheering for her. This is a book I could discuss with bookclubs or with friends. It stirs questions about race, family dynamics, and relationships that are not usually addressed, especially from a child's perspective. I enjoyed this ARC from NetGalley & I'm so thankful to have received it.
Something I really loved about this book is that Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor blends the personal, historical, and societal so well. Her perspective is both close to emotion and reflective at each turn. It seeks to teach and expand in her childhood stories and history interludes. Short chapters make this memoir a quick read, and I appreciate how we move across time in a way that allows us to understand the complexity of her familial relationships and her struggle to reckon with and claim her legacy.
I understand the difficulty in constantly having other people try to tell you who you are; Stordeur Pryor examines in the development of her Black identity, her relationship to her mother, and her growth as a scholar. I wouldn’t have guessed the levels of emotion, memory, pride and trauma that would come with her claiming her father, especially in the context of her teaching and studying the impact of the n-word on our society.
Something We Said makes a part of our cultural history tangible, tender, and vulnerable. I’m grateful for its reflection on biracial identity and its resonance for me as an educator.
Something We Said: Richard Pryor, a Notorious Word, and Me operates on multiple layers at once. The first is the "notorious word" itself, and the deeply personal relationship we build with it. Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor beautifully navigates between historical context and personal experience, balancing the weight of both and letting them speak to each other.
The second layer is the private image of a public giant. Any fan of stand-up comedy, or comedy more broadly, carries an image of Richard Pryor. This book doesn't challenge that image, it enriches it. A man I'd always viewed as a titan is made human through the words of his daughter. She treats him honestly and with care, never brushing over his shortcomings but never dramatizing them either. It's simply honest.
Lastly, the book operates as memoir: the memoir of a woman reckoning with her own talents and her personal relationship with a very public father.
If you love books that move across registers, weaving memoir, biography, cultural criticism, and history without ever becoming academic or stuffy, this is a top recommendation.
If presented a book titled "the history of the n-word", authored by an academic, some readers couldn't run away fast enough. Too much potential for a dry and preachy read that might not provide the needle-threading context required.
This book is essentially that topic, authored by an academic and it's fantastic....because...
It essentially is all context.
It sticks to the popular culture track embodied in her father's use of the word in his act and also in his daily life with friends and family.
Provides the tension surrounding it's use by race - mostly because the author was raised by her white Jewish mother and her relationship with her father did not begin until she was about six. She lived a primarily white life (school, friends) with significant periods in the black community with her father and his family.
The key points are then driven by a college classroom experience the author needed to face up to; much to her surprise. This completes what is really a story (as opposed to a 'treatment') that informs without a hint of preaching.
Is part memoir and part historical context of the word. The author gives her personal experience with the word and clearly the author does not feel comfortable with the word in any way shape or form. Now as I’m reading the book many questions came up, one is how was the author experience being raised by a Jewish mother and a black father shaped her experience how she sees the word? The author describes her experience as she went along. She also discusses what’s appropriate term to use for kids that grew up with biracial parents. Or is it different for anyone? Who’s “allow” to say the word ?
She gives historical context through out the book. I do wish she would of discussed more of the historical Side of it because e many things I did not know. But she sharing her personal experience made the book more personal. One part of it she says that the way her dad showed loved to his craft she wished he would give her the same attention. So I also thought how do kids with famous parents deal with fame?
This book is a good topic discussion that gives many different questions as you read along.
Recommend
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I really enjoyed this book. I am white and the n-word always seemed like a curse word to me. I grew up in a household in the 60s-70s where my blue collar Brooklyn born-raised father used it liberally while my bachelor prepared mother shamed him for doing so. It was confusing but when my dad said that word I knew it had power to harm because it caused a burning in my gut. It had the power to put an entire people in their place and reinforce white supremacy even if I couldn’t verbalize that at the time. Elizabeth Pryor has really done a superb job tracing the n-word’s origin from chattel slavery to Jim Crow and then connect that directly to how Richard Pryor used the stage as a tool for radical humanization. In the end even Richard found the word too wretched to control and swore it off completely as the word itself cannot fully be separated from its power to oppress. This was an excellent read and very warm and funny in parts.
2.5, only 5 on the black hand side... doesn't feel probing or intimate. Something about this hard R nigga, being portrayed as "n-word" or "bleep" feels cowardly or at least overly cautious. Yes, I did understand all the exposition surrounding the word's controversies ("motherfucker" is ok though); more than half the book seems a passive-aggressive explanation of the author's decision. The lack of depth carries over thru to the very end, with little detail about the hands directing the mysterious barking orders and estrangement...
Doing some digging away from the book, seems Richard had remarried a "pryor" wife by time of his death... Said wife got errthang, all other "pryors" mostly cut tf off... Richard seemed hard on the women he purportedly loved, including his daughters; however, in the end, one woman decided she was nobody's bleep, especially not Richard's, savage.
I absolutely loved every aspect of this book. I found the author’s perspective to be quite engaging as she described her identity and her upbringing with Richard Pryor as her father.
The story flows well as she recalls her life from childhood into womanhood and as she highlights important conversations in the classroom as a professor.
Her overall analysis of the “notorious” word and its history while also observing how it has been redefined in the media, most importantly by her father. Whether it was a personal moment or an in-depth evaluation I found each finding to be highly insightful and engaging.
The overall execution of this memoir is the perfect blend of a scholarly application and intimate stories.
This memoir was far beyond average. On one hand to was interesting to get some insight into such a beloved figure as Richard Pryor. It the heart of the novel is really a thoughtful discussion on the N-word through the laws of someone who has trained and gained expertise on thinking about history.
I would encourage anyone who enjoys memoirs to pick this book up, but also, those who love history. The author does an amazing job of not just trudging through the epistemology of the N-word, she really entwines pop culture, and of course, her father’s influence on that. The ending is tied up very thoughtfully, and there were places that made me teary. As I think anyone with aging parents would.