These two short novels by Nella Larsen explore issues of identity, freedom, and belonging in the Black American experience through the stories of young women in the 1920s who are trying to navigate the world in which they find themselves. Although the two stories are quite different, both feature female protagonists who are vivid and memorable. I found Passing to be the better of the two books, but I enjoyed and learned from both of them.
The heroine of Quicksand, Helga Crane, is a young biracial woman from Chicago who, when we meet her, is teaching at a school for Blacks in the South. After hearing a white preacher in the school’s chapel remind the students of “their duty to be satisfied in the estate to which they had been called, hewers of wood and drawers of water,” she’s had enough and decides to return to Chicago. (The school and its chapel service reminded me of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man.)
But Helga’s return to Chicago proves to be just the first of several moves that she makes over the next few years as she searches for her place in the world. She tries Harlem, but despite feeling “free” at first, she soon tires of “all the talk of the race problem” and begins to despise the dark people around her. She next travels to Copenhagen and lives with her white Danish relatives, where she is welcomed and feels an “augmented sense of self-importance.” But she also becomes aware of being seen as “exotic” and, to her surprise, finds herself being homesick for America and the “brown laughing faces” in Harlem.
Helga returns to Harlem and enjoys being with her own people. But she is still not fully at home. She realizes that her life is divided “into two parts in two lands, into physical freedom in Europe and spiritual freedom in America.” But does it always have to be one or the other? Can she ever find a life where she can be fully at home?
Helga does have one more move to make, one last pivot to a different life. Unfortunately, her decision didn’t ring true to me, and it lowered my overall opinion of Quicksand. But Larsen’s beautiful writing and her vivid portrayals of Helga and the people around her will still remain with me despite the book’s disappointing ending.
Passing is the story of Irene Redfield and her childhood friend Clare Kendry. Both are beautiful light-skinned mixed-race women, but they have taken different paths in their lives in terms of race. Irene has embraced her Black identity, married a Black doctor, and built a life with her family in Harlem. When she unexpectedly runs into Clare after a dozen years, she finds that Clare has chosen to hide her “colored” identity, “pass” for white, and marry a white man.
Clare’s husband, Jack, is an outspoken racist. When Irene first meets him, he shocks her by referring to Clare—humorously, to his way of thinking—by the nickname “Nig” (because he thinks her complexion is getting darker as time goes on, not because he suspects she is anything other than white). When Irene asks if he dislikes Negroes, he replies, “‘You got me wrong there, Mrs. Redfield. Nothing like that at all. I don’t dislike them. I hate them. … They give me the creeps. The black scrimy devils.’” Irene controls her anger, but she vows not to see Clare anymore. Irene values security, and she fears that Clare will upset the security that she has been enjoying with her husband Brian and their sons.
But Clare has other ideas. She admits to Irene that maybe Irene’s way of life is wiser and happier than hers. She begins to insinuate herself into Irene’s life. Irene worries that Clare may have designs on Brian, which Clare does not dispel when she admits, “‘Why, to get the things I want badly enough, I’d do anything, hurt anybody, throw anything away. Really, ‘Rene, I’m not safe.’” Irene dwells on the thought that Clare is trying to steal her husband, even though she has no tangible proof at all. She feels that she is suffering doubly, both “as a woman, an individual, on one’s own account, [but also] having to suffer for the race as well.”
As Clare spends more and more of her time in Harlem, it seems less and less likely that she will be able to continue to maintain her “passing” charade. Clare hardly seems to care, but for Irene, the suspense she feels as she worries that Clare will overturn the security of her world becomes unbearable.
As in Quicksand, Larsen’s writing in Passing is brilliant, and she again demonstrates her great skill at character development. As I said above, I think Passing is the better of the two books. The dynamic between Irene and Clare provides an ideal structure through which Larsen can explore the issues of racial identity and community that are her concerns in both books. I highly recommend either or both books, but since I’m reviewing them together, let me clarify that I would give Quicksand four stars and Passing five stars.