(Coming and posting a review here is really a way I get my thoughts together about a book after finishing it - it's not that I feel like I'm so smart that people should listen to me. That is particularly true in writing about this book.)
This book was quite interesting even as I sometimes felt I was not smart enough to read it. The author is a professor at Yale, and I've found that there is a certain linguistic flavor in books by academics that make them hard for me to read, being 40-plus years out of academia. If you are really bothered or flummoxed by academic language you might want to give this book a pass.
At first I wasn't sure I was going to stick with it - the introduction was fairly concentratedly academic, being 40-plus pages of Brooks telling us what she was going to tell us. But I moved on because I felt like there was stuff here I should read.
The book is NOT about black women musicians, at least not directly. The first part is about black women who wrote about and studied the music of black women in the early to mid 20th century. I had never heard of Pauline Hopkins and was impressed with her story. The other chapters in this part discuss the engagement with and writing about music of Lorraine Hansberry, Zora Neale Hurston, Mary Lou Williams, and others who are known for things other than music criticism. A chapter about Rosetta Records was interesting for its flood of names of singers and records I wanted to hear, and for the surprising degree to which a white woman got things right about the music of black women.
The second part is mostly about how black women musicians have mined and honored the "archive" of previous black women's music to create their own. Again there is some music mentioned here that I want to go hear, especially Rhiannon Giddens. I'm not 100% sure what Brooks means, that when discussing these three musicians (Giddens, Valerie June, and Cécile McLorin Salvant) she points out several times that their audiences are overwhelmingly white. Is it an issue of access - that they perform in venues that are mostly inhospitable to the average person black or white, such as Lincoln Center? Is it puzzlement over who finds their music appealing? - this is comes up in quotes from interviews with Giddens, that she herself is puzzled by it. Is it a quiet hint that once again white people are trying to polish their woke bonafides by patronizing black musicians that don't push their auditory limits? I don't quite know.
The most interesting segment of the second part, for me, was the discussion of two black women from Texas who traveled to Wisconsin around 1930 to record sides for Paramount Records. I am not a student of early 20th century blues, or a collector of 78s, so I had never heard of Geeshie Wiley and LV Thomas, but I was completely compelled by their story. This part of the book also considers the role of white 78 collectors in the way the story of early black music is told (who gets those records, and how, and from whom? which ones are most valued?), as well as how record stores and 78s and little record players became so important to black listeners in the 1930s and 40s. Six tracks remain of whatever Wiley and Thomas recorded, and they are some of the most sought-after pieces of shellac in the world. Unfortunately, this often leads to people with the music and the information hoarding it, which means when they die it's just lost. Anytime I read about people trying to solve such mysteries by research, it really perks up my ears, so the search for Geeshie and LV fascinated me. Brooks cites a NYT Magazine article about them from 2014 which describes the almost cloak-and-dagger operation that broke some of this information out of a hoard. I went looking for that article, found it online, and was also rewarded with a couple of embedded songs from their records. I can only say to go read the article and listen to the clips - what voices.
The book ends with an epilogue that focuses on Beyoncé's "Lemonade" and how it draws upon black music and history.
This book really isn't going to be for everyone and I'm amazed it's in my local public library. It almost wasn't for me - I can never remember what "heuristic" means, and I don't use "ludic" or "imbricated" in my entire life as much as they were used in a single chapter here (and I have to go look them up too), and I hate the verb "musicking" - Brooks did not make this up, I've seen it in other books by musicians in the academy - but I still hate it! But beneath the academic language and the kind of meta nature of it (not about music, but about writing about music), there is a lot here that is very worth knowing, and some music I have to go find now.