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The Residue Years
Mitchell S. Jackson grew up black in a neglected neighborhood in America’s whitest city, Portland, Oregon. In the ’90s, those streets and beyond had fallen under the shadow of crack cocaine and its familiar mayhem. In his commanding autobiographical novel, Mitchell writes what it was to come of age in that time and place, with a break-out voice that’s nothing less than extraordinary.
The Residue Years switches between the perspectives of a young man, Champ, and his mother, Grace. Grace is just out of a drug treatment program, trying to stay clean and get her kids back. Champ is trying to do right by his mom and younger brothers, and dreams of reclaiming the only home he and his family have ever shared. But selling crack is the only sure way he knows to achieve his dream. In this world of few options and little opportunity, where love is your strength and your weakness, this family fights for family and against what tears one apart.
Honest in its portrayal, with cadences that dazzle, The Residue Years signals the arrival of a writer set to awe.
The Residue Years switches between the perspectives of a young man, Champ, and his mother, Grace. Grace is just out of a drug treatment program, trying to stay clean and get her kids back. Champ is trying to do right by his mom and younger brothers, and dreams of reclaiming the only home he and his family have ever shared. But selling crack is the only sure way he knows to achieve his dream. In this world of few options and little opportunity, where love is your strength and your weakness, this family fights for family and against what tears one apart.
Honest in its portrayal, with cadences that dazzle, The Residue Years signals the arrival of a writer set to awe.
352 pages, Hardcover
First published August 20, 2013
127 people are currently reading
4017 people want to read
About the author
Mitchell S. Jackson
8 books246 followersMitchell S. Jackson’s debut novel The Residue Years received wide critical praise. Jackson is the winner of a Whiting Award. His novel also won The Ernest J. Gaines Prize for Literary Excellence and was a finalist for The Center for Fiction Flaherty-Dunnan First Novel Prize, the PEN / Hemingway Award for Debut Fiction, and the Hurston / Wright Legacy Award. Jackson’s honors include fellowships from the Lannan Foundation, the Ford Foundation, PEN America, TED, NYFA (New York Foundation for the Arts), and The Center for Fiction. His writing has appeared in The New York Times Book Review, The Paris Review, The Guardian, Tin House, and elsewhere. His nonfiction book Survival Math: Notes on an All-American Family is forthcoming from Scribner. Jackson is a Clinical Associate Professor of writing in the Liberal Studies at New York University.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 234 reviews
December 2, 2014
I’ve mentioned this before on the site, but I am white. Very white – I’ve never been discriminated against because of color, asked to empty my pockets in a store, worried about getting service in a bar or restaurant, had to think about what colors I would wear that day based on the neighborhoods I would be in.
On the same line, I was raised amazingly middle class. I lacked no essentials growing up. My family never had to choose between necessities or worry about making the mortgage or even make me pay for the total of my education (at least that I know of).
The reason why my race and class is important in this review is simple: all I know about growing up black, growing up poor, growing up with any real disadvantage is what I’ve learned from books and other people’s stories.
I used to tell people I read so much because I was the most boring person in the world – I had to take on other lives and perspectives. Mitchell S. Jackson’s The Residue Years is exactly the type of story I love taking on, simply because this is shit I’d never know and never experience if not for reading amazing first-person stories like this.
The novel itself isn’t a strict autobiography, although it could be. Jackson’s a young black male from a poor neighborhood in Portland, one of the whitest cities in the U.S, who moved onto writing after spending his younger years in prison for drug crimes. God, it’s crazy to think about all the talent sitting around in our jail cells – it’s foolish to think Jackson’s the only smart writer who’s done time.
To the novel, which is told through the eyes of two family members whose lives are torn by the crack epidemic. First, there’s Grace, mother of four boys, just out of rehab (again), trying her hardest to put her faith in God, the program and the goodness of others. Then, (and I’d love to know just how autobiographical this character may be), there’s Champ, a college boy who’s got a way with words, but finds more success and better means for his family by selling on the streets.
The goals of this family are by no means monumental. Champ wants to keep the family home in their possession, wants to set a good example for his little brothers, help keep his mama clean and take care of his girl, the love of his life beauty Kim. Grace just wants to make it this time. She wants to apply for jobs and tell her employers the truth: she’s been busted, gone through rehab, done some wrong, but can work like no other. And later, when her ability to care for the younger boys is called into question, just wants to keep her family intact.
It fucking runs them though, the drugs. Without constant support, without a sign from God or seeing the smile of her boys, it’s hard for Grace not to slip back into her own ways. And when Champ needs money – not for flashy new shoes or to blow on weed – maybe for school, maybe to pay rent on the family home, or later, to provide for his pregnant girlfriend and the upcoming child, the easiest/surest way for a guy of his race/class/status/neighborhood is to hustle.
Geez, I don’t know if there’s a whole lot more for me to say. This is so far from being my story to tell in any way. The writing is terrific, I can’t believe how fresh a voice Jackson’s got. Really though, if you’re in the same boat as me (privileged, white, privileged because you’re white), please read this.
On the same line, I was raised amazingly middle class. I lacked no essentials growing up. My family never had to choose between necessities or worry about making the mortgage or even make me pay for the total of my education (at least that I know of).
The reason why my race and class is important in this review is simple: all I know about growing up black, growing up poor, growing up with any real disadvantage is what I’ve learned from books and other people’s stories.
I used to tell people I read so much because I was the most boring person in the world – I had to take on other lives and perspectives. Mitchell S. Jackson’s The Residue Years is exactly the type of story I love taking on, simply because this is shit I’d never know and never experience if not for reading amazing first-person stories like this.
The novel itself isn’t a strict autobiography, although it could be. Jackson’s a young black male from a poor neighborhood in Portland, one of the whitest cities in the U.S, who moved onto writing after spending his younger years in prison for drug crimes. God, it’s crazy to think about all the talent sitting around in our jail cells – it’s foolish to think Jackson’s the only smart writer who’s done time.
To the novel, which is told through the eyes of two family members whose lives are torn by the crack epidemic. First, there’s Grace, mother of four boys, just out of rehab (again), trying her hardest to put her faith in God, the program and the goodness of others. Then, (and I’d love to know just how autobiographical this character may be), there’s Champ, a college boy who’s got a way with words, but finds more success and better means for his family by selling on the streets.
The goals of this family are by no means monumental. Champ wants to keep the family home in their possession, wants to set a good example for his little brothers, help keep his mama clean and take care of his girl, the love of his life beauty Kim. Grace just wants to make it this time. She wants to apply for jobs and tell her employers the truth: she’s been busted, gone through rehab, done some wrong, but can work like no other. And later, when her ability to care for the younger boys is called into question, just wants to keep her family intact.
It fucking runs them though, the drugs. Without constant support, without a sign from God or seeing the smile of her boys, it’s hard for Grace not to slip back into her own ways. And when Champ needs money – not for flashy new shoes or to blow on weed – maybe for school, maybe to pay rent on the family home, or later, to provide for his pregnant girlfriend and the upcoming child, the easiest/surest way for a guy of his race/class/status/neighborhood is to hustle.
Geez, I don’t know if there’s a whole lot more for me to say. This is so far from being my story to tell in any way. The writing is terrific, I can’t believe how fresh a voice Jackson’s got. Really though, if you’re in the same boat as me (privileged, white, privileged because you’re white), please read this.
February 2, 2015
Fucking amazing, fucking killed me. Not recommended reading for wintertime. I'm angrier and sadder through this novel than I have been in a long time. This book was written for part of me, this book rips into the reminder that I am constantly grieving over the loss of what things were in Portland, what things are now becoming.
I was safer than any of these characters, but it was only three miles from where this takes place. I've walked the same places and seen the same people. The blackness embodied in this work is important, I'm glad to see it as the Everybody Reads Book for the county, even if it's really tough at this time of year.
Fuck, it just hurts so much.
Edit: Fuck y'all who say the vocab is too much and wouldn't come from this character. He's a college senior who is thinking about going into polisci. If it was coming from a white character in the same situation you wouldn't have commented on it. Fuck you.
Read for Multnomah Country Library: Everybody Reads 2015
I was safer than any of these characters, but it was only three miles from where this takes place. I've walked the same places and seen the same people. The blackness embodied in this work is important, I'm glad to see it as the Everybody Reads Book for the county, even if it's really tough at this time of year.
Fuck, it just hurts so much.
Edit: Fuck y'all who say the vocab is too much and wouldn't come from this character. He's a college senior who is thinking about going into polisci. If it was coming from a white character in the same situation you wouldn't have commented on it. Fuck you.
Read for Multnomah Country Library: Everybody Reads 2015
May 7, 2014
“Son, if you’re going to risk your love, save all the space you can for hurt.”--GraceThis spectacular debut novel was a finalist for the 2014 Pen/Hemingway Award, an award that went ultimately to NoViolet Bulawayo for her astonishing debut We Need New Names. Jackson has an earlier book of stories and essays called Oversoul: Stories and Essays, published in 2012, which deserves to be unearthed.
This fiction has the feel of real lives on the brink, aided by the coldly invasive government forms and drug treatment schedules that divide sections of the story. Never been booked nor needed to fill out an Incident Report? No matter. The folks here can tell you just how hopeless it feels, and how little of the whole story those forms capture. And they’ll tell you they never want to have to do it again, hoping against hope that they and everyone else in their neighborhood-sized universe have the strength or wherewithal to stay straight.
Grace and Champ (“name it first, then make it so”), mother and son, come close, so close, to fulfilling the promise of their names. This is the story of their curved and intersecting paths: how Grace, straight from rehab, is cherished by Champ and how Champ creates a vision of world he has control over. He’s determined: “Say it first and believe it second; that’s my psalm.” No one else is creating a habitable place for those he loves—why shouldn’t he?
The Pacific Northwest has its share of the complicated rhythms of race. This story is set in the ‘hoods of Portland, where it rains almost constantly and most of the population is whiter ‘n a salt lick. There are just enough black people about to remind you the importance of family.
We watch a boy do a man’s work and a mother try to marshal inner reserves that are too meager. The character of Michael jittering out of the gloom on a rainy night strikes terror, and rightly so. “With friends like these…”
The interleaved voices of Champ and Grace circle one another like a contrapuntal melody, each adding emphasis and context until finally coming together in a sinuous and discordant harmony. The outcome we have feared from the start has the smooth and clarion inevitability of Greek tragedy or a blues progression.
“Listen, don’t forget this. Don’t let this slip your mind. Most of us, if we’re lucky, we see a few seconds of the high life. And the rest are the residue years.”--Mister
August 21, 2013
The Residue Years is the gripping debut novel by Mitchell S. Jackson that explores the depths one will go to in order to make their family whole again. We are introduced to Champ and Grace through their narrated alternate chapters. Grace is fresh out of rehab and trying to remain sober. Her reason for being sober is to someday get her two younger sons back. Champ has the same idea in mind of getting his family together again by way of buying back the only home they have ever lived in together.
The Residue Years is a difficult book to review because it has many themes and issues it brings to light. Mitchell S. Jackson brilliantly expresses the plight of many urban families that try and try to do their best(even if by less than legal means) and still never seem to get anywhere. It is evident during Champ's chapters that he is intelligent and is even teased as being a college boy. His goal of getting a house leads him on a path that is foreshadowed in the beginning of the novel. Although I knew where his profession as a drug-dealer would lead him, I needed to find out how.
Grace is as equally intriguing as her son Champ is. By using first-person Jackson is able to really allow readers insight to her thought processes. We can truly understand her struggle with staying straight and what it means for her if she fails. I wanted so much for her to do well and overcome her obstacles and really redeem herself as a mother.
On many levels, although the characters are in an urban setting, their goals are not unlike others all across America. It's a pretty universal idea to want a family that's together living in a home that is their own. For Champ, owning this house means so much. Enough so that he risks his future to obtain it. In a world full of broken dreams, absent parents, systematic racial profiling, and no hopes of ever escaping (unless you can hoop), these two dared to dream.
Because this is written in the first-person there are moments where scenes can seem a little disjointed and this would be my only gripe. Because of how richly drawn both Champ and Grace are, I couldn't help but continue forward even when I felt I was missing something crucial that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Eventually the author's writing style became familiar enough that I didn't notice so much there were no parentheses.
Overall, The Residue Years is a story of redemption, love, family, and the choices we make that affect the ones we love the most. If someone is looking for a novel with a cliche ending that promises butterflies, rainbows, and unicorns this is not the book for you. I really enjoyed this novel and will patiently wait for what's next from Mitchell S. Jackson.
The Residue Years is a difficult book to review because it has many themes and issues it brings to light. Mitchell S. Jackson brilliantly expresses the plight of many urban families that try and try to do their best(even if by less than legal means) and still never seem to get anywhere. It is evident during Champ's chapters that he is intelligent and is even teased as being a college boy. His goal of getting a house leads him on a path that is foreshadowed in the beginning of the novel. Although I knew where his profession as a drug-dealer would lead him, I needed to find out how.
Grace is as equally intriguing as her son Champ is. By using first-person Jackson is able to really allow readers insight to her thought processes. We can truly understand her struggle with staying straight and what it means for her if she fails. I wanted so much for her to do well and overcome her obstacles and really redeem herself as a mother.
On many levels, although the characters are in an urban setting, their goals are not unlike others all across America. It's a pretty universal idea to want a family that's together living in a home that is their own. For Champ, owning this house means so much. Enough so that he risks his future to obtain it. In a world full of broken dreams, absent parents, systematic racial profiling, and no hopes of ever escaping (unless you can hoop), these two dared to dream.
Because this is written in the first-person there are moments where scenes can seem a little disjointed and this would be my only gripe. Because of how richly drawn both Champ and Grace are, I couldn't help but continue forward even when I felt I was missing something crucial that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Eventually the author's writing style became familiar enough that I didn't notice so much there were no parentheses.
Overall, The Residue Years is a story of redemption, love, family, and the choices we make that affect the ones we love the most. If someone is looking for a novel with a cliche ending that promises butterflies, rainbows, and unicorns this is not the book for you. I really enjoyed this novel and will patiently wait for what's next from Mitchell S. Jackson.
November 10, 2015
Grace is released from a drug treatment center. She's on probation, and must get a job and stay clean in order to stay free and have a chance at getting her kids back from her ex. Grace is educated, worked in corporate America until she was swept up in the crack era of the 80s. It's been an uphill battle ever since.
Her eldest son, Champ, is in college, being responsible and helping his mom the best way he can: salon visits, clothes for interviews, a car to get around, a shoulder to lean on, keeping his knuckle head little brothers in line. But how does he pay for this? And how does he pay for school and his apartment and his car, or care for his pregnant girlfriend? And how does he plan to fulfill his dream to buy back his great grandparents home and bring his family back together under one roof?
He sells crack. The very thing that ruined his mother's life. That's how.
A lot of people may know somebody like Grace, full of potential and drive, but sidetracked by a demon that preys on the brokenhearted and unfulfilled. And many may know a Champ, being everything for everybody, while making a million mistakes along the way.
The Residue Years is a book about drugs and the destruction of families. It is about the hood. It is about addiction. And salvation. And working as hard as you can, the only way you know how. It is about fear. And God. And love: a mother's love, a son's love, a brother's love.
Jackson proves through every sentence that he has been there and done that. He is not a spectator in this, as this novel mirrors his own life. Oh, and the writing... the writing in this book is both street and smart. Urban and literary. Altogether phenomenal. It is a heartwrenching, engrossing novel with an ending that will leave you feeling like you've just run up 10 flights of stairs.
Her eldest son, Champ, is in college, being responsible and helping his mom the best way he can: salon visits, clothes for interviews, a car to get around, a shoulder to lean on, keeping his knuckle head little brothers in line. But how does he pay for this? And how does he pay for school and his apartment and his car, or care for his pregnant girlfriend? And how does he plan to fulfill his dream to buy back his great grandparents home and bring his family back together under one roof?
He sells crack. The very thing that ruined his mother's life. That's how.
A lot of people may know somebody like Grace, full of potential and drive, but sidetracked by a demon that preys on the brokenhearted and unfulfilled. And many may know a Champ, being everything for everybody, while making a million mistakes along the way.
The Residue Years is a book about drugs and the destruction of families. It is about the hood. It is about addiction. And salvation. And working as hard as you can, the only way you know how. It is about fear. And God. And love: a mother's love, a son's love, a brother's love.
Jackson proves through every sentence that he has been there and done that. He is not a spectator in this, as this novel mirrors his own life. Oh, and the writing... the writing in this book is both street and smart. Urban and literary. Altogether phenomenal. It is a heartwrenching, engrossing novel with an ending that will leave you feeling like you've just run up 10 flights of stairs.
October 24, 2018
3.5 stars? This is a challenging read, for many, many reasons, and took me some time to start getting used to it and really be able to take it all in.
The ending is set in place from the beginning. This is the bitter, harsh reality of real life. The reader watches as the inevitable happens, horrified but unable to look away. Set in Portland in the US state of Oregon, Grace is an addict trying to remain sober, while her eldest son Champ becomes a dealer to make a living, feeling he has no other choice with the cards he's been dealt. The bond between these two is so strong and special, and that makes it all the more heartbreaking when things gradually full apart. Perhaps it was always the hardest to see how Grace could remain sober and get back her younger sons; the passages detailing what she is up against are harrowing:
The book is told through alternating chapters using these two contrasting narrators, Grace and Champ, and honestly the shift is quite jarring at first. Both narrators have very individual voices, Champ in particular, who makes use of a bizarre combination of street slang and the kind of vocabulary you'd find in his academic essays. I found the book very confusing and really hard to follow at first, which isn't helped by the lack of quotation marks (I hate this trend in contemporary fiction!), but it does get better once the novel finds it's rhythm. My advice is to stick with it.
Phew! I am emotionally exhausted after both finishing this book and writing the review. Recommended, but prepare yourself!
The ending is set in place from the beginning. This is the bitter, harsh reality of real life. The reader watches as the inevitable happens, horrified but unable to look away. Set in Portland in the US state of Oregon, Grace is an addict trying to remain sober, while her eldest son Champ becomes a dealer to make a living, feeling he has no other choice with the cards he's been dealt. The bond between these two is so strong and special, and that makes it all the more heartbreaking when things gradually full apart. Perhaps it was always the hardest to see how Grace could remain sober and get back her younger sons; the passages detailing what she is up against are harrowing:
It's like lightning, like love, like the cure. And if you haven't felt it you can't judge—or at least shouldn't. If you haven't felt it, how could you ever really know what us addicts, us experts, are up against in this life of programs and counselors and sponsors, what we face because of or in spite of our earned expertise?But for Champ? So young and with such promise... Champ is a dreamer and he dreams that he can help his family get out of trouble. He is determined and believes he can stay in control of events, stop them from spiralling: Say it first and believe it second; that’s my psalm. And why shouldn't he dream big? Why shouldn't he want the best for his family? If he doesn't, who else would there be to help?
[...]
They say and they say and it sounds so easy, as if living clean is no more than hitting the right switch, as if it takes something less than heroics to face history dead-on, to accept the life we've earned.
The book is told through alternating chapters using these two contrasting narrators, Grace and Champ, and honestly the shift is quite jarring at first. Both narrators have very individual voices, Champ in particular, who makes use of a bizarre combination of street slang and the kind of vocabulary you'd find in his academic essays. I found the book very confusing and really hard to follow at first, which isn't helped by the lack of quotation marks (I hate this trend in contemporary fiction!), but it does get better once the novel finds it's rhythm. My advice is to stick with it.
Phew! I am emotionally exhausted after both finishing this book and writing the review. Recommended, but prepare yourself!
Read
May 1, 2013There will be temptation to put Mitchell Jackson's formidable debut novel in a convenient box but a true reading defies segregation, one of the book's many knockout victories. "The Residue Years" speaks in melodies about a grim world you think you know yet likely never inhabited. Inhabit Jackson's song, a ballad about family, struggle—and struggle for and with family—while finally seeing the face of systemic racism, gentrification, failed hoop dreams, and a misguided drug war that makes criminals of victims. See the face and feel the breaking heart. And also be lifted up because this fantastic achievement speaks ultimately of love.
September 13, 2013
This is a different kind of Portland novel and Mitchell Jackson is a different kind of Gordon Lish student. Told in alternating chapters that ramp up the turmoil while highlighting the bond between a struggling mother and her well-meaning son, Jackson's language is slang heavy and street tough without being hokey. The story (based on his own experiences) provides a searing, moving, and sometimes funny look at what it was like to be black in 1990s Portland. Should probably be required reading for any white Portland homesteader.
March 21, 2017
I love this book. It's interesting to claim it as an "autobiographical novel," intentionally setting the pace between fact and fiction. I appreciate so much seeing the Portland I know well, though now through another's eyes. I've used this in classes, and we talk about so many important things. I'm glad to share this book with students, and friends.
July 28, 2016
This book was an emotional roller coaster! The stories and characters, the language all felt familiar to me. This is a well written account of surviving against the odds and a book that is creative in its structure and definitely worth reading.
September 12, 2013
This is a challenging, heartbreaking book. It chronicles the lives of a poor African-American mother and son in Portland in the 1990s. Grace, the mother, is a recovering drug addict. She emerges from rehab and tries to reunite her family while working a minimum-wage job and living in project housing filled with drug-related temptation. Champ, her son, is a contradiction: a bright, penetrating young man who's about to graduate from the local university, but sells crack on the side. The bond between mother and son is strong, virtually unbreakable, and each is trying, in his or her own way, to pull the other up. I loved these words of Champ's:
"My mother will be out soon, and I can predict the promises she'll make, a script after years I can recite verbatim, speeches she may believe, but maybe doesn't. But that matters not. Whatever plans Mom has this time, grand or small, starry-eyed or dull, my plans will be under her plans holding her up.
Oneverything I love. We. Won't. Lose."
Yet despite this unwavering hope, the demons both face are, in the end, insurmountable, and ironically, mother and son's devotion to one another is what leads to their downfall.
The book shifts back and forth between the points of view of Champ and Grace. Their voices are beautiful and unique, especially Champ's, which is a fascinating combination of street slang and advanced vocabulary. It threw me at first, but once I fell into its rhythm, it had a really cool lilt to it.
The Residue Years is a sad, powerful book about what poverty and drugs do to families and to even the most promising young people. “Most of us, if we’re lucky, we see a few seconds of the good life,” Mister, a local drug kingpin, tells Champ. “And the rest are the residue years.”
"My mother will be out soon, and I can predict the promises she'll make, a script after years I can recite verbatim, speeches she may believe, but maybe doesn't. But that matters not. Whatever plans Mom has this time, grand or small, starry-eyed or dull, my plans will be under her plans holding her up.
Oneverything I love. We. Won't. Lose."
Yet despite this unwavering hope, the demons both face are, in the end, insurmountable, and ironically, mother and son's devotion to one another is what leads to their downfall.
The book shifts back and forth between the points of view of Champ and Grace. Their voices are beautiful and unique, especially Champ's, which is a fascinating combination of street slang and advanced vocabulary. It threw me at first, but once I fell into its rhythm, it had a really cool lilt to it.
The Residue Years is a sad, powerful book about what poverty and drugs do to families and to even the most promising young people. “Most of us, if we’re lucky, we see a few seconds of the good life,” Mister, a local drug kingpin, tells Champ. “And the rest are the residue years.”
March 28, 2016
Takes some getting used to, and I almost quit right off the bat. But it "takes some getting used to" in the way Milton or Homer do -- meaning it's worth it, to stick with it, to unlock it. To get to the love and honor and betrayal and naivety. Jackson expertly develops three-dimensional characters that you can't help caring about and loving, even as they do awful things.
Jackson explains Portland's complicated history of white flight and (re?-)gentrification in one paragraph: "I was just talkin to my grandmama about it, Famous says. She said it used to be nothing but white folks living here. Said we used to be out there by where Delta Park is. Then, after the flood, we moved on this side and white folks moved out. So really they're just reclaiming the neighborhood. Don't y'all watch the news? Didn't y'all see the big story on gentrification?" An accurate history, that does little to solve anything in the now. But does explain the Polish and old-Europe communities that still root here in churches and markets and legacy.
One of the best explanations for higher learning comes from Champ's PSU Professor Haskins, on post-grad work: "The program is two years. Trust me, time will pass no matter. You might as well do something with it."
Just don't think this book isn't going to be a tragedy.
Jackson explains Portland's complicated history of white flight and (re?-)gentrification in one paragraph: "I was just talkin to my grandmama about it, Famous says. She said it used to be nothing but white folks living here. Said we used to be out there by where Delta Park is. Then, after the flood, we moved on this side and white folks moved out. So really they're just reclaiming the neighborhood. Don't y'all watch the news? Didn't y'all see the big story on gentrification?" An accurate history, that does little to solve anything in the now. But does explain the Polish and old-Europe communities that still root here in churches and markets and legacy.
One of the best explanations for higher learning comes from Champ's PSU Professor Haskins, on post-grad work: "The program is two years. Trust me, time will pass no matter. You might as well do something with it."
Just don't think this book isn't going to be a tragedy.
January 26, 2015
A beautiful, horrific, lyrical, and dark novel. An amazing work, even more so as a first novel. I find myself speechless and deeply sad - both because of what I read, and because I'm done.
December 23, 2020
“Listen, don't forget this. Don't let this slip your mind. Most of us, if we're lucky, we see a few seconds of the high life. And the rest are the residue years”
Jackson’s novel is told in two different POV.
champ: a loving son. Determined to buy his childhood home for his mother and younger brothers.
Grace: champ’s mother who is recently out of rehab and determined to be better this time.
On it’s surface, Jackson’s novel appears to be a story that we have all heard before; however, the way that he writes this story makes it seem brand new. What does family really mean? Who holds who accountable? When is enough enough? Is there really a “way out”? Are these bad people or just products of bad situations?
These are questions that I believe are at the heart of Jackson’s novel. Champ is blinded by his dream (or delusion) to get something for his peoples—his childhood home. But in reality it has nothing to do with the home itself but everything to do with a memory of when times were good. Champ seemingly has one foot in the past and one foot in the present which makes me him walk in circles repeating cycles of emotional abuse. Grace, Champ’s mom, although is caught in a cycle of her own manages to have a little bit more of a grasp on reality. She knows what she is—a drug addict. She knows whenever she’s in “recovery” she heads to church. She seems aware that she clings to religion in order to deem herself better than those around her. Yet, even though she understands who and what she is she is still unable to take responsibility and relies heavily on Champ.
This story of survival, love, family, dreams both lived and forgotten is one that is honest and powerful. Jackson is able to weave major themes—school to prison pipeline, gentrification, war on drugs, etc—in an intimate way that doesn’t make the book feel like a history lesson. The writing in this novel is immaculate! It is direct and purposeful. Word choice and syntax do the work to move the story a long in a way that I feel only Jackson would have been able to do.
Five. Whole. Stars.
Jackson’s novel is told in two different POV.
champ: a loving son. Determined to buy his childhood home for his mother and younger brothers.
Grace: champ’s mother who is recently out of rehab and determined to be better this time.
On it’s surface, Jackson’s novel appears to be a story that we have all heard before; however, the way that he writes this story makes it seem brand new. What does family really mean? Who holds who accountable? When is enough enough? Is there really a “way out”? Are these bad people or just products of bad situations?
These are questions that I believe are at the heart of Jackson’s novel. Champ is blinded by his dream (or delusion) to get something for his peoples—his childhood home. But in reality it has nothing to do with the home itself but everything to do with a memory of when times were good. Champ seemingly has one foot in the past and one foot in the present which makes me him walk in circles repeating cycles of emotional abuse. Grace, Champ’s mom, although is caught in a cycle of her own manages to have a little bit more of a grasp on reality. She knows what she is—a drug addict. She knows whenever she’s in “recovery” she heads to church. She seems aware that she clings to religion in order to deem herself better than those around her. Yet, even though she understands who and what she is she is still unable to take responsibility and relies heavily on Champ.
This story of survival, love, family, dreams both lived and forgotten is one that is honest and powerful. Jackson is able to weave major themes—school to prison pipeline, gentrification, war on drugs, etc—in an intimate way that doesn’t make the book feel like a history lesson. The writing in this novel is immaculate! It is direct and purposeful. Word choice and syntax do the work to move the story a long in a way that I feel only Jackson would have been able to do.
Five. Whole. Stars.
August 22, 2020
This book is stuffed with beauty. Every page drops imagery that feels contemporary and fresh, as does the structure and style of this novel. At first, I felt that parts were slow and sludgy, but they were building into an emotional kick that I hadn’t noticed until the end. It felt like Moonlight in a novel.
I wish more people knew about this book. I wish more people knew the excellence of Mitchell Jackson. I wish I heard these voices, saw this city, listened to these stories earlier, but now will do, and I’ll continue to read Jackson’s work.
I wish more people knew about this book. I wish more people knew the excellence of Mitchell Jackson. I wish I heard these voices, saw this city, listened to these stories earlier, but now will do, and I’ll continue to read Jackson’s work.
November 1, 2024
*spoilers in this review!*
"Real talk, if making tough decisions is part of being a man, then I might wind up a Geritol-popping juvenile."
I decided to do a review on this book while it's still on my mind. Just finished it today and while the start was a bit slow and confusing, the story quickly picked up.
The Residue Years bounces between the POV of Champ and his mother, Grace. Grace has recently been released from prison and is on a path to graduate from her parole program and get her two younger sons back. Their father, however, has something to say about that.
Champ, more than anything, loves and cares for his mother. Everything he does is for his family-- his brothers, his girl, their unborn child, his mother. Champ's dream is to earn enough money to buy back the home that the family used to live in, back when the family was happy, before Grace became a felon and went to prison, before the family was torn apart and moved to every run down neighborhood in the Portland area.
To achieve this dream, Champ sells crack. Grace tries hard not to know.
I found Jackson's voice, simply the way he describes something as simple as a political sign in a yard to be enchanting. I feel like I'm there, in run down Portland, what he calls the 'whitest city in America'. He talks about her girls hair, calling them lustrous tresses as she sashays out of his life. Of his father, a man who abandoned Grace and the family when he was most needed and now wants to take the thing that means the most to her, he says, "he has the face of a martyr, a man who hasn't been crucified enough for his sins." Powerful words and phrases that aren't just ink on a page, but fraught with deep meaning.
Jackson often breaks 'the fourth wall' .From the beginning of the story, he calls himself on his own BS. "Godsend? One of you should have checked me for that." "Enough of this fantasyland sh_t." This creates an atmosphere, a relationship between writer and reader that feels like Champ sitting back, telling the story to an old friend.
Grace's chapters are the most heartbreaking. Her life, post prison release is hard. Finding work, working long hours for not enough money and being responsible enough to show the state that you've learned your lesson obviously wears hard on her. The decisions that Grace makes all have consequence and watching her slow slide back into a life she's trying so hard to climb out of had me turning pages with fury.
What keeps me from marking this book as a five star? The edgy, artsy decision to omit quotation marks. For the most part, it's easy to tell what's dialogue and what's exposition, but this took some getting used to. It was distracting to wonder who was speaking-- the narrator, or the character.
I'm already planning to read Mitchell Jackson's next novel Oversoul. I hope it's just as great!
"Real talk, if making tough decisions is part of being a man, then I might wind up a Geritol-popping juvenile."
I decided to do a review on this book while it's still on my mind. Just finished it today and while the start was a bit slow and confusing, the story quickly picked up.
The Residue Years bounces between the POV of Champ and his mother, Grace. Grace has recently been released from prison and is on a path to graduate from her parole program and get her two younger sons back. Their father, however, has something to say about that.
Champ, more than anything, loves and cares for his mother. Everything he does is for his family-- his brothers, his girl, their unborn child, his mother. Champ's dream is to earn enough money to buy back the home that the family used to live in, back when the family was happy, before Grace became a felon and went to prison, before the family was torn apart and moved to every run down neighborhood in the Portland area.
To achieve this dream, Champ sells crack. Grace tries hard not to know.
I found Jackson's voice, simply the way he describes something as simple as a political sign in a yard to be enchanting. I feel like I'm there, in run down Portland, what he calls the 'whitest city in America'. He talks about her girls hair, calling them lustrous tresses as she sashays out of his life. Of his father, a man who abandoned Grace and the family when he was most needed and now wants to take the thing that means the most to her, he says, "he has the face of a martyr, a man who hasn't been crucified enough for his sins." Powerful words and phrases that aren't just ink on a page, but fraught with deep meaning.
Jackson often breaks 'the fourth wall' .From the beginning of the story, he calls himself on his own BS. "Godsend? One of you should have checked me for that." "Enough of this fantasyland sh_t." This creates an atmosphere, a relationship between writer and reader that feels like Champ sitting back, telling the story to an old friend.
Grace's chapters are the most heartbreaking. Her life, post prison release is hard. Finding work, working long hours for not enough money and being responsible enough to show the state that you've learned your lesson obviously wears hard on her. The decisions that Grace makes all have consequence and watching her slow slide back into a life she's trying so hard to climb out of had me turning pages with fury.
What keeps me from marking this book as a five star? The edgy, artsy decision to omit quotation marks. For the most part, it's easy to tell what's dialogue and what's exposition, but this took some getting used to. It was distracting to wonder who was speaking-- the narrator, or the character.
I'm already planning to read Mitchell Jackson's next novel Oversoul. I hope it's just as great!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 16, 2015
With 'The Residue Years' a selection for community read by the local public library in Portland, Oregon -- the hometown of the author and setting for this semi-autobiographical novel -- I'm sure not to be the last Portlander to remark on this excellent first novel by Mitchell Jackson. Strangely, some Portlanders writing before me have commented on how unfamiliar Jackson's Portland is to them and occasionally on the 'uncharacteristic' poor choices made by the dual protagonists, college-aged Champ and his mother Grace. In my contrary opinion, his Portland is all too familiar and the mistakes of his characters all too believable. 'The Residue Years' walks squarely down the middle of Portland streets that I've always found uncomfortable, conjuring a new sense of disquiet in the tragic circumstances of its characters and the shining possibilities held just out of their reach.
I was captivated by this book even as looming disasters turned my stomach with dread. It's no spoiler (thanks to the opening flash forward chapter) to say that this a novel of difficult circumstances, but how the characters find their collective way to the pre-revealed conclusion broke my heart. At the same time, the novel humanized their circumstances in a way that brought me closer to a community to which I have few adult connections.
I highly recommend this book, both to Portland readers who need a taste of the ethnic and class diversity sometimes well-hidden in this city, and to readers of all stripes and locales looking for compelling urban voices. Just be sure to bring your most courageous self along for those moments when things become frustratingly anxious for people that you will have grown to care about.
Nice work, Mr. Jackson.
I was captivated by this book even as looming disasters turned my stomach with dread. It's no spoiler (thanks to the opening flash forward chapter) to say that this a novel of difficult circumstances, but how the characters find their collective way to the pre-revealed conclusion broke my heart. At the same time, the novel humanized their circumstances in a way that brought me closer to a community to which I have few adult connections.
I highly recommend this book, both to Portland readers who need a taste of the ethnic and class diversity sometimes well-hidden in this city, and to readers of all stripes and locales looking for compelling urban voices. Just be sure to bring your most courageous self along for those moments when things become frustratingly anxious for people that you will have grown to care about.
Nice work, Mr. Jackson.
August 14, 2013
Residue Years is depressing from the start, so it's not something I will ever be able to re-read, but it's a surprisingly wonderful read all the same. It's not a book I thought I would be able to read even the first time.
Told in the voices of two protagonists - Grace, and her first born son Champ - it has no unexpected twists, and no redemption. The ending is pretty much set up from the very beginning. Grace is a crack addict who is trying to remain sober, and Champ has been dealt with such a rough hand that he has no choice but to deal crack to make a living. It can only end in so many ways, and the book chooses the worst. Reading the book was like watching a trainwreck - you know it's awful, but you still cannot turn away.
What made the book so compelling were the voices of Grace and Champ, both written with sensitivity and poignancy. But, there are flaws, notably the lack of any information on what made Grace first ingest crack, or what did she do and lose before her crack days. There are hints, but it's never outright said. In fact, the only reason for the whole drug abuse stems from a cheating husband (according to what I got), which as sad as it is, seems to me to trigger a disproportionate reaction. I would have liked to know for certain. It's not that I don't empathize with Grace, I do. But I think I could understand where she's coming from more had I been told a bit more of her past.
All in all, this is a great book. It's going to be a one time only for me, but I will definitely keep an eye out for the author's other books. 4 stars.
I received a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.
Told in the voices of two protagonists - Grace, and her first born son Champ - it has no unexpected twists, and no redemption. The ending is pretty much set up from the very beginning. Grace is a crack addict who is trying to remain sober, and Champ has been dealt with such a rough hand that he has no choice but to deal crack to make a living. It can only end in so many ways, and the book chooses the worst. Reading the book was like watching a trainwreck - you know it's awful, but you still cannot turn away.
What made the book so compelling were the voices of Grace and Champ, both written with sensitivity and poignancy. But, there are flaws, notably the lack of any information on what made Grace first ingest crack, or what did she do and lose before her crack days. There are hints, but it's never outright said. In fact, the only reason for the whole drug abuse stems from a cheating husband (according to what I got), which as sad as it is, seems to me to trigger a disproportionate reaction. I would have liked to know for certain. It's not that I don't empathize with Grace, I do. But I think I could understand where she's coming from more had I been told a bit more of her past.
All in all, this is a great book. It's going to be a one time only for me, but I will definitely keep an eye out for the author's other books. 4 stars.
I received a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.
August 11, 2015
3.5 stars
I'm happy to see this book getting such a big push around Portland. "Portlandia" has a national image as a kooky, liberal utopia, and the fact that it's overwhelmingly white is often used as a joke. That flippancy, though, ignores a long and violent past, and a history of displacement and racism that very much continues through the present day. Mitchell's novel serves as a forceful reminder of the Portland that's removed from the national image, and even from local consciousness - the lives that have largely been ignored or exist only as headlines about gang violence and drug raids; he draws his characters with empathy and humanity, and the bond between Grace and Champ is beautifully rendered. We certainly see their flaws and the way they rationalize their poor choices (particularly Champ, whose fate initially seems less inevitable than Grace's), but the weight of their situation allows us to see that much of what happens is inescapable - there are no easy choices, and very little help along the way.
Still, as a novel, some things work, and others don't. Grace is a heartbreaking character, but, as a narrator, she is elusive; we never get into her head quite the way we get into Champ's. The narrative has fits and starts and is sometimes uneven. Nevertheless, Mitchell's a vibrant writer, and The Residue Years is poignant read, sparking needed conversation about gentrification, poverty, community, and who is granted visibility and humanity.
I'm happy to see this book getting such a big push around Portland. "Portlandia" has a national image as a kooky, liberal utopia, and the fact that it's overwhelmingly white is often used as a joke. That flippancy, though, ignores a long and violent past, and a history of displacement and racism that very much continues through the present day. Mitchell's novel serves as a forceful reminder of the Portland that's removed from the national image, and even from local consciousness - the lives that have largely been ignored or exist only as headlines about gang violence and drug raids; he draws his characters with empathy and humanity, and the bond between Grace and Champ is beautifully rendered. We certainly see their flaws and the way they rationalize their poor choices (particularly Champ, whose fate initially seems less inevitable than Grace's), but the weight of their situation allows us to see that much of what happens is inescapable - there are no easy choices, and very little help along the way.
Still, as a novel, some things work, and others don't. Grace is a heartbreaking character, but, as a narrator, she is elusive; we never get into her head quite the way we get into Champ's. The narrative has fits and starts and is sometimes uneven. Nevertheless, Mitchell's a vibrant writer, and The Residue Years is poignant read, sparking needed conversation about gentrification, poverty, community, and who is granted visibility and humanity.
January 14, 2015
This is some fatalistic shit: gives you the ending first, jumps you back for an open look, than cuts your heart out with straight daggers. The prose when Champ is talking to you crackles and Grace pulls you in with melancholy and hope wrestling until the inevitable. Can you believe anything they say? Hell no and damn straight.
This is a novel about options, meaning there are no good ones. About the limits imposed on the black population. About the wrong choices being more available than the right ones. About love and how it ain't enough. About so much it is easy to lose sight of how big this novel is if one remains fixated on the details Champ is telling us or shaking our heads at Grace's fall.
I'm interested to see the discussions unfold Portland Reads finishes this novel.
This is a novel about options, meaning there are no good ones. About the limits imposed on the black population. About the wrong choices being more available than the right ones. About love and how it ain't enough. About so much it is easy to lose sight of how big this novel is if one remains fixated on the details Champ is telling us or shaking our heads at Grace's fall.
I'm interested to see the discussions unfold Portland Reads finishes this novel.
October 22, 2013
Really 2.5 stars. Minus half a star for betraying the character by inserting way way way too many SAT words into an otherwise convincing and compelling voice. Epicene. Ambit. Afflatus. Brisance. Just to name a few. Hard to swallow those words coming out of pretty much anyone's mouth or thought balloons but definitely not this character. Which was a shame, because despite the bleak story line (drug dealing son with a crack-smoking mother) I was hooked on the voice, and rooting for these downtrodden people, but distracted by the $10 words.
January 25, 2014
If the definition of poetry is any style of writing whose line length is determined by some other principle than the width of the page, Mr. Jackson has found that missing principle and called it prose. He possesses an uncanny “mouse” that points to the new and fresh, like an upcoming trend in fashion on the radar. His love of language transcends the immaculate norm, and gets down and dirty while retaining a rhythm of intellectual beats.
March 5, 2015
Beautifully heartbreaking and tragic, but full of love, family, trying, failing, trying again. It took me a chapter or two to fall into the rhythm, vernacular, and structure of the writing, but it was worth it.
February 9, 2024
The Residue Years is a novel about the crack/cocaine epidemic in Portland in the 90s, told through the lens of Grace, a recovering drug addict, and her son Champ, a drug dealer. It deals with the questions of whether or not we can truly escape ourselves and our worst impulses and whether we can truly rise up out of a system that has ruled over us our whole lives.
Addiction is a strong force that makes our modern world go around. You see it today with social media and the internet and consumerism. Not to mention drugs, violence, sex, food, etc. that have existed even longer. At its core, this novel is about addiction. Grace is fighting her addiction to drugs, but also her addiction to her old ways. Champ is also fighting addictions: to selling drugs and his old ways as well. Jackson is very matter-of-fact with his portrayal of these things. He presents triggers but doesn’t give us a linear explanation for addiction because there isn’t one. It’s messy and feels inevitable to those that struggle. There is no revelatory magic to addiction; it just is.
And while Jackson never lets his characters off the hook and presents the individual responsibility that lies at the heart of their actions and inactions, he also displays the systemic issues that have created this environment that his characters now struggle in. Addiction and crime in this specific time and place is more than just a character failing and he wasn’t shy about that. It’s easy for an outsider to say “why don’t they just stop?” when it comes to those two things. But more powerful forces are at play on the biological level and societal level. I do wish Jackson had explored this more, but since this is such a character-focused story I can also see why he didn’t. Many cycles are at play here concerning addiction and crime and we see these things passed down through families and (SPOILERS) see it passed down again towards the end (END SPOILERS).
I really felt for the characters and their world. A full-picture view is given of both Grace and Champ: their pasts, presents, possible futures, regrets and relationships. In a world of such struggle, we also see moments of levity: a trip to bowling alley or a movie theater, a family outing. But we also see how drugs offer what feels like a much-needed escape. Though this isn’t treated in a way that glamorizes or judges. Again, it just is. I liked this level of nuance that elevated the world of the story beyond one of mere trauma. These are real people fighting uphill against a sharp incline.
The voice Jackson uses is very effective here. It’s very colloquial but also literary and stylistic, creating a real unique synthesis.
The only criticism I have for this novel is that since it’s autobiographical in nature I did feel that there were certain details that were too indulgent on Jackson’s part. But this is autofiction, so maybe details I expect in non-fiction are what I should also make space for here. And overall they weren’t too distracting from the main thrust of the story.
The ending is what really made this book for me. I had been pretty into it before then, but the ending is what took it over the top for me and made me love it. (SPOILERS FOR REST OF REVIEW) Grace and Champ’s bad habits have been circling each other all novel, but in the finale they finally collide in a really powerful way. It’s intense and even a bit gross, but really hammers home the message of everything Jackson has been trying to say all novel: chiefly how much this world messes with the notion of family. And since this novel is all about cycles we don’t have the characters suddenly breaking free from the predicaments they’ve been struggling to escape from, finally finding the happiness they’ve been dreaming about all book. Instead we have them in much the same place or even a couple steps backwards, with a little bit of hope or improvement, but not much. And yet, as always, they’re still striving for something better.
Like this review? Feel free to comment to discuss further or add me to talk about books or see my other reviews.
Addiction is a strong force that makes our modern world go around. You see it today with social media and the internet and consumerism. Not to mention drugs, violence, sex, food, etc. that have existed even longer. At its core, this novel is about addiction. Grace is fighting her addiction to drugs, but also her addiction to her old ways. Champ is also fighting addictions: to selling drugs and his old ways as well. Jackson is very matter-of-fact with his portrayal of these things. He presents triggers but doesn’t give us a linear explanation for addiction because there isn’t one. It’s messy and feels inevitable to those that struggle. There is no revelatory magic to addiction; it just is.
And while Jackson never lets his characters off the hook and presents the individual responsibility that lies at the heart of their actions and inactions, he also displays the systemic issues that have created this environment that his characters now struggle in. Addiction and crime in this specific time and place is more than just a character failing and he wasn’t shy about that. It’s easy for an outsider to say “why don’t they just stop?” when it comes to those two things. But more powerful forces are at play on the biological level and societal level. I do wish Jackson had explored this more, but since this is such a character-focused story I can also see why he didn’t. Many cycles are at play here concerning addiction and crime and we see these things passed down through families and (SPOILERS) see it passed down again towards the end (END SPOILERS).
I really felt for the characters and their world. A full-picture view is given of both Grace and Champ: their pasts, presents, possible futures, regrets and relationships. In a world of such struggle, we also see moments of levity: a trip to bowling alley or a movie theater, a family outing. But we also see how drugs offer what feels like a much-needed escape. Though this isn’t treated in a way that glamorizes or judges. Again, it just is. I liked this level of nuance that elevated the world of the story beyond one of mere trauma. These are real people fighting uphill against a sharp incline.
The voice Jackson uses is very effective here. It’s very colloquial but also literary and stylistic, creating a real unique synthesis.
The only criticism I have for this novel is that since it’s autobiographical in nature I did feel that there were certain details that were too indulgent on Jackson’s part. But this is autofiction, so maybe details I expect in non-fiction are what I should also make space for here. And overall they weren’t too distracting from the main thrust of the story.
The ending is what really made this book for me. I had been pretty into it before then, but the ending is what took it over the top for me and made me love it. (SPOILERS FOR REST OF REVIEW) Grace and Champ’s bad habits have been circling each other all novel, but in the finale they finally collide in a really powerful way. It’s intense and even a bit gross, but really hammers home the message of everything Jackson has been trying to say all novel: chiefly how much this world messes with the notion of family. And since this novel is all about cycles we don’t have the characters suddenly breaking free from the predicaments they’ve been struggling to escape from, finally finding the happiness they’ve been dreaming about all book. Instead we have them in much the same place or even a couple steps backwards, with a little bit of hope or improvement, but not much. And yet, as always, they’re still striving for something better.
Like this review? Feel free to comment to discuss further or add me to talk about books or see my other reviews.
February 27, 2021
About halfway through, I was a breath away from stopping, as I was unengaged with the story, the characters, and the writing. (Tooooooo much basketball for one thing--I really, truly, no lie, hate basketball...and football.) I kept reading and the second half of the book was more engaging than the first half. So why did I keep reading?
Mostly because, I wanted to hear what my book group thinks of this novel.
The Portland scenes were fun as a reader to key into.
The situations in which the characters find themselves, well, I ask myself how some people can be so dumb--how does Champ/Shawn, who professes repeatedly that he trust NO ONE, come to give large sums of money to a stranger with an absolutely ridiculous plan/scheme? Champ has put all his thinking and hope into a house. (And would the current owners really have given him a tour?)
Grace's actions are somehow more believable. But then how does Grace get sent to rehab instead of jail??? All her thinking and hope is about her "boys." And she lets them down yet again.
The book group discussion was, as it turned out, spirited and illuminating. Best, most memorable was the comment that it is hard work to be poor. So true.
Mostly because, I wanted to hear what my book group thinks of this novel.
The Portland scenes were fun as a reader to key into.
The situations in which the characters find themselves, well, I ask myself how some people can be so dumb--how does Champ/Shawn, who professes repeatedly that he trust NO ONE, come to give large sums of money to a stranger with an absolutely ridiculous plan/scheme? Champ has put all his thinking and hope into a house. (And would the current owners really have given him a tour?)
Grace's actions are somehow more believable. But then how does Grace get sent to rehab instead of jail??? All her thinking and hope is about her "boys." And she lets them down yet again.
The book group discussion was, as it turned out, spirited and illuminating. Best, most memorable was the comment that it is hard work to be poor. So true.
May 18, 2023
A story made more interesting by the fact that I live in portland in the western suburbs — about as far away from this tale as one can get. Told from alternating point of views - mother and son relay their experiences with college, drugs, low paying jobs, love, prison, deceit, ambition, in other words life, but in the African American experience in one of the whitest cities in America.
September 28, 2020
This book is devastating, beautiful and precious.
January 12, 2023
The characters are so good. I put off finishing this book for so long because I was so invested and dreading how it would end. Heart wrenching.
February 6, 2024
I found this one in Roxanne Gay’s Opinions, and it was heartbreaking and beautiful. The rhythm of the writing is so striking, at times it feels like your eyes are going back and forth on a beat.
April 10, 2024
A new level of crazy good. The writing is so engaging, so powerful. Just magnificent!
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