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Maud Martha
September 2003 marked the 50th anniversary of Maud Martha, the only novel published by esteemed poet Gwendolyn Brooks. Initially entitled "American Family Brown" the work would eventually come to symbolize some of Brooks' most provocative writing. In a novel that captures the essence of Black life, Brooks recognizes the beauty and strength that lies within each of us.
136 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1953
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About the author
Gwendolyn Brooks
124 books562 followersGwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks is the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of Annie Allen and one of the most celebrated Black poets. She also served as consultant in poetry to the Library of Congress—the first Black woman to hold that position. She was the poet laureate for the state of Illinois for over thirty years, a National Women’s Hall of Fame inductee, and the recipient of a lifetime achievement award from the National Endowment for the Arts. Her works include We Are Shining, Bronzeville Boys and Girls, A Street in Bronzeville, In the Mecca, The Bean Eaters, and Maud Martha.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 549 reviews
May 5, 2017
The year 2017 marks the hundredth year after Gwendolyn Brooks' birth, so I felt it appropriate to begin my reading year with her only full length novel Maud Martha. A coming of age tale of Maud Martha Brown Phillips, Brooks short novel speaks of the African American experience in the 1940s.
The Brown family makes their home on Chicago's south side. Facing discrimination on a nearly daily basis, the family is nearly evicted from their home, yet at the last moment are able to call themselves home owners. The parents have respectable jobs and attempt to instill these values in their three children Helen, Maud Martha, and Harry. Unfortunately, the two girls realize from a young age that skin color could inhibit their progress in society.
Maud Martha comes of age and marries Paul Phillips. The couple dreams of a lavish apartment or house with all the fixings but face reality and prejudices and settle for a kitchenette (forerunner to studio) apartment. Paul works as hard as he can to provide for Maud Martha but finds life frustrating at times; he is much lighter skinned than his wife and, while too dark to pass, enjoys entries into society that he would be unable to do so in the company of Maud Martha.
Brooks poetic prose is lovely as always and makes for easy reading. Last year I read for the first time Jacqueline Woodson's poetic novellas. Woodson's work appears to be a descendant of Maud Martha, a slim novel poetic in its voice. Used to Brooks poetry that flows off the pages, she easily transferred this voice to novel form to describe Maud Martha's life. The light nature of the prose made it easy to digest difficult topics as discrimination and the African American culture prior to integration. As a result of Brooks' works, readers have insight into African American society during the 1940s and early 1950s.
Fifteen years after the publication of Maud Martha, Gwendolyn Brooks was named a poet laureate in Illinois. A fixture in the Bronzeville community that she called home, Brooks lived as respected member of Chicago until her death in 2000. Winning the Pulitzer for her poetry collection Annie Allen in 1950, Brooks novel is equally impressive and should be lauded. A window into African American daily life during the 1940s, Maud Martha rates 4.5 beautiful stars.
The Brown family makes their home on Chicago's south side. Facing discrimination on a nearly daily basis, the family is nearly evicted from their home, yet at the last moment are able to call themselves home owners. The parents have respectable jobs and attempt to instill these values in their three children Helen, Maud Martha, and Harry. Unfortunately, the two girls realize from a young age that skin color could inhibit their progress in society.
Maud Martha comes of age and marries Paul Phillips. The couple dreams of a lavish apartment or house with all the fixings but face reality and prejudices and settle for a kitchenette (forerunner to studio) apartment. Paul works as hard as he can to provide for Maud Martha but finds life frustrating at times; he is much lighter skinned than his wife and, while too dark to pass, enjoys entries into society that he would be unable to do so in the company of Maud Martha.
Brooks poetic prose is lovely as always and makes for easy reading. Last year I read for the first time Jacqueline Woodson's poetic novellas. Woodson's work appears to be a descendant of Maud Martha, a slim novel poetic in its voice. Used to Brooks poetry that flows off the pages, she easily transferred this voice to novel form to describe Maud Martha's life. The light nature of the prose made it easy to digest difficult topics as discrimination and the African American culture prior to integration. As a result of Brooks' works, readers have insight into African American society during the 1940s and early 1950s.
Fifteen years after the publication of Maud Martha, Gwendolyn Brooks was named a poet laureate in Illinois. A fixture in the Bronzeville community that she called home, Brooks lived as respected member of Chicago until her death in 2000. Winning the Pulitzer for her poetry collection Annie Allen in 1950, Brooks novel is equally impressive and should be lauded. A window into African American daily life during the 1940s, Maud Martha rates 4.5 beautiful stars.
September 6, 2020
Reading Road Trip 2020
Current location: Illinois
What, what, am I to do with all of this life?
For many readers, this little novel, at 180 pages, would fall comfortably at around a 4 star rating.
It just so happens, I'm quite obsessed with Gwendolyn Brooks's writing, and I can't rate her work (thus far) at anything less than a five.
Ms. Brooks is a professional idol of mine, and it has nothing to do with her gender or her race. It has to do with how she approached writing.
I consider her a part of a trio of “Imagists,” a group of three writers who, as far as I know, had no professional or personal association with one another while they were alive, but, in their deaths, have become for me the Special Three: Gwendolyn Brooks, Ray Bradbury and Shirley Jackson.
Though they were peers and writers, I have never seen an instance where these three individuals have ever been mentioned in the context of one another, but I imagine they are now great friends of each other (oh, and also great friends with me).
Ms. Brooks, Mr. Bradbury and Ms. Jackson were all born within 3 years of each other. Ms. Brooks and Mr. Bradbury went on to become prominent writers in the state of Illinois and Ms. Jackson, a native Californian, went on to be dragged across the country and reluctantly planted in Vermont.
All three had great gusto as writers, professionals who rolled up their sleeves and went to work, getting the job of writing done. (Yes, it is a job). Ms. Brooks was perhaps better known, overall, as a poet, but all three wrote novels that were skimpy on plot, but heavy on images. Thus, my pet name for these three: The Imagists.
What Mr. Bradbury does in The Martian Chronicles and what Ms. Jackson does in We Have Always Lived in the Castle is echoed here by what Ms. Brooks has done in Maud Martha.
It is a book that will not sell you on its dialogue. There's hardly any. It's a book that won't sell you on its powerful plot. There's isn't one.
The story here is one that speaks to your soul. It is stripped down and succinct. Subtle.
Here we have one woman's story, from childhood to about 30. Maud Martha doesn't do a lot of talking, but we learn that, as a girl, she was a “dandelion.” A “yellow jewel for everyday,” a weed, essentially, known for its “everydayness.”
Her husband marries her for her “everydayness,” while making sure she should know she is being honored, what with her being so unattractive and plain. He, apparently, is not accountable in anyway: physically, professionally, or personally. Maud should remain grateful and uncomplaining, always, knowing that “a marriage [is] made up of Sunday papers and shoeless feet, baking powder biscuits, baby baths, matinees, laundrymen, and potato plants in the kitchen window.”
Maud wonders if a person's whole life is “[dedicated] to this search for something to lean upon,” and her existence is disappointing enough to break her spirit, but she learns to “love moments. To love moments for themselves.”
This is a novel written by a poet. And you know it.
Current location: Illinois
What, what, am I to do with all of this life?
For many readers, this little novel, at 180 pages, would fall comfortably at around a 4 star rating.
It just so happens, I'm quite obsessed with Gwendolyn Brooks's writing, and I can't rate her work (thus far) at anything less than a five.
Ms. Brooks is a professional idol of mine, and it has nothing to do with her gender or her race. It has to do with how she approached writing.
I consider her a part of a trio of “Imagists,” a group of three writers who, as far as I know, had no professional or personal association with one another while they were alive, but, in their deaths, have become for me the Special Three: Gwendolyn Brooks, Ray Bradbury and Shirley Jackson.
Though they were peers and writers, I have never seen an instance where these three individuals have ever been mentioned in the context of one another, but I imagine they are now great friends of each other (oh, and also great friends with me).
Ms. Brooks, Mr. Bradbury and Ms. Jackson were all born within 3 years of each other. Ms. Brooks and Mr. Bradbury went on to become prominent writers in the state of Illinois and Ms. Jackson, a native Californian, went on to be dragged across the country and reluctantly planted in Vermont.
All three had great gusto as writers, professionals who rolled up their sleeves and went to work, getting the job of writing done. (Yes, it is a job). Ms. Brooks was perhaps better known, overall, as a poet, but all three wrote novels that were skimpy on plot, but heavy on images. Thus, my pet name for these three: The Imagists.
What Mr. Bradbury does in The Martian Chronicles and what Ms. Jackson does in We Have Always Lived in the Castle is echoed here by what Ms. Brooks has done in Maud Martha.
It is a book that will not sell you on its dialogue. There's hardly any. It's a book that won't sell you on its powerful plot. There's isn't one.
The story here is one that speaks to your soul. It is stripped down and succinct. Subtle.
Here we have one woman's story, from childhood to about 30. Maud Martha doesn't do a lot of talking, but we learn that, as a girl, she was a “dandelion.” A “yellow jewel for everyday,” a weed, essentially, known for its “everydayness.”
Her husband marries her for her “everydayness,” while making sure she should know she is being honored, what with her being so unattractive and plain. He, apparently, is not accountable in anyway: physically, professionally, or personally. Maud should remain grateful and uncomplaining, always, knowing that “a marriage [is] made up of Sunday papers and shoeless feet, baking powder biscuits, baby baths, matinees, laundrymen, and potato plants in the kitchen window.”
Maud wonders if a person's whole life is “[dedicated] to this search for something to lean upon,” and her existence is disappointing enough to break her spirit, but she learns to “love moments. To love moments for themselves.”
This is a novel written by a poet. And you know it.
April 6, 2022
Published in 1953, this is the only novel by Gwendolyn Brooks, the first black woman to win the poetry Pulitzer, it has taken some time for it to be recognised as the captivating gem that it is. It is about to be published for the first time in Britain, having just read this I am astonished and cannot believe it has taken so long. This is a moving and understated poetic portrayal of a ordinary black woman's life in the 1940s and 1950s, elevated to the extraordinary by Brooks, of the not very pretty Maud Martha Brown in Chicago, through the artistic pictures formed through the short, astute, exquisite vignettes of her life from childhood, teenage years, a wife and mother up to the point of her second pregnancy. There are insightful observations of her relationship with her much prettier sister, and with her lighter skinned husband, Paul, who struggles to accept her darker skin tones.
There is an introduction in this edition by Margo Jefferson who rightly underlines Brooks inclusion of autobiographical elements in the novella as she probes Maud Martha's thoughts, feelings, and experiences, yet not speaking for her. There is the desire to be cherished in what can be a harsh world with its everyday grim realities of racism for a black American working class woman, finding a dignity, resilience and freedom through the power of her imagination, through which she able to claim her rights and freedoms. Jefferson goes on to ask the reader, like Maud Martha does, what will you do with this life? There is the beauty of a dandelion, the shortfalls in their tiny Kitchenette home that must be endured, the birth of her daughter, Paulette, the pain, anger and hurt of a visit with Paulette, to a white Santa in a department store, and other everyday activities of life.
This is a short, philosophical and inspiring novel that makes a powerful and unforgettable impact, with the artful brevity, simplicity and beauty of the prose, capturing the many roles played by Maud Martha throughout her life, providing a valuable history of a black woman in this historical period. It is the poetic language and remarkable resilience of Maud Martha in the face of life's harsh challenges that makes this remarkable book sing, her refusal to be defined and imprisoned by them, finding the strength and inner resources to shape and claim the inner freedom to be who she is. A stellar read that I recommend highly. Many thanks to the publisher for an ARC.
There is an introduction in this edition by Margo Jefferson who rightly underlines Brooks inclusion of autobiographical elements in the novella as she probes Maud Martha's thoughts, feelings, and experiences, yet not speaking for her. There is the desire to be cherished in what can be a harsh world with its everyday grim realities of racism for a black American working class woman, finding a dignity, resilience and freedom through the power of her imagination, through which she able to claim her rights and freedoms. Jefferson goes on to ask the reader, like Maud Martha does, what will you do with this life? There is the beauty of a dandelion, the shortfalls in their tiny Kitchenette home that must be endured, the birth of her daughter, Paulette, the pain, anger and hurt of a visit with Paulette, to a white Santa in a department store, and other everyday activities of life.
This is a short, philosophical and inspiring novel that makes a powerful and unforgettable impact, with the artful brevity, simplicity and beauty of the prose, capturing the many roles played by Maud Martha throughout her life, providing a valuable history of a black woman in this historical period. It is the poetic language and remarkable resilience of Maud Martha in the face of life's harsh challenges that makes this remarkable book sing, her refusal to be defined and imprisoned by them, finding the strength and inner resources to shape and claim the inner freedom to be who she is. A stellar read that I recommend highly. Many thanks to the publisher for an ARC.
December 18, 2020
“Gwendolyn Brooks is known as a great poet. Poet Laureate of Illinois from 1968 until her death in 2000, she won the Pulitzer Prize for "Annie Allen" in 1950. She was the first African-American to win the prize and continued to collect accolades for her poetry until she died.”
A Goodreads friend had listed this as a book she wanted to read; I put this on my TBR list. Once again, what I would be doing without Goodreads?
It turns out that on the back cover of the book (dustjacket) is a quote from Ann Petry who wrote “The Street”. “The Street” was the first novel by a black woman that sold more than a million copies. It was set in New York City in the 1940s. Ms. Petry’s quote is:
• “I read it with absolute delight from start to finish, delight in the beautiful structure of the book, delight in the way Maud Martha come alive as a person caught up in timeless elemental situations.”
I read “The Street” as part of a book club. The others in the book club liked that book very much. I would say this book is every bit as good as “The Street” was.
Please consider Maud Martha (published in 1953) for your TBR list.
The novel, actually a novella (177 pages), is about Maud Martha when she was growing up in her house as a child in Bronzeville, a district in Chicago, and then when she was married. Most of it is when she is an adult and married to Paul. She has a baby, Paulette. Time period…I believe 1940s, 1950s.
The structure of the book, I think, contributed to the sparing beauty of it. It consisted of 34 chapters, most chapters 2 or 3 pages long. It progressed from when she was a child to when she was a young mother/wife and at the end of the book pregnant with her second baby.
Here is one smidgen of Brook’s writing to give you a flavor for her prose. It comes from a chapter, The Kitchenette. The kitchenette is an apartment in a run-down building consisting of a kitchen and a bedroom — a bathroom had to be shared with four other families. Maud Martha dreamed of having her own furniture, but the Owner did not allow it because the tenants moved too often. It didn’t matter anyways…she and her husband couldn’t afford to buy their own furniture.
• “And these things—roaches, and having to be satisfied with the place as it was—were not the only annoyances that had to be reckoned with. She was becoming aware of an oddness in color and sound and smell of the kitchenette building. The color was gray, and the smell and sound had taken on a suggestion of the properties of color, and impressed one as gray, too. The sobbings, the frustrations, the small hates, the large and ugly hates, the little pushing-through love, the boredom, that came to her from behind these walls…via speech and scream and sigh—all these were gray. And the smells of various types of sweat, and of bathing and bodily functions (the bathroom was always in use, someone was always in the bathroom) and of fresh or stale love-making, which rushed in thick fumes to your nostrils as you walked down the hall, or down the stairs—these were gray. There was a whole of grayness here.”
Then there’s this: Maud Martha is in a department store with her little girl Paulette and it is right before Christmas and there is a department store Santa (white) and the last thing he wants is for a little colored girl to sit on his lap…
— Suddenly she was shy.
— Maud Martha smiled, gave her a tiny shove, spoke as much to Santa Claus as to her daughter.
— “Go on. There he is. You’ve wanted to talk to him all this time. Tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”
— “No.”
— Another smile, another shove, with some impatience, with some severity in it. And Paulette was off.
— “Hello!”
— Santa Claus rubbed his palms together and looked vaguely out across the Toy Department.
— He was unable to see either mother or child.
— “I want,” said Paulette, “a wagon, a doll, a big ball, a bear and a triangle with a horn.”
— “Mister,” said Maud Martha, “my little girl is talking to you.”
— Santa Claus’s neck turned with hard slowness, carrying his unwilling face with it.
— “Mister,” said Maud Martha.
— “And what—do you want for Christmas.” No question mark at the end.
— “I want a wagon, a doll, a big ball, a bear and a triangle with a horn.”
— Silence. Then, “Oh.” Then, “um-hm.”
— Santa Claus has taken care of Paulette.
— “And some candy and some nuts and a seesaw and a bow and arrow.”
— “Come on, baby.”
— “But I’m not through, Mama.”
— “Santa Claus is though, hon.”
— Outside, there was the wonderful snow, high and heavy, crusted with blue twinkles. The air was quiet.
— “Certainly is a nice night,” confided Mama.
— “Why didn’t Santa Claus like me?”
— “Baby, of course he liked you.”
— “He didn’t like me. Why didn’t he like me?”
— “It maybe seemed that way to you. He has a lot on his mind, of course.”
— “He liked the other children. He smiled at them and shook their hands.”
— “He maybe got tired of smiling. Sometimes even I get—”
— “He didn’t look at me, he didn’t shake MY hand.”
— Helen (Jim: Maud Martha’s sister who doesn’t take crap from nobody), she thought, would not have twitched, back there. Would not have yearned to jerk trimming scissors from purse and jab jab jab that evading eye…
This is Gwendolyn Brooks’s only work of fiction; she had written and received awards for two books of poetry prior to this novella.
Miscellany:
• 2012: Honored on a United States' postage stamp.[]
• School named after her: 2002: Gwendolyn Brooks Middle School, Oak Park, Illinois
• Awards (just some of them): 1946, Guggenheim Fellow in Poetry; 1968, appointed Poet Laureate of Illinois; 1985, selected as the Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress, an honorary one-year term, known as the Poet Laureate of the United States; 1995, presented with the National Medal of Arts; 1997, awarded the Order of Lincoln, the highest honor granted by the State of Illinois.
Reviews:
• https://www.npr.org/templates/story/s...
• https://lithub.com/gwendolyn-brooks-m...
• https://webauthoringproject.wordpress...
A Goodreads friend had listed this as a book she wanted to read; I put this on my TBR list. Once again, what I would be doing without Goodreads?
It turns out that on the back cover of the book (dustjacket) is a quote from Ann Petry who wrote “The Street”. “The Street” was the first novel by a black woman that sold more than a million copies. It was set in New York City in the 1940s. Ms. Petry’s quote is:
• “I read it with absolute delight from start to finish, delight in the beautiful structure of the book, delight in the way Maud Martha come alive as a person caught up in timeless elemental situations.”
I read “The Street” as part of a book club. The others in the book club liked that book very much. I would say this book is every bit as good as “The Street” was.
Please consider Maud Martha (published in 1953) for your TBR list.
The novel, actually a novella (177 pages), is about Maud Martha when she was growing up in her house as a child in Bronzeville, a district in Chicago, and then when she was married. Most of it is when she is an adult and married to Paul. She has a baby, Paulette. Time period…I believe 1940s, 1950s.
The structure of the book, I think, contributed to the sparing beauty of it. It consisted of 34 chapters, most chapters 2 or 3 pages long. It progressed from when she was a child to when she was a young mother/wife and at the end of the book pregnant with her second baby.
Here is one smidgen of Brook’s writing to give you a flavor for her prose. It comes from a chapter, The Kitchenette. The kitchenette is an apartment in a run-down building consisting of a kitchen and a bedroom — a bathroom had to be shared with four other families. Maud Martha dreamed of having her own furniture, but the Owner did not allow it because the tenants moved too often. It didn’t matter anyways…she and her husband couldn’t afford to buy their own furniture.
• “And these things—roaches, and having to be satisfied with the place as it was—were not the only annoyances that had to be reckoned with. She was becoming aware of an oddness in color and sound and smell of the kitchenette building. The color was gray, and the smell and sound had taken on a suggestion of the properties of color, and impressed one as gray, too. The sobbings, the frustrations, the small hates, the large and ugly hates, the little pushing-through love, the boredom, that came to her from behind these walls…via speech and scream and sigh—all these were gray. And the smells of various types of sweat, and of bathing and bodily functions (the bathroom was always in use, someone was always in the bathroom) and of fresh or stale love-making, which rushed in thick fumes to your nostrils as you walked down the hall, or down the stairs—these were gray. There was a whole of grayness here.”
Then there’s this: Maud Martha is in a department store with her little girl Paulette and it is right before Christmas and there is a department store Santa (white) and the last thing he wants is for a little colored girl to sit on his lap…
— Suddenly she was shy.
— Maud Martha smiled, gave her a tiny shove, spoke as much to Santa Claus as to her daughter.
— “Go on. There he is. You’ve wanted to talk to him all this time. Tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”
— “No.”
— Another smile, another shove, with some impatience, with some severity in it. And Paulette was off.
— “Hello!”
— Santa Claus rubbed his palms together and looked vaguely out across the Toy Department.
— He was unable to see either mother or child.
— “I want,” said Paulette, “a wagon, a doll, a big ball, a bear and a triangle with a horn.”
— “Mister,” said Maud Martha, “my little girl is talking to you.”
— Santa Claus’s neck turned with hard slowness, carrying his unwilling face with it.
— “Mister,” said Maud Martha.
— “And what—do you want for Christmas.” No question mark at the end.
— “I want a wagon, a doll, a big ball, a bear and a triangle with a horn.”
— Silence. Then, “Oh.” Then, “um-hm.”
— Santa Claus has taken care of Paulette.
— “And some candy and some nuts and a seesaw and a bow and arrow.”
— “Come on, baby.”
— “But I’m not through, Mama.”
— “Santa Claus is though, hon.”
— Outside, there was the wonderful snow, high and heavy, crusted with blue twinkles. The air was quiet.
— “Certainly is a nice night,” confided Mama.
— “Why didn’t Santa Claus like me?”
— “Baby, of course he liked you.”
— “He didn’t like me. Why didn’t he like me?”
— “It maybe seemed that way to you. He has a lot on his mind, of course.”
— “He liked the other children. He smiled at them and shook their hands.”
— “He maybe got tired of smiling. Sometimes even I get—”
— “He didn’t look at me, he didn’t shake MY hand.”
— Helen (Jim: Maud Martha’s sister who doesn’t take crap from nobody), she thought, would not have twitched, back there. Would not have yearned to jerk trimming scissors from purse and jab jab jab that evading eye…
This is Gwendolyn Brooks’s only work of fiction; she had written and received awards for two books of poetry prior to this novella.
Miscellany:
• 2012: Honored on a United States' postage stamp.[]
• School named after her: 2002: Gwendolyn Brooks Middle School, Oak Park, Illinois
• Awards (just some of them): 1946, Guggenheim Fellow in Poetry; 1968, appointed Poet Laureate of Illinois; 1985, selected as the Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress, an honorary one-year term, known as the Poet Laureate of the United States; 1995, presented with the National Medal of Arts; 1997, awarded the Order of Lincoln, the highest honor granted by the State of Illinois.
Reviews:
• https://www.npr.org/templates/story/s...
• https://lithub.com/gwendolyn-brooks-m...
• https://webauthoringproject.wordpress...
April 25, 2022
Activist and Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, Gwendolyn Brooks produced only one novel Maud Martha first published in 1953. It grew out of a projected poetry cycle American Family Brown that would chronicle the struggles of a very ordinary Black family, but that proposal was rejected by Brooks’s publishers and as a compromise she transformed her poetry into prose, although her prose retains the intensity, lyricism and precision of a poem. It’s a deceptively simple concept, a series of vignettes or “tiny” stories featuring a working-class, Black woman, Maud Martha Brown who, like Brooks, was born in 1917, and after the Great Migration grew up on Chicago’s South Side, in the predominantly Black area of Bronzeville.
Despite critical acclaim and a word-of-mouth, cult following Brooks’s novel’s been out of print in America since the 1990s and never published in Britain, at least until now - it seems fitting that this new edition comes from publisher Faber & Faber, who have such a long association with poets and poetry. This edition’s introduced by writer and critic Margo Jefferson who sums it up in two words, “Quietly extraordinary.” And she’s so right, it’s an exquisite piece of writing, with a wonderful, luminous, almost painterly quality. Yet it’s also a work that’s firmly grounded in reality, that doesn’t shy away from the uglier or more painful aspects of existence for a woman like Maud Martha in a racist, patriarchal America.
Brooks follows Maud Martha from her childhood in the 1920s through her marriage, becoming a mother and surviving WW2. Maud Martha has a very modest life, a small, shabby, roach-infested apartment, not much money. She’s "dark-skinned" with a husband who has a weakness for "lighter" women, and she’s not happy with her looks. But she loves to read and she has a powerful imagination, an eye for detail and an ability to see beauty or humour in small, overlooked things. Brooks has talked about the autobiographical elements of her narrative but this seems more like a vision of the path not taken, what her life might have been like if she hadn’t developed her career as a writer. But it’s not a bitter, rueful tale, Maud Martha’s the unsung heroine, she’s special: in her sensibility, her strength, her ability to negotiate the harsher realities of white society, a world where even a visit to a department-store Santa Claus is a fraught experience for a Black mother and child. In some ways too this is an oblique exploration of creativity, the creativity that emerges in Maud Martha’s unusual perspectives on her surroundings, the striking imagery she conjures from the seemingly-inconsequential. I first read this last year and thought it was brilliant, after reading it again I still think so, and it’s great to know that it will be once more freely circulating for others to discover Brooks’s remarkable heroine and her memorable style.
Thanks to Netgalley UK and publisher Faber & Faber for an ARC
Despite critical acclaim and a word-of-mouth, cult following Brooks’s novel’s been out of print in America since the 1990s and never published in Britain, at least until now - it seems fitting that this new edition comes from publisher Faber & Faber, who have such a long association with poets and poetry. This edition’s introduced by writer and critic Margo Jefferson who sums it up in two words, “Quietly extraordinary.” And she’s so right, it’s an exquisite piece of writing, with a wonderful, luminous, almost painterly quality. Yet it’s also a work that’s firmly grounded in reality, that doesn’t shy away from the uglier or more painful aspects of existence for a woman like Maud Martha in a racist, patriarchal America.
Brooks follows Maud Martha from her childhood in the 1920s through her marriage, becoming a mother and surviving WW2. Maud Martha has a very modest life, a small, shabby, roach-infested apartment, not much money. She’s "dark-skinned" with a husband who has a weakness for "lighter" women, and she’s not happy with her looks. But she loves to read and she has a powerful imagination, an eye for detail and an ability to see beauty or humour in small, overlooked things. Brooks has talked about the autobiographical elements of her narrative but this seems more like a vision of the path not taken, what her life might have been like if she hadn’t developed her career as a writer. But it’s not a bitter, rueful tale, Maud Martha’s the unsung heroine, she’s special: in her sensibility, her strength, her ability to negotiate the harsher realities of white society, a world where even a visit to a department-store Santa Claus is a fraught experience for a Black mother and child. In some ways too this is an oblique exploration of creativity, the creativity that emerges in Maud Martha’s unusual perspectives on her surroundings, the striking imagery she conjures from the seemingly-inconsequential. I first read this last year and thought it was brilliant, after reading it again I still think so, and it’s great to know that it will be once more freely circulating for others to discover Brooks’s remarkable heroine and her memorable style.
Thanks to Netgalley UK and publisher Faber & Faber for an ARC
December 14, 2020
“…she was learning to love moments. To love moments for themselves,” Gwendolyn Brooks’s evocative, poetic novel’s composed of a series of moments, vignettes from the life and imaginings of an African-American woman, Maud Martha Brown from her pre-WW2 childhood in Chicago, through to her marriage and motherhood. Caught between the possibilities she glimpses in books and a vein of gritty realism, Maud Martha shares her thoughts about her family, school, dating, neighbours and her fantasies of her future, like going to New York where people eat “foolish food,” and dine on, “little diamond-shaped cheeses that Paprika had but breathed on.” But Maud Martha’s path takes her in another direction, she chooses a husband who’s uncomfortable with her dark complexion; she does her best to raise their daughter in a tiny, roach-infested apartment, in a city where even a department-store Santa Claus refuses to look at a black child who comes his way. Martha's apartment building's filled with,
“The sobbings, the frustrations, the small hates, the large and ugly hates, the little pushing-through love, the boredom, that came to her from behind those walls (some of them beaver-board) via speech and scream and sigh – all these were gray.”
Yet Maud Martha’s undefeated, she focuses on each and every small victory or pleasure like sparing a mouse caught in a trap, quitting a job where she’s treated like a child. She makes time for “self-solace” in her local beauty shop and strives to concentrate on her positive memories,
“…she thought of her life. Decent childhood, happy Christmases; some shreds of romance, a marriage, pregnancy and the giving birth, her growing child, her experiments in sewing, her books, her conversations with her friends and enemies.”
Post-War America brings streets crowded with traumatised veterans desperately seeking work, the papers feature lynchings in Georgia and Missisippi, Maud Martha understands what the world is and what it can be, but still she drinks in the sunshine and keeps marching forward. I thought this was a glorious book with the flavour of a prose poem, the tone’s exuberant and melancholy by turns, the structure’s tight and effective, it’s overflowing with memorable passages and images. And Maud Martha is a brilliant creation, her voice, her insights, her low-key philosophy of life all are superbly, meticulously represented.
“The sobbings, the frustrations, the small hates, the large and ugly hates, the little pushing-through love, the boredom, that came to her from behind those walls (some of them beaver-board) via speech and scream and sigh – all these were gray.”
Yet Maud Martha’s undefeated, she focuses on each and every small victory or pleasure like sparing a mouse caught in a trap, quitting a job where she’s treated like a child. She makes time for “self-solace” in her local beauty shop and strives to concentrate on her positive memories,
“…she thought of her life. Decent childhood, happy Christmases; some shreds of romance, a marriage, pregnancy and the giving birth, her growing child, her experiments in sewing, her books, her conversations with her friends and enemies.”
Post-War America brings streets crowded with traumatised veterans desperately seeking work, the papers feature lynchings in Georgia and Missisippi, Maud Martha understands what the world is and what it can be, but still she drinks in the sunshine and keeps marching forward. I thought this was a glorious book with the flavour of a prose poem, the tone’s exuberant and melancholy by turns, the structure’s tight and effective, it’s overflowing with memorable passages and images. And Maud Martha is a brilliant creation, her voice, her insights, her low-key philosophy of life all are superbly, meticulously represented.
July 29, 2017
Name: Maud Martha Brown
Year of birth: 1917
Address: Chicago, a tiny apartment. Gwendolyn Brooks describes a place like that in her poem ‘Kitchenette Building’:
'But could a dream sent up through onion fumes
Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes
And yesterday's garbage ripening in the hall,
Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms'
Family: Working class. Poor. Struggling. Loving. Mum, dad, one brother, one sister. Annoyingly beautiful sister, to be exact: 'It’s funny how some people are just charming, just pretty, and others, born of the same parents, are just not.'
Ethnic background: African American.
Skin colour: 'The color of cocoa straight.' According to Maud Martha, much too dark.
Dream: New York and to be cherished.
Secret: A recipe for the best cocoa in the family.
State Street, Chicago, 1917. [Image source.]
Let's face it, probably this fact file doesn't urge you to drop everything and run desperately to the nearest library to get a copy of 'Maud Martha' (1953) by Gwendolyn Brooks. The girl seems a bit plain and lackluster at first sight, doesn’t she? Only tentatively. Just wait and see.
Who doesn’t love Gwendolyn Brooks? - asks Sandra Jackson-Opoku. According to her, 'only those who’ve never read her'. Well, I must confess humbly that I've left the group of Brooks' non-readers only recently.
My interest in Gwendolyn Brooks germinated a few days ago thanks to my wonderful Goodreads friend, Julie. It was watered and nourished with Julie's tears of affection and Brooks' poems. It bloomed while I was reading 'Maud Martha', the one and only novel by this author. I am very grateful to Julie, as she inspired me to ‘meet’ a truly remarkable writer.
Gwendolyn Brooks. [Image source.]
'Maud Martha' is an ethnic female bildungsroman, a short autobiography of a young woman, who seems to be very similar to the author, by the way. She was even born in the same year. The novel consists of thirty-four vignettes, often resembling prose poems. Each of them depicts one year in the life of Maud Martha. Each of them is like a piece of shimmering amber with a scrap of life preserved inside for billions of years to come. It can be an episode, a thought, an observation, a conversation, a memory. It's always a moment caught in the act. Maud Martha seems to follow the advice of Omar Khayyám, who she possibly hasn't heard of: 'Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.'
We meet Maud Martha Brown when she is a little girl and we say goodbye to her when she is expecting her second child. The year must be 1945, as her brother has just returned from the war. Gwendolyn Brooks presents a multi-dimensional, richly rendered portrait of Maud Martha: we see her at different stages of life, in various roles, as a granddaughter, a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, a fiancée, a wife and a mother.
We witness important events in Maud Martha's life, like her granny’s death or giving birth to her daughter, and special occasions like Christmas or Easter, but we also accompany her during more prosaic activities, for instance gutting a chicken or bargaining at a hat shop. And sometimes she amazes us with her search for answers to unsettling philosophical questions.
[Image source.]
I hope the ostensible plainness of Martha Maud’s autobiography in fragments won't discourage more refined readers. According to David Littlejohn, 'It is a powerful, beautiful dagger of a book, as generous as it can possibly be. It teaches more, more quickly, more lastingly, than a thousand pages of protest.' A very special kind of protest, apparently. Although Maud Martha confronts with nastiness and unfairness because of her skin colour on daily basis, there is no trace of hatred in her. Actually, once she feels it: when her daughter, Paulette, has been ignored by Santa Claus at a department store. Then it was a 'tough cough-up of rage'.
Racism is one of the problems Brooks deals with in 'Maud Martha' and she gives account of it in a compelling way. There is no physical violence in the book. Sometimes not even one word is said, like in the unforgettable scene at the cinema. Sometimes it is just one word, used accidentally (oh, really?) by a hairdresser. A brief comment by a shop-assistant. Although the term 'racism' is not used even once, it hangs in the air like a menacing cloud.
The Silent Protest Parade, July 28, 1917.[Image source.]
If you are interested in history, especially her-story, you will be pleased with Brooks’ novel as it is full of tasty little details of everyday life: food, clothes, family traditions, the situation of women, language, marriage, parenting and many more. Despite these concrete particulars, ’Maud Marta’ is a timeless narrative about the strength of women, unjustice, racism, prejudices, feeling like a puzzle piece which doesn’t really fit. A really heartwarming story, delicately brushed with melancholy and a sardonic sense of humour.
Gwendolyn Brooks’ protagonist was born one hundred years ago but I am sure if you look around, you will notice some Maud Marthas, who want to convey themselves as a gift to others: 'What she wanted was to donate to the world a good Maud Martha. That was the offering, the bit of art, that could not come from any other. She would polish and hone that.' You might be one of Maud Marthas, actually.
The first thing that struck me in Brooks' novel was the simplicity and candor of the language. Please, don’t let it deceive you, though. In one of her interviews the author explains the unpretentiousness of her words: 'I don't want to say that these poems have to be simple, but I want to clarify my language. I want these poems to be free. I want them to be direct without sacrificing the kinds of music, the picturemaking I've always been interested in.' The vignettes in 'Maud Martha' are direct and resemble pictures indeed, some of them made me think of film scenes.
African Americans in 1940's. [Image source.]
According to the author, 'Maud Martha was born in 1917. She is still alive today.' If you happen to know her, please give her a bunch of dandelions. They are her favourite flowers: 'She liked their demure prettiness second to their everydayness; for in that latter quality she thought she saw a picture of herself, and it was comforting to find that what was common could also be a flower.'
If you are lucky, Maud Martha might even give you her secret recipe for the best cocoa in the family.
[Image source.]
Year of birth: 1917
Address: Chicago, a tiny apartment. Gwendolyn Brooks describes a place like that in her poem ‘Kitchenette Building’:
'But could a dream sent up through onion fumes
Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes
And yesterday's garbage ripening in the hall,
Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms'
Family: Working class. Poor. Struggling. Loving. Mum, dad, one brother, one sister. Annoyingly beautiful sister, to be exact: 'It’s funny how some people are just charming, just pretty, and others, born of the same parents, are just not.'
Ethnic background: African American.
Skin colour: 'The color of cocoa straight.' According to Maud Martha, much too dark.
Dream: New York and to be cherished.
Secret: A recipe for the best cocoa in the family.
State Street, Chicago, 1917. [Image source.]
Let's face it, probably this fact file doesn't urge you to drop everything and run desperately to the nearest library to get a copy of 'Maud Martha' (1953) by Gwendolyn Brooks. The girl seems a bit plain and lackluster at first sight, doesn’t she? Only tentatively. Just wait and see.
Who doesn’t love Gwendolyn Brooks? - asks Sandra Jackson-Opoku. According to her, 'only those who’ve never read her'. Well, I must confess humbly that I've left the group of Brooks' non-readers only recently.
My interest in Gwendolyn Brooks germinated a few days ago thanks to my wonderful Goodreads friend, Julie. It was watered and nourished with Julie's tears of affection and Brooks' poems. It bloomed while I was reading 'Maud Martha', the one and only novel by this author. I am very grateful to Julie, as she inspired me to ‘meet’ a truly remarkable writer.
Gwendolyn Brooks. [Image source.]
'Maud Martha' is an ethnic female bildungsroman, a short autobiography of a young woman, who seems to be very similar to the author, by the way. She was even born in the same year. The novel consists of thirty-four vignettes, often resembling prose poems. Each of them depicts one year in the life of Maud Martha. Each of them is like a piece of shimmering amber with a scrap of life preserved inside for billions of years to come. It can be an episode, a thought, an observation, a conversation, a memory. It's always a moment caught in the act. Maud Martha seems to follow the advice of Omar Khayyám, who she possibly hasn't heard of: 'Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.'
We meet Maud Martha Brown when she is a little girl and we say goodbye to her when she is expecting her second child. The year must be 1945, as her brother has just returned from the war. Gwendolyn Brooks presents a multi-dimensional, richly rendered portrait of Maud Martha: we see her at different stages of life, in various roles, as a granddaughter, a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, a fiancée, a wife and a mother.
We witness important events in Maud Martha's life, like her granny’s death or giving birth to her daughter, and special occasions like Christmas or Easter, but we also accompany her during more prosaic activities, for instance gutting a chicken or bargaining at a hat shop. And sometimes she amazes us with her search for answers to unsettling philosophical questions.
[Image source.]
I hope the ostensible plainness of Martha Maud’s autobiography in fragments won't discourage more refined readers. According to David Littlejohn, 'It is a powerful, beautiful dagger of a book, as generous as it can possibly be. It teaches more, more quickly, more lastingly, than a thousand pages of protest.' A very special kind of protest, apparently. Although Maud Martha confronts with nastiness and unfairness because of her skin colour on daily basis, there is no trace of hatred in her. Actually, once she feels it: when her daughter, Paulette, has been ignored by Santa Claus at a department store. Then it was a 'tough cough-up of rage'.
Racism is one of the problems Brooks deals with in 'Maud Martha' and she gives account of it in a compelling way. There is no physical violence in the book. Sometimes not even one word is said, like in the unforgettable scene at the cinema. Sometimes it is just one word, used accidentally (oh, really?) by a hairdresser. A brief comment by a shop-assistant. Although the term 'racism' is not used even once, it hangs in the air like a menacing cloud.
The Silent Protest Parade, July 28, 1917.[Image source.]
If you are interested in history, especially her-story, you will be pleased with Brooks’ novel as it is full of tasty little details of everyday life: food, clothes, family traditions, the situation of women, language, marriage, parenting and many more. Despite these concrete particulars, ’Maud Marta’ is a timeless narrative about the strength of women, unjustice, racism, prejudices, feeling like a puzzle piece which doesn’t really fit. A really heartwarming story, delicately brushed with melancholy and a sardonic sense of humour.
Gwendolyn Brooks’ protagonist was born one hundred years ago but I am sure if you look around, you will notice some Maud Marthas, who want to convey themselves as a gift to others: 'What she wanted was to donate to the world a good Maud Martha. That was the offering, the bit of art, that could not come from any other. She would polish and hone that.' You might be one of Maud Marthas, actually.
The first thing that struck me in Brooks' novel was the simplicity and candor of the language. Please, don’t let it deceive you, though. In one of her interviews the author explains the unpretentiousness of her words: 'I don't want to say that these poems have to be simple, but I want to clarify my language. I want these poems to be free. I want them to be direct without sacrificing the kinds of music, the picturemaking I've always been interested in.' The vignettes in 'Maud Martha' are direct and resemble pictures indeed, some of them made me think of film scenes.
African Americans in 1940's. [Image source.]
According to the author, 'Maud Martha was born in 1917. She is still alive today.' If you happen to know her, please give her a bunch of dandelions. They are her favourite flowers: 'She liked their demure prettiness second to their everydayness; for in that latter quality she thought she saw a picture of herself, and it was comforting to find that what was common could also be a flower.'
If you are lucky, Maud Martha might even give you her secret recipe for the best cocoa in the family.
[Image source.]
July 17, 2017
I haven't read any of Gwendolyn Brooks poetry (yet), just this novel, the only one she wrote, but it reads like poetic prose. Beautifully written, flowing lyrical prose that make the pages fly by. It's a coming of age story, most assuredly inspired by Brooks life in Chicago's south side. 180 pages featuring short vignettes that paint a picture of what it was like growing up in the black neighborhoods of early 20th century Chicago. A 5 star read for me.
March 10, 2016
I think Maud Martha would approve of this edition of her book, which is spaciously printed in an elegant font on thick, smooth paper. One of the most touching things about her is her love of beauty and fineness and pleasantness in things. After her marriage, she misses the seasonal rituals of her family home:
And birthdays, with their pink and white cakes and candles, strawberry ice cream, and presents wrapped up carefully and tied with wide ribbons: whereas here was this man, who never considered giving his own mother a birthday bouquet, and dropped into his wife's lap a birthday box of drugstore candy (when he thought of it) wrapped in the drugstore green
It's the little sugar in the bowl that makes life sweet, not lavish spending, that she wants. Maud Martha reminds us that dandelions are embellishment, can give pleasure. She wants to be cherished, like her sister Helen, whose name, of course, suggests someone who inspires extravagant tribute. Helen has grace, but in Maud Martha's eyes, little else to justify the way she is seemingly adored over herself. The author takes a kind of revenge:
“You'll never get a boy friend,” said Helen, fluffing on her Golden Peacock powder, “if you don't stop reading those books”
If there's no love for reading girls (because we're dangerous), then the world is wrong, we know absolutely, cuddling our books for comfort.
What she wanted was to donate to the world a good Maud Martha. That was the offering, the bit of art, that could not come from any other. She would polish and hone that.
I liked her first beau, 'decorated inside and out', not so much the second who, longing for beauty and elevation like Maud Martha, fails to find any hope of it in black life. Years after Maud Martha has married someone else, he meets her at a university where they're watching a young black writer speak, and she witnesses him fawning over white friends, shrugging her off as she crimps his style. It's his problem, but another part of it is hers, like when she envies a lighter-skinned woman, 'Gold Spangles' who dances with her husband, Paul.
'It's my color' she thinks, that makes Paul mad, 'what I am inside, what is really me, he likes okay. But he keeps looking at my color, which is like a wall. He has to jump over it in order to meet and touch what I've got for him. He has to jump up high in order to see it. He gets awful tired of all that jumping.'
Poor housing blights Maud Martha and Paul; they live in a kitchenette and have to share a bathroom. Maud Martha's own story tells so much on how it is in so few words, but when she describes her neighbours in 'kitchenette folks', the text's density multiplies as more windows are deftly flung open on lives rubbing along, more or less discontentedly. Hope shines in the romance of 'the Whitestripes' who adore each other, but the hope that isn't for you perhaps hurts more; Paul admonishes her for admiring the couple: 'you can stop mooning. I'll never be a 'Coopie' Whitestripe.' Maud Martha agrees.
The cruelty, meanness, and racism of white folks occasionally pokes into Maud Martha's life, precipitating more horizontal violence (her conversation with the beautician who tells Maud Martha she didn't pull up the white saleswoman on her offensive language because she thinks they, black folks, should be less sensitive) and hard work for Maud Martha (reassuring her daughter that Santa loves her and promising her gifts to prove it after a constumed Santa in a toy store is rude and perfunctory to her). Brooks shows that black people always have to do the heavy lifting of race. Perhaps most incisive is the episode 'At the Burns-Coopers' where Maud Martha takes on work as a 'housemaid' and after one day of listening to the Mrs go on about her expensive pleasures knows she won't come back, despite the good wages:
Shall I mention, considered Maud Martha, my own social triumphs, my own education, my travels to Gary and Milwaukee and Columbus, Ohio? Shall I mention my collection of pink satin bras? She decided against it.
Because Mrs Burns-Coopers, we can see, would not know how to respond, because she cannot imagine that Maud Martha has a life and a mind.
Veg*n thoughts: a chapter about the struggle and horror of preparing the corpse of a hen to eat is entitled 'brotherly love'
And yet the chicken was a sort of person, a respectable individual, with its own kind of dignity. The difference was in the knowing. What was unreal to you, you could deal with violently. If chickens were ever to be safe, people would have to live with them, and know them, see them loving their children, finishing the evening meal, arranging jealousy.
This passage relates back to Maud Martha's empathy with the mouse she caught much earlier in the book, and the elation and surprised pride she felt when she released the creature telling her to 'go home to your family'. It also relates, I think, to the way white folks behave, in their failure to see black folks as fully human.
I could never forget that this is a poet's book. Each line walks to the corner, turns with a flourish like a dancer, a fineness and exactness that catches breath. It is an epic in vignettes, radiating truth like sunlight.
And birthdays, with their pink and white cakes and candles, strawberry ice cream, and presents wrapped up carefully and tied with wide ribbons: whereas here was this man, who never considered giving his own mother a birthday bouquet, and dropped into his wife's lap a birthday box of drugstore candy (when he thought of it) wrapped in the drugstore green
It's the little sugar in the bowl that makes life sweet, not lavish spending, that she wants. Maud Martha reminds us that dandelions are embellishment, can give pleasure. She wants to be cherished, like her sister Helen, whose name, of course, suggests someone who inspires extravagant tribute. Helen has grace, but in Maud Martha's eyes, little else to justify the way she is seemingly adored over herself. The author takes a kind of revenge:
“You'll never get a boy friend,” said Helen, fluffing on her Golden Peacock powder, “if you don't stop reading those books”
If there's no love for reading girls (because we're dangerous), then the world is wrong, we know absolutely, cuddling our books for comfort.
What she wanted was to donate to the world a good Maud Martha. That was the offering, the bit of art, that could not come from any other. She would polish and hone that.
I liked her first beau, 'decorated inside and out', not so much the second who, longing for beauty and elevation like Maud Martha, fails to find any hope of it in black life. Years after Maud Martha has married someone else, he meets her at a university where they're watching a young black writer speak, and she witnesses him fawning over white friends, shrugging her off as she crimps his style. It's his problem, but another part of it is hers, like when she envies a lighter-skinned woman, 'Gold Spangles' who dances with her husband, Paul.
'It's my color' she thinks, that makes Paul mad, 'what I am inside, what is really me, he likes okay. But he keeps looking at my color, which is like a wall. He has to jump over it in order to meet and touch what I've got for him. He has to jump up high in order to see it. He gets awful tired of all that jumping.'
Poor housing blights Maud Martha and Paul; they live in a kitchenette and have to share a bathroom. Maud Martha's own story tells so much on how it is in so few words, but when she describes her neighbours in 'kitchenette folks', the text's density multiplies as more windows are deftly flung open on lives rubbing along, more or less discontentedly. Hope shines in the romance of 'the Whitestripes' who adore each other, but the hope that isn't for you perhaps hurts more; Paul admonishes her for admiring the couple: 'you can stop mooning. I'll never be a 'Coopie' Whitestripe.' Maud Martha agrees.
The cruelty, meanness, and racism of white folks occasionally pokes into Maud Martha's life, precipitating more horizontal violence (her conversation with the beautician who tells Maud Martha she didn't pull up the white saleswoman on her offensive language because she thinks they, black folks, should be less sensitive) and hard work for Maud Martha (reassuring her daughter that Santa loves her and promising her gifts to prove it after a constumed Santa in a toy store is rude and perfunctory to her). Brooks shows that black people always have to do the heavy lifting of race. Perhaps most incisive is the episode 'At the Burns-Coopers' where Maud Martha takes on work as a 'housemaid' and after one day of listening to the Mrs go on about her expensive pleasures knows she won't come back, despite the good wages:
Shall I mention, considered Maud Martha, my own social triumphs, my own education, my travels to Gary and Milwaukee and Columbus, Ohio? Shall I mention my collection of pink satin bras? She decided against it.
Because Mrs Burns-Coopers, we can see, would not know how to respond, because she cannot imagine that Maud Martha has a life and a mind.
Veg*n thoughts: a chapter about the struggle and horror of preparing the corpse of a hen to eat is entitled 'brotherly love'
And yet the chicken was a sort of person, a respectable individual, with its own kind of dignity. The difference was in the knowing. What was unreal to you, you could deal with violently. If chickens were ever to be safe, people would have to live with them, and know them, see them loving their children, finishing the evening meal, arranging jealousy.
This passage relates back to Maud Martha's empathy with the mouse she caught much earlier in the book, and the elation and surprised pride she felt when she released the creature telling her to 'go home to your family'. It also relates, I think, to the way white folks behave, in their failure to see black folks as fully human.
I could never forget that this is a poet's book. Each line walks to the corner, turns with a flourish like a dancer, a fineness and exactness that catches breath. It is an epic in vignettes, radiating truth like sunlight.
March 3, 2025
I had to get this through Interlibrary loan after reading Kathleen's beautiful review, along with others. I've been meaning to get to it for a while and finally took the plunge.
What I loved best about Maud Martha is her dignity. We meet her as a 5 year old, see her in vignettes as she goes through the teen years, courtship, marriage and motherhood. It's a slim book, poetically written, about her thoughts as a not very pretty girl ( her skin is too dark, her hair too nappy). What she has instead is a true sense of herself and her worth in the world, "to be the best Maud Martha she can be".
I'm very happy to have finally read this. It was worth the trouble it took to get it. I'm going to suggest to my library that they get some copies on the shelf.
What I loved best about Maud Martha is her dignity. We meet her as a 5 year old, see her in vignettes as she goes through the teen years, courtship, marriage and motherhood. It's a slim book, poetically written, about her thoughts as a not very pretty girl ( her skin is too dark, her hair too nappy). What she has instead is a true sense of herself and her worth in the world, "to be the best Maud Martha she can be".
I'm very happy to have finally read this. It was worth the trouble it took to get it. I'm going to suggest to my library that they get some copies on the shelf.
March 23, 2021
What is so wonderful about this book is that at its heart, it is a simple story of a life lived-the everyday life of a woman called Maud Martha.
The writing style is unique. As I moved from chapter to chapter (most are very short), it felt like I was watching a slide show- click, another moment in her life; another dream recounted. We follow Maud from childhood through to her married life.
“To be cherished was the dearest wish of the heart of Maud Martha Brown, and sometimes when she was not looking at dandelions ( for one would not be looking at them all the time, often there were chairs and tables to dust or tomatoes to slice or beds to make or grocery stores to be gone to, and in the colder months there were no dandelions at all), it was hard to believe that a thing of only ordinary allure nets- if the allurements of any flower could be said to be ordinary- was as easy to love as a thing of heart-catching beauty.”
The author is a Poet Laureate, so it’s no accident that her writing is lyrical and poetic.
“People have to choose something decently constant to depend on, thought Maud Martha. People must have something to lean on. “
How prophetic for the year we have all just had.
Such a marvellous book and character study.
Highly recommended.
Must thank Julie Grippo and Jim Z for there wonderful reviews which brought me to this book.
The writing style is unique. As I moved from chapter to chapter (most are very short), it felt like I was watching a slide show- click, another moment in her life; another dream recounted. We follow Maud from childhood through to her married life.
“To be cherished was the dearest wish of the heart of Maud Martha Brown, and sometimes when she was not looking at dandelions ( for one would not be looking at them all the time, often there were chairs and tables to dust or tomatoes to slice or beds to make or grocery stores to be gone to, and in the colder months there were no dandelions at all), it was hard to believe that a thing of only ordinary allure nets- if the allurements of any flower could be said to be ordinary- was as easy to love as a thing of heart-catching beauty.”
The author is a Poet Laureate, so it’s no accident that her writing is lyrical and poetic.
“People have to choose something decently constant to depend on, thought Maud Martha. People must have something to lean on. “
How prophetic for the year we have all just had.
Such a marvellous book and character study.
Highly recommended.
Must thank Julie Grippo and Jim Z for there wonderful reviews which brought me to this book.
February 11, 2015
I really enjoyed Gwendolyn Brooks' poetry so I was interested to read her only novel. I really loved this book; it was a quick easy read, with short chapters that said so much. The book has vignettes of Maud Martha's life from childhood through adulthood. It touches on colourism in the African-American community, as well as love, motherhood and other topics.
December 15, 2023
10 Stars!
Gwendolyn Brooks manages, in about 150 pages, to create a beautiful portrait of a black woman's life, in Chicago, in the 1950s. This novel is so graceful and light, yet deals with the ugliness of colorism among black people, racism, domestic woes, motherhood, and daughterhood. Brooks, ever the poet, describes the minute details of everyday life with brilliant ease and lyricism. Each chapter is a little window into a moment in Maud Martha's life; she is a character with a quiet strength, able to endlessly dream and enjoy all of the things that make life beautiful despite circumstances that spell tragedy for many of the people around her.
Gwendolyn Brooks manages, in about 150 pages, to create a beautiful portrait of a black woman's life, in Chicago, in the 1950s. This novel is so graceful and light, yet deals with the ugliness of colorism among black people, racism, domestic woes, motherhood, and daughterhood. Brooks, ever the poet, describes the minute details of everyday life with brilliant ease and lyricism. Each chapter is a little window into a moment in Maud Martha's life; she is a character with a quiet strength, able to endlessly dream and enjoy all of the things that make life beautiful despite circumstances that spell tragedy for many of the people around her.
August 16, 2024
This stunning little book poses a question, or rather this reader was constantly pursued by the question while reading, is an ordinary life- unspectacular in its existence, bearing cherished childhood memories that most children have, with its grievances (petty and genuine) outside of the unusual, although shaped by the systemic oppressions and pressures persons categorized as her race face, devoid of grand tragedy or turbulence, worth telling? And the resounding answer that is confirmed turning every page: yes!
Maud Martha is a sensitive child. She's aware of the way life around her is arranged: her race, the darker shade of her colour, her social standing, all connive against her. It affects everything from the common desirability humans crave—to attract and be beheld as beauty, to the treatment she receives from strangers, to where she lives, the employment available to her, in short the course her life takes. She observes the shifts and turns of life; she grows up and cultivates the passions for the arts she's cherished since she was a child, and her beliefs of empathy and feeling. This stunning book is reminiscent of the people and places in Gwendolyn Brooks’s wonderful poetry, and both the poetry and this book are enriching reading experiences I'd highly recommend.
Maud Martha is a sensitive child. She's aware of the way life around her is arranged: her race, the darker shade of her colour, her social standing, all connive against her. It affects everything from the common desirability humans crave—to attract and be beheld as beauty, to the treatment she receives from strangers, to where she lives, the employment available to her, in short the course her life takes. She observes the shifts and turns of life; she grows up and cultivates the passions for the arts she's cherished since she was a child, and her beliefs of empathy and feeling. This stunning book is reminiscent of the people and places in Gwendolyn Brooks’s wonderful poetry, and both the poetry and this book are enriching reading experiences I'd highly recommend.
February 5, 2025
“What she wanted was to donate to the world a good Maud Martha. That was the offering, the bit of art, that could not come from any other. She would polish and hone that.”
This is a beautiful poetic novel. My previous experience with Brooks’ poetry was mixed, but this was all good for me. It felt autobiographical, taking a woman from childhood to motherhood, probably in the time the author was growing up in Chicago, in the 1930’s through to the 40’s.
From the first pages, I felt like I was Maud Martha. She is trying to make the best of her situation. What she wants most is to be cherished, and as she grew up, she cherished what she had, and managed to find happiness in her modest life.
But her strength comes through the pages. Even when it isn’t expressed, you feel it. Like when her employer says “I disapprove of mops. You can do a better job on your knees.” Brooks just lets these indignities sit there, without commenting on them. It has a very powerful and poetic effect.
What Brooks accomplishes here is looking honestly at life, with all of its troubles and disappointments, and still finding it beautiful. Heartwarming, encouraging and inspiring.
“…it was comforting to find that what was common could also be a flower.”
This is a beautiful poetic novel. My previous experience with Brooks’ poetry was mixed, but this was all good for me. It felt autobiographical, taking a woman from childhood to motherhood, probably in the time the author was growing up in Chicago, in the 1930’s through to the 40’s.
From the first pages, I felt like I was Maud Martha. She is trying to make the best of her situation. What she wants most is to be cherished, and as she grew up, she cherished what she had, and managed to find happiness in her modest life.
But her strength comes through the pages. Even when it isn’t expressed, you feel it. Like when her employer says “I disapprove of mops. You can do a better job on your knees.” Brooks just lets these indignities sit there, without commenting on them. It has a very powerful and poetic effect.
What Brooks accomplishes here is looking honestly at life, with all of its troubles and disappointments, and still finding it beautiful. Heartwarming, encouraging and inspiring.
“…it was comforting to find that what was common could also be a flower.”
April 26, 2023
Maud Martha, siyahi bir kadının 1920’lerde başlayıp 1940’lı yıllara kadar uzanan hikayesi. Hikayesi diyorum ama ortada “büyük” bir hikaye yok aslında. Bir hayatın farklı dönemlerine ait kısa kısa anlar, durumlar var. Irkçılık ve yoksulluk her zaman kendini hissettiriyor. Evliliğin ve anneliğinden kendiliğinden gelen zorlukları da aynı şekilde. Buna rağmen hem iyi niyetli hem de iyimser bir karakter olan Maud, hiç şikayet etmiyor, hayatı daima bir yerinden yakalamaya çalışıyor. Onun bu halini çok sevdim ve kitabı bitirdikten sonra kendimi ferahlamış hissettim. Bazen kitapların bıraktığı his kitabın hikayesinin, anlatmının önüne geçebiliyor ya, burada da böyle oldu. Özetle seni tanımak çok güzeldi Maud.
August 28, 2011
Stunning things happen when a poet writes a novel. They happen here in this raw and insightful examination of a woman's life in Chicago. It doesn't matter so much when this story takes place because it is THAT timeless. This is a fast read that I did not want to finish. I kept going back, and then forwad again, to delay the inevitable, the end. Here is an author that was crafting her writing in a fresh and new way back in the 1950's, and it reads fresh and new today. What a pleasure to see things this way, to see how words can be strung together so that a couple of paragraphs is a full and satisfying chapter.
December 16, 2020
A simple yet deep novel, beautifully written. This is portrayal of the everyday life of a black woman who has to face racism and discrimination everyday and everywhere. Yet, she's not bitter or hateful. There's not much of a plot here, no big dramas- the way real life actually is.
It's profound, heartfelt and realistic. The narrative is dreamlike and subtle -- very nuanced and unsaid things speak volumes for themselves.
"To create - a role, a poem, a rapture in stone : great. But not for her. What she wanted was to donate to the world a good Maud Martha. That was the offering, the bit of art, that could not come from any orher.
She would polish and hone that."
It's profound, heartfelt and realistic. The narrative is dreamlike and subtle -- very nuanced and unsaid things speak volumes for themselves.
"To create - a role, a poem, a rapture in stone : great. But not for her. What she wanted was to donate to the world a good Maud Martha. That was the offering, the bit of art, that could not come from any orher.
She would polish and hone that."
May 11, 2022
This is a beautifully written novella about Maud Martha, from her childhood to adulthood as a wife and mother. The early chapters see things through the eyes of a child, dandelions, death, differences between her and her sister. As she gets older relationships, her place in the world, moving to New York, marriage , neighbours , childbirth; an ordinary life told in short chapters, poetically revealing the beauty and nastiness in everyday life. Easily read in one go.
January 13, 2025
” Essere amata era il desiderio più grande che albergava nel cuore di Maud Martha Brown”
Gwendolyne Brooks (1917-2000), poetessa afroamericana pluripremiata (un Pulitzer nel 1950 segna l’apice di molti altri riconoscimenti), pubblicò nel 1953 “Maud Martha” unico suo romanzo riscoperto e tradotto recentemente.
Un testo breve composto da trentaquattro istantanee che ritraggono la protagonista – Maud Martha, per l’appunto- dall’infanzia alla maturità.
Siamo a Chicago. Una bambina di sette anni, seduta sotto il portico di casa (quando ancora in periferia c’erano case di questo genere) fa questi pensieri:
” Le piacevano le caramelle a forma di bottone e i libri e dipingere la musica (blu intenso o argento delicato) e il cielo dell’ovest, così mutevole dai gradini del portico sul retro, e poi il tarassaco.
Avrebbe voluto un fior di loto, o un astro della Cina o l’iris giapponese, oppure i gigli di campo, perché bastava la parola campo a farla respirare più a fondo e sollevare estatica le braccia – o pensare di farlo, a seconda di chi aveva accanto – verso chiunque la stesse guardando là in cielo. Ma era il tarassaco che vedeva ovunque. Gemme gialle per tutti i giorni, che ornavano l’abito verde rattoppato del suo cortile. Le piaceva la loro grazia misurata e il fatto che fossero ordinari, dettaglio che le sembrava rispecchiasse l’immagine che aveva di sé, e le dava conforto pensare che una cosa tanto comune potesse anche essere un fiore.”
Una bambina come tante ma con un sensibilità più accentuata.
Un costante bisogno di essere amata, le paure, le gioie, la morte, l’amore. Leggendo sembra di sbirciare nella vita di questa bimba, poi ragazza, poi donna e madre.
Una corda tesa attraversa le pagine e rischia di fare inciampare Maud Martha: è il razzismo sempre presente ovunque si vada. Sono le parole sferzanti, gli sguardi taglienti quella continua sensazione di sentirsi un intruso.
Nonostante tutto ciò Maud Martha è una donna che ama e vuole essere amata.
Una donna che in mezzo a tante cattiverie sa cogliere la bellezza di un fiore:
” E i giornali dei neri (sulle cui prime pagine brillavano le solite rappresentazioni della Bellezza femminile, pallida e cotonata) riportavano i dettagli dell’ultimo linciaggio in Georgia e Mississippi…
Ma il sole splendeva, e tante persone erano rimaste in vita nel mondo, ed era improbabile che le assurde azioni dell’uomo sarebbero mai riuscite ad annientare completamente il mondo e nemmeno la naturale tenacia del fiore più infimo e comune: perché non poteva rispuntare in primavera? Sarebbe rispuntato, se necessario, vicino, in mezzo o persino dai cadaveri fracassati – cosa orribilmente inopportuna – che giacevano rigidi e dignitosi in quel silenzio infallibile, sincero.”
Gwendolyne Brooks (1917-2000), poetessa afroamericana pluripremiata (un Pulitzer nel 1950 segna l’apice di molti altri riconoscimenti), pubblicò nel 1953 “Maud Martha” unico suo romanzo riscoperto e tradotto recentemente.
Un testo breve composto da trentaquattro istantanee che ritraggono la protagonista – Maud Martha, per l’appunto- dall’infanzia alla maturità.
Siamo a Chicago. Una bambina di sette anni, seduta sotto il portico di casa (quando ancora in periferia c’erano case di questo genere) fa questi pensieri:
” Le piacevano le caramelle a forma di bottone e i libri e dipingere la musica (blu intenso o argento delicato) e il cielo dell’ovest, così mutevole dai gradini del portico sul retro, e poi il tarassaco.
Avrebbe voluto un fior di loto, o un astro della Cina o l’iris giapponese, oppure i gigli di campo, perché bastava la parola campo a farla respirare più a fondo e sollevare estatica le braccia – o pensare di farlo, a seconda di chi aveva accanto – verso chiunque la stesse guardando là in cielo. Ma era il tarassaco che vedeva ovunque. Gemme gialle per tutti i giorni, che ornavano l’abito verde rattoppato del suo cortile. Le piaceva la loro grazia misurata e il fatto che fossero ordinari, dettaglio che le sembrava rispecchiasse l’immagine che aveva di sé, e le dava conforto pensare che una cosa tanto comune potesse anche essere un fiore.”
Una bambina come tante ma con un sensibilità più accentuata.
Un costante bisogno di essere amata, le paure, le gioie, la morte, l’amore. Leggendo sembra di sbirciare nella vita di questa bimba, poi ragazza, poi donna e madre.
Una corda tesa attraversa le pagine e rischia di fare inciampare Maud Martha: è il razzismo sempre presente ovunque si vada. Sono le parole sferzanti, gli sguardi taglienti quella continua sensazione di sentirsi un intruso.
Nonostante tutto ciò Maud Martha è una donna che ama e vuole essere amata.
Una donna che in mezzo a tante cattiverie sa cogliere la bellezza di un fiore:
” E i giornali dei neri (sulle cui prime pagine brillavano le solite rappresentazioni della Bellezza femminile, pallida e cotonata) riportavano i dettagli dell’ultimo linciaggio in Georgia e Mississippi…
Ma il sole splendeva, e tante persone erano rimaste in vita nel mondo, ed era improbabile che le assurde azioni dell’uomo sarebbero mai riuscite ad annientare completamente il mondo e nemmeno la naturale tenacia del fiore più infimo e comune: perché non poteva rispuntare in primavera? Sarebbe rispuntato, se necessario, vicino, in mezzo o persino dai cadaveri fracassati – cosa orribilmente inopportuna – che giacevano rigidi e dignitosi in quel silenzio infallibile, sincero.”
January 13, 2025
ya ne tatlı bir kitapmış bu. sadece çevirmeni didar zeynep batumlu’nun adına güvenip hakkında hiçbir şey bilmeden almıştım. meğer pulitzer ödüllü ilk siyahi kadın şairmiş gwendolyn brooks.
34 bölümde doğrusal bir zaman çizgisi olmadan siyahi bir kadın olan maud martha’nın yaşamından kesitler var kitapta. şiirsel bir dille yazılmış ama bir yandan da içerdiği ve aktardığı detaylarla düzyazının bütün olanaklarını nefis kullanmış. hele yaşadıkları apartman sakinlerinin anlatıldığı bir bölüm var ki 12 sayfada insanlık tarihi gibi.
maud martha zekasının farkında son derece edebi potansiyeli olan bir kadın ama önce ailede kızkardeşinin çok daha fazla sevilmesi, sonra ilgisiz kocası, geçim sıkıntısı ve en çok da teninin rengiyle yaşama dair arzuları yarım kalıyor. ilk bölümde söylendiği üzere hayatta en çok istediği şey sevilip değer görmek, hepimiz gibi.
şikago’da yaşadığı ırkçılık sadece beyazlar tarafından yapılmıyor. açık tenli siyahlar daha koyu tenlilere de ırkçılık yapıyor. hatta bazen öyle sözler söyleniyor ki tam anlamadığımdan bunu söyleyen beyaz mı siyah mı diye tekrar tekrar okuduğum oldu. o nedenle siyahlar arasındaki hiyerarşiyi ve çirkin olmanın bir kadına daha en baştan yarattığı dezavantajı anlatmasıyla zamanının önünde giden bir eser maud martha.
sevecenliğini hep koruyan, onurlu duran, (bir kuaförde zenci sözcüğünün kullanılması sırasında düşündükleriyle) kendisiyle çelişmeyen ve tüm sıkıcılığına rağmen kocası paul’ü sevmeye devam eden unutulmaz karakterlerden biri bence maud martha.
didar zeynep batumlu’nun her zamanki gibi özenli çevirisiyle…
34 bölümde doğrusal bir zaman çizgisi olmadan siyahi bir kadın olan maud martha’nın yaşamından kesitler var kitapta. şiirsel bir dille yazılmış ama bir yandan da içerdiği ve aktardığı detaylarla düzyazının bütün olanaklarını nefis kullanmış. hele yaşadıkları apartman sakinlerinin anlatıldığı bir bölüm var ki 12 sayfada insanlık tarihi gibi.
maud martha zekasının farkında son derece edebi potansiyeli olan bir kadın ama önce ailede kızkardeşinin çok daha fazla sevilmesi, sonra ilgisiz kocası, geçim sıkıntısı ve en çok da teninin rengiyle yaşama dair arzuları yarım kalıyor. ilk bölümde söylendiği üzere hayatta en çok istediği şey sevilip değer görmek, hepimiz gibi.
şikago’da yaşadığı ırkçılık sadece beyazlar tarafından yapılmıyor. açık tenli siyahlar daha koyu tenlilere de ırkçılık yapıyor. hatta bazen öyle sözler söyleniyor ki tam anlamadığımdan bunu söyleyen beyaz mı siyah mı diye tekrar tekrar okuduğum oldu. o nedenle siyahlar arasındaki hiyerarşiyi ve çirkin olmanın bir kadına daha en baştan yarattığı dezavantajı anlatmasıyla zamanının önünde giden bir eser maud martha.
sevecenliğini hep koruyan, onurlu duran, (bir kuaförde zenci sözcüğünün kullanılması sırasında düşündükleriyle) kendisiyle çelişmeyen ve tüm sıkıcılığına rağmen kocası paul’ü sevmeye devam eden unutulmaz karakterlerden biri bence maud martha.
didar zeynep batumlu’nun her zamanki gibi özenli çevirisiyle…
May 22, 2024
Det här är bok nr 15 i min Challenge 2024 som jag har satt upp vid sidan av ordinarie GR Challenge. Den går ut på att läsa minst 12 böcker från länder och/eller av författare som jag inte är bekant med sedan tidigare. Avsikten är främst att upptäcka nya bekantskaper och spännande, intressanta platser i olika delar av världen. Jag vill "uppleva liv jag aldrig har levt, bredda mitt perspektiv och vidga mitt universum" som det så vackert heter. Nu har min egen utmaning spårat ur för länge sedan men det får väl bli så att ambitionen i år är att försöka "läsa nytt" i den mån det är möjligt, typ.
Det kan inte vara en slump... jag zappade på Spotify på låtar från Curaçao och snubblade över en som heter något med "dandelions". Undrar vad det betyder, tänkte jag, och fick fram att det är maskrosor. Låten var så där så den hamnade inte på favoritlistan men när jag loggade in på GR fick jag en rekommendation om den här boken (för att jag gillade Tomma skåp av Maria Judite de Carvalho). Och det visar sig förstås att Maud Martha är väldigt förtjust i maskrosor, haha. Ja, självklart ska jag läsa den... men inte bara därför utan mest för att den fångade mitt intresse p.g.a. att Gwendolyn Brooks var första afroamerikan som fick Pulitzer-priset (för en diktsamling 1950). Då måste den vara speciell.
Efter att ha läst boken: De korta kapitlen ger ett plottrigt intryck men jag vänjer mig ganska snabbt och tycker om att få små glimtar av Maudies tillvaro i 40-talets USA. Känns som en autentisk och trovärdig tidsskildring. Kommer att tänka på en av mina favoritförfattare, Richard Yates, och hans Revolutionary Road*. Ingen jämförelse i övrigt, men det slår mig att livet ter sig så lika för de här två familjerna. Men ändå så olika. Bra språk och läsvärd bok.
När jag fått tänka efter i ett par dagar: 3 stjärnor känns ganska snålt (även om jag tänkte mig att de är starka, 3.5 typ). Det beror mest på min trevande början, var mer till freds med strukturen mot slutet. Jag höjer till en 4:a.
* och här kommer jag dragandes med mina filmreferenser igen… sevärd med Kate Winslet och Leo diCaprio! En av de få gånger jag tyckt att filmen är (nästan) lika bra som boken.
Det kan inte vara en slump... jag zappade på Spotify på låtar från Curaçao och snubblade över en som heter något med "dandelions". Undrar vad det betyder, tänkte jag, och fick fram att det är maskrosor. Låten var så där så den hamnade inte på favoritlistan men när jag loggade in på GR fick jag en rekommendation om den här boken (för att jag gillade Tomma skåp av Maria Judite de Carvalho). Och det visar sig förstås att Maud Martha är väldigt förtjust i maskrosor, haha. Ja, självklart ska jag läsa den... men inte bara därför utan mest för att den fångade mitt intresse p.g.a. att Gwendolyn Brooks var första afroamerikan som fick Pulitzer-priset (för en diktsamling 1950). Då måste den vara speciell.
Efter att ha läst boken: De korta kapitlen ger ett plottrigt intryck men jag vänjer mig ganska snabbt och tycker om att få små glimtar av Maudies tillvaro i 40-talets USA. Känns som en autentisk och trovärdig tidsskildring. Kommer att tänka på en av mina favoritförfattare, Richard Yates, och hans Revolutionary Road*. Ingen jämförelse i övrigt, men det slår mig att livet ter sig så lika för de här två familjerna. Men ändå så olika. Bra språk och läsvärd bok.
När jag fått tänka efter i ett par dagar: 3 stjärnor känns ganska snålt (även om jag tänkte mig att de är starka, 3.5 typ). Det beror mest på min trevande början, var mer till freds med strukturen mot slutet. Jag höjer till en 4:a.
* och här kommer jag dragandes med mina filmreferenser igen… sevärd med Kate Winslet och Leo diCaprio! En av de få gånger jag tyckt att filmen är (nästan) lika bra som boken.
December 16, 2022
Maud Martha is a quiet triumph that follows our protagonist from girlhood into marriage. Maud shares her world with a clarity that can only be called "learned" "lived" and "poetic." Maud has thoughts! ideas! opinions! ruminations! Maud's is not a life to be pitied but celebrated even when she shares her most private defeats. This novel is as much about Chicago as it is about Maud. This was a reread for me as I read Maud Martha over a decade ago, and it has stood the test of time with its commentary on race, color, gender, community and love.
I could not love and appreciate Gwendolyn Brooks anymore than I already do.
Here I am in 2022 rereading it again and I am once again filled with hope.
I could not love and appreciate Gwendolyn Brooks anymore than I already do.
Here I am in 2022 rereading it again and I am once again filled with hope.
May 3, 2025
Maud Martha is Gwendolyn Brooks only novel. Most of you will probably know Brooks for her stature of one of the most renown African American poets of the 20th century. Thus far, I haven't read any of her poetry collections but like most people I know (and love) her infamous poem "We Real Cool". Maud Martha had been on my wishlist for a long time (gotta love a short book! especially novellas in the vignette style – Cane and Homegoing, I'm looking at you), and so I was really happy when my sister gifted the book to me for my birthday this year.
Structurally, the novel has a nonlinear narrative and distinguishes itself by its poetic language. In a sense, Maud Martha could be viewed as a fragmentary poetic narrative. I'm sure there are connections to Brooks' poetic style.
The novel opens with a description of Maud Martha at age seven, and introductions to her family: Her father, Abraham, her mother, Belva, her sister Helen, and her brother Harry. The family is scraping by financially, and an early chapter shows a moment where they could lose their home if their father doesn't get approved for a homeowner's loan. Maud is very jealous of her sister Helen because of the attention she receives and her lighter skin tone. Issues of colorism (within Black families as well as in American society) are often discussed in fiction written by Black women in the US – and Maud Martha is no exception.
Maud eventually marries Paul Phillips, and is ultimately disappointed in him and his inability to be the provider of their family as well as a satisfying romantic partner to her. Issues of race relations within American society are apparent throughout the book, for instance when Maud and Paul go on a date and find themselves to be the only Black people in the theatre, and therefore exposed to the looks of white people. Maud also leaves her job as a housekeeper due to the racist work environment. When she takes her daughter to see Santa Claus, both are disappointed to find that Santa treats Paulette, the Black girl, totally different from the white kids who waited in line before her.
Maud Martha is a mosaic of a life that is full of hardship, but full of beauty too. Overall, I wasn't the biggest fan of this novella because I didn't find the characters too compelling, and so mixed with the rather thin plot, I didn't strike me as remarkable. However, by far my favorite section of the book, was the last vignette. It is so beautifully life-arming, and exactly what I need in a time like ours that just isn't. Maud Martha ends on a hopeful note, with Maud being thankful for the life she has: "But the sun was shining, and some of the people in the world had been left alive, and it was doubtful whether the ridiculousness of man would ever completely succeed in destroying the world—or, in fact, the basic equanimity of the least and commonest flower: for would its kind not come up again in the spring? come up, if necessary, among, between, or out of—beastly inconvenient—the smashed corpses lying in strict composure, in that hush infallible and sincere? And was not this something to be thankful for?"
It reminded me of that Tiktok sound "I think I like this little life". Maud's life isn't all that special, but neither is mine, and neither (probably) is yours. What, what are we going to do with all of this life? This is the primary question each and everyone of us need to find their individual meaning for. For Maude, it's having another baby and providing for her family. What is it for you?
What, what, am I to do with all of this life?The novel is structured as a series of thirty-four vignettes and follows the titular character Maud Martha, a young Black girl, growing up in late 1920's Chicago. It is a sort of coming of age tale, as we witness Maud growing into a woman, struggling with race, class and gender.
Structurally, the novel has a nonlinear narrative and distinguishes itself by its poetic language. In a sense, Maud Martha could be viewed as a fragmentary poetic narrative. I'm sure there are connections to Brooks' poetic style.
The novel opens with a description of Maud Martha at age seven, and introductions to her family: Her father, Abraham, her mother, Belva, her sister Helen, and her brother Harry. The family is scraping by financially, and an early chapter shows a moment where they could lose their home if their father doesn't get approved for a homeowner's loan. Maud is very jealous of her sister Helen because of the attention she receives and her lighter skin tone. Issues of colorism (within Black families as well as in American society) are often discussed in fiction written by Black women in the US – and Maud Martha is no exception.
Maud eventually marries Paul Phillips, and is ultimately disappointed in him and his inability to be the provider of their family as well as a satisfying romantic partner to her. Issues of race relations within American society are apparent throughout the book, for instance when Maud and Paul go on a date and find themselves to be the only Black people in the theatre, and therefore exposed to the looks of white people. Maud also leaves her job as a housekeeper due to the racist work environment. When she takes her daughter to see Santa Claus, both are disappointed to find that Santa treats Paulette, the Black girl, totally different from the white kids who waited in line before her.
Maud Martha is a mosaic of a life that is full of hardship, but full of beauty too. Overall, I wasn't the biggest fan of this novella because I didn't find the characters too compelling, and so mixed with the rather thin plot, I didn't strike me as remarkable. However, by far my favorite section of the book, was the last vignette. It is so beautifully life-arming, and exactly what I need in a time like ours that just isn't. Maud Martha ends on a hopeful note, with Maud being thankful for the life she has: "But the sun was shining, and some of the people in the world had been left alive, and it was doubtful whether the ridiculousness of man would ever completely succeed in destroying the world—or, in fact, the basic equanimity of the least and commonest flower: for would its kind not come up again in the spring? come up, if necessary, among, between, or out of—beastly inconvenient—the smashed corpses lying in strict composure, in that hush infallible and sincere? And was not this something to be thankful for?"
It reminded me of that Tiktok sound "I think I like this little life". Maud's life isn't all that special, but neither is mine, and neither (probably) is yours. What, what are we going to do with all of this life? This is the primary question each and everyone of us need to find their individual meaning for. For Maude, it's having another baby and providing for her family. What is it for you?
July 30, 2022
Every now and again, a book comes along that captivates the reader with its elegant form and glittering prose. Maud Martha is one such book, the only novel by the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Gwendolyn Brooks. First published in the US in 1953, this exquisitely-written novella has recently been released in the UK for the first time, making it available to a much wider audience of readers than before.
Maud Martha comprises a sequence of around thirty short vignettes, each one an evocative prose poem presenting a snapshot of the titular character’s life from childhood to early adulthood. As the writer Margo Jefferson points out in her excellent introduction, Brooks – an African American woman from the working classes – drew on her own life to create Maud Martha, tweaking various elements, dialling them up or down to portray the story.
Like Gwendolyn Brooks herself, Maud Martha Brown was born in 1917 to a relatively poor African American family from Chicago. As such, the novella’s early chapters offer glimpses of Maud’s childhood in the city’s South Side, a tough, uncompromising environment punctuated by flashes of beauty in the day-to-day. Dandelions glitter like ‘yellow jewels for everyday, studding the patched green dress’ of the Browns��� back yard, while the beginning of class is heralded by the peal of a bell, ‘a quickening of steps’ and the ‘fluttering of brief cases.’ Right from the very start, the reader is struck by the author’s use of imagery to convey a glorious sense of wonder in the routine and mundane.
Over the course of the novel, we follow Maud Martha through childhood, her early romances as a teenager, to marriage and motherhood, moving seamlessly from the early 1920s to the mid-’40s. The girl is bright, virtuous and imaginative – not as pretty or dainty as her older sister, Helen, but virtuous nonetheless. She dreams of a life in New York with all its attendant glamour and culture – alluring but unobtainable, for the moment at least.
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Maud Martha comprises a sequence of around thirty short vignettes, each one an evocative prose poem presenting a snapshot of the titular character’s life from childhood to early adulthood. As the writer Margo Jefferson points out in her excellent introduction, Brooks – an African American woman from the working classes – drew on her own life to create Maud Martha, tweaking various elements, dialling them up or down to portray the story.
Like Gwendolyn Brooks herself, Maud Martha Brown was born in 1917 to a relatively poor African American family from Chicago. As such, the novella’s early chapters offer glimpses of Maud’s childhood in the city’s South Side, a tough, uncompromising environment punctuated by flashes of beauty in the day-to-day. Dandelions glitter like ‘yellow jewels for everyday, studding the patched green dress’ of the Browns��� back yard, while the beginning of class is heralded by the peal of a bell, ‘a quickening of steps’ and the ‘fluttering of brief cases.’ Right from the very start, the reader is struck by the author’s use of imagery to convey a glorious sense of wonder in the routine and mundane.
Over the course of the novel, we follow Maud Martha through childhood, her early romances as a teenager, to marriage and motherhood, moving seamlessly from the early 1920s to the mid-’40s. The girl is bright, virtuous and imaginative – not as pretty or dainty as her older sister, Helen, but virtuous nonetheless. She dreams of a life in New York with all its attendant glamour and culture – alluring but unobtainable, for the moment at least.
To read the rest of my review, please visit:
https://jacquiwine.wordpress.com/2022...
February 6, 2017
I read this novel about four years ago in a volume which was a collection of Gwendolyn Brooks' poetry. I had the pleasure of meeting and talking to her when I was an undergraduate majoring in English (literature).
Maud Martha is one of the most beautiful novels I've ever read. The language is poetic prose and positive with also a mix of the realistic.
Often African American novels are harshly realistic. But here Brooks' places the main character in occasional grating circumstances which would turn many bitter or warped, yet Maud Martha always keeps her head up and never stops seeing and seeking the sometimes hidden flower of the goodness in the life.
As far as the love of what is beautiful in life and what is good, I would say Maud Martha is me. Despite the harshness of life, if we keep searching and never lose hope we can find the beautiful and the meaningful. I feel this is the message of this little great poetic novel.
Maud Martha is one of the most beautiful novels I've ever read. The language is poetic prose and positive with also a mix of the realistic.
Often African American novels are harshly realistic. But here Brooks' places the main character in occasional grating circumstances which would turn many bitter or warped, yet Maud Martha always keeps her head up and never stops seeing and seeking the sometimes hidden flower of the goodness in the life.
As far as the love of what is beautiful in life and what is good, I would say Maud Martha is me. Despite the harshness of life, if we keep searching and never lose hope we can find the beautiful and the meaningful. I feel this is the message of this little great poetic novel.
April 9, 2022
The panoply of incidents and feelings of a small life, seen and felt through the eyes of Maud Martha, a "not pretty" black girl with a younger sister who is. Deeply felt, very moving, throughout her life Maudie observes the people of her family, in her apartment building, her beauty shop, on the street, taking it all in and creating a wisdom of understanding that lets her accept the world as it is and not be frustrated with where she has been relegated. She wants a better world, for instance just in small ways such as wanting Santa Claus to see her daughter Paulette the same way he saw the white children. For all this, the story still ends on a hopeful if somewhat resigned note. The outside of her might not be physically attractive, but Maudie's soul and her understanding and hope are spiritually beautiful, and the couple of hours reading her story were well spent.
January 20, 2012
I learned about Maud Martha from Elaine Showalter's excellent overview of American women writers, A Jury of Her Peers. Gwendolyn Brooks was primarily a poet and this was her only novel.
The novel is short, composed of vignettes in Maud Martha's life from childhood through courting, marriage and motherhood. The tone is lighthearted but Brooks spares no aspect of what life was really like for a young black woman in 1950s Chicago.
The writing is indeed poetic; in fact consummately so. She tells it to us, without censure or preaching, but man, do we get it: black, female, mother and wife. So well done.
July 6, 2011
This is my favorite book. Maud Martha's character, the episodic writing style, the exquisite word choice...I read this one again and again.
August 31, 2023
Único romance de Brooks mas suficiente para narrar o cotidiano de uma mulher negra do subúrbio de Chicago nas décadas de 40 e 50 e de tudo que a ronda, desde a infância à vida adulta em uma constante busca de responder a uma única pergunta: "Mas o que... o que eu vou fazer com toda essa vida?"
Contando acerca da vida dos trabalhadores negros, Brooks toma Maud Martha como personagem que desde a infância reivindica o direito de existir, de possuir direitos e liberdades, ainda que esses venham carregados de olhares desconfiados quando se é o único casal negro numa sessão de cinema, ou, quando as situações de racismo não se travestem de nenhum véu e vitimiza não somente a si, mas também a uma criança que a acompanha, ou mais, que a cor de pele mais clara pode ser uma enorme vantagem e também um grande abismo na vida de um casal.
Com uma escrita adorável, com uma personagem marcante que não se deixa aprisionar e tem uma imaginação poderosa, Brooks adentra na sociedade branca e demostra ao leitor, junto a Maud Martha, um mundo em que adentrar numa loja de departamento para conversar com um Papai Noel pode ser uma terrível experiência para uma mãe e filha negras. A mim, uma ótima leitura, ainda não conhecia a escritora.
Contando acerca da vida dos trabalhadores negros, Brooks toma Maud Martha como personagem que desde a infância reivindica o direito de existir, de possuir direitos e liberdades, ainda que esses venham carregados de olhares desconfiados quando se é o único casal negro numa sessão de cinema, ou, quando as situações de racismo não se travestem de nenhum véu e vitimiza não somente a si, mas também a uma criança que a acompanha, ou mais, que a cor de pele mais clara pode ser uma enorme vantagem e também um grande abismo na vida de um casal.
Com uma escrita adorável, com uma personagem marcante que não se deixa aprisionar e tem uma imaginação poderosa, Brooks adentra na sociedade branca e demostra ao leitor, junto a Maud Martha, um mundo em que adentrar numa loja de departamento para conversar com um Papai Noel pode ser uma terrível experiência para uma mãe e filha negras. A mim, uma ótima leitura, ainda não conhecia a escritora.
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