The Cigar Factory requires a bit of patience due to the Gullah/Geechee words scattered throughout the story. The unfamiliar language, however, is essential in depicting a certain class and time of Charleston, South Carolina, and although I had to use the glossary a few times for clarification, it was worth the effort. I even found phrases to love: "Trus-me-Gawd" (the handmade boats whose seaworthiness was doubtful), "the sun leaned down" (sunset) and "he'lenga" (the period just after dark; the lingering time), for example.
I knew nothing about the cigar factory in Charleston before I started reading this book, nothing about the custom of slave women wearing blue dresses, or the bell advising people to prepare for cold weather. I didn't even know that people once had to pay poll taxes and that unmarried women weren't entitled to a pension.
I appreciate having learned all of these things and more, and also for the introduction to the book's varied cast of characters, both black and white, and mostly poor. Although uneducated and sometimes misguided, Cassie, the loyal Irish-American who rises in the ranks of the factory due to her obedience, and Maliah, the African-American who is confined to the basement, are rendered with respect and tenderness.
This is a meticulously-researched, richly told story. Thanks to the late Pat Conroy, who contributed an introductory essay, for this discovery, and to Story River Books for publishing it.