March: Book Three is the most decorated book of the 2017 literary awards season, and I'll start by saying it deserves every accolade.
It's almost overwhelming, though, how much there is to process.
For one thing, the echoes of the current political climate, and, in particular, the climate that spawned the (very necessary) Black Lives Matter movement and the (very unnecessary) backlash against Muslims, is chilling. For the longest time, when people would get their backs up about race relations, I would occasionally find myself saying, "Yes, we should be mad. But we've also come so far."
Having now read the entire March trilogy back-to-back, I'm not so sure that we've come far at all. And I'm struck now more than ever by my naïveté.
In fact, it kind of freaks me out how little progress has actually happened.
Let's play a game:
1963/1964/1965 or 2015/2016/2017?
"They say to us that we must be concerned not merely about who murdered them, but about the system, the way of life, the philosophy which produced the murderers."
"Until the killing of black mothers' sons is as important as the killing of white mothers' sons, we must
keep
on
."
"The Republican party is in real danger of subversion by a radical, well-financed, and highly discipline minority... wholly alien to the sound and honest conservatism that has firmly based the Republican party in the best of a century's traditions, wholly alien to the sound and honest Republican liberalism that has kept the party abreast of human needs in a changing world."
"But calling someone a 'communist' or a 'socialist' is the intellectual equivalent of throwing from your back foot. You're not putting much on the ball."
"There
is
no negro problem. There is no southern problem. There is no northern problem. There is only an American problem."
Did you think, "Hell, these could have been said today!"? You're right. They could have been. But they're all from March: Book Three (p. 18, p. 99, p.102, p. 143, p. 223)
This should shake every red-blooded, patriotic American that pays attention to the news to the core.
Lewis' story is so timely, so relevant to the rise in so-called populism we're currently seeing, that I would argue it makes his trilogy, and this volume in particular, vital to national discourse. In an ideal world, we would see the entire trilogy taught in middle schools (and high schools) across the nation. We would keep our youth engaged in discussion about race and class and freedom, and this book would be the perfect vehicle for such discussion.
Throughout the year, I participate rather actively in librarian-ish discussions, on blogs and in person, of "award-worthy" books. After the Youth Media Awards, there is often grumbling that occurs along with the exultation. I've taken part in both. When last year's Newbery Medal went to a picture book, I just about lost my mind. But I felt justified. It's a frigging picture book with text that might fill up a single, typed page. I loved the book, but just can't get past that the text was somehow more distinguished than the 500 page book that nabbed an honor.
When the rumblings started about March: Book Three winning too many awards, I found myself wondering if it was the work of trolls or people who honestly questioned its merits. One person mused on a blog if this book would have won had Hillary Clinton been elected. What a leap of logic. March: Book Three isn't even about Hillary Clinton, so I can only guess what the commenter was attempting to state. Even if Clinton had won, I can honestly say that I think this book would have swept. It is a remarkable, moving story about the fight for freedom. The prose is excellent, oftentimes rising to poetic moments. The art, too, is phenomenal. Powell's pen and ink drawings are highly evocative. There's a truly stirring, symbolic image on page 225 that serves to unite the nationwide narrative with the personal, internal narrative. It nearly brought me to tears.
This is a story about the triumph of the human spirit in the face of hatred and bigotry and fascism. It is an important story and one that should rally and stir within the reader a reflective moment, one that empowers and inspires. If the writing had been half-baked or ham-fisted, it would not achieve this effect. Yet, like all powerful literature, it does. So let's remove the "politics" of the argument altogether. This is a fine piece of writing and a marvelous catalog of human perseverance.
One reviewer on Goodreads claimed that the use of speeches was taxing. I can see that some people might not want to read re-prints of speeches. We must consider, however, the audience of this book. March: Book Three was written for young adults, ages 12+. This age group's context for historical movements during the Civil Rights era likely comes from textbooks (that have a strictly white perspective). Providing context for young people is critical, and what better way to provide that than pair historical speeches with images that reflect the reactions to those speeches? There's a wonderful moment on page 226, when, after Bloody Sunday, Jim Forman allows his passions to get the best of him, and he drops an f-bomb in front of a congregation that includes white people, members of nonviolent movements, and religious people. Powell's rendering of the nuns' reactions is a beautiful foil to what Forman hoped to accomplish, but failed. I would argue that the speeches are augmented beautifully by the art, and therefore profoundly necessary to the book's momentum.
If there is one nitpicky weakness to March: Book Three, it's the parallel to Obama's inauguration. Every now and then the narration of the past is interrupted by panels that depict Lewis' involvement in the 2009 inauguration. This works very well in the first two books of the trilogy, but distracts from the nail-biting drama of this volume. These passages in Book Three would have served far better as an epilogue, because the point is beautifully rendered by the end. I will say, however, that the final page of the book, is completely unnecessary. The book could have had a far stronger lingering finale.
It is not enough, however, to lessen the impact of this book. March: Book Three is marvelous in every sense of the word, and it rallies in me the fighting spirit even more - as a member of the LGBTQ community, as a participant in the Women's March on Washington and a virulent critic of the current administration, and as an American... an American who wants all Americans to have equal footing, equal access to vote, and equal (which is not "special") treatment.
I truly love this book and deeply admire the man who wrote it.
Come at me, trolls.