In The Through , Adrian and her partner Ben navigate the strange and dangerous magic of The Through, an African American ghost town that exists somewhere between Tuscaloosa, Alabama, and the other-world of the flying slave ship Yemaya , peach Nehi sodas, and mothers back from the dead. Ben and Adrian are not in an ideal partnership--Adrian survived childhood sexual abuse and Hurricane Katrina, whileBen listlessly adjuncts at the local university. The Through, as folk call it,used to be called Okahika, a black community that existed without street names or formal recognition. Okahika exists in every Southern state, connected by energy and history, come and gone, waiting and leaving. Yemaya leads Ben and Adrian on a journey into The Through that ends in healing - but at a very high cost.
This debut novel by A. Raphael Johnson is a must read. He has a writing voice that is lyrical and fresh, unlike any you've read before. He mixes music, art, history, magic, and nature, demanding much of us and giving us so much in return. The characters are complex and real, while aspects of the story are magical and provocative. The imagery and ideas will stay with you, and you will find yourself wondering when his second book is going to come out.
This is a book with a strong emotional core that addresses racism in America, personal trauma, the haunted South, the alienation of modern America, and other difficult topics...and does so with humor, wild details, sarcastic and beautiful characters, otherworldly cat stories, and peach soda. Moving and important--but also fun!
Johnson’s The Through is a riveting exploration of the trauma and magic that exists right at the edge of vision.
Often, authors write about the South in one-sided caricature, like a character in the novel whose parents “ran from the South and left the best parts behind. They taught him about the Klan and Emmet Till, but forgot haints and sweet potato pies” (19). The Through, instead, offers a rich and true depiction of the South as anything but monolithic (seen most clearly through loving explorations of New Orleans and Tuscaloosa). At the heart of the South and this novel lies America’s original sin, the originary trauma of slavery reverberating in traumas old and new to this day, but beyond and around those wounds, and in fact despite and even because of them, new lives and friendships and cultures and communities arise and flourish and fight for survival.
The novel imaginatively questions the fraught and complicated relationships between reality and symbolism and memory and the mythic; thankfully, it also attempts no easy answers to these questions. Instead, we as readers are challenged to explore our understanding of the way stories form, the differences between “fact” and “truth,” and the paradox that, despite the inexactitude of memory, memory makes us who we are, whether we like it or not. The result is an entertaining story, a resonant series of myths, and a philosophically thought-provoking work.
About midway through, one character describes an experience as “like remembering something you never saw” (119). The same can be said for this book.
The Through is a book about so many things: trauma, rape, black identity, slavery, Hurricane Katrina, relationships, ghosts, undead mothers, slave ships, black shooting and more. Told in lyrical prose, the story centers around Ben Hughes and his girlfriend Adrian as they go about their lives in present day Alabama:
Ben is a struggling writer who hasn't written in awhile while working a dead-end job as an adjunct professor. Adrian is a working professional who has experienced a lot of trauma in her past and tries to keep it in the past. She deals in self-harm but it's unclear if her injuries are imagined or real. One day, in a dilapidated part of town called The Through, a flying slave ship appears in the sky and its appearance starts a chain of events that ends in tragedy.
The book reads like a fever dream: hallucinatory images, beautiful allegories, and allusions to concepts that, to be honest, went way above my head. Reading the prose, you can tell A. Rafael Johnson can write. But because of its magical realism, it's hard to distinguish what's real versus imagined.
Hence, I found myself often confused, when a character meets a new person or does an act. Is it really happening or not? This could very well be the writer's intent, to leave the reader guessing, so I think this will be a marmite-type of book: some will love it and some will hate it.
I found it middling because while I can appreciate Johnson's elegant prose, I could not get a handle on the plot so found the book a bit too puzzling for my liking.
P.S. Still very confused by the cut on Adrian's hand and the constant appearance of cicadas.
The Through was enjoyable from start to finish, primarily because of how A. Rafael Johnson so seamlessly transitions from voice to voice, and the characters filled with so much life, and that's outside of our protagonists. Cut Mary and Ethiopia Jackson caught my attention anytime they uttered a single word, made a move, translated an experience. I found Ben almost too relatable at times. The speculative elements work well with the themes of pain, hate, and loss weaved throughout, but ultimately it speaks to an appreciation for and search of life, I felt.
I love the way this book weaves together the real-life struggles of the central characters and the magical-realist elements, which are captivating in and of themselves.
This was a strange book and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It blends a sort-of spirit world with the real world and asks good questions about memory and trauma and identity.
It had a similar feel to the movie Big Fish the way it weaves in and out of reality.
There’s nothing as exciting as a debut novel from an indie press. The Through is less a novel than a 265-page narrative prose poem. It’s spawns out of an unresolved trauma that results in a slow disintegration of reality with echos of southern folklore. Beautiful.
I loved this book, The Through by A. Rafael Johnson. Its magical realism reminded me a great deal of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I loved the way it pulled together the black experience and the history of slavery with the current day troubles of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina and Tuscaloosa, Alabama after its infamous tornado, and blended all that with the lives of characters who were so vivid and real. It even pulled in the fight against apartheid investment on the University of Texas campus in the 1980s. I also felt the presence of Toni Morrison and Beloved along with other novels of hers. The prose was very lyrical. The metaphor of the slave ship being carried by the characters on top of their heads speaks volumes. It will take a lot of pondering on my part to fully appreciate the depth of this book, but it will stick with me, of that I am sure. A great debut novel. Can't wait to read more from Mr. Johnson.