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The Atlas of Reds and Blues
"Devi S. Laskar's The Atlas of Reds and Blues is as narratively beautiful as it is brutal. In prose that moves between cushioning characters' falls and ushering our understandings of characters' utopias, Laskar creates a world where the consequences of American terror never stop reverberating. I've never read a novel that does nearly as much in so few pages. Laskar has changed how we will all write about state-sanctioned terror in this nation." —Kiese Laymon, author of Heavy
When a woman—known only as Mother—moves her family from Atlanta to its wealthy suburbs, she discovers that neither the times nor the people have changed since her childhood in a small Southern town. Despite the intervening decades, Mother is met with the same questions: Where are you from? No, where are you really from? The American-born daughter of Bengali immigrants, she finds that her answer—Here—is never enough.
Mother's simmering anger breaks through one morning, when, during a violent and unfounded police raid on her home, she finally refuses to be complacent. As she lies bleeding from a gunshot wound, her thoughts race from childhood games with her sister and visits to cousins in India, to her time in the newsroom before having her three daughters, to the early days of her relationship with a husband who now spends more time flying business class than at home.
The Atlas of Reds and Blues grapples with the complexities of the second-generation American experience, what it means to be a woman of color in the workplace, and a sister, a wife, and a mother to daughters in today's America. Drawing inspiration from the author's own terrifying experience of a raid on her home, Devi S. Laskar's debut novel explores, in exquisite, lyrical prose, an alternate reality that might have been.
When a woman—known only as Mother—moves her family from Atlanta to its wealthy suburbs, she discovers that neither the times nor the people have changed since her childhood in a small Southern town. Despite the intervening decades, Mother is met with the same questions: Where are you from? No, where are you really from? The American-born daughter of Bengali immigrants, she finds that her answer—Here—is never enough.
Mother's simmering anger breaks through one morning, when, during a violent and unfounded police raid on her home, she finally refuses to be complacent. As she lies bleeding from a gunshot wound, her thoughts race from childhood games with her sister and visits to cousins in India, to her time in the newsroom before having her three daughters, to the early days of her relationship with a husband who now spends more time flying business class than at home.
The Atlas of Reds and Blues grapples with the complexities of the second-generation American experience, what it means to be a woman of color in the workplace, and a sister, a wife, and a mother to daughters in today's America. Drawing inspiration from the author's own terrifying experience of a raid on her home, Devi S. Laskar's debut novel explores, in exquisite, lyrical prose, an alternate reality that might have been.
269 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 5, 2019
158 people are currently reading
5570 people want to read
About the author
Devi S. Laskar
13 books120 followersDevi S. Laskar is the author of The Atlas of Reds and Blues (Counterpoint Press, 2019), winner of 7th annual Crook’s Corner Book Prize (2020) for best debut novel set in the South, winner of the 2020 Asian/Pacific American Award for Literature; selected by The Georgia Center for the Book as a 2019 book “All Georgians Should Read,” finalist for the 2020 Northern California Book Award, long-listed for the DSC Prize in South Asian Literature and the Golden Poppy Award. The novel was named by The Washington Post as one of the 50 best books of 2019, and has garnered praise in Booklist, Chicago Review of Books, The Guardian and elsewhere.
Laskar's second novel, CIRCA, will be published on May 3, 2022, by Mariner Books (@marinerbooks).
Laskar holds an MFA from Columbia University and an MA in South & West Asian Studies from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. She holds BAs in English and Journalism from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She is an alumna of both TheOpEdProject and VONA, among others. In 2017, Finishing Line Press published two poetry chapbooks. A native of Chapel Hill, N.C., she now lives in California with her family.
Laskar's second novel, CIRCA, will be published on May 3, 2022, by Mariner Books (@marinerbooks).
Laskar holds an MFA from Columbia University and an MA in South & West Asian Studies from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. She holds BAs in English and Journalism from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She is an alumna of both TheOpEdProject and VONA, among others. In 2017, Finishing Line Press published two poetry chapbooks. A native of Chapel Hill, N.C., she now lives in California with her family.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 380 reviews
May 4, 2019
"No, where are you really from?"
A brutal question to be asked when you are an American, born in America, raised in America. Hard to believe this is even a question asked in this century. But if your skin is brown and your parents are Bengali immigrants and you live in Atlanta, it's a painful reality.
This debut novel is written by Devi S. Laskar, an American poet. The style is poetic, with short chapters (many only a sentence long) and characters given nicknames rather than traditional names. She employs a distinct, fragmentary technique that may not work for some readers. I found it effective and powerful.
The main character is a woman living in the American south (a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia) who one day finds herself shot in her own driveway, by the powers-that-be, for no-good-reason. It is based on the author's own life experience.
The chapters are the recollections of this woman, as she lies on the pavement, dying, trying to answer the question: "How did I get here?" She is trying to make sense of it all, I suppose, as she bleeds onto the concrete and her life flashes through her mind.
The flashes are unrelentingly awful. I was sickened, almost in disbelief, that a brown person living in Georgia can meet consistently with danger, suspicion, distain and discrimination, on a daily basis. In every single aspect of life - work, neighbours, strangers, the dry cleaner, even family (her inlaws are white). I kept thinking "this can't be present day! Is this possible?" It's not that I disbelieved the author, or that I'm overly naive, but I guess I have never been aware of this type of outrageous racism before and it shocked me.
At first this alienated me somewhat. I had a hard time with there being a lack of even one example of a good white person. Even her husband, "the hero", is anything but a hero. He is always absent due to work, leaving his wife to fend for herself with the kids in such a hostile world.
My reaction probably comes from a deep uncomfortableness that I have, a sense of responsibility I carry, for how white people treat people of colour. I felt it simply couldn't be this bad because I don't want it to be true. Also because I know there are lots of wonderful white people who are examples of decent human beings.
I gradually have come to realise that this book about a woman who is laying in a pool of blood in front of her own home, does not need to make me feel better about white racism. This book doesn't have to be fair or equitable, showing consoling evidence that "of course not all white people are like this". We know this already, anyway. Instead, The Atlas of Reds and Blues is a painful and ruthless declaration that we have a long, long way to go.
This was a punch to the solar plexus. I'm a reader whose eyes have been opened wider about the continuing experiences of people of colour in America, and the world. I'm glad that Ms. Laskar has used her voice in the way that she has. Elegant, angry, accusing, essential.
A brutal question to be asked when you are an American, born in America, raised in America. Hard to believe this is even a question asked in this century. But if your skin is brown and your parents are Bengali immigrants and you live in Atlanta, it's a painful reality.
This debut novel is written by Devi S. Laskar, an American poet. The style is poetic, with short chapters (many only a sentence long) and characters given nicknames rather than traditional names. She employs a distinct, fragmentary technique that may not work for some readers. I found it effective and powerful.
The main character is a woman living in the American south (a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia) who one day finds herself shot in her own driveway, by the powers-that-be, for no-good-reason. It is based on the author's own life experience.
The chapters are the recollections of this woman, as she lies on the pavement, dying, trying to answer the question: "How did I get here?" She is trying to make sense of it all, I suppose, as she bleeds onto the concrete and her life flashes through her mind.
The flashes are unrelentingly awful. I was sickened, almost in disbelief, that a brown person living in Georgia can meet consistently with danger, suspicion, distain and discrimination, on a daily basis. In every single aspect of life - work, neighbours, strangers, the dry cleaner, even family (her inlaws are white). I kept thinking "this can't be present day! Is this possible?" It's not that I disbelieved the author, or that I'm overly naive, but I guess I have never been aware of this type of outrageous racism before and it shocked me.
At first this alienated me somewhat. I had a hard time with there being a lack of even one example of a good white person. Even her husband, "the hero", is anything but a hero. He is always absent due to work, leaving his wife to fend for herself with the kids in such a hostile world.
My reaction probably comes from a deep uncomfortableness that I have, a sense of responsibility I carry, for how white people treat people of colour. I felt it simply couldn't be this bad because I don't want it to be true. Also because I know there are lots of wonderful white people who are examples of decent human beings.
I gradually have come to realise that this book about a woman who is laying in a pool of blood in front of her own home, does not need to make me feel better about white racism. This book doesn't have to be fair or equitable, showing consoling evidence that "of course not all white people are like this". We know this already, anyway. Instead, The Atlas of Reds and Blues is a painful and ruthless declaration that we have a long, long way to go.
This was a punch to the solar plexus. I'm a reader whose eyes have been opened wider about the continuing experiences of people of colour in America, and the world. I'm glad that Ms. Laskar has used her voice in the way that she has. Elegant, angry, accusing, essential.
March 23, 2019
There’s so much I could tell you about The Atlas of Blues and Reds, but there’s so much I’d rather you experience completely on your own if you decide to pick this up. This book is a treasure and a standout. ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️
The narrator, known as The Mother, moves with her family from Atlanta city-proper to the suburbs, where she quickly finds that, though decades have passed since her own childhood, not much has changed.
The questions are always the same. “Where are you from?” “No, really- where are you from?” The narrator was born in the United States to Bengali immigrant parents. But that answer is never enough.
Now she has three daughters to protect and a husband who works all the time, leaving her to fend for the children herself.
The Mother has been living on edge due to the racism she’s been experiencing, and it all comes to a head one morning when the police raid her house. Based loosely on the author’s personal experience with a similar raid, this story instantly comes vividly and sharply to life.
The police call to her house is baseless, and rather than her usual complacency, her anger boils over. The Mother is shot.
The Atlas of Reds and Blues is an enlightening portrayal of the experience of some second-generation Americans. It offers insight into being a woman of color at work, in the suburbs, as a friend, a wife, and mother. The writing is lyrical and the storyline completely immersive. Overall, I easily give The Atlas of Reds and Blues my highest recommendation. It made me think. It made me feel. It left me inspired.
I received a complimentary copy. All opinions are my own.
My reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com
The narrator, known as The Mother, moves with her family from Atlanta city-proper to the suburbs, where she quickly finds that, though decades have passed since her own childhood, not much has changed.
The questions are always the same. “Where are you from?” “No, really- where are you from?” The narrator was born in the United States to Bengali immigrant parents. But that answer is never enough.
Now she has three daughters to protect and a husband who works all the time, leaving her to fend for the children herself.
The Mother has been living on edge due to the racism she’s been experiencing, and it all comes to a head one morning when the police raid her house. Based loosely on the author’s personal experience with a similar raid, this story instantly comes vividly and sharply to life.
The police call to her house is baseless, and rather than her usual complacency, her anger boils over. The Mother is shot.
The Atlas of Reds and Blues is an enlightening portrayal of the experience of some second-generation Americans. It offers insight into being a woman of color at work, in the suburbs, as a friend, a wife, and mother. The writing is lyrical and the storyline completely immersive. Overall, I easily give The Atlas of Reds and Blues my highest recommendation. It made me think. It made me feel. It left me inspired.
I received a complimentary copy. All opinions are my own.
My reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com
May 4, 2019
“Oh Mother”.....
You are an unforgettable narrator!!!!
I was angry and sad with you!!!!
My goodness...
Powerful, brutal, beautiful poetic prose....
Devi S. Laskar’s sentences are piercing!!!
Fastest shortest ‘punch-in the-gut’ book- of- vignettes I’ve felt in any book this year!
The ugliness is disgusting and devastating....
Based on the author’s own experience as woman of color in America, in a wealthy suburban area!
Shame on us, America!!
Highly recommended!!!
You are an unforgettable narrator!!!!
I was angry and sad with you!!!!
My goodness...
Powerful, brutal, beautiful poetic prose....
Devi S. Laskar’s sentences are piercing!!!
Fastest shortest ‘punch-in the-gut’ book- of- vignettes I’ve felt in any book this year!
The ugliness is disgusting and devastating....
Based on the author’s own experience as woman of color in America, in a wealthy suburban area!
Shame on us, America!!
Highly recommended!!!
March 6, 2019
When I received a copy of “The Atlas of Reds and Blues” to review I was immediately struck by the gorgeous cover, a wonderful enticement to open and read the book. Devi Laskar has written two books of poetry prior to this book, and the rich and evocative writing of a talented poet were present on every page.
Laskar’s actual experience with a police raid on her home by armed officers informs the book along with her experience as a second generation American daughter of Bengali immigrants. From that starting point she paints an intense, stunning, and revelatory portrait of the racism and misogyny those perceived as “different” or “other” endure with incredible amounts of tolerance and restraint. And it’s not only what they endure, but what the consequences can be when they are finally pushed over the edge.
In a published interview Laskar reveals her primary motivation for writing the novel.
“I believe that silence is ineffective. Asians are often cast in a “Model Minority Myth” light — we are expected to have good grades, great work ethic, become doctors and remain quiet. I’m also a former reporter and a woman; so I was expected to remain silent, keep my opinions to myself. Silence hasn’t worked. Positive change only comes after candid conversations, uncomfortable debate. I want to be a voice for change for strangers. I know what it feels like to be publicly mistreated, and I want to change things so other people don’t have to go through what my family endured.”
I hope this book is widely read and provokes those candid conversations, increased awareness, and the impetus to make changes. I consider “The Atlas of Reds and Blues” a must -read, not only because of the important issues it presents, but also because it is brilliantly written, emotionally affecting, and absolutely unforgettable.
Laskar’s actual experience with a police raid on her home by armed officers informs the book along with her experience as a second generation American daughter of Bengali immigrants. From that starting point she paints an intense, stunning, and revelatory portrait of the racism and misogyny those perceived as “different” or “other” endure with incredible amounts of tolerance and restraint. And it’s not only what they endure, but what the consequences can be when they are finally pushed over the edge.
In a published interview Laskar reveals her primary motivation for writing the novel.
“I believe that silence is ineffective. Asians are often cast in a “Model Minority Myth” light — we are expected to have good grades, great work ethic, become doctors and remain quiet. I’m also a former reporter and a woman; so I was expected to remain silent, keep my opinions to myself. Silence hasn’t worked. Positive change only comes after candid conversations, uncomfortable debate. I want to be a voice for change for strangers. I know what it feels like to be publicly mistreated, and I want to change things so other people don’t have to go through what my family endured.”
I hope this book is widely read and provokes those candid conversations, increased awareness, and the impetus to make changes. I consider “The Atlas of Reds and Blues” a must -read, not only because of the important issues it presents, but also because it is brilliantly written, emotionally affecting, and absolutely unforgettable.
March 27, 2019
It was okay....
That's how I'm rating this one. I REALLY wanted to like this and thought I was going to be blown away. Again, I'm standing here and wondering, "What did I miss???"
It wasn't the structure of the book that bothered me. Normally, I'm fine with short paragraphs as chapters or even a sentence (in some cases). However, I think the structure of this and how choppy it was hurt my ability to read and relate or empathize as much as I could have. I'm not saying that every story has to be told in linear fashion. However, there were some pretty disgusting things that happened to the character and my reaction was more, "This can't possibly be true (I'm not calling the author a liar - I just had trouble stomaching people (white people) being so openly cruel and transparent about being so racist). I know the racist P.O.S are out there, I just have never seen it spoken so overtly before. To a person of Bengali descent! Anyway, I didn't feel the same gut punch of a reaction as I thought I should have been feeling. It also could have been the tone of voice the author was using? She came across very snarky about it so I don't know - maybe it was the delivery and I was meant to feel that way.
I guess my other problem was the fact that what the book slip cover describes as the time the narrator loses it and there is a police raid at her house as this big event and we learn almost nothing about it. We are introduced to the scene (again in short spurts) once it is happening. We don't know why it's happening, or what the resolution was. Maybe that doesn't matter - the point is that it DID happen and it DOES happen.
Obviously, I have a lot of conflicting feelings about this book (do you like how this entire review is an inner dialogue with myself??), and I think it is GREAT to start a discussion and maybe that's worth more than feeling something sometimes. All I know is that I was left feeling disappointed because I wanted more.
That's how I'm rating this one. I REALLY wanted to like this and thought I was going to be blown away. Again, I'm standing here and wondering, "What did I miss???"
It wasn't the structure of the book that bothered me. Normally, I'm fine with short paragraphs as chapters or even a sentence (in some cases). However, I think the structure of this and how choppy it was hurt my ability to read and relate or empathize as much as I could have. I'm not saying that every story has to be told in linear fashion. However, there were some pretty disgusting things that happened to the character and my reaction was more, "This can't possibly be true (I'm not calling the author a liar - I just had trouble stomaching people (white people) being so openly cruel and transparent about being so racist). I know the racist P.O.S are out there, I just have never seen it spoken so overtly before. To a person of Bengali descent! Anyway, I didn't feel the same gut punch of a reaction as I thought I should have been feeling. It also could have been the tone of voice the author was using? She came across very snarky about it so I don't know - maybe it was the delivery and I was meant to feel that way.
I guess my other problem was the fact that what the book slip cover describes as the time the narrator loses it and there is a police raid at her house as this big event and we learn almost nothing about it. We are introduced to the scene (again in short spurts) once it is happening. We don't know why it's happening, or what the resolution was. Maybe that doesn't matter - the point is that it DID happen and it DOES happen.
Obviously, I have a lot of conflicting feelings about this book (do you like how this entire review is an inner dialogue with myself??), and I think it is GREAT to start a discussion and maybe that's worth more than feeling something sometimes. All I know is that I was left feeling disappointed because I wanted more.
April 23, 2019
Devi Laskar has performed a sort of miracle here: she takes the common (but always tragic) theme of the two Americas and she delivers it with an original style and a gut-punch that had me reeling.
What is it like to be the daughter of Bengali immigrants – a woman of color living in a sanctimoniously racist upwardly mobile Atlanta suburb? For the unnamed narrator (we get two big hints of the narrator’s name much later on), it means constantly being subjected to commentary such as: “How long have y’all lived here Do you even speak English? Bless your heart, you must miss your people. You stick out like a raisin in a big bowl of oatmeal.”
When Mother (our narrator) is lying on the concrete floor bleeding out after a raid on her home (we know this from page one), everything that has brought her to this point flashes through her mind. The indignities that she and her three daughters have been forced to undergo in school. The harassment and intrusive comments from everyone from door-to-door salesmen to the dry cleaner aide and grocery check-out people. The comments on her color, her weight, her marital status.
Ms. Laskar seamlessly weaves other parts of the story – seemingly unrelated but actually quite on-the-mark – in alternating chapters, some of which are no more than a sentence or two. There are scenes, for example, with her German Shepherd rescue dog, Greta, who despite past abuse, never loses her spirit or her capability for love. There are asides about Barbie dolls – many girls on the threshold of adulthood actually decapitate or microwave these dolls with their dream-home expectations. There are references to “my hero” – her on-the-road husband, which start off lovingly and become more and more mocking. And as all this builds, Mother can no longer do what she asks her daughters to do: keep a neutral face with a benevolent smile and absorb all of it to not place herself at risk.
This is a wonderful book that builds in momentum as it goes along. I closed the last page with outrage that too many of us can treat other Americans with such contempt.
What is it like to be the daughter of Bengali immigrants – a woman of color living in a sanctimoniously racist upwardly mobile Atlanta suburb? For the unnamed narrator (we get two big hints of the narrator’s name much later on), it means constantly being subjected to commentary such as: “How long have y’all lived here Do you even speak English? Bless your heart, you must miss your people. You stick out like a raisin in a big bowl of oatmeal.”
When Mother (our narrator) is lying on the concrete floor bleeding out after a raid on her home (we know this from page one), everything that has brought her to this point flashes through her mind. The indignities that she and her three daughters have been forced to undergo in school. The harassment and intrusive comments from everyone from door-to-door salesmen to the dry cleaner aide and grocery check-out people. The comments on her color, her weight, her marital status.
Ms. Laskar seamlessly weaves other parts of the story – seemingly unrelated but actually quite on-the-mark – in alternating chapters, some of which are no more than a sentence or two. There are scenes, for example, with her German Shepherd rescue dog, Greta, who despite past abuse, never loses her spirit or her capability for love. There are asides about Barbie dolls – many girls on the threshold of adulthood actually decapitate or microwave these dolls with their dream-home expectations. There are references to “my hero” – her on-the-road husband, which start off lovingly and become more and more mocking. And as all this builds, Mother can no longer do what she asks her daughters to do: keep a neutral face with a benevolent smile and absorb all of it to not place herself at risk.
This is a wonderful book that builds in momentum as it goes along. I closed the last page with outrage that too many of us can treat other Americans with such contempt.
April 27, 2019
This book isn't perfect, but I loved the writing style (which surprised me because I usually don't jive with more experimental books, but it reminded me a lot of books written in verse) and story that was being told broke my heart in its honesty and realness (which is based on the author's own experience with police raiding her home).
November 5, 2019
[3.8] The narrator of this novel is trapped in a suburban world where she and her children are the victims of constant racism. The novel is written in poetic fragments which loop from past to present. My own distracted mood (I found myself constantly putting the book down and hopping up) didn't always sync well with the staccato structure. I was both confused and stunned. Yet even with my own shortcomings as a reader, Laskar's unconventional approach very effectively conveys the horror of white suburbia.
June 16, 2019
A powerful story with an ending that swept me away with many emotions. A story of prejudice, racism and the repeated insults a woman and her daughters must endure. It addresses the question of how many times a person can turn the other cheek. How long must a person display a stiff upper lip when with each act of hatred against them they rage on the inside? Although this book is short and a quick read it’s left me in an introspective place. I will silently contemplate what has passed and what sadly may be again. Will the people of this country ever find it in their hearts to truly move on past racism or is that too big of a hope? This story offers the terrible images and harsh facts that trigger reactions. There will be no change if people refuse to see things as they are. Devi S. Laskar will stimulate your feelings and provoke reactions. Her book offers us a honest look at prejudice in America.
April 22, 2019
Did not enjoy this one. The writing was really uninspired and a confusing jumble of issues and events without any coherent story. This book starts when the narrator has been shot during a police raid. She then recounts all the awful things she’s experienced as a WOC in the south, where the people are apparently uniformly horrible. (They aren’t, though). Things jump around in time and place, and different names are used for the same character. Just confusing.
January 23, 2019
In THE ATLAS OF REDS AND BLUES, Devi S. Laskar explores the silences and the righteous anger of women of color in the face of white supremacy with deft tenderness and clean, shimmering prose. I recognized so much of my own experiences with white supremacy in the ways that the character of Mother navigates her silences in order to maintain safety and sanity under the constant drone of microagressions as well as violent racism and misogyny--until silence and safety are no longer possible for her, and she is moved to a final act that changes her own (and the reader's) perception of everything that came before it.
This entire book is poetry, and Laskar, an accomplished poet, doesn't disappoint with the lyrical, luminous tone of this brilliantly crafted novel. ATLAS is a must read.
This entire book is poetry, and Laskar, an accomplished poet, doesn't disappoint with the lyrical, luminous tone of this brilliantly crafted novel. ATLAS is a must read.
May 17, 2019
Although this was a quick and easy read, it never particularly 'grabbed' me. I had a couple of problems with it - first of all, a lot of the casual racism seemed repetitive (maybe that was the point?) and a bit forced (... do people really ask such rude & intrusive NOYDB questions?) - although such things undoubtedly happen more frequently these days in 45's America and in the South. Secondly, the kaleidoscopic structure didn't really work for me, and I would have preferred more concrete information as to what is happening, rather than the poetic, imagistic passages we get (we never really do find out WHAT has led the cops to shoot Mother - or rather it is all a bit confusing, since there seems to be two incidents of police harassment - one at her workplace, and the final one at her home). Thirdly. much of the book is centered around the mundane day-to-day activities of Mother and her family, which didn't hold much interest and seemed like filler to make a short book novel length. Finally, the use of cutesy names for all the characters (The Real Thing, Eldest Daughter, etc.) reminded me uncomfortably of the worst book of at least the past decade - the execrable Milkman.
Apparently, this is based on a RL experience of the author, and perhaps might have been more effective as memoir rather than fiction.
Apparently, this is based on a RL experience of the author, and perhaps might have been more effective as memoir rather than fiction.
May 11, 2019
Racism, segregation, and prejudice are alive and well in the South. If you don't believe me, just read this book.
The protagonist lies in a pool of her own blood after being shot, as she looks back at her life in Georgia as a Bengali descendent. Make no mistake. She's American. She tells us over and over. Yet no one sees her that way. People constantly ask her where she's from. Some tell her to go back to her own country. The problem is, the US is her country.
There is no room for her in Georgia. No one wants her there. That's obvious from the policeman who pulls her and tickets her, sometimes twice in one week, for petty or non-existent infractions. Her children feel the pain of being too different to fit in in the schools. No one can believe she works in a shiny downtown building as a crime reporter. A policewoman laughs when she says she works in the building. A white co-worker must rescue her.
The story is told in a poetry-type manner in some chapters, containing only one or two lines. The chapters are short. This is a fast read, but a powerful one. Laskar skips around in time which can be confusing. It's not the type of book you pick up several times and read a chapter, then put it away. It begs for immersion, so save a block of time to feel the flow, or you'll likely get lost.
White people reading this novel may be disturbed. They have no redeeming qualities in this novel. While some may doubt that this type of prejudice still exists in the South, they would be wrong. From personal experience, the Deep South remains a very segregated and prejudiced place. My experience comes from living less than two hours north of Atlanta, in Eastern Tennessee. Yes, white people still use the N word. Yes, white people live in segregated communities and go to separate churches. Yes, white kids go to different schools than black people.
While the protagonist's plight may be slightly exaggerated (surely the policeman would recognize her after pulling her over in her neighborhood multiple times), Laskar's point that prejudice is still alive in the South is not a startling one for me. For those who have an idealized view of how race relations are in the South, this novel will shock you. You may not believe it. Sadly, it's true.
I just wish the novel had a call to action so the rampant racism that still exists in the Deep South would end.
The protagonist lies in a pool of her own blood after being shot, as she looks back at her life in Georgia as a Bengali descendent. Make no mistake. She's American. She tells us over and over. Yet no one sees her that way. People constantly ask her where she's from. Some tell her to go back to her own country. The problem is, the US is her country.
There is no room for her in Georgia. No one wants her there. That's obvious from the policeman who pulls her and tickets her, sometimes twice in one week, for petty or non-existent infractions. Her children feel the pain of being too different to fit in in the schools. No one can believe she works in a shiny downtown building as a crime reporter. A policewoman laughs when she says she works in the building. A white co-worker must rescue her.
The story is told in a poetry-type manner in some chapters, containing only one or two lines. The chapters are short. This is a fast read, but a powerful one. Laskar skips around in time which can be confusing. It's not the type of book you pick up several times and read a chapter, then put it away. It begs for immersion, so save a block of time to feel the flow, or you'll likely get lost.
White people reading this novel may be disturbed. They have no redeeming qualities in this novel. While some may doubt that this type of prejudice still exists in the South, they would be wrong. From personal experience, the Deep South remains a very segregated and prejudiced place. My experience comes from living less than two hours north of Atlanta, in Eastern Tennessee. Yes, white people still use the N word. Yes, white people live in segregated communities and go to separate churches. Yes, white kids go to different schools than black people.
While the protagonist's plight may be slightly exaggerated (surely the policeman would recognize her after pulling her over in her neighborhood multiple times), Laskar's point that prejudice is still alive in the South is not a startling one for me. For those who have an idealized view of how race relations are in the South, this novel will shock you. You may not believe it. Sadly, it's true.
I just wish the novel had a call to action so the rampant racism that still exists in the Deep South would end.
February 6, 2019
I was not prepared for the onslaught of emotions I experienced while reading The Atlas of Red and Blues. It has been over a week since I finished it, and honestly, I am still reeling from it. Laskar's writing is stunning - consisting of short, poetic bursts that brilliantly convey the urgency, fear and frustration that is felt by the main character, Mother, throughout the entire novel. In it's brief 224 pages, Laskar addresses struggling with culture specific, unrealistic standards of beauty perpetuated by Barbie, enduring horrific stereotypes and racism, police brutality and Mother's struggle to raise her daughters to be proud of who they are when the people in their neighborhood and town bully them relentlessly.
Inspired by true events from a police raid on the author's own home, she has created a thought provoking work that forces the reader to examine how they perceive and react to the circumstances and actions of people from backgrounds that are different from their own. She expertly spotlights the sacrifices and suffering a mother will endure in silence in order to protect her children and explores, to devastating effect, what happens when that silence is finally shattered.
Many thanks to Counterpoint Press for sending a complimentary copy in exchange for my review.
Inspired by true events from a police raid on the author's own home, she has created a thought provoking work that forces the reader to examine how they perceive and react to the circumstances and actions of people from backgrounds that are different from their own. She expertly spotlights the sacrifices and suffering a mother will endure in silence in order to protect her children and explores, to devastating effect, what happens when that silence is finally shattered.
Many thanks to Counterpoint Press for sending a complimentary copy in exchange for my review.
April 17, 2019
This book is a quick read--spare in information, concise in prose, large in underlying message. It takes the reader into a house of mirrors, propelling us around corners, backtracking through time, bringing us to abrupt stops, outlining critical moments within a lifetime of moments.
The story is told through the perspective of a woman ("Mother") as she experiences what it means to be a woman of color within a white, non-accepting culture. A culture that assumes and judges despite the fact she is as American as anyone around her. It catalogs page after page of insults, exclusions, remarks, and expectations that whittle at the edges of her resolve; that burrow into her flesh like a societal tick. We know immediately the painful outcome to this gradual erosion of a human being, but are transported along a pinwheel of remembrances, of pivotal incidents through the remaining pages, in order to create a gradual understanding of the "why" behind where the book begins.
The narrative format is a bit unusual and experimental. Not everyone will enjoy it. I was initially a bit put off by it, as this kind of format feels like a disjointed read--one that does not pull me into the story on an emotional level. The resulting "feel" is that I'm clearly reading a book, not falling into the story. It lost a star for that, due to my personal preferences, but still contained enough important content and impressive expression that I appreciated the novel.
This is one of several books I've read recently that focus on race and racism, and bring to mind "The more things change, the more they stay the same." I am appreciating the improved awareness they are giving me, even as I become more discouraged that we still have so far to go.
The story is told through the perspective of a woman ("Mother") as she experiences what it means to be a woman of color within a white, non-accepting culture. A culture that assumes and judges despite the fact she is as American as anyone around her. It catalogs page after page of insults, exclusions, remarks, and expectations that whittle at the edges of her resolve; that burrow into her flesh like a societal tick. We know immediately the painful outcome to this gradual erosion of a human being, but are transported along a pinwheel of remembrances, of pivotal incidents through the remaining pages, in order to create a gradual understanding of the "why" behind where the book begins.
The narrative format is a bit unusual and experimental. Not everyone will enjoy it. I was initially a bit put off by it, as this kind of format feels like a disjointed read--one that does not pull me into the story on an emotional level. The resulting "feel" is that I'm clearly reading a book, not falling into the story. It lost a star for that, due to my personal preferences, but still contained enough important content and impressive expression that I appreciated the novel.
This is one of several books I've read recently that focus on race and racism, and bring to mind "The more things change, the more they stay the same." I am appreciating the improved awareness they are giving me, even as I become more discouraged that we still have so far to go.
February 19, 2019
What a unique read, like flashes of a life, past, near present, present.
Mother lies bleeding on her suburban driveway in a quiet neighbourhood, shot by police.
Her hero (husband) may or may not be present.
She recalls growing up in the South, where she was born, the questions nevertheless about where they came from followed soon after by, go back where you came from, American born and raised, her beauty unappreciated, her talent undervalued, her car pulled over relentlessly.
We experience her helplessness and the progression of her dying state, lying there, witness to the banter of the police around her.
Mother of three girls, a constantly travelling and inattentive husband, who shares not her ethnicity, seems not to understand the impact it has on her life in the community; 'be nice' he says.
Snippets of her hurried life as she juggles everything, a job, a home, children, elderly parents
The memory of their dog, Greta, come back to life
Maybe it starts when...
Just maybe she changes the day when...
Perhaps she sinks into the muck of life the day that...
And then there are those Barbies
Startling, insightful prose in an unconventional form, weaves tapestry of a family and one woman who tries to navigate a culture she was born into but not of, doing her best, confronting a reality that doesn't want to accept her as she is, that judges her without knowing, that wants to put her in her place.
All this through demonstrations of flashes of her life, not a linear narrative, it's a picture building episodic creation of aspects of a life, in riveting prose, a portrait of Mother in hues of reds and blues.
Mother lies bleeding on her suburban driveway in a quiet neighbourhood, shot by police.
Her hero (husband) may or may not be present.
She recalls growing up in the South, where she was born, the questions nevertheless about where they came from followed soon after by, go back where you came from, American born and raised, her beauty unappreciated, her talent undervalued, her car pulled over relentlessly.
We experience her helplessness and the progression of her dying state, lying there, witness to the banter of the police around her.
Mother of three girls, a constantly travelling and inattentive husband, who shares not her ethnicity, seems not to understand the impact it has on her life in the community; 'be nice' he says.
Snippets of her hurried life as she juggles everything, a job, a home, children, elderly parents
The memory of their dog, Greta, come back to life
Maybe it starts when...
Just maybe she changes the day when...
Perhaps she sinks into the muck of life the day that...
And then there are those Barbies
Startling, insightful prose in an unconventional form, weaves tapestry of a family and one woman who tries to navigate a culture she was born into but not of, doing her best, confronting a reality that doesn't want to accept her as she is, that judges her without knowing, that wants to put her in her place.
All this through demonstrations of flashes of her life, not a linear narrative, it's a picture building episodic creation of aspects of a life, in riveting prose, a portrait of Mother in hues of reds and blues.
May 24, 2019
Aww sheesh. I feel like I need to explain that rating.
I wanted to like this book. From the blurb and the hoopla surrounding it, I would have bet real money that I would like it. There are real issues that concern me involved in this book, and I've heard nearly everything this character has heard, including things people on GR think must be impossible (people really do say incredibly insensitive and racist things - it happens - and often they do it proudly.)
My difficulty came first with the tone and focus: we have an unnamed protagonist who goes by far too many nicknames. She's a mom, a wife, a lover, a coworker and employee, someone's child and sister.... Unlike Milkman where an unnamed character got a moniker and stuck with it, this unnamed character gets a nickname from everyone in her life, so she's called everything EXCEPT her name - which makes the namelessness rather pointless. Her identity is all jumbled up. The timeline is also all over the place. I realize that it's all happening in a few minutes while she's bleeding after being shot, but I only realize that because the blurb told me so.
There's a nearly jaunty feel to the choppy writing. It's very close to comical at times, and never is "lyrical" as advertised. All of these things and a few more combine to distance the reader from the emotion and heft of what's actually happening. I have no problem with one sentence chapters or pages. I do have a problem with an enormous life and death issue being pelted with every gimmick in the world to... I'm not sure what it was supposed to do. What it did was make me feel very little empathy or closeness to a character I can empathize with, someone I share similar stories with.
I'm being harsh - mostly because I feel very let down. I really did want to love this book.
I wanted to like this book. From the blurb and the hoopla surrounding it, I would have bet real money that I would like it. There are real issues that concern me involved in this book, and I've heard nearly everything this character has heard, including things people on GR think must be impossible (people really do say incredibly insensitive and racist things - it happens - and often they do it proudly.)
My difficulty came first with the tone and focus: we have an unnamed protagonist who goes by far too many nicknames. She's a mom, a wife, a lover, a coworker and employee, someone's child and sister.... Unlike Milkman where an unnamed character got a moniker and stuck with it, this unnamed character gets a nickname from everyone in her life, so she's called everything EXCEPT her name - which makes the namelessness rather pointless. Her identity is all jumbled up. The timeline is also all over the place. I realize that it's all happening in a few minutes while she's bleeding after being shot, but I only realize that because the blurb told me so.
There's a nearly jaunty feel to the choppy writing. It's very close to comical at times, and never is "lyrical" as advertised. All of these things and a few more combine to distance the reader from the emotion and heft of what's actually happening. I have no problem with one sentence chapters or pages. I do have a problem with an enormous life and death issue being pelted with every gimmick in the world to... I'm not sure what it was supposed to do. What it did was make me feel very little empathy or closeness to a character I can empathize with, someone I share similar stories with.
I'm being harsh - mostly because I feel very let down. I really did want to love this book.
September 1, 2019
"Y’all best be getting back to where you came from, you hear?"
This book succeeded in getting me really angry about the current state of the U.S. The main character "Mother" is on the receiving end of a lot of cheery racist comments, and is treated terribly for being an "immigrant" even though she was born and raised in the states. As she lays dying after being shot by a police officer, her life flashes before her eyes, with a focus on her hardships. It's the kind of stuff we know is happening in the country right now.
The author's writing style didn't agree with me. She jumped around so much that I am still not 100% sure of how/why she was shot to begin with. This is literary fiction, so the writing is supposed to be pretty flowery. It wasn't really my taste. I do think this book has an important message and hope other people with pick it up and enjoy it.
March 1, 2019
I loved what the author had to say and I loved the way in which she said it (lyrically and poetically) but I was constantly thrown off by the literal structure of the book. There didn’t seem to be much fluidity or cohesiveness to the “recollections” being told. The racism portrayed in the book seemed to come across very conventionalized. In my opinion as a WOC, there were so many layers that could have been explored that were left unchartered. The synopsis draws you in because you want to know the details of WHY the police raid her home (aside from the obvious prejudice) but most of the book was spent alternating rather randomly between the past (focused on character building, I assume?) I was left wondering “why?” and “what does this have to do with anything?” after every few pages. The story just never solidified for me.
August 22, 2019
Searingly poignant, and written with poetic briefness, The Atlas of Reds and Blues switches back and forth in time, with sliver sharp images of one woman's life and retrospective as she lies bleeding out on her driveway after being shot by the police. Devi Laskar engages the reader in a beautifully organic exposition of the subtle nuances of racism, and how it is that the protagonist "Mother", has arrived at this final moment on her own driveway. I was swept away by this thought-provoking and empathetic debut, so much so that it felt (in the way of all good books) as though I'd lived another life between the pages of this spare novel.
October 12, 2018
Where to begin? I was so fortunate to receive an advance copy of this book, and I have to say it’s an absolutely stunning debut. This thoughtful, incisive prose, which often leans toward poetry, will haunt me for a long time, as will the message. But there is nothing didactic in Laskar’s exploration of the many faces of racism is America today. Her book is political, but it is also deeply personal. An incredibly moving read. I really can’t say enough good things about it, but just this—be sure to read it!!
May 1, 2019
This book is a marvel of compression, yet light as a feather to read. Mother's story of racism and its infuriating macro and micro aggressions is relayed in a light but bitterly ironic voice - whether she's juggling three little girls and a giant bag of dirty laundry at the cleaners, sitting at her bathroom-facing desk at work, or bleeding out in her driveway. The lightness of the writing was also enhanced by the great use of white space - some pages contain just one or two sentences - but it sets off the ideas the way a frame sets off a painting. The kaleidoscopic-looking cover echoes the way Mother tells the story of herself and her family (beloved dog included) in colorful fragments.
April 21, 2019
“She closes her eyes and a kaleidoscope appears, the blue of the sky giving way to the red pulse of pain near her stomach.”
An unnamed second-generation immigrant born to Bengali parents, also called The Mother is lying bleeding (from a gunshot wound during an impromptu raid) in her driveway. While the most question should be about the reason for such an occurrence, there is a bigger story that needs to be told first.
As our unnamed protagonist travels back to her childhood days, we see her memories comprising of a few questions that have been asked to her again and again: Where is she from? Why doesn’t she go back to her own country? Why is her English so fluent?
There is also a lot of abuse, both verbal and physical. Most of these are subtle ways of hinting that people don’t actually believe that she was born in America and that she shouldn’t overstay. She grows up in a hostile environment and years later she finds herself married to a white man (her Hero ‘or’ Man of The Hour). She brings in to this world three beautiful babies, whose fate is just like her mother- living traumatized in a world who sees them as an outsider.
“Time was fluid in the long list of past grievances.”
There are lots of layers to this story. Each event is evocative, and the sheer brutality of mankind is tested again and again. There are a lot of tiny, but very impactful details that build up the story leading to the final conclusion. Well, if there’s such a thing.
‘The Atlas of Reds and Blues’ begins where it ends and I keep wondering if the cycle of racism and abuse is the same. The story brought out a lot of emotions from within and every time this family suffered, it broke my heart a little. Every time people made vulgar assumptions about ‘The Mother’, it hit a nerve.
The author’s brilliant use of the evolution of Barbie dolls gives an added dimension to the story as it represents the notions for beauty and body color being followed by people for years.
‘The Atlas of Reds and Blues’ brings forth the troubles a human being has to go through because they are a person of color and the world isn’t as tolerant as it looks. The writing is ruthless and superbly defended. It comes from a place of pain and suffering, and that’s how the truth looks- terrifying and heartbreaking.
An unnamed second-generation immigrant born to Bengali parents, also called The Mother is lying bleeding (from a gunshot wound during an impromptu raid) in her driveway. While the most question should be about the reason for such an occurrence, there is a bigger story that needs to be told first.
As our unnamed protagonist travels back to her childhood days, we see her memories comprising of a few questions that have been asked to her again and again: Where is she from? Why doesn’t she go back to her own country? Why is her English so fluent?
There is also a lot of abuse, both verbal and physical. Most of these are subtle ways of hinting that people don’t actually believe that she was born in America and that she shouldn’t overstay. She grows up in a hostile environment and years later she finds herself married to a white man (her Hero ‘or’ Man of The Hour). She brings in to this world three beautiful babies, whose fate is just like her mother- living traumatized in a world who sees them as an outsider.
“Time was fluid in the long list of past grievances.”
There are lots of layers to this story. Each event is evocative, and the sheer brutality of mankind is tested again and again. There are a lot of tiny, but very impactful details that build up the story leading to the final conclusion. Well, if there’s such a thing.
‘The Atlas of Reds and Blues’ begins where it ends and I keep wondering if the cycle of racism and abuse is the same. The story brought out a lot of emotions from within and every time this family suffered, it broke my heart a little. Every time people made vulgar assumptions about ‘The Mother’, it hit a nerve.
The author’s brilliant use of the evolution of Barbie dolls gives an added dimension to the story as it represents the notions for beauty and body color being followed by people for years.
‘The Atlas of Reds and Blues’ brings forth the troubles a human being has to go through because they are a person of color and the world isn’t as tolerant as it looks. The writing is ruthless and superbly defended. It comes from a place of pain and suffering, and that’s how the truth looks- terrifying and heartbreaking.
March 3, 2019
This was ok. I felt that there was too much going on...the whole thread about Barbie and about the main character as a child seemed to weigh down the rest of the story or the other threads.
I usually look forward to poets when they write a full-length book because they carry over the beauty of poetic language. I didn't find that here. The writing is solid....and I get the feeling she had a lot of personal messages (or experiences) that she wanted to express. It was a quick read but jarring at times because the multiple strands of information did not lead to a resolution or contribute to the overall package.
I usually look forward to poets when they write a full-length book because they carry over the beauty of poetic language. I didn't find that here. The writing is solid....and I get the feeling she had a lot of personal messages (or experiences) that she wanted to express. It was a quick read but jarring at times because the multiple strands of information did not lead to a resolution or contribute to the overall package.
February 12, 2019
A Powerful, Emotional and Beautifully Written Book!
This book is stunning! Inside and out! It grabbed me right from the beginning and didn't let go. Laskar has crafted a beautiful novel. Written in the most poetic prose she covers heavy subject matter, Racism, Stereotypes, Misogyny, Bullying and Police Brutality. This book is an emotional rollercoaster! As you watch a mother try so hard to raise her daughters and to be proud of who they are while they face unjustified harassment and bullying. It is completely heartbreaking but undoubtedly worth reading. This is such an important book. Reccomended reading!
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THANK YOU so much to the Publisher for gifting me this stunning finished copy!
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For more of my book content check out instagram.com/bookalong
This book is stunning! Inside and out! It grabbed me right from the beginning and didn't let go. Laskar has crafted a beautiful novel. Written in the most poetic prose she covers heavy subject matter, Racism, Stereotypes, Misogyny, Bullying and Police Brutality. This book is an emotional rollercoaster! As you watch a mother try so hard to raise her daughters and to be proud of who they are while they face unjustified harassment and bullying. It is completely heartbreaking but undoubtedly worth reading. This is such an important book. Reccomended reading!
•
THANK YOU so much to the Publisher for gifting me this stunning finished copy!
•
For more of my book content check out instagram.com/bookalong
December 27, 2018
The more I reflect on this book, the more I like it. Mother and her family live in Atlanta suburbia, and even though she is an American-born woman of Indian descent, she and her three girls are bullied and made to feel set apart in their neighborhood. Mother has married Her Hero, but he away on business and traveling the world so much that he is not aware of the issues his family faces, and quite honestly, it appears that if he did know, he still might not care.
Told in short chapters and snippets, the story jumps back and forth from present (policeman shoots Mother in her own driveway) to her past, to her children's pasts, to her hopes for her future in her own country. This would make a good bookclub discussion book.
Based on Advanced Reader Copy received from the publisher.
Told in short chapters and snippets, the story jumps back and forth from present (policeman shoots Mother in her own driveway) to her past, to her children's pasts, to her hopes for her future in her own country. This would make a good bookclub discussion book.
Based on Advanced Reader Copy received from the publisher.
May 18, 2024
One definitely cannot accuse Devi S. Laskar for wasting time. From the moment the reader opens the book we know the what is happening: a woman of Indian origin has her house surrounded by the police and has been shot in the process. As she is laying on the ground she is wondering how she managed to arrive at this sorry situation.
The rest of the book is a non chronological look at the narrator’s life and one prominent theme crops up : racism. The book is divided into page long snippets, all dealing with the problems she has encountered all her life due to her skin color; ranging from silent treatments, ignorant assumptions, rudeness to threats. Her children also go through the same problems. In one section her daughter has to fill out a questionnaire about her race and it leads to a lot of complexities, from both the teacher who hands out the paper to the daughter.
Aside from the non chronological page long snippets, Laskar also does not refer to the main characters by their names, rather like Anna Burns Milkman, most characters are called Mother, Middle Daughter, the Hero. The only prominent name is Greta, the German Shepherd. It works, if anything I think these stylistic traits complement the novel.
The main message of the book is that racism is still a problem in the U.S. and it’s regardless of race. There’s examples of African American characters being treated badly as well. The actual house invasion did happen to the author and as one is reading the book, one can feel her pain and anger at how skin color can hinder a person progressing in the U.S.
The Atlas of Red and Blues is a powerful novel. Never have I seen racial problems dealt with in such an open and blunt manner. There are subtle moments such as the chapters dealing with Barbie dolls but mostly the reader gets the message quickly. I’ve always said that when a novel creates an awareness then it has succeeded and Laskar definitely manages that with this novel.
Many thanks to Fleet for providing a requested copy of The Atlas of Reds and Blues in exchange for an honest review.
The rest of the book is a non chronological look at the narrator’s life and one prominent theme crops up : racism. The book is divided into page long snippets, all dealing with the problems she has encountered all her life due to her skin color; ranging from silent treatments, ignorant assumptions, rudeness to threats. Her children also go through the same problems. In one section her daughter has to fill out a questionnaire about her race and it leads to a lot of complexities, from both the teacher who hands out the paper to the daughter.
Aside from the non chronological page long snippets, Laskar also does not refer to the main characters by their names, rather like Anna Burns Milkman, most characters are called Mother, Middle Daughter, the Hero. The only prominent name is Greta, the German Shepherd. It works, if anything I think these stylistic traits complement the novel.
The main message of the book is that racism is still a problem in the U.S. and it’s regardless of race. There’s examples of African American characters being treated badly as well. The actual house invasion did happen to the author and as one is reading the book, one can feel her pain and anger at how skin color can hinder a person progressing in the U.S.
The Atlas of Red and Blues is a powerful novel. Never have I seen racial problems dealt with in such an open and blunt manner. There are subtle moments such as the chapters dealing with Barbie dolls but mostly the reader gets the message quickly. I’ve always said that when a novel creates an awareness then it has succeeded and Laskar definitely manages that with this novel.
Many thanks to Fleet for providing a requested copy of The Atlas of Reds and Blues in exchange for an honest review.
February 3, 2019
Beautiful, stunning! Readers unfamiliar with Leskar's previous work will immediately recognize that this debut novel is written by an accomplished poet. Written in a beautiful, lyrical style, this novel nevertheless covers difficult territory: the racism and abusive treatment experienced by a brown-skinned American woman born in a Southern town, and then moving later in life to an affluent Atlanta suburb. The novel opens with the protagonist, identified only as "Mother" to three young daughters, lying bleeding in her driveway after a violent, unjustified raid by the police, and then unfolds in a series of flashbacks to episodes from her childhood through teen years to adulthood. Everywhere she has to justify her existence, answer questions about where is she "really" from, defend her marital status or choice of snacks to rude store clerks, or deal with harassment from neighbors, employers and school teachers. Yet she shines through as a strong, resilient woman, trying to hold her family together and protect her daughters. A haunting portrayal of the persistent racism in modern-day America.
tbr-i-own
January 2, 2019 r.o. kwon wrote about this book in electric lit:
and it immediately struck me so poignantly that i almost cried. i can't wait to read it.
Kiese Laymon says about The Atlas of Reds and Blues that he’s “never read a novel that does nearly as much in so few pages,” and that the book is “as narratively beautiful as it is brutal.” This debut is about a woman, the American-born daughter of Bengali immigrants, who has been shot by the police and lies bleeding in her driveway.
and it immediately struck me so poignantly that i almost cried. i can't wait to read it.
June 26, 2019
Mother, the American-born daughter of Bengali immigrants is bleeding out in her driveway. She's been shot by the police.
As she lies bleeding, we are whisked through her flashes of thought, from her childhood Barbies, to her recently deceased dog Greta, her middle daughter's bullies, and much more.
This is a fantastic novel. By the time we get to the circumstances of the shooting, they are all the more tragic because we feel like we know Mother.
Another plus is the fact that the novel flies by. Each of Mother's scattered thoughts is its own "chapter," which leads to a ton of breaks in the narrative.
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