My Soul Has Grown Deep Like The Rivers
In his poem, "The Negro Speaks of Rivers", the great African American poet Langston Hughes embodied black history with the words quoted in the title of this review. Langston Hughes, large bodies of water, and black history all figure prominently in this new eloquent memoir, "Triangular Road" by the African American novelist and short story writer, Paule Marshall (b. 1929). The recipient of both Guggenheim and MacArthur Fellowships, Marshall is best-known for her first novel "Brown Girl, Brownstone" and for a subsequent novel "Praisesong for the Widow." Her new book is based on a series of lectures that Marshall delivered at Harvard University in 2005 titled "Bodies of Water" that focused on the impact of rivers, seas, and oceans on black history and culture in the Americas.
Besides its broad depiction of African American history, Marshall's book tells her own story as a person and as a writer. The "Triangular Road" refers to three far-apart places that deeply influenced Marshall: Brooklyn, where she was born, Barbados, the birthplace of her mother and father, (and the Caribbean generally), and Africa. All three places receive personal characterizations from Marshall. These three places also capture Marshall's own view of herself. Near the end of her memoir, she writes:
"After all, my life as I saw it, was a thing divided in three: There was Brooklyn, U.S.A. and specifically the tight, little, ingrown immigrant world of Bajan Brooklyn that I had fled. Then, once I started writing, the Caribbean and its conga line of islands had been home off and on for any number of years. While all the time, lying in wait across the Atlantic, in a direct line almost with tiny wallflower Barbados, had been the Gulf of Guinea and the colossus of ancestral Africa, the greater portion of my tripartite self that I had yet to discover, yet to know."
Marshall describes a series of journeys over rivers, seas, and oceans that she took between 1965 and 1977. The journeys begin with a trip to Europe that she took under State Department auspices at the invitation of her mentor, Langston Hughes, whom Marshall describes as a "loving taskmaster, mentor, teacher, griot, literary sponsor, and treasured elder friend." Marshall offers an insightful portrayal of Hughes in his late years and a tribute to his importance as a friend and writer.
In a brief second section of the book, Marshall uses a Labor Day visit to a secluded spot along the James River in Richmond to meditate upon the long history of slavery, including the frequently fatal and always torturous ocean passages from Africa through the West Indies to colonial Virginia and the teeming slave markets in early Richmond. Marshall observes that "this particular holiday needs to be more inclusive in whom it acknowledges." Marshall is referring to the long and harsh history of slave labor in the United States which is frequently overlooked in thinking about labor during the American holiday of Labor Day.
In the lengthy third section of the book, Marshall describes her visit to Barbados, the home of her parents, and a subsequent visit to Granada. These visits serve as the source of further reflections on the role of the Caribbean Islands in the slave trade and of the life of immigrants, from the West Indies, such as Marshall's parents, in the United States. Marshall's father had been an illegal immigrant, and he abandoned his family in Brooklyn when Marshall was eleven years old. Marshall's mother tried to discourage her precocious daughter's intellectual and literary ambitions in favor of a job with the phone company. Marshall offers flashbacks of her early life and of her decision to become a writer. These descriptions have a strong feel of immediacy. Thus, Marshall describes how she first went to Barbados, with the encouragement of her editor, to shorten and revise the manuscript of what became her first novel. She learns that "writing is rewriting, is honing, pruning, refining, is becoming, essentially, one's own unsparing editor" On her trip to Grenada some years later, Marshall overcomes writer's block and learns how a novelist captures the heart of a historical experience through the use of the imagination and empathy rather than simply through a dry recitation of fact:: "Never let what really happened get in the way of the truth."
In the final section of the memoir, Marshall again crosses the ocean in 1977 for a trip to the Second World Festival of Black and African Arts held in Lagos, Nigeria in 1977. She meditates on the unity of black experience, for all its variety, and upon the need for a shared understanding and sense of forgiveness between Africans and black people living elsewhere for their respective historical roles in slavery. Marshall, at the age of 79, continues to write about her African experience with plans for further novels and stories to follow.
This is a beautiful intimately written short book which captures a great deal about a writer's life and about the "deep like the rivers" heart of a people.
Robin Friedman