serves as an exploration of the rather complicated nature of the relationship between mothers and daughters. chelene knight expertly details the want a daughter overwhelmingly feels when near her mother, the immediate defence of “she’s a different kind of mama” that shapes you in childhood, and the gradual acceptance in adulthood that whilst they will never change, the love you feel towards them, whilst darkened now, will always remain inside you.
additionally tells the story of what it means to be a black queer woman in a black and immigrant community in 1930s vancouver’s east end. witnessing a young junie begin to understand her feelings about women as opposed to men, the way her world brightens with colour as she accepts these feelings, was heartwarming. the love that enters her life, overdue from her childhood, creates a picture that is worth a thousand words.
junie is an artist. the way her world opens up with colours as she grows, which reflect in her artwork, and then in knight’s writing was masterful. the writing had a sense of lyricism attached to it. the flow, similar to the flow of the river junie once paints, felt at once both easy and soothing. beautiful is the only word that fits the words used, and sentences created, but that feels like an understatement. i fell in love with knight’s craft. i did not know of her before this, but what an introduction this was to her. i doubt she will ever read this, but if she does, i want her to truly understand just how talented she is. never have i ever read writing so beautiful, writing that so easily paints a picture of what and who it is trying to encapsulate. breathtaking at times, the writing will stay with me forever.
some of my favourite quotations, out of many highlighted pages, are as follows:
“Mama wraps her arm around me and pulls me close. She leans in and kisses me on the cheek. The sky’s stars fall into my lap. I wake with a jolt.”
“love. maybe it is honeyed and bright pink in hue. When I paint, I clench love. I hold on to the smallest piece of love and love sticks out from the bottom of my fist. Passersby try to lunge at love, try to steal love from between my small fingers. But oh, I am prepared now. I do not let go of love. I look up at the sky as the bright pink dims to purple then to midnight speckled with white. Glowing eyes. Then I go stargazing. I dip my brush in the paint. I raise my hands to the sky and let love loose.”
“i drink poetry. inhale it. I invent new colours, and I want the whole world to see them. For the first time, I can see the skyline lift above the East End. Beyond the mountains there’s a world bigger than me, and bigger than the tiny yet warm neighbourhood I’ve tethered myself to.”
“i can see my future. It’s not that far away. Maybe just behind the mountains. Or down the street. But I feel the weight of Mama’s palms pushing me into the ground, rooting me there. If I get plucked from the earth, I promise to fling seeds just past the coral ring of the setting sun.”
“The years sail by. I say again, the years sail by. One final gust sparks smoky grey as the last neon light burns out. The bristles of my brush dry into whispers. All my people tip their hats. A long goodbye whistles across the back of my neck.”
ultimately, this book is a love letter to the black lives within it; a celebration of their lives. it was an honour to be welcomed into them, and to celebrate them as they deserve.
the publication date is the 13th of september 2022. pre-order this. buy this. add it to your to-read list. request a copy. love this. share this with friends and family alike. it is worth every penny, and every minute you will spend reading it.
thank you to netgalley and book*hug press publications for the arc.