There’s a little live-blogging happening in this review as I work my way through the book. The book is very very good, oddly not nearly as depressingly sad as I thought it would be (though very depressingly sad), and much more complex, nuanced, intelligent and erudite than what I thought the book was going to be based on the description. Not to say that I didn’t think Toni Cade Bambara was capable of such a book, but I just didn’t realize that’s the book I […]
You’re on the porch with the broom sweeping the same spot, getting the same sound–dry straw against dry leaf caught in the loose-dirt crevice of cement tiles.
Those Bones are Not My Child by Toni Cade Bambara