I adored every single aspect of this work. The prose was of an exceptionally high caliber, with its detailed descriptions of household items and garments, and the intricate portrayal of feminine interiority. The writing was astonishingly precise, lush, and sensorial, filled with the slow destruction of existential feminine despair that brought to mind the novels of Jean Rhys. There was a subtle movement not only in the setting or plot but also on a psychic level. Her characters were women teetering on the edge.

I was particularly fond of Helga Crane, with her "urge for beauty," her longing to cultivate beautiful clothes and a beautiful home, and her exhausting search for her identity. The prose in "Quicksand" was exquisite. For example, "Evening died. A sweet smell of early Southern flowers rushed in on a newly risen breeze which suddenly parted the thin silk curtains at the opened windows. A slender, frail glass vase fell from the sill with a tingling crash, but Helga Crane did not shift her position. And the night grew cooler, and older."
Helga's desire for beautiful things was revealed to be something deeper, not just money but the things that money could buy. Desire became metaphysical. As Helga travels through Harlem and Copenhagen, the narrative becomes a map of existential alienation. She is both a participant and a witness in the ecstatic spectacle, yet ultimately is not saved from her spiritual quest.
If the material of "Quicksand" is desire, then the material of "Passing" is shadow. It is a darker, tenser, and more psychologically intense novel, and equally sharp. Clare is a luminous and uncanny presence who disrupts Irene's tightly managed domestic sphere. She is dazzling, enigmatic, and what Irene doesn't know about Clare haunts her. There is an apparent danger in her crossing of boundaries. Clare becomes a kind of double or doppelgänger for Irene, and the relationship between these two women is full of projection as Clare destabilizes Irene's cherished sense of security. The story is rich in subtext, overflowing with the danger of repressed desire threatening to surface. Irene needs security, "the most important and desired thing in life," but in the psychic tension between these two women, a precarious dissociation of order arises.
These novels offer a fascinating look into the contradictions of identity for women, showing how selfhood and the formation of identity are shaped and restricted by race, gender, and religion. There is such genius in the subtle illumination, in the emotionally rich, careful, and lingering images.

They provide a profound exploration of the complex and often painful experiences of women in a society that imposes multiple constraints on their lives.

The detailed and nuanced characterizations bring these women to life, making the reader empathize with their struggles and understand the forces that drive them.

Overall, these novels are a testament to the author's skill and insight, and a valuable contribution to the literature on women's identity and experience.

Alas, this author did not receive her due at the time she was actively writing.

It is truly a pity. Just imagine how her creative voice and unique experiences could have been nurtured if, instead of being seen as a mere novelty, she had been championed, encouraged, actively edited, and promoted.

In such a more supportive environment, would she have continued writing beyond this initial phase? Alas, we shall never know.

But now, it is incumbent upon all of us to do better. We must actively recognize, promote, and support authors in their infancy.

By doing so, we can help them grow into the authors we cherish and who will go on to create great works that enrich our literary landscape.

Let us not repeat the mistakes of the past and ensure that every budding author has the opportunity to thrive and reach their full potential.

This edition was truly excellent.

It not only provided some introductory biographical information about Larsen, which was very helpful for those of us who had never heard of this author before, but also offered some interpretations of her works included in the collection.

The stories I read were vibrant and moving. For example, “The Wrong Man” was a brief yet powerful little snippet of a larger picture that ended with quite a shock.

The short stories “Freedom” and “Sanctuary” were interesting, although they did not impact me as deeply as some of the others.

Of the two longer stories, “Passing” and “Quicksand,” I found both to be engaging. However, I enjoyed “Passing” a bit more.

The heroine of “Quicksand” is constantly off-balance, always running towards someplace else where she feels she will belong. By the time the end was reached, I was frankly tired of her restlessness.

On the other hand, “Passing” had a lot going on. It included a number of kinds of passing, thoughts on the good and bad of passing, and complex, richly developed characters.

There were lots of important ideas in all of these stories, giving me much to think about. This was a great work that I would highly recommend reading slowly, taking the time to think about and savor the themes and ideas.

Wow, what a life of work!

I think it's highly advantageous to read an author's work back to back while also considering the context of their life, especially when their work is very closely autobiographical. The progression of the authorial voice from story to story is truly a pleasure to observe.

From Larsen's own life to her consistent thematic considerations of the race problem, double consciousness, colorism, marriage - specifically the horror of marriage - and the masterful way her stories unfold as the drama reaches its climax, it's all fantastic. I picked up this work in anticipation of the upcoming Netflix adaptation, and boy, from the discussions on Twitter, it's clear that Larsen's work will always be relevant. Even without the explosion of discourse when the trailer dropped, it still would be. There are many scholarly observations that have been perused for classroom instruction, and she has succinctly and vividly condensed them here in her work. She has truly captured, at least in three distinct ways, the terror of keeping secrets in marriage, the strange but ubiquitous social, psychological, and emotional effects of the concept of race that dogs us all whether we like it or not, and the internal fright of how disillusionment and discontent can tear someone apart over and over again. 5/5 stars.

After watching the outstanding and well-cast Netflix movie version of Nella Larsen's novella, Passing, I was immediately compelled to read the story.

Having read it, I can only come to the conclusion that Passing is a highly original and entertaining masterpiece in terms of style, characterization, plot, and subtle ambiguity. Published in 1929 during the Harlem Renaissance, Larsen's novella vividly portrays the complex relationship between two black women. Irene, the wife of a doctor, and Clare, a fair-skinned negro who has taken advantage of her white appearance to marry an unknowing racist businessman.

Perhaps even more fascinating than the story itself is the life that author Nella Larsen led. She was born to a white woman and a black man. Her mother remarried a white man, and although the details of Larsen's childhood are somewhat unclear, it seems that she was rejected by them. The main character of her story, Quicksand, also experienced a similar rejection. Nella became a nurse and didn't actually publish her first stories until she was almost 30.

The two novellas and three short stories in this 275-page collection, which represents the sum total of Larsen's output, are all about African-American characters. They are carefully drawn, real people living in the racist America of the 1920s. After the publication of her last story, Sanctuary, Larsen was accused of plagiarism. She attempted to publish a few other novels (I truly wish I could obtain copies), but they were rejected, perhaps not necessarily solely because of the plagiarism accusation. She then returned to nursing and never wrote another word. I can't help but wonder what wonderful works of art the world of literature has lost.

Nella Larsen's slim volume contains her entire written output, but for me, her 1929 novella "Passing" stands out. I was underwhelmed by her earlier works like "Quicksand" and the short stories due to her tendency to "tell" rather than "show." The result was a bundle of theoretical circumstances without a real evocation of place or character. However, "Passing" changed my opinion. Larsen's preoccupation with the protagonist's psychology is complemented by vivid depictions of Harlem and its upper-middle-class black culture. Her prose is more limber and creates sinister undercurrents. The novella centers around the relationship between Irene Redfield and Clare Kindry, two old school friends who meet again. Irene, a middle-class Negro, is scandalized by Clare's decision to pass as white. One interesting aspect is Irene's own relationship with passing. Despite being light-skinned and sometimes passing for white herself, she is outraged by Clare's choice. This shows her complex morality and internalized messaging around race. The novella explores the anxieties and ambivalences of race and sexuality in early 20th century Harlem in a fascinating and ultimately tragic way.

This is an excellent read,

particularly the two novels. The short stories, however, don't quite stand out for me.

When I read the two novels back to back, I did notice some repetitions and stylistic choices that I found a bit annoying.

This was something I hadn't noticed when I read "Passing" for the first time.

Nevertheless, these minor drawbacks are overshadowed by the complexity of the characters and the wonderful observations about identity and belonging.

The writing has a modern feel and remains highly relevant.

I truly wish that more of her writing had been published.

It would be fascinating to explore further the depths of her literary talent and the unique perspectives she offers.

Overall, this collection is a valuable addition to any literature lover's library.

Nella Larsen, a prominent writer of the Harlem Renaissance in the 1920s, delved deep into the arduous struggles faced by mixed-raced or light-skinned African-Americans in early 20th-century America. She utilized this renowned black cultural era as the backdrop for her two novels, "Quicksand" and "Passing".

I purchased this book with the intention of reading both of these works, and I was far from disappointed.

Both novels not only met but exceeded my expectations of what true writing should entail. The prose in both books was characterized by its simplicity and grace. The main characters, especially the glamorous and wily Clare in "Passing", introduced to us in a letter in chapter 1, were beautiful and complex women. The pacing of the prose was tight and perceptive. The main characters in the books, Helga, Irene, and Clare, found themselves suffocating due to the choices they made, choices that were in response to white supremacy, racism, and elitism. These were beautiful, sensitive, and creative souls who were deprived of honest routes to achieving the American Dream.

I have a deep affection for Larsen's writing style. It is truly stylish for the 1920s, and remarkably, it still translates extremely well even 100 years later.

Whoa! I just had a realization that there is a whole century separating us.

I often find myself hesitating when it comes to reading classics. This is because it can sometimes take a while to get into the rhythm and mindset of that particular time period.

However, despite this, Larsen's work has managed to capture my attention. There was one story where I didn't quite like how it ended, but that's just my personal preference.

Nonetheless, she still deserves five stars! Her writing is engaging, her characters are well-developed, and her stories have a timeless quality that makes them relevant even today.

I look forward to reading more of her work and exploring the world she has created.

This book was so raw and uncut that I personally felt an incredibly strong connection to Helga Crane.

She has a past, and she is striving not to let that past dictate her future. However, as we all know, this is much easier said than done.

In a world where she feels she simply does not belong, she tries as hard as she possibly can to make her way through.

Regardless of race or what color we are, I'm sure all of us have experienced trouble when it comes to feeling as if we do not belong or trying to "get in" as they say, to find a place where we can fit in.

Helga's struggle is a universal one, and it makes us reflect on our own experiences of trying to find our place in this often confusing and unforgiving world.

It is through her story that we can gain a deeper understanding of the human condition and the challenges we all face in our quest for acceptance and belonging.

Nella Larsen's novella Passing initially elicited a moderate admiration from me, but this proved to be rather short-lived.

Accompanied by her other published fiction, which included three short stories and a second novella, Quicksand, I decided to read those selections afterwards.

The first aspect that caught my attention was how extensively Larsen seemed to draw from The Wrong Man and, to a lesser degree, Freedom in creating Passing. While there's nothing inherently wrong with authors revisiting their earlier works, with only five works to her name, it did lead to a certain lack of variety.

The second, and more disappointing, revelation came when I read the phrase "1930 Accused of plagiarism" in the short Chronology at the end of the volume. My initial assumption was that a light-skinned Black woman had achieved notoriety due to her talent and was then falsely accused to undermine her success. Alas, I wish that assumption had held true.

Sadly, it turns out that Nella Larsen did not merely borrow from herself. Quicksand was a faithful reworking of a short story published by Sheila Kaye-Smith eight years earlier, and the opening of Sanctuary was a similarly modified version of a passage originally penned by John Galsworthy in his short story The First and Last.

Despite all this, I still maintain the view that Passing is very good. However, I'm now left wondering just how much of its quality can be attributed to Larsen herself and how much stems from uncredited sources.

3.5 stars.

Nella Larsen, a prominent writer and personality of the Harlem Renaissance, has penned some remarkable short stories that I was truly delighted to discover.

Although the style and language of the 1920s may seem a bit dated in today's context, her voice and characters come alive vividly from their interesting historical settings. In that era, having a light skin could potentially grant entry to a white world of privilege, but it was also accompanied by not a little self-loathing, fear, and the specter of social suicide related to the practice of "passing." The central female characters in these stories are all light-skinned, beautiful, and middle-class.

Take Helga Crane, for example. Her story closely resembles Nella Larsen's own Danish/African American parentage. Helga is a school teacher who, by virtue of her education and appearance, could probably join the upper-middle class. However, she feels angry, restless, resentful, and excluded from belonging to any social or racial group or class. Despite her efforts to find a place of her own in any social setting, she is unsuccessful. She desires to be accepted for who she truly is, rather than being seen as an exotic creature or through false pretenses of class associations that feel inauthentic. Ultimately, her hopes and dreams are subsumed by literal suicide, as she endures a life of drudgery, childbearing, and the narrow social confines of rural poverty and a religion that fails to bring lasting solace.

Nella Larsen's women are constantly seeking agency and authenticity in a time and place where such autonomy is severely restricted. The 1920s world was strictly segregated, and even the lively Harlem scene seemed to consist mostly of people of color, with only a few touristic non-whites who came with suspect motives. Larsen's characters speculate about some of their intentions, but they are mostly unknown and uninteresting to the larger African-American culture.

"Passing" delves into the feelings of Irene, a well-to-do woman married to a Harlem doctor. It is interesting to note that she takes mini-vacations from the constraints of Harlem by dressing up and going downtown to take tea in fancy hotels and department stores, where her light skin allows her to "pass" for a time and enjoy illicit privileges denied to her darker sisters. She is horrified when she discovers that her childhood friend is actually married to a white racist who is unaware of her African blood. This represents a different and dangerous level of "passing" that both frightens and repels Irene. Irene's husband also feels trapped in his duties as a Harlem physician, confronted daily with the poverty and disease of Harlem's less fortunate. He longs to escape to Brazil, which symbolizes his dream of a less race-defined culture. Irene fears her husband's deepest wish for escape, while simultaneously trying to control and direct his energy and attention elsewhere, much like she fears her friend's "passing" mode of escape and attempts to manage their friendship despite the associated risks. Inevitably, both Irene and her husband are drawn to this other woman who represents danger and escape, a widening of possibilities laced with fear and peril. And, of course, it doesn't have a happy ending.

Nella Larsen explores various themes such as class, race, color, social and sexual relationships, with a longing for authenticity and a keen eye for pretense and hypocrisy. Her lucid observations fascinate the reader and offer valuable insights into her time. I truly wish she had written more than these few brief stories, as she had so much to say about her era that still captivates and provides profound understanding for thoughtful readers today.