I could never truly immerse myself in the flow of Paradise for an extended period. The narrative was disjointed, broken up in a jagged manner across time and presented from dozens of different perspectives. The numerous and intricately (or sometimes barely) related characters left me thoroughly confused. Morrison even introduced new characters right up until the very last pages. It felt as if I needed a spreadsheet to keep track of who everyone was, which was quite tiresome.

Moreover, what precisely occurred in the story? Morrison was deliberately vague yet hinted at miraculous events. The sexy balladry added another layer of confusion for me.

However, there were some redeeming qualities. The compelling characters and the all-black Oklahoma town managed to make this novel somewhat bearable. Additionally, the exploration of intriguing themes such as men oppressing women, greed, the conflict between the young and the elders, and the abused becoming the abuser was thought-provoking. Unfortunately, the witchy women trope reared its ugly head, which was a bit of a disappointment. Overall, it is an admirable and experimental work, but it makes for an extremely demanding read that I would not recommend for most readers.

So, here I arrive at the later Morrison.

Since my introduction to the arts was through rock music, which adheres to Neil Young's "better to burn out than to fade away" as gospel, I wrongly believed that artists deteriorate with age. I thought they had a huge creative outburst at the start of their career and then lost it all. Ironically, this doesn't apply to Young himself, who still releases gems like Ragged Glory or Prairie Wind. Nor does it apply to other musicians like Beethoven and Miles Davis, who produced major works late in their artistic development. Filmmakers also take time to mature, and I've realized that novelists don't reach their prime until at least their thirties.

Yet, I was still reluctant to approach the more recent Toni Morrison. Maybe it was because she made her name with that initial creative burst that gave us The Bluest Eye, Song of Solomon, and Beloved. Those were profound, disturbing, and often beautiful works that exposed and discussed America's problems. However, Jazz was a letdown for me. The descriptions of jazz were great, but the main plot seemed like a rehash of Song of Solomon. So, I thought post-Beloved Morrison was a shadow of her former self.

Well, I was wrong. After seeing "they shoot the white girl first" on so many lists of great first lines, I had to check out the book. That sentence's reputation was so great that I concluded Morrison's "big three" was actually a "big four" or maybe even a "big five" if you count Sula. This makes me wonder what Harold Bloom was thinking when he excluded Morrison from his "greatest living authors" list. Bloom's talk of political correctness killing everything shows that Morrison's vision is right. This is probably the most overtly feminist novel from Morrison, perhaps after The Bluest Eye. In it, a group of women form their own community that faces increasing suspicion from the local all-black community.

But there's more to it than that. There's tension between these women too. In Morrison's universe, the more people isolate themselves, the more they end up hating each other and the less able they are to deal with their differences. It makes me wonder if these characters should reintegrate with the communities they've abandoned or if they're better off in isolation. This is some real stuff, and if you're going to say "just write a pamphlet if you want to make a point," look at what she does to these characters. Toni delves into their stories and reveals a haunted group of women who were promised much but given little. The men are also treated with an odd sort of sympathy.

A titanic work in three hundred pages. It may not have the same "everything's-possible" feeling as Song of Solomon, but it's still an amazing book. Harold Bloom can go jump in a lake.

Paradise served as a powerful impetus that pushed me to work extremely hard. However, Toni Morrison, who penned two of my all-time favorite books, is an author I have absolute faith in. I firmly believed that delving into Paradise would be worthwhile, and indeed it was. This remarkable book has the ability to completely submerge you within its pages. As you painstakingly wade through the intricate details, you become so engrossed that you lose all sense of the outside world. But then, when you finally have the opportunity to reflect, you come to the realization that this book will remain with you long after you have finished reading it. It leaves an indelible mark on your mind and heart, and its profound themes and masterful storytelling will continue to resonate within you for a long time to come.

The floor creaks ominously under your feet as you cautiously step inside the abandoned building. Cobwebs dance in the corners, gently swayed by a soft breeze that filters through the broken windows. The musty smell assaults your nose, instantly making you realize that this place has been forsaken for years. You slowly walk through the rooms, your mind fills with vivid imaginations of what might have transpired within these walls. You hear faint laughter echoing in the air, and you can almost detect the lingering hint of seasonings embedded in the walls of the run-down kitchen. But then, a blood-curdling sound pierces the silence... screams.

Toni truly has a remarkable way with words. Her masterful use of vivid descriptions effortlessly drew me into this captivating story and held my attention firmly throughout.

"Paradise" transports you to the charming yet mysterious tiny town of Ruby, where you'll encounter a vast array of characters. At first, it was a bit overwhelming for me, with so many characters to meet and get to know. However, if you stay focused on the individual stories, you'll be able to clearly envision the characters and place them appropriately within the narrative.

Ruby boasts a rich and deep history, and the town takes great pride in holding onto that heritage... for the most part. The convent, though, seems to be a source of contention. The men in the town have a problem with the women at the convent and desire to eliminate its presence from the area.

A plethora of events unfold in this book, and I relished every single page!

Although this book may be decades old, I wholeheartedly recommend picking it up! It provided me with great entertainment.

TW: Abortion, Murder, Alcohol Abuse, Discrimination/Racism, Death of a Loved One/Child.

3.5, even.

I truly enjoyed the plot, the writing style, and the profound messages that were embedded within the story. However, when it comes to the structure, I have to admit that it just wasn't for me.

Ordinarily, I don't have any issues with non-linear storytelling. In fact, I find an element of fun in piecing together the puzzle. But in this case, it was made needlessly difficult by the countless unnamed points of view (POVs). This left the readers not only struggling to figure out what was happening, when, and where, but also who was doing what.

I understand that there is room for passages or even entire books with a minimal plot. However, there needs to be a delicate balance between telling a story and conveying one's own personal philosophy. Unfortunately, the way in which this balance was achieved in "Paradise" simply didn't align with my tastes.

Nevertheless, I will definitely be giving Toni Morrison's work another try. I firmly believe that every author has their unique style and approach, and perhaps I will find a different piece of her work that will resonate with me on a deeper level.

The story commences in 1976.

A group of men is making their way towards the Convent, a renovated mansion located on the outskirts of Ruby, Oklahoma. Their malicious intent is directed towards the women residing there.

The narrative then diverges to follow a diverse set of seemingly unrelated characters.

When these individual stories are pieced together, they form a cohesive whole.

We discover the history of the founding of the all-black town and the construction of the Oven, a central hub for food preparation that holds significant symbolic value.

We also learn about the backstories of the women in the Convent, their arrivals, and the reasons for their stay.

The patriarchal society blames these "wayward" women for leading the town's younger generation astray.

Although it is technically part of a trilogy that includes Beloved and Jazz, it can be read independently.

A brief summary fails to fully capture its essence.

As in many of Morrison's novels, it delves into themes such as women's issues, racial conflict, social structure, and psychology.

It offers a commentary on the gender discrimination that prevailed within black communities during the Civil Rights Movement.

There are numerous interwoven storylines, critiques of American history, and spiritual allusions.

It is a well-crafted, complex, and intellectually stimulating work.

Reading a novel by Toni Morrison is truly an act of faith. She has extremely high demands on both her language and her readers. However, when that faith is rewarded, the impact is simply stunning.

In "Paradise", her first novel after winning the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1993, she has crafted a story that is bound to generate a great deal of feminist appraisal. This novel may not reach the emotional peaks of her best early works, but in a sense, it is more articulate than her rich and exhausting "Beloved" (1987). Oprah Winfrey has already chosen it as the next selection for her TV book club.

Reminiscent of Zora Neale Hurston's "Their Eyes Were Watching God" (1937), "Paradise" delves into the residual effects of racism on the relationships among blacks, rather than between blacks and whites. The book begins explosively with the first shot of a grisly assault on a women's commune by the leading citizens of the isolated town of Ruby, Okla.

Between that attack, set in 1976, and the book's conclusion just a few weeks later, Morrison stirs the long history of this mythical all-black community like a witch's brew. Racism serves as the backdrop against which all the events unfold, distorting values and fueling the paranoia that ultimately leads the conflicted men to murder the women they believe are responsible for the town's decline.

In a series of swirling chapters, each named after a different woman, the author weaves together the beautiful and the horrible, the past and the present. Forged in the fires of white racism and black rejection, the founders of Ruby constructed a paradise of stability and safety, completely detached from the rest of the world, in 1949.

They built their homes and lives around a giant stone oven "that both nourished them and monumentalized what they had done." Inevitably, the oven cools and this monument to their grandfathers' achievement becomes irrelevant.

Some citizens find the possibility of change exciting, but the town leaders have their identities and fortunes tied to the status quo. For them, Ruby is in a state of moral and physical decay, which can only be cured by a radical rededication to its founding principles.

Tragically, the drive to rid themselves of impurity gradually demonizes the odd group of women living outside the town in an abandoned convent.

Much of the novel chronicles the sad and sometimes shocking ordeals these young women endured in a misogynist world before finally finding this haven of their own.

If Alice Walker's "The Color Purple" (1982) romanticized the harmonious culture of women in opposition to the contentious world of men, "Paradise" emphasizes that theme in bold italics. But Morrison is less focused on condemning the brutal and self-centered men in her novel than on examining the way a history of instability has made these men fear the creative and unorthodox power of women.

At the center of the abandoned convent is the matriarchal Connie, whose doctrine of universal acceptance and unqualified compassion offers solace to the women. With a strange blend of mysticism, witchcraft, and Christianity, Connie represents a radical alternative to the town fathers' entrenched xenophobia.

The large number of characters and the complex history of Ruby present significant practical and emotional challenges for the reader. The intertwined genealogy of the nine founding patriarchs creates a family tree as intimidating as a street map of Los Angeles. Although it can sometimes be difficult to feel a connection to the individuals in this whirlwind of names, the overall effect is both bewildering and enchanting, leaving a lasting impression.

http://www.csmonitor.com/1998/0129/01...

I didn't pen down my review of this book immediately. The reason being, I was still grappling with precisely how I felt about it. It was an extremely challenging read. Around the halfway mark, I took to the internet to peruse other readers' perspectives on it.

It seemed that people either adored it or loathed it. Those who loved it had read it not just once, but two or three times. They also delved into numerous interviews with the author, where she expounded on her themes, all in an attempt to fathom its depth. While I am open to exploring profound meanings within a book, it must first be engaging on the surface. Regrettably, this one simply wasn't. At times, it came across as pretentious and was constantly elusive. Any element that might have potentially made the story captivating was merely hinted at and never fully elucidated.

The very first sentence of the book, "They shot the white woman first," in a novel centered around skin color, I believe, is emblematic of the entire style. The reader is left to decipher on their own which woman is white, right up until the very last couple of pages.

I was determined to finish it, and out of sheer stubbornness, I did.

I wanted to despise it, yet I didn't. I also wanted to cherish it, but that didn't happen either.

I truly believe that I would require reading this piece approximately ten additional times in order to fully grasp all the intricate details and appropriately appreciate each and every character.

It is simply stunning. The level of complexity and depth within these pages is truly remarkable. Each character seems to come alive, with their own unique personalities, motives, and stories.

It's as if they are real people, existing within the confines of this written world. I find myself completely immersed, eager to uncover every little nuance and hidden meaning.

This work has truly left a lasting impression on me, and I know that with each subsequent reading, I will discover something new and wonderful.

Typical Morrison. Firstly, her works often explore sexism and colorism within a historical context. She delves deep into the past to uncover the systemic inequalities and prejudices that have shaped the lives of women and people of color. By doing so, she provides a powerful critique of society's unjust structures.

Secondly, Morrison incorporates elements of folk and new-age religiosity into her writing. This adds an extra layer of depth and mystery to her stories, as she weaves together different spiritual beliefs and practices. It also allows her to explore themes such as faith, redemption, and the search for meaning in life.

Finally, Morrison is known for her unique writing style and use of literary devices. She often prioritizes style and devices over traditional narrative and character development. This results in a rich and complex body of work that challenges readers to think deeply about the nature of language, storytelling, and the human experience.

Not going to leave a rating on this one because I’m DNF-ing at 64%.

From the very first chapter of Paradise, I struggled with the writing style and felt completely lost. There were brief moments of clarity, only to be followed by confusion once again. Morrison's writing is highly intricate, and the story unfolds at a deliberate pace.

The novel's nonlinear structure, shifting between past and present, is both a unique and challenging stylistic choice. While I can appreciate the ambition behind it, I often found myself grappling to follow the narrative. The constant timeline shifts, combined with a large cast of characters, made it difficult to maintain full engagement. I frequently lost track of who was who, which became a significant obstacle to enjoying the book.

Despite these difficulties, Paradise is undeniably rich in symbolism and delves deeply into themes of gender oppression and the systemic exploitation and abuse of women. These are powerful and important topics, but the disjointed storytelling prevented me from fully connecting with them. I ultimately decided not to finish the book at 64% because I simply wasn't enjoying the experience.

That being said, I did read chapter summaries for the remaining sections and can see how Morrison's vision comes together in the end. I just wish the story had been presented in a more linear and accessible manner. I think I would have enjoyed it much more if that were the case.

Even though Paradise wasn't to my taste, I still have great admiration for Morrison's writing and will definitely read more of her work. Who knows? Maybe I'll give this one another chance someday.

SO SO SO GOOD. Honestly, I think this is my favorite Toni Morrison book that I've read so far. The way she weaves together multiple storylines is truly masterful. It's like a complex tapestry where each thread adds to the beauty and depth of the whole. The use of magical realism in the narrative makes it even more enchanting. It blurs the boundaries between the real and the fantastical, creating a world that is both familiar and otherworldly. And then there's the theme of found family, which is so heartwarming and relatable. It shows that family isn't always about blood relations, but about the people who come into our lives and make it meaningful. What more could one ask for in a book? It has everything: great storytelling, unique characters, and powerful themes. I can't wait to read more of Toni Morrison's work.