I vividly remember the day when Toni Morrison read from this book in a bookstore in Brooklyn upon its release. It was truly a magical experience. The atmosphere in the bookstore was filled with anticipation and excitement as people gathered to listen to the renowned author. Morrison's words seemed to come alive, captivating the audience and transporting them into the world of the story.

However, as much as I enjoyed this book, it is not my absolute favorite among Toni Morrison's works. Nevertheless, it is still a wonderful story, rich with music and life. The characters are well-developed, and the plot weaves a tapestry of emotions and experiences.

If you're interested in exploring all of Toni Morrison's amazing work, check out the list here and vote for your favorite!

Also, don't miss Fino's Toni Morrison reviews. You can find reviews of some of her most notable books such as The Bluest Eye, Sula, Song Of Solomon, Tar Baby, Beloved, Jazz, and Paradise.

This review is truly a testament to the power of Toni Morrison's work. While I still wholeheartedly agree with it, it's important to note that the audiobook is abridged and missing many lovely paragraphs. So, I ended up reading the paperback again. However, the audiobook is still an absolute delight.

The story moved me from start to finish. I listened to it on audiobook out of necessity, as it was the only option available at the library. When I heard Morrison's voice narrating, I was completely transfixed. I walked around the park for an hour, completely immersed in the story, paying no attention to anything around me. Her cadence and the way she whispered life into each of these complex characters made every word feel purposeful and smooth.

I must admit that I don't fully understand this book. I read a summary afterwards to ensure I got it right, but I'm still not sure. It spans generations, has an omniscient narrator, and a cast of about 10 characters whose voices it seamlessly moves in and out of. This complexity can be confusing, but while listening, I just let it all go. I love the unexpected friendships that emerge and the histories that get unraveled. I can really feel the care Morrison put into this work. I do feel that Dorcas was short-changed in this, and I look forward to discussing it further.

I cannot praise the audiobook enough. I think this is a work that I will have to continue revisiting to fully appreciate its complexity, but I really loved the experience of listening to it.

Toni Morrison is a renowned author who crafted a remarkable trilogy that delves deep into African-American history, traversing three pivotal periods. The first book, the brilliant Beloved, is set during the era of slavery.

The third book, Paradise, which I haven't read yet, I believe is set around the 50s.

And then there's Jazz, which focuses on the Harlem Renaissance. This particular period and place are of great excitement to me.

However, my main issue with Jazz is that it doesn't actually spend a significant amount of time in Harlem during the 20s. Morrison seems more interested in the Great Migration, the process that led to the influx of black people into Harlem in the first place. To me, it all feels a bit too anthropological.

I did like the central story, which involves a man killing his mistress and then his wife showing up to disrupt the mistress's funeral. But unfortunately, I kept getting pulled away from this engaging narrative as everyone felt the need to tell their origin stories.

Moreover, Morrison has two habits that I'm not too fond of: postmodernism and corniness. These traits are overly indulged in Jazz, and as a result, this isn't my favorite Morrison work.

Toni Morrison's books are truly captivating, much like a box of delicious cookies that you simply can't resist having just one.

This particular work is the second book in the beloved trilogy. After reading "Beloved," I felt compelled to continue with this one, at least in theory, to do the "right thing." However, a part of me wished I could be more unconventional and read them out of order.

Similar to "Beloved," this book delves into the consequences of a profound act of violence among those who are close. It offers a unique perspective and writing style that requires effort on the reader's part to fully understand and appreciate the rewards. Nevertheless, unlike "Beloved," the inspiration behind this book, which is the titular jazz, and its characters didn't quite resonate with me. Given how much I adored its predecessor, this one was always going to be a bit of a hard sell.

But, in a way, that's a good problem to have. It shows the depth and diversity of Morrison's work.

In conclusion, I can only say: more Toni Morrison, please. I can't wait to explore more of her literary masterpieces.

Toni Morrison's "Jazz" delves deep into the complex realm of couple-love, with romantic love intertwined with the driving force of jazz. Morrison didn't settle for a mere musical backdrop or decorative nods to it. Instead, she aimed to present the "manifestation of the music's intellect, sensuality, anarchy; its history, its range, and its modernity" within a book where "the structure would equal meaning". The way the basic story is told makes all the difference. The narrative tonally shifts and changes viewpoints, embodying the very essence of the jazz genre - vivid self-expression, an ensemble of voices, stories, and histories. We witness a constant contrast between rural and urban life, highlighting one's wants and opportunities. With a change in location, relationships and love also transform. As is typical of Morrison, the novel encompasses a diverse range of characters. While Violet and Joe are central, they aren't always the sole focus as the world and people around them are richly developed. The omniscient narrator, too, purposefully adds complexity. The style is engaging, and the story is substantial, yet it sometimes stumbles, demanding more time and space to fully unfold. Nevertheless, it's an astonishing exploration of the need for reciprocity.

"I told you again that you were the reason Adam ate the apple and its core. That when he left Eden, he left a rich man. Not only did he have Eve, but he had the taste of the first apple in the world in his mouth for the rest of his life. The very first to know what it was like. To bite it, bite it down. Hear the crunch and let the red peeling break his heart."

Not quite a true 4 stars, but boy does Toni Morrison know how to end a story.

(I felt this way about her novel, Love, too, which I read a couple years ago). She’ll reveal some detail that breaks open the heart of the story in a way that reaches across the divide of the specific people in time and place (here, a group of neighbors in 1926 Harlem) and into the well we share, the well that makes us human.

Her endings also shed light on all that came before, causing me to reimagine the events and characters in her story with a fuller sense of truth. She’s like a goddess of the heart, which takes true intelligence, along with guts: the guts to be vulnerable, and then to explore so deeply, and with such honesty, that the simplicity of it is beauty itself.

It is purity and clarity and love and strength all at the same time. It is pain and sorrow, and it is the acknowledgement of how far people can go — in both the damage of and the propping up of another being — when they love. Love, in her world, can kill you, and oh how that resonates for me right now.

This is the story of a love triangle, and ultimately, a marriage. No one ever really knows what goes on between two people, and marriage is one of the most complex relationships we’ll ever know.

This marriage is full of unique nuances, ones that expose another way to be. I felt like Morrison had me gawking and laughing at first from a distance, and then drew me closer and closer until I understood others, and then recognized us all.

Morrison's writing is a masterclass in storytelling. She weaves a tale that is both captivating and thought-provoking. The characters are so vividly drawn that they seem to leap off the page.

The love triangle at the center of the story is both passionate and tragic, and Morrison explores the complex emotions and motives of each character with great skill.

The marriage that results from the love triangle is equally complex, and Morrison shows how the relationship evolves over time, through both joy and pain.

Overall, this is a powerful and moving story that will stay with you long after you've finished reading it. It's a testament to Morrison's talent as a writer and her ability to touch the hearts of her readers.

Over the past few years, it took me a total of five attempts to embark on this literary adventure. Each time I picked up the book, I was filled with anticipation and a sense of determination. But for various reasons, I would put it down before reaching the end. However, this time, I was finally able to complete it. And let me tell you, it was well worth the wait. I absolutely love this book. It has been an amazing journey, filled with emotions, insights, and unforgettable moments. The characters came alive on the pages, and I found myself completely immersed in their world. I can't wait to share this wonderful experience with others.

The young here don't seem so young, and midlife doesn't seem to exist. Morrison is one of the authors I followed for a while and then stopped for no obvious reason. Part of it might be that there are so many unread names on my shelves that have been waiting for too long. So, going back to something I've already liked more than once often seems too self-indulgent. But when there's a lot of material and opportunities come up regularly, it can be hard to resist. Morrison still has a mix of status quo adulation and modern worth, fitting well into my classics challenges and personal persuasions.

Nine years after reading the first book in Morrison's Beloved trilogy, I picked this one up because it fit in many ways. A lot has changed since I last immersed myself in her style. These days, I know more and feel less. Or maybe it's better to say I try to know before I feel. There's a lot to like in this text that combines the living and the dying with the art they produce, without the self-conscious "good representation" sneer that plagues modern evaluations. But there's also a lack of structure in character, plot, and narration that I don't think was fully resolved in less than 300 pages. I may lower the rating later, but I need to explore this further.

I wonder if I would have had mixed feelings about this book if I'd read it five or six years earlier. How much of my reaction is due to professional experience and how much is a lack of peer pressure? It's impossible to say with any book, but it's worth thinking about with a book like this. Even compared to other books in Morrison's bibliography, this one still stands out in terms of skill and maturity. It's become popular among young people to evaluate each other based on their taste in creative works. But while reading this book, I still kept track of who was killed, who was redeemed, who was given context, and who served a purpose. I'm not sure if the time Morrison spent introducing a new plot and characters halfway through was worth leaving other characters without a proper ending. There are also some sociological digressions that have a free-flowing omniscience over time, place, people, and culture that can't be copied. It feels a bit strange to enjoy those while also expecting the more ordinary conventions of climax and resolution to be followed.
If you're in the mood for a story that's close to the messy reality of humans under pressure, with unique and sordid aspects that haven't been fully revealed by the media, and that also reaches a high level of writing skill, this is a good choice. You may not be completely satisfied like I was, but for me, that's the price of being white. You'll have to figure out what it means for you. A quick look at Morrison's catalogue shows a lot of books I haven't read yet. But you have to admit, she doesn't write in a cheap way. I think it's best for me to wait until another copy of her work and the incentive to read it come my way. In between the modern hype and the past status quo, it's hard to know how much of my reading is influenced by subliminal factors and how much is my own choice. Still, it's something to have read so much and come back to a book that still has its own way, strengthened by what came before and unafraid of new directions. I took a five-year break after reading four of her books and may take an even longer one after this fifth one, especially with the ongoing unpleasantness that makes me value a whole section of my library that I can't let sit in storage anymore. For those who are still wondering if I recommend this book, since it's relatively short, a standalone despite the #2, and a good introduction to Morrison's methods and concerns, you might as well pick it up if you're curious about what all the fuss is about. It's not as good as Beloved or Playing in the Dark, but Rome wasn't built in a day. I'd rather people take the time and effort to break away from the white boys and enjoy someone with real stakes for a change. If nothing else, I'm sure this book has been banned because of various synonyms for the word "degeneracy" at some point, and sometimes that's all you need to know.

I cannot express in words the profound impact Toni Morrison's works have on me.每当我阅读她的作品时，我的整个灵魂都会为之震撼。I am seized by an intense longing,渴望能够深入理解她的文字，breathe them in with the voracity of a starving person.就像一个濒临死亡的人贪婪地呼吸着空气。然而，在读到《爵士乐》一半的时候，我被这部小说彻底的、热烈的“爱”所打动，它对人物、城市和读者都如此慷慨。这个故事是如此的亲密，就像不断地偷听一个人的忏悔。我被深深地震撼了。

《爵士乐》以这样的开场白开始，既充满敬畏又带着诅咒：“我认识那个女人。她曾经和一群鸟住在莱诺克斯大道。我也认识她的丈夫。他爱上了一个十八岁的女孩，那种深深的、令人毛骨悚然的爱让他又悲伤又快乐，以至于他开枪打死了她，只是为了让那种感觉继续下去。”这是一个强烈的开始，它将房间里的一切都抽离，只留下文字的震撼。在《爵士乐》中，莫里森要求我们正视浪漫爱情中更令人不安的方面。她令人难忘地揭示了我们彼此之间的依恋是多么复杂，身体的碰撞和渴望，人们如何成为彼此的雷区，不断地践踏，直到一切都被点燃。

莫里森以讲故事的节奏，将一个街角变成了一个神圣的地方，努力探索她笔下人物的内心深处。她坚定地决心捕捉黑人社会生活的丰富景观，展现快乐和创伤、暴力的非人化和深刻的人性，并在平凡中找到美。她出色地描写了欲望的困惑、女性之间复杂的关系，以及给予他人如此大的权力对我们来说意味着什么。她将人性融入到叙事的张力中，温柔而细致地塑造了每一个角色。

莫里森将《爵士乐》描述为一本“会说话的书”，确实如此。读这本小说时，人们感受到的不是一支笔在书写，而是一个声音在“表演”。正是讲故事者的那种氛围，如此接地气、直接和亲切，给小说带来了一种即兴创作的气息。但同时，《爵士乐》（正如其标题所暗示的）在结构上也是音乐性的。莫里森让小说“歌唱”，重复和和声，排练新的主题，即兴演奏它们，离开它们，然后再回到它们。在小说的某些地方，一章以一个单词或短语结束，而这个单词或短语会在下一章的开头再次出现，有时会有一些不同，揭示出涟漪和新的模式，就像地面上的纹理一样。不断地扩大小说的空间，使其更加宽广和清晰。

这就是《爵士乐》最令人兴奋的地方——它拒绝被封闭。莫里森的惊人成功来自于对读者期望的敏锐洞察，以及扩大和重新配置我们对文本情感反应的能力。在这部小说中，自我通过讲故事不断地被构建和打断，没有什么是确定不变的。到最后，人物甚至逃离了小说为他们准备的结局。他们摆脱了对自己身体施加的限制，继续即兴创作自己的未来，仿佛在说，只要有即兴创作的潜力，就有自由的潜力。

‘Jazz’ by Toni Morrison is a remarkable historical novel that combines modern/postmodern writing styles with elements of bebop jazz. The syncopated nature of the prose seems to align more with the bebop of the mid-1940s, despite the story being set in 1926. This connection between music and writing is an interesting aspect of the novel.

The basic plot follows Joe Trace and his wife Violet, who moved from the South to Harlem in search of a better life. Their marriage faces difficulties when Joe has an affair with a young girl named Dorcus. Violet's reaction to the affair leads to strange behavior, and Dorcus eventually ends the relationship with Joe, which results in a tragic outcome.

Morrison weaves in the characters' pasts, based on real-life Black history, and presents the story from different points of view. The book also includes a contrapuntal section about a man named Golden Gray, whose connection to the Traces is initially mysterious.

Overall, ‘Jazz’ is a virtuoso performance by Morrison, with its lyrical language and complex narrative. It aims to be a top-ranked literary work, similar to a high-quality Miles Davis Bebop jazz band performance. Whether or not Morrison succeeds in achieving this, the novel is a thought-provoking exploration of love, relationships, and history.

As an amateur in both music and reviewing, I welcome comments and amendments from more knowledgeable readers. I hope this expanded review provides a more in-depth look at this fascinating novel.

Remember to check out the YouTube links to Bebop jazz and the music of Giovanni Palestrina for a better understanding of the musical elements mentioned in the review.

I liked this more the first time I read it.

Though the actual writing is pretty faultless, as is often the case with any of Mother Toni’s novels.

For me, there is an issue of too much style and too much substance.

I almost wish the novel was double its size.

The themes would then have more room to develop and connect, which they rather tenuously do in the novel as written.

I do love the very free-form, improvisatory style and the total lack of traditional narrative sequence.

However, the dramatic engine of Jazz relies almost exclusively on symbolism and metaphor, much of which is unclear due to its obfuscatory lyricism.

That said, Toni is a genius and the Queen of my literary life, now and forever.

Her works always manage to captivate me with their unique charm and profound insights.

Although this particular novel may have some flaws in my eyes, it still showcases her remarkable talent and creativity.

I look forward to reading more of her works and exploring the wonderful world she creates through her writing.

Ich versuche es mal auf Deutsch. Bisher ist es mir nicht geglückt, Morrisons Bücher auf sinnvolle Art und Weise zu rezensieren. In ihren Romanen steckt so viel, dass ich nie die richtigen Worte finde. Am liebsten würde ich über alles sprechen, aber ich bin jedes Mal so überwältigt, verwirrt und vor den Kopf gestoßen, dass ich letzten Endes über nichts so richtig spreche. Mal schauen, ob mir das mit Jazz etwas besser gelingt.

Although Toni Morrison is a popular writer, perhaps even the last of the American canon (?), not all of her books are equally beloved and well-known. While probably everyone has heard of The Bluest Eye and Beloved, there will surely also be some to whom Tar Baby and Jazz don't mean much.

Jazz, first published in 1992 and thus the last novel before Morrison won the Nobel Prize in Literature, is the second part of a loosely connected trilogy that begins with Beloved (1987) and ends with Paradise (1998). This "trilogy" is often compared to Dante's Divine Comedy and is said to have the same three-part division - "Inferno", "Purgatorio", and "Paradiso". Personally, I don't (yet) see these parallels. It's true that within the three books, we move chronologically through time, starting in the 19th century during the era of slavery of black people in the US, through Harlem in the 1920s, and finally to a "more modern" America in the 1970s. But significant parallels to Dante that I could recognize so far. On the other hand, I always find it extremely difficult to penetrate Morrison's novels thematically and on an analytical level, which is why I'm sure that many references and interpretive approaches have escaped me.

The first paragraph of Jazz sets the tone for the story perfectly and already reveals a lot of what we can expect: "Sth, I know that woman. She used to live with a flock of birds on Lenox Avenue. Know her husband, too. He fell for an eighteen-year-old girl with one of those deepdown, spooky loves that made him so sad and happy he shot her just to keep the feeling going. When the woman, her name is Violet, went to the funeral to see the girl and to cut her dead face they threw her to the floor and out of the church. She ran, then, through all that snow, and when she got back to her apartment she took the birds from their cages and set them out the windows to freeze or fly, including the parrot that said, 'I love you.'"

I love everything about this paragraph. Just the "sth" in the first sentence (probably better translated with a "Tss" in German), the sound that is produced when one inhales sharply and judges something or someone. The first sentence is the personification of a headshake: "Sth, I know that woman." And hello, don't we all know women like Violet Trace.

In the introduction, Morrison writes that in Jazz she wanted to get to the bottom of the idea of "love as perpetual mourning". This idea is dealt with through different characters. On the one hand, we have Violet and Joe Trace, both in their mid-50s and married for decades. On the other hand, we have the young Dorcas, an 18-year-old girl who becomes Joe's lover and ultimately falls victim to him.

Dorcas, in her death, will cast an even greater shadow over the Traces' relationship than in life. Both Joe and Violet are "obsessed" with her in their own way. Jealousy and bitterness. Nightly awakenings and looking at the photo of Dorcas. Even Felice, Dorcas' best friend, will eventually become part of this toxic love triangle, she too stumbles into this purgatory, to stay with Dante.

  Dorcas, girl, your first time and mine. I chose you. Nobody gave you to me. Nobody said that’s the one for you. I picked you out. Wrong time, yep, and doing wrong by my wife. But the picking out, the choosing. Don’t ever think I fell for you, or fell over you. I didn’t fall in love, I rose in it. I saw you and made up my mind. My mind. And I made up my mind to follow you too.

But let's start from the beginning: Back then in Harlem, in 1926. Joe shoots his young lover when she takes another man. And Violet then cuts her dead face in the coffin. Everyone knows - and is silent. The law is white and Dorcas' aunt and guardian Alice doesn't want to "waste money on helpless lawyers or laughing policemen".

Dorcas haunts Violet and won't let go, so much so that Violet even befriends Alice to learn more about Dorcas. She wants to know everything about Dorcas, about her skin, her hair, her seductive skills. Just like her husband Joe, Violet is also attracted by the idea of youth. She feeds her own self-hatred, the hatred of her appearance and age, by immersing herself in Dorcas' youth and beauty.

Violet and Joe (and also Alice and Felice) all mourn the young Dorcas in their own way because she reminds them of the daughter they never had and of their own youth, which was still stolen from them by the misery of the southern states. For weeks, for months, they mourn. Each on their own. But then they find each other again as a couple. Very slowly. Finally, they hold each other tightly under the covers. They will grow old together.

In perceptive, gripping vignettes that focus on the lives of different characters in the novel, Morrison portrays the lives of black people who have to deal with what was given to them; people who are powerless to change their fate.

  “Forgot it was mine. My life. I just ran up and down the streets wishing I was somebody else.”

Morrison leads us back from Harlem to the South, to the countryside. There, where Violet's grandmother worked as a maid for a wealthy white woman. There, where Joe's mother lived alone and wild on cornfields. There, where Golden Gray searched for his black father to shoot him because he "abandoned" his white mother.

Jazz tells the story of Violet and Joe, a story about sex, passion, and despair. Love, jealousy, and melancholy. The word jazz never falls. And yet the book is a homage. It pulses like a piece of jazz. Morrison reclaims the "Jazz Age" that was appropriated by white writers like F. Scott Fitzgerald. And she gives it back to us blacks. To us and our music. Rarely has Toni Morrison pushed her style to such extremes, this playful virtuosity that she has always possessed. A raw, wild, surrealistic lyricism makes the pages ring, a language that is driven by the joy of the leap, the break, the mix. Slang, jazzed up to a silver clang.

Jazz is like the music that gave the novel its title. Rhythmic, emotional, even in the wildest moments controlled, skillful, subversive, and irresistibly seductive. It springs from pain and joy and evokes these. It mourns and celebrates black experiences; it takes up themes and varies them; it plunges, soars, and lingers. Morrison writes in a unique way. Nobody does it like her. She is not interested in linear storytelling, she doesn't moralize, she doesn't offer an "easy fix". Instead, she invites, she invites us to turn our inner selves inside out and be shaken up, driven by the music.