"When she reached thirty, her hot red eyes turned to agate, and her skin took on the color of a bruised, infiltrated, and dusty brick."
Reread (I first read this in the late ‘80s.)
In an essay within The Source of Self-Regard: Selected Essays, Speeches, and Meditations, Morrison elaborates on and dismisses the initial few pages of this book, the prologue, which she refers to as a “door”. It was something she didn't utilize in her first novel and wouldn't in subsequent ones.
Similar to The Bluest Eye, after reading this, more questions surface in the mind than answers. (This is actually a good thing.) Has Sula been molded by the actions of her mother, Hannah? Or by her grandmother, Eva? What about the insular community that Sula departs from for a decade? Who is the “brilliant friend” in the duo of Sula and her dear friend Nel? Is one a conformist and the other a nonconformist, with one being good and the other bad? Are the two girls truly the same as Eva claims? Is the perceived embodiment of evil the sole factor that gives rise to its opposite within the community?
Only when penning this review did I think of Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend. However, while reading this novel, a particular passage reminded me of Ferrante’s The Lying Life of Adults: When Sula is eleven, she overhears Hannah telling two friends that she loves her daughter but just doesn't like her, and that's the distinction. Sula is confused and hurt, at least for a moment, by her mother's words. Does this incident directly lead to Sula’s (in)actions later that day and a couple of years after?
Morrison might not have favored her beginning, but it all culminates in a deeply fulfilling ending.
Being back in Toni Morrison's prose is an absolute delight. It's as if one is wrapped in an exquisitely soft and warm blanket of words. Morrison has a unique way with the English language that seems to be beyond the comprehension of ordinary mortals. Sula, despite being only around 170 pages, is filled with an astonishing amount of depth and substance. It has the richness and complexity that one would expect from a 500-page novel, yet without any of the unnecessary fluff.
Sula is a multi-faceted story, mainly centered around Sula and Nel, who are best friends from their childhood. As they grow up, they take very different paths. Nel essentially conforms: she stays in her hometown, gets married, and has kids. On the other hand, Sula leaves town and disappears for years. Until one day, she suddenly returns. Her reappearance causes a stir in the town, and she becomes the scapegoat for the town's grievances, which are projected onto her. Scared of her strength and independence, some even label her a witch.
In addition to exploring female friendship and what it means to be a Black woman in America who refuses to adhere to social conventions, Morrison also touches upon other important issues. The book contains some of the most shocking and jaw-dropping scenes that I've read in a long time. There were at least four moments when I had to put the book down and take a moment to process what I had just read. And the ending! It's a force of nature, one that will be etched in your brain forever.
This was the book club pick for August by @thestackspod. If you've read it, I highly recommend going to listen to Traci unpack this book with author Brit Bennett. I particularly enjoyed their discussion on the role of humour in the book. So, go check it out!
THE MOST MOVING AND NECESSARY WORK OF FICTION I HAVE EVER HELD.
Any attempt to summarize or sell you on this book, to say something about Morrison and her brilliance that hasn’t already been said, feels futile. I’m not a good enough writer. Most likely it will all sound hollow and trying.
But there is nearly no other piece of literature that has moved and built and exorcised me more than this one. It has a profound impact on my soul.
I want so badly to reject the poisonous and antiquated expectations that are always looming over my head. I often spend a great deal of my time boarded up in my room, angry at the world for producing such twisted rules and ways of being. I am also fearful that I won't be able to navigate them all. That I'll get sucked in and believe the lies, or that I'll spend the rest of my life spinning my wheels, trying to change these unjust systems that are so much bigger and older and smarter than me.
In Sula, Morrison writes about a woman who has rejected the rules. Sula Peace occupies a space outside of the patriarchy’s narrow and suffocating borders. She “devours,” she does what she pleases and goes where she wants, refusing to serve or surrender. And I want so badly to do the same. But I don't want to be alone either. Being an outlaw comes at quite the cost, to which Sula says “Lonely? Yes, but my lonely is mine.” Well, she's braver than me.
No writer has ever woven death and desire, history and myth, heartbreak and rib-rattling joy the way Morrison did. Her writing is a masterpiece.
This book is deep purple and sweltering. It jolts you awake, opens the floodgates then stands back to watch you puffy-eyed and sobbing, squinting and flipping back to the previous page for confirmation of what just happened. It has a powerful emotional impact.
This book is holy ground I swear. Almost makes me want to rethink my stance on motherhood just so I can name my child Plum. ALMOST.
How on earth was this under 200 pages? It's truly astonishing. One would expect a work of such significance and complexity to require a much larger volume. The content seems so rich and detailed that it's hard to fathom how it could be condensed into such a relatively small number of pages. Perhaps the author has an extraordinary talent for concise yet powerful writing. Every sentence must carry a great deal of weight, packing in essential information and ideas. It makes one wonder what might have been sacrificed in the process of keeping it under 200 pages. Were there any important details or subplots that had to be omitted? Or did the author manage to masterfully distill the essence of the story without losing its impact? It's a mystery that begs to be解开.