While considered in today’s racial climate a slur, the term “tar baby” has an interesting origin. It came from the stories of Bre'r Rabbit and Bre'r Fox, where it was a metaphor for a sticky situation that got worse the more one tried to escape. Joel Chandler Harris, a white journalist, was intrigued by the folklore of former slaves. He wrote a beloved children’s book in 1880 called “Uncle Remus: His Songs and Sayings”, which was the basis for the 1946 Disney film “Song of the South”. However, this film has never been released due to its racist portrayals.

In 1981, Toni Morrison published the novel “Tar Baby”, a contemporary re-telling of the Uncle Remus story. Morrison, a 20th-century writer, used the fairy tale as a thinly-veiled protest tale. She wasn’t criticizing slavery directly but rather the deep-rooted racism and white privilege in the US. The “tar baby” in her novel is a black man named Son who escapes from a ship to a Caribbean island. He sneaks into a huge mansion where a wealthy white couple lives. Mr. Valerian Street invites Son to stay as a guest, but the other household members have different reactions. Margaret is terrified for racist reasons, the staff is troubled for practical reasons, and Jadine is frightened for various reasons, including her strong sexual attraction to Son. Son’s introduction into this world creates a downward spiral, revealing ancient resentments and hidden racist fears. Morrison’s novel tackles many important themes, such as the lies we tell in relationships, the resentments of employees, the traumas we inflict on our children, and the importance of empathy and compassion.

3.5 ⭐️

I think a great deal of TM's writing just completely goes right over my small head. It's possible that I might have a greater appreciation for it upon a re-read. Her writing style is, as it always has been, delicious, lush, and vibrant.

TM has a unique way of constructing sentences and choosing words that make her work truly stand out. The descriptions she provides are so vivid that they almost seem to jump off the page.

However, sometimes her ideas are a bit too complex for me to fully grasp on the first go. But that's part of the charm of her writing. It challenges me to think deeper and to try to understand the hidden meanings and nuances.

I'm looking forward to giving this piece another read and seeing if I can uncover more of its beauty and depth.

Imagine yourself in that dark, all alone in the sky at night.

Nobody is around you. You are by yourself, just shining there.

You know how a star is supposed to twinkle? We say twinkle because that is how it looks, but when a star feels itself, it's not a twinkle, it's more like a throb.

Star throbs. Over and over and over. Like this. Stars just throb and throb and throb and sometimes, when they can't throb anymore, when they can't hold it anymore, they fall out of the sky.

At some point in life, the world's beauty becomes enough.

You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough.

No record of it needs to be kept and you don't need someone to share it with or tell it to.

When that happens—that letting go—you let go because you can.

The world will always be there—while you sleep it will be there—when you wake it will be there as well.

So you can sleep and there is reason to wake.

A dead hydrangea is as intricate and lovely as one in bloom.

Bleak sky is as seductive as sunshine, miniature orange trees without blossom or fruit are not defective; they are that.

So the windows of the greenhouse can be opened and the weather let in.

This passage beautifully描绘了一幅孤独而又充满哲理的画面。在夜空中独自闪耀的星星，它们的悸动如同生命的节奏。而对于世界的美丽，我们有时无需记录或分享，只需感受它的存在。因为世界总会在那里，无论我们是睡着还是醒来。就像枯萎的绣球花和无花无果的小橘树，它们都有自己独特的美。所以，我们可以打开温室的窗户，让自然的气息进来，感受生命的多样与美好。

Over the past two years, I have been delving deep into the remarkable library of the iconic Ms. Morrison. With each read, my admiration for her grows exponentially.

Her prose is nothing short of lyrical, poetic, and breathtakingly beautiful. The messages she conveys are intelligent and thought-provoking, leaving a lasting impact on the reader. The emotional resonance is eloquent, persuasive, and deeply poignant. I find myself shedding tears with every one of her books.

“Tar Baby” may seem to be one of her lesser-known and less popular works, but it is filled with the depth that is characteristic of a Morrison novel. Set in the Caribbean, she weaves a laconic yet powerful tale that explores themes of love, sex, slavery, and colonialism. The pace may be quiet, but the message is loud and clear.

Narrated by multiple characters, including a few scenes from the perspective of butterflies, the story follows septuagenarian American businessman Valerian, who has purchased an island near Haiti. He lives there with his 50-year-old wife, Margaret, and their two servants, Ondine and Sydney. The relationship between the servants and the American couple is unique, with the servants feeling comfortable making demands.

The book also introduces us to Jadine, Ondine and Sydney's niece, and Son, a young man who has been hiding in the home. As the story unfolds, many secrets are exposed, along with underlying racism. In the end, Valerian hides while Son and Jadine flee to New York.

Filled with Morrison's typically beautiful metaphors, such as the one on page 43 about a house of sleeping humans, and the humorous moment on page 127 when the avocado tree hears and comments, the book is a literary masterpiece.

As always, Morrison's dedication to teaching about history, protecting the environment, uplifting women, and celebrating art shines through. The story is much deeper than one might expect, making it a beautiful, insightful, and educational read that I will undoubtedly return to again and again.