Admittedly, I was lost at times while reading this, read many a chapter and sentence over and over, but by the end, I found the effort more than worth it. I can't pretend to know what it must have been like for women/slaves like Sethe, but if I've now gleaned even an inkling, this was the story that did it.

Much like after reading the Color Purple, I found myself thinking about this story again and again, and would highly recommend it for anyone with the patience to see it through. The pay off is well worth it.

I'm always trying to read books that are hailed as good, hoping to enjoy them as much as everyone else does. I'm sad to say that this book didn't agree with me. This isn't to say that it isn't a good book- after all, this review is just my opinion.
Much of the book confused me because the book went back and forth in time in paragraphs. On one page, the first paragraph would be twenty years in the past, and the next paragraph would be five years in the past, and the third paragraph would be in the present. (by present I mean late 1800's).
Sometimes even in one paragraph the story would go through several different events over several different years. This confused me to the point where I had no idea what was going on! So I didn't enjoy it very much. But oh, how I wanted to! It seemed like it would be a book I would enjoy.

I have to admit, I approached this novel with quite a bit of trepidation. It was an Oprah's book club pick, which generally means depressing, and I tend to be leery of "highly acclaimed" books. Maybe a bit of reverse snobbishness. But I've been making a point lately of ignoring my knee-jerk reactions and trying to check things out before I judge them.

If you haven't heard anything about it, Beloved is the story of Sethe and her daughter Denver, who live alone with a ghost now that her mother-in-law has died and her two sons have left home. A man from Sethe's past shows up, Paul D., and then a young woman, Beloved, who becomes ever more demanding.

Through a series of flashbacks and memories, we get the picture of Sethe's life, and how and why it culminated in her killing one of her children and attempting to kill the others. I'd been forewarned about that, so it wasn't as much of a shock as it might have been.

Beloved is a powerful novel. I can't really express it any other way. It provides an unvarnished look at a period in history that would be more comfortable to forget. But if that were all it was, I wouldn't have liked it so much. I'm not one to hide my head in the sand, but I don't see the point of dwelling on the horrors people inflict on each other, either. I like to know and then move on.

It's also a story of community, and how people react as groups. Sethe was rejected by her community, not as much because she'd killed her child, but because she was too independent. It's an interesting concept, and one that applies very much to me as well--like Sethe, I find it shameful to ask for help, preferring to do without than to reach out. So the story hit me on that level as well.

But for me, mostly, it was a story of guilt, and how Sethe's guilt manifested itself (literally), and how she needed to accept help to forgive herself. And that's what really made the story for me.

I doubt I'll re-read this, at least not for a long time, but I'm very glad I did.

Here is the problem. Toni Morrison and Maya Angelou are praised to the skies no matter what they do. Their business is selling misery and they have made fortunes. They live in palaces, enjoy their wealth, and sell commentary on poverty, suffering, and injustice. All the power to them. Are they writers? Maya sells gifts cards, picture books, and recordings; hers is the real industry. Toni has got that academic cult status, buying property from Princeton to Bear Mountain, and making you believe she is tapped into the voices of oppression. "Beloved" is marvelous; it should be made into a musical, a Las Vegas show, a movie, a TV serial, a required text in every school in America. It should be set to music, choreographed, and then filmed underwater. Finally, it should be read by Maya Angelou, sold as a Christmas CD, with packaged soul food, and vintage photographs of field hands bent over in the sun. It should be made into a theme park.

Unfortunately, though I gave this book two attempts with a years interval, I still couldn't finish it! I'd heard the hype and was hoping to discover something extraordinary but was totally underwhelmed in the end.
There are definately some disturbing images and some quite beautiful prose in this book but it hardly meets the kind of praise it has received.

However, a winner of the Nobel prize for literature it is, so give it a go and see for yourself.