4: The Help, by Kathryn Stockett (2009 Kindle)

A lot of people I know have read Stockett's novel about race relations within a Mississippi community during the Civil Rights Movement, and everyone said good things about it.  It also got quite a bit of attention in popular media, which is one of the reasons I drug my feet when it came to getting it myself (I'm always resistant to jumping on the latest literary bandwagon.)--and why it ended up on my Kindle when I finally did purchase it.  Since I only use my Kindle when traveling, the books I load are usually pop-fiction books I don't feel strongly about owning physically.  Having started it at the end of my trip to the Balkans last summer, I put the Kindle aside on my return and didn't get back to The Help until my trips to Orlando in November and the Pacific NW coast this month.  

What I'm pointing out is that it took me a long time to gain interest in Stockett's novel, and even longer to finish it.  That, however, is completely counter to my actual enjoyment of the book, which tells a remarkable story and is very well written.  Indeed, Stockett provides an exceptional view into a time and a place, and she does so by depicting the world of women--a vantage point not often shared in historic texts.

The novel is set in Jackson, Mississippi, and it alternates between three narrators: Eugenia, a single, white woman of privilege who has returned to her family home after college; Aibileen, a widowed, complacent African-American maid whose only son died in an accident; and Minny, a willful African-American maid married to an abusive drunk, with whom she has several children.  Aibileen and Minny work in the homes of two of Eugenia's best friends, and they tell their stories of servitude and second-class citizenry in matter-of-fact narratives.  In an effort to pursue her aspirations as a writer, Eugenia decides to write a book about what it's like to be a black woman caring for the homes and the children of white women in the Jim Crow south.  She convinces Aibileen to assist her in recruiting a dozen maids to tell their stories--both the good and the bad.

The trust and the stories don't come easily. The women face serious threats from all sides and must work in secrecy, and even then jobs and friends are lost--on both sides of the race line. The resulting narrative, however, is powerful, sad, and joyful. in these pages, Stockett explores the fears and misconceptions that drove segregation, as well as the hope and courage that brought about its end.  I can see why so many people enjoyed the book, and I am happy that I finally read it.  My only complaint is that I was a bit dissatisfied with the ending, but I can't really go into that without ruining it for those of you who haven't read it yet.  Which I strongly encourage you to do.