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For Your Reading List Credit: Simon & Schuster, Marian Calle These Ghosts Are Family by Maisy Card
Maisy Card's debut is — as you might guess from the title — absolutely haunting. The book opens with a scene of an old man on his dying day, reckoning with a secret that's plagued most of his life — the man known as Stanford Solomon is actually Abel Paisley, who faked his death more than 30 years ago and abandoned his life in Jamaica to start anew in the US. From there, Card moves into the past and future, exploring the stories of Paisley's ancestors and descendants — enslaved women in colonial Jamaica; his struggling daughters in modern Harlem — and the ways each generation's trauma bleeds into those that follow. Card's writing is inventive and captivating, dipping into different narrative styles and playing with magical realism and folklore. It's clear she's also a librarian — her depiction of genealogy and historical research is spot-on, and I found myself referencing the family tree that opens the book many, many times. I did find myself wishing the specific effects of Abel's opening scene were woven throughout the book — I never forgot him, and wanted more! — but that minor disappointment paled in comparison to my enchantment with this profound, dreamy novel as a whole. Pre-order your copy now. — Arianna Rebolini
BuzzFeed Book Club: Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid This month, the BuzzFeed Book Club is reading Kiley Reid's Such a Fun Age. Reid's much-discussed debut examines the relationship between a wealthy white couple and their young and broke black babysitter, Emira. Reid shows the uncomfortable ways that relationship strains and how the couple’s good intentions are challenged after Emira is accused of kidnapping the couple’s daughter while shopping with her one night. It’s a canny, scintillating, and deeply thoughtful exploration of race, class, and privilege. Check out a sneak peek below — and sign up to read along with us.
That night, when Mrs. Chamberlain called, Emira could only piece together the words “...take Briar somewhere...” and “...pay you double.”
In a crowded apartment and across from someone screaming “That’s my song!,” Emira stood next to her girlfriends Zara, Josefa, and Shaunie. It was a Saturday night in September, and there was a little over an hour left of Shaunie’s 26th birthday. Emira turned the volume up on her phone and asked Mrs. Chamberlain to say it again.
“Is there any way you can take Briar to the grocery store for a bit?”
Mrs. Chamberlain said. “I’m so sorry to call. I know it’s late.” It was almost astonishing that Emira’s daily babysitting job (a place of pricey onesies, colorful stacking toys, baby wipes, and sectioned dinner plates) could interrupt her current nighttime state (loud music, bodycon dresses, lip liner, and red Solo cups). But here was Mrs. Chamberlain, at 10:51 p.m., waiting for Emira to say yes. Under the veil of two strong mixed drinks, the intersection of these spaces almost seemed funny, but what wasn’t funny was Emira’s current bank balance: a total of 79 dollars and 16 cents. After a night of $20 entrées, birthday shots, and collective gifts for the birthday girl, Emira Tucker could really use the cash.
“Hang on,” she said. She set her drink down on a low coffee table and stuck her middle finger into her other ear. “You want me to take Briar right now?”
On the other side of the table, Shaunie placed her head on Josefa’s shoulder and slurred, “Does this mean I’m old now? Is 26 old?”
Josefa pushed her off and said, “Shaunie, don’t start.” Next to Emira, Zara untwisted her bra strap. She made a disgusted face in Emira’s direction and mouthed, Eww, is that your boss?
“Peter accidentally — we had an incident with a broken window and... I just need to get Briar out of the house.” Mrs. Chamberlain’s voice was calm and strangely articulate, as if she were delivering a baby and saying, Okay, mom, it’s time to push. “I’m so sorry to call you this late,” she said. “I just don’t want her to see the police.”
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