Girl, Woman, Other by Bernadine Evaristo
Title: Girl, Woman, Other
Author: Bernardine Evaristo
Published: 2019
Type: Fiction
Pages: 453
it felt like the old days when they’d sit and have a wazz in full view of each other while continuing whatever conversation they were stuck into
no matter how long since they’ve last seen each other, the distance of three thousand miles across America, plus another four thousand across an ocean, dissolves as if it was never a barrier in the first place
they pick up as comfortably as the time before, this is the real meaning of a friendship that lasts a lifetime
In Brief:
A really joyful, vibrant, and expansive book -- the twelve diverse characters were sometimes hard to track, but overall a beautiful reflection on Black womanhood and its relationships.
Rating: 4.5
Synopsis:
“From one of Britain's most celebrated writers of color, Girl, Woman, Other is a magnificent portrayal of the intersections of identity and a moving and hopeful story of an interconnected group of Black British women. Shortlisted for the 2019 Booker Prize and the Gordon Burn Prize, Girl, Woman, Other paints a vivid portrait of the state of post-Brexit Britain, as well as looking back to the legacy of Britain's colonial history in Africa and the Caribbean.
The twelve central characters of this multi-voiced novel lead vastly different lives: Amma is a newly acclaimed playwright whose work often explores her Black lesbian identity; her old friend Shirley is a teacher, jaded after decades of work in London's funding-deprived schools; Carole, one of Shirley's former students, is a successful investment banker; Carole's mother Bummi works as a cleaner and worries about her daughter's lack of rootedness despite her obvious achievements. From a nonbinary social media influencer to a 93-year-old woman living on a farm in Northern England, these unforgettable characters also intersect in shared aspects of their identities, from age to race to sexuality to class.”
Where I’m At:
Personally, this book made me reflect a lot on my female relationships. Revelatory, I know.
I’ve had many strong relationships with men, both friendly and romantic. At some points, I’ve considered myself one of those girls who “just gets along better with guys.” But, a very small amount of thought proves that untrue (as well as internalized sexism) — my most definitive relationships have been with women. I think of Sarah, my older sister, first friend, role model; Lisa, the girl I’ve known since we were five years old; Audrey, who’s stuck with me and loved me since high school. Then there’s Rachel, who lived across the hall from me freshman year at Berkeley and immediately decided we’d be friends; Sophia, who I originally assumed hated me but loves me without condition and cries with me in bathrooms; Ruth, like an inspirational, brave and big-hearted younger sister; and Anne, who traveled the world with me and knew me better than anyone, ever.*
It’s the last one whom I thought about most while reading — though we’re still friends, it’s like the way you might still be friends with an ex. But it hurts me far more than any breakup I’ve experienced, left me missing a piece of myself in a way I’d have thought a tired cliche. I miss her. I miss being so intimately known, miss having a person to lean on so critically (and be leaned on in return), someone to finish my sentences and share every thought. I didn’t just think about her while reading, I think about her every day.
Relationships change, and that’s ok. What I’m getting at is that reading this book reminded me of the importance of the women in my life, and how lucky I’ve been to be surrounded by such a wonderful, supportive community.
Getting Into it:
The reason I was thinking about relationships so much while reading this book is that they’re what really defines it. None of the stories is about just one person – just as they overlap and intertwine with each other plot-wise, the crux of each one individually is always some relationship or relationships. And Evaristo was able to capture the essence of each one very simply, powerfully. My favorite example (you’ll never guess why):
it was true that she and Amma had been soulmates without the sex
But it goes on. There are relationships that are romantic, familial, platonic, healthy, abusive, shallow, transformative – and each is keenly explored for its nuances, its impact, its evolution. I found this fascinating and astute, loved Evaristo’s use of different perspectives and timelines to continually reveal layers and details.
Relatedly, what impressed me most about this book was Evaristo’s fantastic job getting into the heads of such a diverse cast of characters. Changing character perspectives is hardly unique, true, but hers were just so wildly different – 90+ year-olds and teenagers, lawyers and bankers and cleaners and teachers and farmers, immigrants, nonbinary, queer and straight, etcetera. They each have strong, unique voices; they’re all deeply complex, believable, and flawed. In spite of all their differences, Evaristo makes the intersectionality of it all crystal clear, as their struggles and triumphs mirror and overlap one another.
To that end, an ongoing theme throughout the book is focused on the experience of being Black, particularly in the UK. Her characters face a range of adversity based on their skin, including microaggressions:
except she can’t help remembering all the little hurts, the business associates who compliment her on being so articulate, unable to hide the surprise in their voices, so that she has to pretend not to be offended and to smile graciously, as if the compliment is indeed just that
police violence:
Shirley had long felt angry on behalf of her brothers who’d also been harassed by the police since they were young
all black men had to learn to handle it, all black men had to be tough
and when the police killed or beat someone, they were allowed to investigate themselves, and exonerated the accused
internalized hatred:
Harriet saw that neither of her children liked being coloured and she didn’t know what to do about it.
Ada Mae painted herself as a white child in drawings, and from the age of twelve Sonny never wanted to be seen with her father beyond the village, hated having to go to the cattle fairs with him as a teenager and he begged her not to bring his father to school events
she overheard Sonny telling a boy whose father dropped him home one day that Slim, who was leading sheep out to pasture, was a hired labourer
Slim would have given his life for his children
interracial relationships:
there is no point getting on in this country if you lose who you really are, you are not English or did you give birth to yourself?
you are Nigerian, first, foremost, and last-most.
Carole, you must marry a Nigerian for your poor papi’s sake, abi?
etcetera.
Yet in spite of all that, the primary mood of the book is that of joy. Specifically Black joy, which feels so sacred. In a way that I can never understand, Evaristo embraces Blackness with all its complexities and upholds it for admiration. The difficulties are balanced with humor and discovery and exultation; in spite of everything, the characters seem to glow with delight at the simple fact of being alive.**
There were a few things I didn’t love about the book. I wasn’t necessarily a fan of Evaristo’s writing style, with the lack of quotation marks or periods – it’s somewhat of a hybrid between poetry and prose. Perhaps I’m just too conventional, but it didn’t work well for me. I also found her writing to be a bit jarring overall – very action-oriented and blunt. I do appreciate that in a way, but I think I prefer a style that’s a bit more lyrical – there weren’t many lines that stood out to me for being beautiful.
I also wish the book was a bit more structured – it sort of drifts through time, and the sections didn’t totally make sense to me. It also didn’t help that I also found it to be (wait for it) too long! By the end I caught myself skimming, and the length didn’t help my confusion as I tried to connect the characters and remember which ones fit in where. It’s not that I want fewer chapters (because I loved the diversity), but each definitely had a number of scenes that just weren’t necessary.
All that said – it’s a lovely book. Evaristo is touted as one of Britain’s best modern authors (this book co-won the Booker Prize with Margaret Atwood’s The Testament!), and it’s easy to see why. It’s witty, it’s energetic, it’s vivid, it’s utterly unique – I recommend reading for a breath of fresh air.
*Edit – I’ve not-so-subtly changed names here, because my partner is very paranoid about privacy and made me feel bad. I’m so sorry if you hate your assigned name, I just did the first ones that popped into my head.
**totally irrelevant – this song has been stuck in my head for weeks.
