Because she knew that, if it came down to her word versus Loretta’s, she would always be believed. And knowing this, she felt, for the first time, truly white.
One of the best books I’ve read in awhile. From its synopsis one would think the storyline trite: one half of a pair of twin sisters goes missing to lead a double life. Except that this generational story set in 70s-80s Louisiana South has the gripping quality of a mystery, while tugging at readers’ heartstrings with the struggles arising from racial profiling and search for self-identity.
In the dark, you could never be too black. In the dark, everyone was the same colour.
So black that you could see nothing but her. A fly in milk, contaminating everything.
The setting itself is absurd from a modern lens: an antiquated, conservative town Mallard where the residents intermarry with the intention of lightening each generation’s skin tone. Both twins spiral in polar directions: Stella masquerades as an affluent white woman, relishing in the privileges her facade entities her to. Denise on the other hand resigns her ambitions to the sleepy town of Mallard, reluctant but resigned.
That lie seemed kinder than the truth, momentary unfaithfulness a gentler deception than her ongoing fraud.
Stella’s perspective is singularly unique as a person of colour experiencing the other side; Denise on the other hand lives a life authentic to her birthright, but inauthentic to her aspirations. The sisters’ diverging paths eventually converge through their daughters, reconciling the gulf between the twins.
Overall I loved this book and was wholeheartedly absorbed for two days: it is potent, challenging and moving. It makes one question the lines they are willing to cross, or the dreams they are willing to relinquish versus those they adamantly hold onto, in creating their own unique human experience.
JR's Journal 