I am a member of the American Library Association Notable Books Council. This title was suggested for the 2018 list. It was not nominated for the award.

Yvette Johnson takes us on a journey of discovery as she explores the life of her Grandfather Booker Wright. It is interesting to see what goes on with the individuals and real people behind this powerful documentary. I love reading about this period in history and it didn't disappoint. This book had me all in my feelings, and I felt as if I were actually there as the action was taking place. The book was written from the heart, open and honest. I would definitely recommend this book to others.

<p>A <a href="http://shoshannawingate.squarespace.com/">friend</a> of mine just came back from a memoir-writing workshop. We talked about it on a walk around the duck pond near our houses. You need to have a narrative, my friend said. You need to have yourself as a character. You need to have a focus and a lens and a frame and basically, you can't be all rambly (like I often am).</p>

<p><A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/19621180/book/141870116">The Song and the Silence</a> is rambly. It's a unfocused. Neither means that it isn't compelling, but it's muddled. Johnson discovers her grandfather appeared in a 1960s television documentary about desegregation attempts in Mississippi. Her grandfather, a black singing waiter at a white's only restaurant, detailed how no matter what, around the white restaurant patrons, he smiles. He smiles but that doesn't mean he's happy. As the book's blurb says: <i>he described what life was truly like for the black people of Greenwood, Mississippi</i>.</p>

<p>Except the book isn't about Johnson's grandfather. It's about Johnson discovering about her grandfather, and maybe it would just be better about her grandfather. I'm rarely a fan of making the discoverer the protagonist rather than the person who is being discovered. As an example, I don't really need to read about Johnson having a fight with her mother about whether her kids can watch some Disney movie or not. If that fight could somehow be tied back into the struggle Johnson's grandfather endured, then maybe. But the clumps where Johnson writes about her own life are not deftly woven in to her grandfather's story. Johnson works hard to make this a memoir, when maybe this was better suited as a non-fiction about her grandfather's life. Her writing is stronger not writing about herself.</p>

<p>I just don't know what I was supposed to take away from this experience.</p>

<p><A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/19621180/book/141870116">The Song and the Silence</a> by Yvette Johnson went on sale May 2, 2017.</p>

<p><small>I received a copy free from <a href="https://www.netgalley.com/">Netgalley</a> in exchange for an honest review.</small></p>

I was browsing the pages of Net Galley and ran across this gem of a memoir. Often when someone that isn’t famous gets an autobiography published by a major publisher, it’s a hint to the reader that the story will be riveting. Such is the case here; my many thanks go to Net Galley and Atria for the DRC, which I read free in exchange for this honest review. You can order it now' it comes out Tuesday, May 9.

It probably says a great deal, all by itself, that I had never heard of Booker Wright before this. I have a history degree and chose, at every possible opportunity, to take classes, both undergraduate and graduate level, that examined the Civil Rights Movement, right up until my retirement a few years ago. As a history teacher, I made a point of teaching about it even when it wasn’t part of my assigned curriculum, and I prided myself on reaching beyond what has become the standard list that most school children learned. I looked in nooks and crannies and did my best to pull down myths that cover up the heat and light of that critical time in American history, and I told my students that racism is an ongoing struggle, not something we can tidy away as a fait accompli.

But I had never heard of Booker.

Booker Wright, for those that (also) didn’t know, was the courageous Black Mississippian that stepped forward in 1965 and told his story on camera for documentary makers. He did it knowing that it was dangerous to do so, and knowing that it would probably cost him a very good job he’d had for 25 years. It was shown in a documentary that Johnson discusses, but if you want to see the clip of his remarks, here’s what he said. You may need to see it a couple of times, because he speaks rapidly and with an accent. Here is Booker, beginning with his well-known routine waiting tables at a swank local restaurant, and then saying more:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM-zG...

So it was Booker and his new-to-me story that made me want to read the DRC. Johnson opens with information from that time, but as she begins sharing her own story, discussing not only Booker but her family’s story and in particular, her own alienation from her mother, who is Booker’s daughter, I waited for the oh-no feeling. Perhaps you’ve felt it too, when reading a biography; it’s the sensation we sometimes feel when it appears that a writer is using a famous subject in order to talk about themselves, instead. I’ve had that feeling several times since I’ve been reading and reviewing, and I have news: it never happened here. Johnson’s own story is an eloquent one, and it makes Booker’s story more relevant today as we see how this violent time and place has bled through to color the lives of its descendants.

The family’s history is one of silences, and each of those estrangements and sometimes even physical disappearance is rooted in America’s racist heritage. Johnson chronicles her own privileged upbringing, the daughter of a professional football player. She went to well-funded schools where she was usually the only African-American student in class. She responded to her mother’s angry mistrust of Caucasians by pretending to herself that race was not even worth noticing.
But as children, she and her sister had played a game in which they were both white girls. They practiced tossing their tresses over their shoulders. Imagine it.

Johnson is a strong writer, and her story is mesmerizing. I had initially expected an academic treatment, something fairly dry, when I saw the title. I chose this to be the book I was going to read at bedtime because it would not excite me, expecting it to be linear and to primarily deal with aspects of the Civil Rights movement and the Jim Crow South that, while terrible, would be things that I had heard many times before. I was soon disabused of this notion. But there came a point when this story was not only moving and fascinating, but also one I didn’t want to put down. I suspect it will do the same for you.

YouTube has a number of clips regarding this topic and the documentary Johnson helped create, but here is an NPR spot on cop violence, and it contains an interview of Johnson herself from when the project was released. It’s about 20 minutes long, and I found it useful once I had read the book; reading it before you do so would likely work just as well:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_xxeh...

Johnson tells Booker’s story and her own in a way that looks like effortless synthesis, and the pace never slackens. For anyone with a post-high-school literacy level, an interest in civil rights in the USA, and a beating heart, this is a must-read. Do it.

The Song and the Silence by Yvette Johnson is both a memoir as well as a lesson in her family history and also the space of Greenwood, Mississippi. Johnson alternates chapters between telling her own story with that of her grandfather, Booker. It is difficult to adequately summarize the large scope that Johnson took on in writing this book and how deftly she pulled all of the pieces together.

Johnson led a very sheltered life in her early years. Her trip to the Mississippi Delta had to be an eye opener for a sheltered California girl. Growing up Johnson did not fit with any racial group very well. Having questions of her own, along with wanting to be able to express the facts of their racial heritage with her son prompted Johnson to look back and dig deep into her family history. Along the way, Johnson goes through a major transformation of her own. I admire the honesty of her words. The authenticity of her inquiries. And ultimately her willingness to be open minded.

I enjoyed this memoir a lot. While it is heavy material the writing is so engaging that it is a fast and enjoyable read. Some of the things Johnson wrote about will be on my mind for a while and to me that is the sign of a gifted storyteller.

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for allowing me to read an advanced copy of this novel.