Unable to shake off her
past and the destruction colorism played in her childhood, Grayson returns to
Lakeland in an attempt to reconcile her past.
REVIEW:
Grayson
By Tamar White
5 Stars
Reviewed by G. Lloyd Helm
Grayson
is a book about family history, secrets, and rivalries. Families can be complicated enough, but if you mix in
race and egotism they become even more so. Grayson
explores the connections between mothers and daughters and what daughters don't
know about mothers and mothers don't know about daughters. Each character is
keeping explosive secrets in this story, from who is whose father and who is
actually related to whom and, more interestingly, why the characters are so at
odds.
I can't say I enjoyed this
book, but I was awed by the Ms. White's ability to make her characters come
right off the page. She is a hell of a writer. It was well worth the read for
the people in it.
EXCERPT: Grayson
Grayson took a moment to soak up the quietness of the afternoon before
they headed inside. The country air tickled her nose. Grayson had forgotten how
clean air could smell. The sweet smell of the honeysuckle lingered over the
slight breeze and settled her stomach as it occupied her lungs. She enjoyed how
the crisp air danced on her skin, and brushed away the city of Boston's
lingering aroma. Grayson turned her eyes towards the estate she had grown up
in, and saw Lakeland in a way she never had before.
The unusually harsh winters over the past few years had abused the
hand-made clay shingles and caused a distinct discoloration. The landscaping
was neat, but not kept to the same standard it had been when her grandfather
was alive. Grayson knew her grandfather would have never allowed the forsythia
bushes to expand and move about the grounds freely. He would have demanded the
gardeners control the beautifully bright yellow shrubberies and conform them to
the Harrow standard. Wild is for the wilderness, Grayson's grandfather would
have said. Grayson smiled at the absence of the ancient oak tree she'd fallen out of when she was ten. The enormous oak tree with the giant
knock hole had shaded her bedroom, and helped her sneak out when she was
sixteen to Elizabeth Brownsworth's end of the year party. The white washed
bricks demanded a thorough cleaning, and the cliché, Gone with the Wind pillars pleaded desperately for a fresh coat of
cloud white paint. Lakeland looked miserable. It was as if Lakeland knew her
final chapter was already written.
"Lakeland is
really showing her years." Grayson stared at
the midnight black, heavily ornate front door with the bulky lion head
doorknocker, and equally obnoxious doorknob she swore she'd never enter again, every time she walked out. Grayson picked up her laptop bag and started her pilgrimage
towards her past.
"Relax," David whispered from behind her. "Everything is
going to be fine."
Her mother, Vivianna, opened the front door and stood in the archway
like a Grand Duchess impatiently awaiting the arrival of her audience.
"Grayson, put the bag down!" she snapped in an egotistical tone.
"We don't carry our bags. We have them carried. Has city life caused you
to abandon your upbringing? Ladies of means do not carry bags."
Five seconds. That's how long it took Grayson to go from a strong,
accounting firm executive, to the shy, chocolate-skinned, frizzy haired,
correction-shoe girl of her past.
"Mother," Grayson retorted in the stiff flat tone she reserved
for addressing Vivianna. "So nice to see―"
"Never mind all that." Vivianna motioned them towards the
front door. "Inside quickly. No need for some of us to get any darker than
we already are, darling." Vivianna paused in the foyer to admire her
creamy beige skin in the mirror before entering the sitting room. She never
passed on an opportunity to admire what she perceived as her greatness. "Grayson,
I don't see how you're able to endure. I don't know what I would do if my skin
was permanently darkened by the sun." The physical differences in Vivianna
and Grayson went beyond skin tone. Vivianna was thin in stature. She never had
an issue maintaining a hundred and ten pounds on her five foot three frame. Her
nose was narrow, her lips thin, and her eyes were almond shaped. People, mostly
women, assumed her green eyes were fake, but they were indeed real. Vivianna
was everything a color-complex struck Black man found irresistible. She was
their must-have. Grayson, on the other hand, possessed curves for days, full
lips, and a round face with a button nose to match her high cheekbones. She had
the type of body hip-hop artists paid homage to in their lyrics, minus the
chocolate-colored skin.
"Come, Grayson ... sit. I want to know how things are going. Was
the flight enjoyable? I hope you flew first class. I've heard people in coach
can have an odor to them."
Grayson rolled her eyes behind Vivianna's back. And so it begins...
AUTHOR BIO:
Tamara
White is married and lives in Illinois with her husband, children and dogs. She
enjoys photography and reading.
Website URL: under construction launch in app. three weeks.
Blog URL:
Facebook page: www.facebook.com/tamarawhite888
Twitter handle: @twhitebutblack (recently launched)
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