BLUE TRUTH

WALKING THE THIN BLUE LINE--ONE COP'S STORY OF LIFE IN THE STREETS

Extremely tough, overwrought memoir of ten years on the beat by a former cop turned novelist (the paperback The Patch, Gulf Stream). Unlike those police writers who deal in irony and nuance, (Wambaugh, etc.), McDonald dishes out enough action to satisfy the most jaded of fans. In this account of a decade (1970-80) as a cop in Fort Lauderdale, McDonald witnesses or participates in shoot-outs, car chases, beatings, mock executions, drownings, child molestationsan avalanche of crime and brutality that nearly overwhelms him: ``I stood there with a tiny tin spoon and tried to shovel shit against the tide.'' He recalls these years of turmoil through a patchwork of stream-of-consciousness, impressionistic snapshots, and anecdotes that read like tight short stories. Angerat crooks, lawyers, judges, the publiccoils through every episode. So does imagery that skirts the edge between revelation and bathos: ``I could only kneel there on that blacktop altar, and look down at the offering of blood on my palms, and guess at the coming judgment.'' He never spares himself, as his marriage collapses and moral numbness creeps in: ``I stood there waiting, relaxed, while the red-haired burglar lay at our feet eating mouthfuls of gravel.'' The horrible merry- go-round continues to swirl until ``it was time to walk away from it, but how do you walk away from yourself?'' High-voltage portrait of the cop as victim and saviorand frighteningly relevant, given the recent L.A. police brutality case. Wallop upon wallop.

Pub Date: May 24, 1991

ISBN: 1-55611-246-7

Page Count: -

Publisher: Donald Fine

Review Posted Online: May 20, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 1991

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However charily one should apply the word, a beautiful book, an unconditionally involving memoir for our time or any time.

I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS

Maya Angelou is a natural writer with an inordinate sense of life and she has written an exceptional autobiographical narrative which retrieves her first sixteen years from "the general darkness just beyond the great blinkers of childhood."

Her story is told in scenes, ineluctably moving scenes, from the time when she and her brother were sent by her fancy living parents to Stamps, Arkansas, and a grandmother who had the local Store. Displaced they were and "If growing up is painful for the Southern Black girl, being aware of her displacement is the rust on the razor that threatens the throat." But alternating with all the pain and terror (her rape at the age of eight when in St. Louis With her mother) and humiliation (a brief spell in the kitchen of a white woman who refused to remember her name) and fear (of a lynching—and the time they buried afflicted Uncle Willie under a blanket of vegetables) as well as all the unanswered and unanswerable questions, there are affirmative memories and moments: her charming brother Bailey; her own "unshakable God"; a revival meeting in a tent; her 8th grade graduation; and at the end, when she's sixteen, the birth of a baby. Times When as she says "It seemed that the peace of a day's ending was an assurance that the covenant God made with children, Negroes and the crippled was still in effect."

However charily one should apply the word, a beautiful book, an unconditionally involving memoir for our time or any time.

Pub Date: Feb. 1, 1969

ISBN: 0375507892

Page Count: 235

Publisher: Random House

Review Posted Online: May 14, 2012

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 1969

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A Churchill-ian view of native history—Ward, that is, not Winston—its facts filtered through a dense screen of ideology.

AN INDIGENOUS PEOPLES' HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES

Custer died for your sins. And so, this book would seem to suggest, did every other native victim of colonialism.

Inducing guilt in non-native readers would seem to be the guiding idea behind Dunbar-Ortiz’s (Emerita, Ethnic Studies/California State Univ., Hayward; Blood on the Border: A Memoir of the Contra War, 2005, etc.) survey, which is hardly a new strategy. Indeed, the author says little that hasn’t been said before, but she packs a trove of ideological assumptions into nearly every page. For one thing, while “Indian” isn’t bad, since “[i]ndigenous individuals and peoples in North America on the whole do not consider ‘Indian’ a slur,” “American” is due to the fact that it’s “blatantly imperialistic.” Just so, indigenous peoples were overwhelmed by a “colonialist settler-state” (the very language broadly applied to Israelis vis-à-vis the Palestinians today) and then “displaced to fragmented reservations and economically decimated”—after, that is, having been forced to live in “concentration camps.” Were he around today, Vine Deloria Jr., the always-indignant champion of bias-puncturing in defense of native history, would disavow such tidily packaged, ready-made, reflexive language. As it is, the readers who are likely to come to this book—undergraduates, mostly, in survey courses—probably won’t question Dunbar-Ortiz’s inaccurate assertion that the military phrase “in country” derives from the military phrase “Indian country” or her insistence that all Spanish people in the New World were “gold-obsessed.” Furthermore, most readers won’t likely know that some Ancestral Pueblo (for whom Dunbar-Ortiz uses the long-abandoned term “Anasazi”) sites show evidence of cannibalism and torture, which in turn points to the inconvenient fact that North America wasn’t entirely an Eden before the arrival of Europe.

A Churchill-ian view of native history—Ward, that is, not Winston—its facts filtered through a dense screen of ideology.

Pub Date: Sept. 16, 2014

ISBN: 978-0-8070-0040-3

Page Count: 296

Publisher: Beacon Press

Review Posted Online: Aug. 18, 2014

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2014

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