A master class in storytelling from the inside out.
The “Martha” in the title novella that kicks off this spirited, witty, and illuminating array of short fiction is the recently deceased mother of Cynthia Garrison, a St. Louis-born-and-bred Black professional who is en route to the funeral home where Martha’s remains are being prepared for burial. Cynthia, caustic, judgmental, and perpetually dissatisfied, is staging in her mind a kind of extended wake for her caustic, judgmental, and perpetually dissatisfied mother. Not even the congenial, supportive presence of Janine Chalifour, a white co-worker who accompanies Cynthia on a trip to the mortuary, can distract Martha’s daughter from taking acrid inventory of her entitled mother’s unending torrent of insults, complaints, “harrumph[s],” and nagging correctives. The kind of mom who will routinely say things to her daughter like, “And this is what you’re wearing today?,” then cross her arms and “look from [Cynthia] to the doorknob and back. Like a bossy and overindulged German shepherd ready for its morning walk.” At the same time, Cynthia, who has had little time to acclimate herself to Martha’s death, knows there are aspects of this mostly exasperating legacy that have given her just as much to be grateful for, and it is through this private understanding that the story offers readers with similarly challenging families a route toward tentative yet uneasy reconciliation. This blend of edgy humor, discerning compassion, and acute observation pervades all these tales of intelligent, resourceful Black women who may not be as resilient as they think they are, but find surprising reserves of strength and self-sufficiency, even at their worst or, at least, most unsettling times.
Haynes’ first collection of stories is a treasure trove of warmth, smarts, and wisdom.