RIVER SING ME HOME

A historical novel set in the Caribbean in the 1830s.

One of the enduring horrors of slavery was its destruction of families by enslavers who literally tore children from their mothers and sold them away, never to be heard from again. That violation has happened not once but five times to Rachel, the book’s protagonist. Born enslaved on a sugar cane plantation in Barbados, she’s in the act of escaping as the book begins in 1834, running for her life with no clear goal but freedom. When she meets a formerly enslaved woman called Mama B, the older woman tells Rachel, “Me see it in your face. Your pickney. You want to find them.” From that moment, finding her lost children becomes Rachel’s quest. One of the women in Mama B’s community remembers seeing a girl who resembled Rachel in Bridgetown several years before—just the first of many handy coincidences that form much of the plot. Sure enough, Rachel finds Mary Grace working in a dress shop when she steps in to get out of the rain—and the shop owner gives her a job, too, and turns out to have a friend who has access to slave sale records that might lead to the whereabouts of two of Rachel’s sons in Guyana. It seems almost everyone she meets has some information or skill to contribute to her search—so much so it starts to strain credulity. There’s also a streak of anachronism that weakens the book’s sense of history. A formerly enslaved woman–turned–sex worker named Hope explains to Rachel why she does that kind of work: “I make money and that means I don’t have to give myself up completely.” It’s a 21st-century feminist attitude that seems unlikely for a 19th-century woman, as do some of Rachel’s meditations on the destruction of the environment wrought by plantation farming. The novel’s flaws of plot, character, and verisimilitude are frequent enough that it doesn’t achieve the inspirational power it seems to aim for.

A formerly enslaved mother’s search for her lost children is emotionally diluted by lack of craft.