Nathan Harris's The Sweetness of Water, An Astounding Debut

What a joy it is when a reader discovers a book like this incredible debut novel from Nathan Harris, a novel of such quiet beauty that the writing takes your breath away. Even the book jacket, designed by Lucy Kim, entices. The location, a farm in rural Georgia. The time, shortly after the Emancipation Proclamation freed young Black men like brothers Prentiss and Landry from enslavement, yet sent them forth with little but the clothes on their backs and their wits.

George and Isabelle Walker, a long-married couple whose relationship Harris examines in delicate, subtle detail, have lived on their land, handed down through generations, planning for their son Caleb to relieve them of the burden as they age. But George now knows that his son will not be returning from the battlefield, and unable to yet share the horrific news with his wife, which would make it real, has gone tramping in his woods without food or water, to mourn in private.

By the time George’s path crosses with the brothers,’ we aren’t sure who needs whom more. In an act of both kindness and necessity, George invites the freedmen home with an offer of a barn to sleep in and paid work for as long as they need it, bringing the wrath of the small, hidebound Georgia town of Old Ox down on his shoulders and setting in motion a catastrophic chain of events.

I stared and stared at Nathan Harris’s author photo trying to discern, from his eyes, what life experiences this young man had that afforded him the ability to delve into such an abundance of relationship issues with such maturity and then transform them on to the page. George and Isabelle, such disparate souls joined for life, share a son Caleb, a mystery to each of them, so loved yet so misunderstood. And Caleb, a diffident boy, a loner, with little enthusiasm for the land he will inherit, has only one passion, a forbidden love for Arthur, an unworthy and unattainable childhood friend.

Harris portrays the unfathomable depths of grief nestled in the bones of Prentiss and Landry. Enslaved since birth on a nearby farm, they watched as their mother was auctioned away to the highest bidder. Prentiss witnessed Landry’s constant whippings and beatings, probably brought about by his learning disabilities. The care and tenderness that Prentiss takes with his brother is breathtaking in its loveliness. The fact that they are now free to earn money to afford their move north, a tenuous dream.

If the movie rights are ever sold, the role of Isabelle, the subversive strength behind all the other characters, must be played by Frances McDormand. She represents the epitome of hope in a world gone mad in the aftermath of a war that indelibly divided neighbors and friends. This glorious novel made Obama’s top ten list this year, not to mention kudos from the Booker Prize committee among others, and it will absolutely be on mine. Race out to your library or bookstore now!

Notes from a Writer in a Funk

I have a confession to make. For a while now I have not wanted to write. In fact, putting my thoughts out there about what I’ve been reading feels like a burden so that, when I finish a review and hit “post,” I am overwhelmed with relief. This is not good. And ironically 2021 has been a stellar year for gorgeous fiction and some remarkable debuts, books that I fear I won’t do justice to.

Take for instance the National Book Award winner “Hell of a Book” by Jason Mott. How can a lowly blogger add to the glowing adjectives that follow when the NBA stamp of approval is affixed to the cover of a book, except to tell you that, while listening to this novel on my morning walks, I often had to stop and sit, stomach clenched, as the inevitable horror of another police shooting of an innocent Black man played out in my ear.

Mott’s cri de Coeur is so original, laced with humor (if dark), magical realism (a boy who appears and disappears as if he were wearing an invisibility cloak), a lampooning of the publishing industry, and a loving thank you to Black parents everywhere who expend an inordinate amount of energy trying to help their Black children reach adulthood in America. Exquisite and devastating.

Another phenomenal listen is Dr. Leana Wen’s compelling memoir and passionate plea for funding of public health initiatives. Unless you are in the D.C. area or an ardent listener of NPR you may not be familiar with Dr. Wen but she was our “go to” voice of reason during the last eighteen months of Covid confusion and misinformation. An emergency room physician, professor, CNN commentator, Washington Post columnist, and former Baltimore County health commissioner, Leana Wen has accomplished more in a couple of decades than most do in a lifetime.

“Lifelines” is the story of a Chinese immigrant raised on food stamps and public assistance, who begged for money outside grocery stores to help her parents who were already working two and three jobs to make ends meet. A Rhodes scholar who entered college at thirteen, Dr. Wen has traveled the world specializing in women’s health care and the opioid crisis, becoming one of the first physicians to call out systemic racism as a public health crisis.

Dr. Wen’s story and the telling of it is an eye-opening wake up call to all who still think that the richest country in the world provides the best health care in the world. What gets in the way? Politics.

Next up, thanks to a recommendation from one of my most trusted reading friends, “The Sweetness of Water,” a first novel from the incredible Nathan Harris.