Review by Booklist Review
Caribbean novelist Condegrew up in Guadeloupe, but her parents took all eight children to Paris every year. She writes these small essays, dark, sweet, or acid etched by turns, about growing up the youngest, full of stories and wondering about the stories not told. Her mother looms in these pages--the book is dedicated to her--strict, serious, always concerned about place and about honor. Condeconjures heat, and scent, and the childhood bitterness of loss and desire unfulfilled. There's not much joy in her fierce evocation of friendship, of siblings, of school, but there is a pride in the intensity of their recollection. This memoir, which was translated from the French by her husband, won the 1999 Prix Yourcenar. --GraceAnne A. DeCandido
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Caribbean novelist Cond? (Windward Heights) discloses her complex childhood in her native Guadaloupe and in Paris, and celebrates imagination and youthful defiance in this short, heartfelt memoir. A surprise pregnancy and the youngest of eight children, Cond? was fearful that she "had not been desired." The young girl underwent a startling transformation from a shy, polite youngster to a problem child as she watched her Francophile parents turn their backs on all things non-Western and adopt a superior attitude toward neighbors. With a vivid memory for mood and details, Cond? recalls the moral decline of her older brother, Sandrino, her torturous days in grade school and painful incidents stemming from her parents' insensitivity, such as firing the faithful family servant, Madonne, when she took a day off to care for her gravely ill daughter, who later died. Cond?'s other losses include the departure of Gilbert, her first love; the souring of her closest friendship; and the death of Mabo Julie, her family's beloved maid. She recollects a childhood boyfriend whose love letter, copied from a novel, rhapsodized inaccurately about her "blue eyes." While her astute portrait of her paranoid, class-conscious parents is unsparing, Cond? waxes poetic and nostalgic about her native country, offering an exciting travelogue that rivals anything in the glossies. Upon reaching the final page and the start of Cond?'s journey to adulthood, readers will regret that this brief, colorful and lively remembrance has ended, although a second volume is promised and eagerly awaited. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
Cond's first nonfiction book, translated from French by her husband, is a delight and the winner of the 2001 Prix Yourcenar. Best known for her fiction, including Segu and I, Tituba, Black Witch of Salem, Cond (French and Caribbean literature, Columbia) spent her childhood in Guadeloupe and Paris and now lives in New York. This book of childhood memoirs shows her sensitivity to the world around her, as she brings her stories to life with sensual detail. Her mother's pride at becoming a celebrated schoolteacher, despite being the illegitimate child of an illiterate woman, is brought forth in her tale "Happy Birthday, Mummy." Here Cond relays her attempt to please her mother by writing an essay that uses the monsters and goddesses of Greek mythology to describe her. The essay does not have the effect that Maryse wanted, and after reading the essay to a disappointed mother, she realizes, "You must never tell the truth to those you love. Never. Never." In this story, as in others, Cond gives us an appealing and understated portrayal of her life lessons, while also maintaining dramatic tension and suspense. Recommended for all libraries. Barbara O'Hara, Free Lib. of Philadelphia (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by School Library Journal Review
Adult/High School-In 17 brief chapters, Conde describes growing up in Guadeloupe as the youngest child of a proud, black, well-to-do "pair of alienated individuals." She introduces the people who left the strongest impressions on her, such as her first boyfriend; her beloved nanny; and her irreverent, streetwise brother. The author recounts how she first copes with, then rebels bitterly against, her parents' rejection of the popular black culture that surrounded them to embrace and emulate everything French. The family spent every summer vacation in Paris, and Conde soon noticed how she was allowed to play unsupervised in the streets with the children there, but was forbidden to do the same back home for fear that she would develop a love for the music and culture of her native land. Her eventual troublemaking in school and her constant bickering with her parents prompted her many siblings to label her as spoiled. As a teen, she was sent to study in Paris, and her experiences there made her wish that she knew more about her own heritage. The irony and humor in this memoir will appeal to most teens. Also, those who are studying French will enjoy the liberal sprinkling of French terms throughout.-Joyce Fay Fletcher, Rippon Middle School, Prince William County, VA (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
The Guadeloupian novelist (Windward Heights, 1999, etc.) remembers her privileged but harsh childhood, and the long-coming compassion and awareness that arose from it. Winner of the 1999 Prix Yourcenar (for a French-language work by a US resident), Tales is comprised of 17 vignettes that reveal the intricacies of Guadeloupian society and the matching complexities of the author's parents and how they made her a wary rebel throughout her youth. Born into a prominent black family whose parents believed they were the "most brilliant and the most intelligent people alive," Conde (French Caribbean Literature/Columbia Univ.) is the last of eight children, and from childhood feels slighted by the "commonplace incidents" surrounding her birth, which leave her with the desire to return to the womb and "rediscover a happiness" she knew she had lost "forever." School and everyday life bring little comfort: She alternately faces the injustice of being beaten by a mysterious boy for her family's inconsiderate treatment of a servant and by a white girl for being black. She is allowed to play with French-speaking children when the family is in Paris, but forbidden to play with Creole mates in Guadeloupe. This mix leads Conde, at age 10, to determine her parents "alienated," and vow not to be so herself. Thus she spent the next several years rebelling, coming to some solace only as she accepted her mother in her old age and embraced her Caribbean identity. Throughout, Conde relates her experiences with the decisiveness of youth and the imperiousness of her mother, whose complexity she seems to have inherited as much as the arthritis she decries. Fittingly, the author dedicates this work to her mother. While the relentless losses, injustices, and unkindnesses make for disturbing reading-as does the author's ungratefulness and cramped take on life-this is a useful look at the psychological consequences of intolerance.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Review by Booklist Review
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Review by Library Journal Review
Review by School Library Journal Review
Review by Kirkus Book Review
