A Book A Week

Curdle Creek has long been a sanctuary for its residents, an all-Black community seemingly frozen in time since the late 1800s. This quiet, isolated world offers safety and stability, especially when compared to the volatile, racially charged 1960s that rage beyond its borders. Yet, this peace comes at a cost. Osira, a 45-year-old widow, has lived her entire life in Curdle Creek, a town bound by tradition where adherence to strict rituals is the price of survival. One such ritual, the annual "Moving On," demands that the community votes for one resident to sacrifice each year in exchange for collective well-being. It's a harsh and unquestioned reality, especially for Osira, whose mother is one of the town’s ruling matriarchs.

Despite spending her life within these rigid confines, Osira begins to see cracks in the veneer of this supposed utopia. Her own husband was "moved on" years ago, and her children have mysteriously vanished. With her world slowly unraveling, Osira begins questioning the traditions she’s lived by and whether life in Curdle Creek is worth the price. As doubt stirs within her, Osira embarks on a journey into the past, seeking the truth about her community and the rules that have governed it for so long.

I’ll admit, the striking cover first drew me to Yvonne Battle-Felton’s Curdle Creek. Its gothic mystery vibe was impossible to resist, and when the publisher offered me the audiobook, it felt like the ideal pick for spooky season. But this isn’t horror in the conventional sense—the cover only hints at the deeper, more intricate narrative inside. Battle-Felton has created a fever dream of a novel, delving into themes of race, motherhood, and tradition. The questions the story raises aren’t easily answered, which may shape your overall impression of it.

Osira, the protagonist, is trapped in a dilemma, torn between the life she’s always known and the possibility of something different. The first three-quarters of the novel delves into this internal conflict, delivering thought-provoking drama. However, in the final act, Osira embarks on a time-travel journey that pushes the narrative in a direction that left me more confused than intrigued. Complex themes like those in Curdle Creek are often best conveyed through straightforward storytelling, which the book largely does well. Despite an overwrought ending, it remains a compelling exploration of the allure of utopia and the harsh costs often hidden beneath its surface.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 76)

"Break down the self, offer yourself up like dust to the universe."

Evie Boyd's life is in a kind of crisis. A teenager towards the end of the 1960's, she has few friends and her parents have gotten a divorce. While her dad chases younger women, her mother falls for loser after loser. Evie finds herself a stranger in her own home.

All of that changes when she sees a mysterious group of girls at the park. She is drawn to the carefree and unconventional way the girls dress and carry themselves. To Evie, the girls represent everything that is missing from her life. She quickly becomes enthralled by the older girl of the group, Suzzane, who accepts her as part of their gang.

Evie's obsession is only amplified by her parent's disapproval of her new friends. When she finally goes to the group's ranch and meets their enigmatic leader Russell, Evie makes up her mind. These are the only people who understand her. She belongs at the ranch. Intoxicated by her life at the ranch, Evie may be too blind to see the dark undercurrent to Russell and his followers. Blinded by the youthful bliss of acceptance, Evie finds herself under the influence of a cult about to exact unimaginable violence.

The Girls is a brilliant debut novel by author Emma Cline. Since Cline sold her manuscript for a reported 2 million dollars, the book has been the subject of persistent hype. Such buzz nearly takes away from the achievement of this work. I went into the novel expecting a salacious retelling of the Manson Family crimes, but The Girls is more of a quiet coming of age story that just happens to be framed around this point in history. Cline uses the notoriety of these cult driven crimes to create an ever present tension to the novel. The novel alternates between the story of young Evie succumbing to the influence of the group with that of an older Evie recollecting on her nearly tragic youth. While I feel that the practice of alternating narratives has become too overused in modern literature, Cline masterfully manages these changes. The Girls may have been overshadowed by the hype that surrounded it, but that doesn't take away from the fact that this is a remarkable read and extremely promising debut.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.

(2017, 1)