Even though Tayari Jones' current promotional tour (which included six different appearances in Atlanta!) is focused on her latest book Silver Sparrow, I just finished reading her first novel, Leaving Atlanta, published in 2002.
I have been impressed with Jones essays (see earlier posting), but I will admit I was slow picking up this book. The thought of reading about the 1979 Atlanta child murders, a two year time period where over 20 African-American children were murdered, is not an inviting subject matter, but I now realize that although the deaths and the fears of abduction cast a shadow, the book is as much about the lives and expectations of three particular fifth grade schoolmates: Tasha Baxter, Rodney Green, and Octavia Harrison.
This book does what all good serious fiction does, it takes you into the world of these middle-school kids who, in addition to the tense atmosphere created by the abductions, also struggle with the usual awkwardness of puberty, classroom rivalries, and relationships with mothers and fathers (or absent fathers). Jones presents the different strata of the black working class – where people may be defined by whether they live in the projects or near them, can afford good clothes or not, or have brown skin pr “black, black as night” skin. (One student hangs the nickname “Watusi” on Octavia because she resembles a black African with unruly hair that “stuck out around her face like rays of the sun in a children's drawing.”) The book is divided into three sections following each child, but Jones melds these separate lives with skill. Jones' crafted prose is simple and strong and once a while she poleaxes you with a line that crushes then numbs you. (“You lose your child not like you lose your watch. You lose your child like you lose your sight. Lose your mind,” says one of the mothers.)