#solomon northup

[deadiez]

books I read in may 2024

[cinematic-stills]

12 Years a Slave (2013)

[crowdvscritic]

crowd vs. critic single take // 12 YEARS A SLAVE (2013)

Note: This is a modified version of a review originally written for ZekeFilm. Photo credits: IMDb.com.

In 1841, Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is a free man making a living as a violinist in New York with his family. But because the claws of American slavery stretch beyond the Mason-Dixon Line, he is kidnapped and sold into forced servitude. For 12 years he is exchanged between different plantations in Louisiana, some masters conflicted about their role in his life (Benedict Cumberbatch) but more of them baleful (Michael Fassbender, Sarah Paulson, Paul Dano). He befriends the laborers beside him like Patsey (Lupita N’yongo) and Eliza (Adepero Oduye), but he never stops looking for opportunities to contact his family and for escape. 

CROWD // I’m not going to lie—12 Years a Slave was the only Best Picture winner I hadn’t seen when the 2010s ended. What’s more embarrassing to admit is why, which, clearly, wasn’t for lack of time. The reason I delayed my viewing six years was because I didn’t think I could hack it. I almost couldn’t finish Schindler’s List—why would force myself through another realistic depiction of brutality only a few generations removed?

If you’ve asked yourself the same question, know that those concerns are not ill-founded. If Tarantino’s stylized violence in Django Unchained made you squeamish, Steve McQueen’s study of the dehumanizing treatment of pre-Civil War slaves won’t gloss over anything to make you more comfortable. Of course, that’s not only warranted, it’s why this film works so well. But because the title tells us the ending, the small sliver of hope sustains us, and we know Northup’s true story will end with him overcoming one of history’s worst adversities.

POPCORN POTENTIAL: 5/10

CRITIC // Everything in 12 Years a Slave is a study of contrasts. Masters hang their slaves in the wild beauty of the Southern forests. Mistresses attack their slaves with expensive china. Overseers taunt their slaves with music to drown out their spirituals. The religious use the Bible as a weapon against the slaves who pray for deliverance. McQueen forces us to sit with these contradictions for long, unbroken shots. We sit and mourn with Solomon with every betrayal, watching and feeling his grief until it becomes our own. As he is moved from auction to house to plantation, his turmoil and those of his fellow victims becomes ours, too. We watch white actors we respect become weakly selfish at best, manically barbaric at worst, so we know why it’s so difficult for Solomon to know whom he can trust. It also reminds us if faces we thought we liked so much could portray such evil, we must be capable of such evil as well. (See Jojo Rabbit for another reminder of that.)

There’s no beauty or redemption in this chapter of America’s story, but the beauty of this film is it restores humanity to the memory of the millions of people who were denied it in their lifetimes. Instead of being grouped together as collective “slaves,” they’re Solomon and Patsey and Eliza and Emily and Robert and Jasper and Anna and Clemens. They have faces and names and families and scars, and 12 Years a Slave finds and shows them better than any movie about American slavery yet.

ARTISTIC TASTE: 10/10

[tinyreviews]

Biographies, just like real life, are usually where the plot just happens to the character.

12 Years a Slave is a 2013 biographical drama film directed by Steve McQueen from a screenplay by John Ridley, based on the 1853 slave memoir Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northup. Chiwetel Ejiofor stars, with Michael Fassbender, Benedict Cumberbatch, Paul Dano, Garret Dillahunt, Paul Giamatti, Scoot McNairy, Lupita Nyong'o, Adepero Oduye, Sarah Paulson, Brad Pitt, Michael Kenneth Williams, and Alfre Woodard.

[nimchimpskyphd]

When Solomon Northup was finally freed in 1853, he had to leave Patsey behind on Edwin Epps' plantation and I wondered if we ever found out what happened to her.

"The last we know of Patsey is what Northup described in his memoir - a highly skilled cotton picker who endured extreme physical and sexual abuse from Edwin Epps while also facing cruel jealousy from his wife. Northup wrote about having to witness her brutal whipping at Epps' command, one of the most harrowing scenes in both the book and film.

Despite extensive research by historians, no definitive records have been found of what happened to Patsey after Northup's departure. Like many enslaved people of that era, the details of her later life and death were not documented in historical records."

edit: https://www.journalofthecivilwarera.org/2017/03/enduring-legacy-patsey/ Perhaps most satisfying, Devendorf reported that “Patsy went away with our army last week, so she is at last far from the caprices of her jealous mistress.”[8]

While we do not yet know what happened to Patsey past the mid-point of the war, these recent discoveries reveal that she at least survived long enough to attain freedom in the summer of 1863.

[thebestestwinner]

Top two vote-getters will move on to the next round. See pinned post for all groups!

[chungkong-nl]

Bring your walls to life. Visit the webshop chungkong.nl today!

In the antebellum United States, Solomon Northup, a free black man from upstate New York, is abducted and sold into slavery.

Director: Steve McQueen Stars: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Michael K. Williams, Michael Fassbender

[creatingblackcharacters]

“The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth” - Violence, Violent Imagery & Black Horror

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of death, violence, blood, hate crimes, antiblackness, police violence, rape

Note! I am going to be speaking from a Black American point of view, as my identity informs my experience. That said, antiblackness itself is international. The idea of my Blackness as a threat, as a source of fear and violence to repress and to destroy, is something every Black person in the world that has ever dealt with white supremacy has experienced.

There are two things, I think, that are important to note as we start this conversation.

One: there is a long history of violence towards Black bodies that is due to our dehumanization. People do not care for the killing of a mouse in the way they care about a human. But if you think the people you are dealing with are not people, but animals- more particularly, pests, something distasteful- then you will be able to rationalize treating them as such.

Two: even though we live in a time period where that overt belief of Blackness as inhuman is less likely, we must recognize that there are centuries of belief behind this concept; centuries of arguments and actions that cement in our minds that a certain amount of violence towards Blackness is normal. That subconscious belief you may hold is steeped in centuries of effort to convince you of it without even questioning it. And because of this very real re-enforcement of desensitization, naturally another place this will manifest itself is in how we tell and comprehend stories.

There are also three points I'm about to make first- not the only three that can ever be made, but the ones that stand out the most to me when we talk about violence with Black characters:

One: Your Black readers may experience that scene you wrote differently than you meant anyone to, just because our history may change our perspective on what’s happening.

Two: The idea that Black characters and people deserve the pain they are experiencing.

Three: The disbelief or dismissal of the pain of Black characters and people.

You Better Start Believing In Ghost Stories- You’re In One

I don’t need to tell Black viewers scary fairytales of sadists, body snatchers and noncoincidental disappearances, cannibals, monsters appearing in the night, and dystopian, unjust systems that bury people alive- real life suffices! We recognize the symbolism because we’ve seen real demons.

Some real examples of familiar, terrifying stories that feel like drama, but are real experiences:

12 Years a Slave: “This is no fiction, no exaggeration. If I have failed in anything, it has been in presenting to the reader too prominently the bright side of the picture. I doubt not hundreds have been as unfortunate as myself; that hundreds of free citizens have been kidnapped and sold into slavery, and are at this moment wearing out their lives on plantations in Texas and Louisiana.” – Solomon Northup

When They See Us: I can’t get myself to watch When They See Us, because I learned about the actual trial of the Central Park Five- now the Exonerated Five- in my undergrad program. Five teen Black and brown boys, subjected to racist and cruel policing and vilification in the media- from Donald Trump calling for their deaths in the newspaper, to being imprisoned under what the Clintons deemed a generation of “superpredators” during a “tough on crime” administration. And as audacious as it is to say, as Solomon Northup explained, they were fortunate. The average Black person funneled into the prison system doesn’t get the opportunity to make it back out redeemed or exonerated, because the system is designed to capture and keep them there regardless of their innocence or guilt. Their lives are irreparably changed; they are forever trapped.

Jasper, Texas: Learning about the vicious, gruesome murder of James Byrd Jr, was horrific- and that was just the movie. No matter how “community comes together” everyone tells that story, the reality is that there are people who will beat you, drag you chained down a gravel road for three miles as your body shreds away until you are decapitated, and leave your mangled body in front of a Black church to send a message… Because you’re Black and they hate you. To date I am scared when I’m walking and I see trucks passing me, and don’t let them have the American or the Confederate flag on them. Even Ahmaud Arbery, all he was doing was jogging in his hometown, and white men from out of town decided he should be murdered for that.

Do you want to know what all of these men and boys, from 1841 to 2020, had in common? What they did to warrant what happened to them? Being outside while Black. Some might call it “wrong place wrong time”, but the reality is that there is no “right place”. Sonya Massey, Breonna Taylor- murdered inside their home. Where else can you be, if the danger has every right to barge inside? There is no “safe”.

It is already Frightening to live while Black- not because being Black is inherently frightening, but because our society has made it horrific to do so. But that leads into my next point:

“They Shouldn’t Have Resisted”

Think of all the videos of assaulted and murdered Black people from police violence. If you can stomach going into the comments- which I don’t, anymore- you’ll see this classic comment of hate in the thousands, twisting your stomach into knots:

“if they obeyed the officer, if they didn’t resist, this wouldn’t have happened”

Another way our punitive society normalizes itself is via the idea of respectability politics; the idea that “if you are Good, if you do what you are Supposed to do, you will not be hurt- I will not have to hurt you”. Therefore, if my people are always suffering violence, it must be because we are Bad. And in a society that is already less gracious to Black people, that is more likely to think we are less human, that we are innately bad and must earn the right to be exceptional… the use of excessive violence towards me must be the natural outcome. “If your people weren’t more likely to be criminals, there wouldn’t be the need to be suspicious of you”- that is the way our society has taught us to frame these interactions, placing the blame for our own victimization on us.

Sidebar: I would highly suggest reading The New Jim Crow, written in 2010 by Michelle Alexander, to see how this mentality helps tie into large scale criminalization and mass incarceration, and how the cycle is purposely perpetuated.

You have to constantly be aware of how you look, walk and talk- and even then, that won’t be enough to save you if the time comes. The turning point for me, personally, was the murder of Sandra Bland. If she could be educated, beautiful, a beacon of her community, be everything a “Good” Black person is supposed to be… and still be murdered via police violence, they can kill any of us. And that’s a very terrifying thought- that anything at any point can be the reason for your death, and it will be validated because someone thinks you shouldn’t have “been that way”. And that way has far less to do with what you did, than it does who you are. Being “that way” is Black.

My point is, if this belief is so normalized in real life about violence on Black bodies- that somehow, we must have done something to deserve this- what makes you think that this belief does not affect how you comprehend Black people suffering in stories?

Hippocratic Oath

Human experimentation? Vivisection? Organ stealing? Begging for medicine? Dramatically bleeding out? Not trusting just anyone to see that you are hurt, because they might take advantage? All very real fears. The idea that pain is normal for Black people is especially rampant in the healthcare field, where ideas like our melanin making our skin thick enough to feel less pain (no), an overblown fear of ‘drug misuse’, and believing we are overexaggerating our pain makes many Black people being unwilling to trust the healthcare system. And it comes down to this thought:

If you think that I feel less pain, you will allow me to suffer long before you believe that I am in pain.

I was psychologically spiraling I was in so much pain after my wisdom teeth removal, and my surgeon was more concerned about “addiction to the medication”. Only because Hot Chocolate’s mom is a nurse, did I get an effective medicine schedule. My mother ended up with jaw rot because her surgeon outright claimed that she didn’t believe that she was in more than the ‘healing’ pain after her wisdom teeth were removed. She also has a gigantic, macabre (and awesome fr) scar on her stomach from a c-section she received after four days of labor attempting to have me… all because she was too poor and too Black to afford better doctors who wouldn’t have dismissed her struggles to push.

As a major example of dismissed Black pain: let’s discuss the mortality rate of Black women during childbirth, as well as the likelihood of our children to die. When we say “they will let you bleed to death”, we mean it.

“Black women have the highest maternal mortality rate in the United States — 69.9 per 100,000 live births for 2021, almost three times the rate for white women, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Black babies are more likely to die, and also far more likely to be born prematurely, setting the stage for health issues that could follow them through their lives.”

Even gynecology roots in dismissal (and taking brutal advantage of) Black women's pain:

“The history of this particular medical branch … it begins on a slave farm in Alabama,” Owens said. “The advancement of obstetrics and gynecology had such an intimate relationship with slavery, and was literally built on the wounds of Black women.” Reproductive surgeries that were experimental at the time, like cesarean sections, were commonly performed on enslaved Black women. Physicians like the once-heralded J. Marion Sims, an Alabama doctor many call the “father of gynecology,” performed torturous surgical experiments on enslaved Black women in the 1840s without anesthesia. And well after the abolition of slavery, hospitals performed unnecessary hysterectomies on Black women, and eugenics programs sterilized them.”

If you think Black characters are not in pain, or that they’re overexaggerating, you’re more likely to be okay with them suffering more in comparison to those whose pain you take more seriously- to those you believe.

What’s My Point?

My point is that whatever terrifying scene you think you’re writing, whatever violent whump scenario you think you’re about to put your Black characters through, there’s a chance it has probably happened and was treated as nonimportant (damn shame, right?) And when those terrifying scenes are both written and read, the way their suffering will be felt depends on how much you as a reader care, how much you believe they are suffering.

There’s a joke amongst readers of color that many dystopian tales are tales of “what happened if white people experienced things that the rest of us have already been put through?” Think concepts like alien invasion and mass eradication of the existing population- you may think of that as an action flick, meanwhile peoples globally have suffered colonization for centuries. The Handmaid’s Tale- forced birthing and raising of “someone else’s” children, always subject to sexual harassment by the Master while subject to hate from the Mistress- that’s just being a Mammy.

There’s nothing wrong with having Black characters be violent or deal with violence, especially in a story where every character is going through shit. That is not the problem! What I am trying to tell you, though, is to be aware that certain violent imagery is going to evoke familiarity in Black viewers. And if I as a Black viewer see my very real traumas treated as entertainment fodder- or worse, dismissed- by the narrative and other viewers, I will probably not want to consume that piece of media anymore. I will also question the intentions and the beliefs of the people who treat said traumas so callously. Now, if that’s not something you care about, that’s on you! But for people who do care, it is something we need to make sure we are catching before we do it.

“So I just can’t write anything?!”

Stop that. There are plenty of examples of stories containing horror and violence with Black characters. There’s an entire genre of us telling our own stories, using the same violence as symbolism. I’m not telling you “no” (least not always). I’m telling you to take some consideration when you write the things that you do. There’s nothing wrong about writing your Black characters being violent or experiencing violence. But there is a difference between making it narratively relevant, and thoughtlessly using them as a “spook”, a stereotypical scary Black person, or a punching bag, especially in a way that may invoke certain trauma.

The Black Guy Dies First

The joke is that we never survive these horror movies because we either wouldn’t be there to begin with, or because we would make better decisions and the narrative can’t have that. But the reality is just that a lot of writers find Black characters- Black people- expendable in comparison to their white counterparts, and it shows. More of a “here, damn” sort of character, not worth investment and easy to shrug off. The book itself I haven’t read, just because it’s pretty new, but I’m looking forward to doing so. But from the summaries, it goes into horror media history and how Black characters have fared in these stories, as well as how that connects to the society those characters were written in. I.e., a thorough version of this lesson.

Instead, I wrote an entire list of questions you could possibly ask yourself involving violence or villainy involving a Black character. Feel free to print it and put it on your wall where you write if you have to! I cannot stress enough that asking yourself questions like these are good both for your creation and just… being less antiblack in general when you consume media.

Black Horror/Black Thriller

We, too, have turned our violent experiences into stories. I continue to highly suggest watching our films and reading our stories to see how we convey our fear, our terror, our violence and our pain. There are plenty of stories that work- Get Out, The Angry Black Girl and her Monster, Candyman, Lovecraft Country (the show) and Nanny are some examples. There’s even a blog by the co-writer of The Black Guy Dies First who runs BlackHorrorMovies where he reviews horror movies from throughout the decades.

Desiree Evans has a great essay, We Need Black Horror More Than Ever, that gets into why this genre is so creative and effective, that I think says what I have to say better than I could.

“Even before Peele, Black horror had a rich literary lineage going back to the folklore of Africa and its Diaspora. Stories of haints, witches, curses, and magic of all kinds can be found in the folktales collected by author and anthropologist Zora Neale Hurston and in the folktales retold by acclaimed children’s book author Virginia Hamilton. One of my earliest childhood literary memories is being entranced by Hamilton’s The House of Dies Drear and Patricia McKissack’s children’s book classic The Dark-Thirty: Southern Tales of the Supernatural, both examples of the ways Black authors have tapped into Black history along with our rich ghostlore.” “Black horror can be clever and subversive, allowing Black writers to move against racist tropes, to reconfigure who stands at the center of a story, and to shift the focus from the dominant narrative to that which is hidden, submerged. To ask: what happens when the group that was Othered, gets to tell their side of the story?”

For on the nose simplicity, I’m going to use hood classic Tales From The Hood (1994) as an example of how violence can be integrated into Black horror tales. Tales From The Hood is like… The Twilight Zone by Black people. Messages discussing issues in our community, done through a mystical twist. Free on Tubi! If you want to stop here before some spoilers, it’s an hour and a half. A great time!

In the first story, a Black political activist is murdered by the cops. The scene is reflective of the real-world efforts to discredit and even murder activists speaking out against police violence, as well as the types of things done to criminalize Black citizens for capture. The song Strange Fruit plays in the background, to drive the point home that this is a lynching.

The second story deals with a Black little boy experiencing abuse in the home, drawing a green monster to show his teacher why he’s covered in wounds and is lashing out at school.

The fourth story is about a gangbanger who undergoes “behavioral modification” to be released from prison early. Think of the classic scene from A Clockwork Orange. He must watch as imagery of the Klan and of happy whites lynching Black bodies (real-life pictures and video, mind you!) play into his mind alongside gang violence.

Isn’t Violence Stereotypical or antiblack?

That last story from Tales From The Hood leads into a good point. It can be! But it does not have to be! Violence is a human experience. By suggesting we don’t experience it or commit it, you would be denying everything I’ve just spoken about. We don’t have to be racist to write our Black characters in violent situations. We also don’t have to comprehend those situations through a racist lens.

Even experiences that seem “stereotypical” do not have to be comprehended that way. I get a LOT of questions about if something is stereotypical, and my response is always that it depends on the writing!!! You could give me a harmless prompt and it becomes the most racist story ever once you leave my inbox. But you could give me a “stereotypical” prompt and it be genuine writing.

Let’s take the movie Juice for example. Juice in my honest to God opinion becomes a thriller about halfway in. On its surface, Juice looks like bad Black boys shooting and cursing and doing things they aren’t supposed to be doing! Incredibly stereotypical- violent young thugs. You might think, “you shouldn’t write something like this- you’re telling everyone this is what your community is like”. First- there’s that respectability politics again! Just because something is not a “respectable” story does not mean it doesn’t need to be told!

But if we’re actually paying attention, what we’re looking at is four young boys dealing with their environment in different ways. All four of them originally stick together to feel power amongst their brotherhood as they all act tough and discover their own identities. They are not perfect, but they are still kids. In this environment, to be tough, to be strong, you do the things that they are doing. You run from cops, you steal from stores, you mess with all the girls and talk shit and wave weapons. That’s what makes you “big”. That’s what gives you the “juice”- and the “juice” can make you untouchable.

I want to focus particularly on Bishop, yes, played by Tupac. Bishop, the antagonist of Juice, is particularly powerless, angry, and scared of the world around him. He puts on a big front of bravado, yelling, cursing, and talking big because he’s tired of being afraid, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it otherwise. So when he gets access to a gun- to power- he quickly spirals out of control. His response to his fear is to wave around a tool that makes him feel stronger, that stops the things that scare him from scaring him.

Now, that is not a unique tale! That is a tale that any race could write about, particularly young white men with gun violence! If you ever cared for Fairuza Balk’s character in The Craft, it is a similar fall from grace. But because it is on a young, Black man in the hood, audiences are less likely to empathize with Bishop. And granted, Bishop is unhinged! But many a white character has been, and is not shoved into a stereotype that white people cannot escape from!

Now would I be comfortable if a nonblack person attempted to write a narrative like Juice? Yes, because I’d worry about the tendency to lose the messaging and just fall into stereotype outright. But it can be done! The story can be told!

“But if Black violence bad, why rap?”

The short answer:

“In order for me to write poetry that isn’t political, I must listen to the birds, and in order to hear the birds, the warplanes must be silent.”

Marwhan Makhoul, Palestinian Poet

First, rap is not “only violence and misogyny”. Step your understanding of the genre up; there are plenty of options outside of the mainstream that don’t discuss those things. Second, every genre of music has mainstream popular songs about vice and sin. The idea that Black rappers have to be held to a higher standard is yet another example of how we are seen as inherently bad and must prove ourselves good. We could speak about nothing but drugs and alcohol and 1) there would still be white artists who do the very same and 2) we would still deserve to be treated like humans.

That said, many- not all- rappers rap about violence for the same reason Billy Joel wrote We Didn’t Start the Fire, the same reason Homer first spoke The Iliad- because they have something to say about it! They stand in a long tradition of people using poetry and rhythm to tell stories. Rap is an art of storytelling!

Rap is often used as an expression of frustration and righteous anger against a system built to keep us trapped within it. I’m not allowed to be angry? Why wouldn’t I be angry? Anger is a protective emotion, often when one feels helpless. Young Black people also began to reclaim and glorify the violence they lived in within their music, to take pride in their survival and in their success in a world that otherwise wanted them to fail. If I think the world fights against me no matter what I do, I’d rather live in pride than in shame with a bent head. Is it right? Maybe, maybe not. But if you don’t want them to rap about violence, why not alleviate the things leading to the violence in their environment?

Whether you choose to listen to their words, because the delivery scares you- and trust, angry Black men scared the music industry and society- doesn’t make the story any less valid!

Conclusion

I am going to drop a classic by Slick Rick called Children’s Story. I think listening to it- and I mean genuinely listening- summarizes what I’ve said here about how Black creators can tell stories, even violent ones, and how even the delivery through Blackness can change how you perceive them. Please take the time to listen before continuing.

I’ve been alive for 28 years and have known this song my whole life, and it just hit me tonight: not once is the kid in this story identified as Black! My perception of this story was completely altered by my own experiences, who told the story, and how it was told.

That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You can tell stories of violence that involve Black characters. I love and adore a good hurt/comfort myself! But you need to be cognizant of your audience and how they’ll perceive the story you’re telling, and that includes the types of imagery you include. It’s not effective catharsis via hurt/comfort for the audience if your Black readers are being completely left out of the comfort. “I wrote this for myself” that’s cool, but… if you wrote racism for yourself, and you’re willing to admit that to yourself, that’s on you. I’d like to think that’s not your intention! You can write these stories of woe and pain without mistreating your Black characters- but that requires knowing and acknowledging when and how you’re doing that!

@afropiscesism makes a solid point in this post: our horror stories are not just fairytales full of amorphous boogiemen meant to teach lessons. Racial violence is very real, very alive, and we cannot act like the things we write can be dismissed outright as “oh well it’s not real”. Sure, those characters aren’t real. But the way you feel about Black bodies and violence is, and often it can slip into your writing as a pattern without you even realizing it. Be willing to get uncomfortable and check yourself on this as you write, as well as noticing it in other works!

If you’re constantly thinking “I would never do this”, you’ll never stop yourself when you inevitably do! If you know what violent imagery can be evoked, you can utilize it or avoid it altogether- but only if you’re willing to get honest about it. You might not intend to do any of this, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t change the pattern, because as always, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[ed-recoverry]

List of free audiobooks on YouTube for anyone interested

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

Alice in Wonderland

Animal Farm by George Orwell

The Shadow Over Innsmouth by H P Lovecraft

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Hatchet by Gary Paulsen

Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northup

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

The Village by Caroline Mitchell

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (fuck JKR)

Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer

Upside Down by Danielle Steel

The Fiancée by Kate White

The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris

Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Theif

Accidentally Married by Victoria E. Lieske

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy

The Collector (book one) by Nora Roberts

The Lies I Told by Mary Burton

Dead Man’s Mirror by Agatha Christie

The Hobbit

The Taken Ones by Jess Lourey

The Good Neighbour by R J Parker

The Island House by Elana Johnson

Desperation by Stephan King

The Healing Summer by Heather B. Moore

The Last Affair by Margot Hunt

To Be Claimed by Willow Winter

Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

The Inn by James Patterson

Wonder by R J Palacio

Faking It With The Billionaire by Willow Fox

The Lost Years by Mary Higgins Clark

Forrest Gump by Winston Groom

The Janson Directive by Robert Ludlum

The Catcher in the Rye

The Lottery Winner by Mary Higgins Clark

Where Eagles Dare by Alistair MacLean

Death of a Nurse by M C Beaton

Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Sonnets by William Shakespeare

Frozen Betrayal by Clive Cussler

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Line of Fire by R J Patterson

Don’t Believe Everything You Think by Joseph Nguyen

The Remnant by Tim LaHaye

The Magic of Reality by Richard Dawkins

The Secret of Chimneys by Agatha Christie

Payment in Kind by J A Jance

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The Way of the Superior Man by David Deida

The Game of Life and How to Play It by Florence Scovel Shinn

The Richest Man in Babylon by George S. Clason

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

A Marriage of Anything but Convenience by Victorine E. Lieske

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

The Inheritance Game by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life

Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie

The Kama Sutra by Mallanaga Vatsyayana

The Wisdom of Father Brown by G K Chesterton

Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

Robin Hood by J Walker McSpadden

The Poor Traveller by Charles Dickens

Days on the Road: Crossing the Plains in 1865 by Sarah Raymond Herndon

Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

Atomic Habits by James Clear

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream

Trading in the Zone by Mark Douglas

The Art of War by Sun Tzu

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson

The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

The Epic of Gilgamesh

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

Man After Man

Five on a Treasure Island by Enid Blyton

The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane

Charlotte’s Web

Midsummer Mysteries by Agatha Christie

Out of Silent Planet by C S Lewis

The Valley of Fear by Arthur Conan Doyle

Eaters of the Dead by Michael Crichton

The Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie

The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole

21 Lessons for the 21st Century by Yuval Noah Harai

Hamlet by Shakespeare

[specialagentartemis]

Public Domain Black History Books

For the day Frederick Douglass celebrated as his birthday (February 14, Douglass Day, and the reason February is Black History Month), here's a selection of historical books by Black authors covering various aspects of Black history (mostly in the US) that you can download For Free, Legally And Easily!

Slave Narratives

This comprised a hugely influential genre of Black writing throughout the 1800s - memoirs of people born (or kidnapped) into slavery, their experiences, and their escapes. These were often published to fuel the abolitionist movement against slavery in the 1820s-1860s and are graphic and uncompromising about the horrors of slavery, the redemptive power of literacy, and the importance of abolitionist support.

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass - 1845 - one of the most iconic autobiographies of the 1800s, covering his early life when he was enslaved in Maryland, and his escape to Massachusetts where he became a leading figure in the abolition movement.

Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom by William and Ellen Craft - 1860 - the memoir of a married couple's escape from slavery in Georgia, to Philadelphia and eventually to England. Ellen Craft was half-white, the child of her enslaver, but she could pass as white, and she posed as her husband William's owner to get them both out of the slave states. Harrowing, tense, and eminently readable - I honestly think Part 1 should be assigned reading in every American high school in the antebellum unit.

Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs writing under the name Linda Brent - 1861 - writing specifically to reach white women and arguing for the need for sisterhood and solidarity between white and Black women, Jacobs writes of her childhood in slavery and how terrible it was for women and mothers even under supposedly "nice" masters including supposedly "nice" white women.

Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northup - 1853 - Born a free Black man in New York, Northup was kidnapped into slavery as an adult and sold south to Louisiana. This memoir of the brutality he endured was the basis of the 2013 Oscar-winning movie.

Early 1900s Black Life and Philosophy

Slavery is of course not the only aspect of Black history, and writers in the late 1800s and early 1900s had their own concerns, experiences, and perspectives on what it meant to be Black.

Up From Slavery by Booker T. Washington - 1901 - an autobiography of one of the most prominent African-American leaders and educators in the late 1800s/early 1900s, about his experiences both learning and teaching, and the power and importance of equal education. Race relations in the Reconstruction era Southern US are a major concern, and his hope that education and equal dignity could lead to mutual respect has... a long way to go still.

The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois - 1903 - an iconic work of sociology and advocacy about the African-American experience as a people, class, and community. We read selections from this in Anthropology Theory but I think it should be more widely read than just assigned in college classes.

Darkwater: Voices from Within the Veil by W.E.B. Du Bois - 1920 - collected essays and poems on race, religion, gender, politics, and society.

A Negro Explorer at the North Pole by Matthew Henson - 1908 - Black history doesn't have to be about racism. Matthew Henson was a sailor and explorer and was the longtime companion and expedition partner of Robert Peary. This is his adventure-memoir of the expedition that reached the North Pole. (Though his descriptions of the Indigenous Greenlandic Inuit people are... really paternalistic in uncomfortable ways even when he's trying to be supportive.)

Poetry

Standard Ebooks also compiles poetry collections, and here are some by Black authors.

Langston Hughes - 1920s - probably the most famous poet of the Harlem Renaissance.

James Weldon Johnson - early 1900s through 1920s - tends to be in a more traditionalist style than Hughes, and he preferred the term for the 1920s proliferation of African-American art "the flowering of Negro literature."

Sarah Louisa Forten Purvis - 1830s - a Black abolitionist poet, this is more of a chapbook of her work that was published in newspapers than a full book collection. There are very common early-1800s poetry themes of love, family, religion, and nostalgia, but overwhelmingly her topic was abolition and anti-slavery, appealing to a shared womanhood.

Science Fiction

This is Black history to me - Samuel Delany's first published novel, The Jewels of Aptor, a sci-fi adventure from the early 60s that encapsulates a lot of early 60s thoughts and anxieties. New agey religion, forgotten technology mistaken for magic, psychic powers, nuclear war, post-nuclear society that feels more like a fantasy kingdom than a sci-fi world until they sail for the island that still has all the high tech that no one really knows how to use... it's a quick and entertaining read.

[bengiyo]

Hi! I have a few questions I hope you don't mind me asking. Would you say that you like Lovely Writer more than I Feel You Linger In The Air considering the LW is a 9.5 in your book but IFYLITA is only a 9. And even though IFYLITA is only a 9, do you think you would include it within your Queer Cinema for BL Syllabus considering other notable aspects about it

Hello! I don’t mind questions at all.

Ratings are Recommendations for Me

Before we get into why each show got a different score, I think it’s important to explain my ratings system again. I come from the land of media criticism, and the primary question for me is “How easy is this to recommend to people?” I secretly use a five-stars system (5 Great, 1 Terrible) that I simple double for the 10 stars of MDL that basically works as such:

No one should watch this. It is incoherent, poorly made, and offensive.

Only genre fans could appreciate anything happening here, but it’s still offensive and/or poorly made.

Genre fans can appreciate this show, but it has major flaws in execution, narrative, or themes.

Genre fans will love this. Strong execution overall but requires some familiarity to truly appreciate.

Everyone will love this and is a fine entry point for the genre. Excellent execution and strong storytelling.

Bad Buddy is a 9.5 for me because, while it is an excellent project, the episode 12 first half sucks so hard

So why does IFYLITA get a lower score than Lovely Writer?

IFYLITA is a beautiful show with strong performances across the entire cast. However, it is a time travel show in which I don’t exactly know what the point of the time travel is, other than to enable a historical romance and enable the storyteller to play with that setting from the modern perspective. I don’t know why Jom is being dragged around the time stream or why he’s doomed to fall in love with and be torn from Yai repeatedly.

Additionally, this is a slavery romance. I am a Black gay man born and raised in the South. Solomon Northup’s autobiography is required reading, as are other first person accounts of chattel slavery in the US and the way the North surrendered Reconstruction to the South. I also watched Kindred this year after having not read Octavia Butler’s work in a long time. I am not a person who typically enjoys the power dynamics of historical romance, and I really don’t like slavery romances. I was talking with @lurkingshan yesterday about how much I didn’t like Jom and Maey sitting on the floor as Eaeang Phueng says goodbye to her family.

Finally, I think Lovely Writer is more coherent. It’s a single-season story about a potential romance between a BL actor and a BL writer. The show goes on to unpack all of the complexities surrounding these two as they are forced to collaborate and cohabitate during the filming of a show. IFYTLITA muddles its ending, and we have been reliant on spoilers from book readers to make sense of what the hell happened at the end of the episode. I don’t like that. I hate when we’re reliant on commentary from the source media to understand what the hell happened in an adaptation.

So, because of these particular issues, Lovely Writer is slightly easier for me to recommend to people over I Feel You Linger in the Air. Despite how Nonkul and Bright delivered on what may be the most accessible romantic chemistry of the year, and how much I loved the way this show tastefully approached m/m intimacy and sex, the show has some stumbles that I think diminish it slightly. I think episode 11 is incredible. I think Episode 10 is too pat. I think Episode 12 is hedging too much on a potential second season and doesn’t close off season 1 in a way that’s satisfying for me.

These are all bigger or smaller issues than others. I also very, very rarely go back and change my ratings for shows based on modern circumstances. Lovely Writer was special when it released. We don’t get IFYLITA without Lovely Writer. When I finished Lovely Writer, I thought it was one of the best shows of the year and I thought every BL fan needed to watch it. It doesn’t get a 10 because so much of the drama is about BL itself, and so there is some explaining that’s needed for people who aren’t in genre.

So, to be clear:

For me, Lovely Writer is easier to recommend to people than I Feel You Linger in the Air. That’s the .5 difference between them.

I hope that all made sense. Thanks for the question!

[cherryjuicegf]

tagged by my dear @thalassiokhtos ty <3333

rules: answer + tag nine people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with!

favorite colour: green & purple!!

last song i listened to:

last film i watched: nope (2022)

currently reading: finishing 12 years a slave by solomon northup, also wuthering heights by emily bronte, incidents in the life of a slave girl by harriet jacobs, literature and evil by georges bataille (UNI HUNTS ME FOR SPORT)

currently watching: house md <3333

currently craving: waffles.......

coffee or tea: coffee my love

tagging @iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife @staliaofatreides @standardlovers @samstree @dancingwiththefae @wren-of-the-woods @markrothkono61 @saintirulan if u want <3

[waltfrasescazadordepalabras]

Doce años de esclavitud" Basada en un hecho real ocurrido en 1850, narra la historia de Solomon Northup, un culto músico negro -y hombre libre- que vivía con su familia en Nueva York. Tras compartir una copa con dos desconocidos, Solomon descubre que ha sido drogado y secuestrado para ser vendido como esclavo en el Sur en una plantación de Louisiana. Renunciando a abandonar la esperanza, Solomon contempla cómo todos a su alrededor sucumben a la violencia, al abuso emocional y a la desesperanza. Entonces decide correr riesgos increíbles y confiar en la gente menos aparente para intentar recuperar su libertad y reunirse con su familia.

[wutheringmights]

Heirs of the Founders: The Epic Rivalry of Henry Clay, John Calhoun and Daniel Webster, the Second Generation of American Giants by H. W. Brands was given to me by my BIL as a joke. I have an on-going joke about one of the men in that title-- one I have been torturing my friends and family about for almost a decade now.

My BIL thought it would be funny if he gave me a book about said man. I thought it was about time I read it.

This book was a pain in the ass. I started this thing back in January, and it took me the full month and a half to read. The book isn't too long, but no matter how much I sat down to read it, I never felt like I made any progress. But I couldn't stop reading it, because I knew I was never finish it otherwise.

And now that I read it (and wrote out my thoughts), I’m sure I hate it.

On one hand, I like history. It was written in a very narrative way, and it was nice to get a reminder that American politics have always been a shit show.

On the other, the scope of this book was really limited. It's not about the lives of Clay, Calhoun, or Webster; but it doesn't offer a comprehensive enough look at the politics of the time to be about their careers. You cannot tell me that there wasn't a contemporaneous Black author who wrote about their policies on slavery as it was being debated.

It's not like there wasn't other figures of American history that wasn't explored. The presidents of the time were given full exposes, and there was multiple chapters on Solomon Northup. But often, Brands would reduce alternative stances to "abolitionists disagreed." Who disagreed? What was their name and what exactly did they say?

All that to say that the way the book talked about slavery was mostly okay. Again, it's limited but it was frank. The country is at a stage where if a book doesn't try to mince the evils of slavery I have to appreciate it.

But you want to know what this book did mess up? Native American history and rights.

First, Brands committed to referring to Native Americans as "Indians." This book was published in 2018.

Second, the Indian Removal Act was skimmed over, if not almost completely ignored. There is a quick reference to it at the end of a chapter about a British journalist's thoughts on Henry Clay. Allegedly, Clay made such an impassioned speech against the act that tears welled in his eyes. That seems like something worth mentioning in a book about Henry Clay's life.

I am convinced this is because Brands adores Andrew Jackson. We spent a lot of time on Jackson's military career and presidency. Everything Brands had to say about Jackson was positive. Was the infamous story of Jackson beating a man with his cane mentioned? No. Did I have to read about how Jackson was a man of honor and principal? Yes. Constantly.

I only finished this book out of sheer stubbornness. I just feel frustrated. This book felt imbued with that American mythologism that makes engaging with any American pop history a minefield to navigate. If I cared a bit more, I would google Brands to see what his politics are.

As is, I just never want to look at this book again. I can't even confidently say I learned anything as I can feel the burning holes of the book's limited perspectives and biases. How can I trust what little I thought I learned when Brands is obviously not telling the whole story. Just look at Andrew Jackson.

[reasoningdaily]

Real Slaves Speak To Us from the 1930s. Should Be Played In Schools

Armed guards watch a slave being whipped outside a slave enclosure in this 1850 drawing.

Writer Zora Neale Hurston could have had her account of Oluale Kossola, believed to be the last known survivor of the Atlantic slave trade, published 87 years ago. But Hurston’s refusal to change the first-person narrative from Kossola’s dialect into traditional American English led publishers to pass on her manuscript.

Nearly nine decades later, and long after the deaths of both Kossola and Hurston, the book is out. “Barracoon,” released this week, is the story of a teenager who was stolen, shipped and sold into slavery in the U.S., who lived to see freedom and started a proud community of African-Americans that still exists today in Alabama. It’s a testament to Hurston’s journalistic and anthropological prowess — and a continuation of her powerful legacy as a writer.

The history of the slave trade and its effects are often mischaracterized and poorly taught. Can this book bring about a better understanding of the experience of people who were enslaved in America?

Recommended reading for this episode

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

The Half Has Never Been Told: Slavery and the Making of American Capitalism Born in Slavery: Slave Narratives from the Federal Writers' Project, 1936-1938 by Edward E. Baptist

12 Years A Slave by Solomon Northup

Zora Neale Hurston: Folklore, Memoirs, and Other Writings : Mules and Men, Tell My Horse, Dust Tracks on a Road, Selected Articles

Zora Neale Hurston: Recordings, Manuscripts, Photographs, and Ephemera

[kemetic-dreams]

David Ruggles was born in Norwich, Connecticut in 1810. His parents, David Sr. and Nancy Ruggles, were free African Americans. His father was born in Norwich in 1775 and worked as a journeyman blacksmith. His mother was born in 1785 in either Lyme or Norwich and worked as a caterer. Ruggles was the first of eight children.

In 1826, at the age of sixteen, Ruggles moved to New York City, where he worked as a mariner before opening a grocery store. Nearby, other African-Americans ran grocery businesses in Golden Hill (John Street east of William Street), such as Mary Simpson (1752-March 18, 1836). After 1829, abolitionist Sojourner Truth (born Isabella ("Bell") Baumfree; c. 1797 – November 26, 1883) also lived in lower Manhattan. At first, he sold liquor, then embraced temperance. He became involved in anti-slavery and the free produce movement. He was a sales agent for and contributor to The Liberator and The Emancipator, abolitionist newspapers.

After closing the grocery, Ruggles opened the first African American-owned bookstore in the United States. The bookstore was located on Lispenard Street near St. John's park in what is today the Tribeca neighborhood. Ruggles' bookstore specialized in abolitionist and feminist literature, including works by African-American abolitionist Maria Stewart. He edited a New York journal called The Mirror of Liberty, and also published a pamphlet called The Extinguisher. He also published "The Abrogation of the Seventh Commandment" in 1835, an appeal to northern women to confront husbands who kept enslaved African women as mistresses.

Ruggles was secretary of the New York Committee of Vigilance, a radical biracial organization to aid fugitive slaves, oppose slavery, and inform enslaved workers in New York about their rights in the state. New York had abolished slavery and stated that slaves voluntarily brought to the state by a master would automatically gain freedom after nine months of residence. On occasion, Ruggles went to private homes after learning that enslaved Africans were hidden there, to tell workers that they were free. In October 1838, Ruggles assisted Frederick Douglass on his journey to freedom, and reunited Douglass with his fiancé Anna Murray. Rev. James Pennington, a self-emancipated slave, married Murray and Douglass in Ruggles' home shortly thereafter. Douglass' autobiography 'Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass' explains "I had been in New York but a few days, when Mr. Ruggles sought me out, and very kindly took me to his boarding-house at the corner of Church and Lespenard Streets. Mr. Ruggles was then very deeply engaged in the memorable Darg case, as well as attending to a number of other fugitive slaves, devising ways and means for their successful escape; and, though watched and hemmed in on almost every side, he seemed to be more than a match for his enemies."

Ruggles was especially active against kidnapping bounty hunters (also known as "blackbirds"), who made a living by capturing free African people in the North and illegally selling them into slavery. With demand high for slaves in the Deep South, another threat was posed by men who kidnapped free blacks and sold them into slavery, as was done to Solomon Northup of Saratoga Springs, New York, in 1841. With the Vigilance Committee, Ruggles fought for fugitive slaves to have the right to jury trials and helped arrange legal assistance for them.

His activism earned him many enemies. Ruggles was physically assaulted and his bookshop was destroyed through arson. He quickly reopened his library and bookshop. There were two known attempts to kidnap him and sell him into slavery in the South. His enemies included fellow abolitionists who disagreed with his tactics. He was criticized for his role in the well-publicized Darg case of 1838, involving a Virginia slaveholder named John P. Darg and his slave, Thomas Hughes.

Ruggles suffered from ill health, which intensified following the Darg case. In 1841, his father died, and Ruggles was ailing and almost blind. In 1842, Lydia Maria Child, a fellow abolitionist and friend, arranged for him to join a radical Utopian commune called the Northampton Association of Education and Industry, in the present-day village of Florence, Massachusetts.

Applying home treatment upon hydropathic principles, he regained his health to some degree, but not his eyesight. He began practicing hydrotherapy, and by 1845, had established a "water cure" hospital in Florence. This was one of the earliest in the United States. Joel Shew and Russell Thacher Trall (R.T. Trall) had preceded him in using this type of therapy. Ruggles died in Florence in 1849, at the age of thirty-nine, due to a bowel infection