George Eliot or Toni Morrison or Margaret Atwood or Chimamanda Adiche could have burrowed into any one of those great situations and illuminated, rather than merely cataloging, the racial struggle of the Harlem Renaissance.Not a terrible book, and a quick read (which can be its own merit). I can imagine how powerful any of the scenes in this slight volume could have been in the hands of a more gifted craftsman. So she heads home for America, where she married a preacher for no good reason, pops out a few kids and is thoroughly disgusted by her life.I can grapple with the feeling of isolation that the protagonist's identity causes her, but the stark cause and effect of Larsen's writing leaves me cold. She is very well received there, but she feels her African American heritage makes her more of a curiosity than a part of society. After a year or so she pulls up her roots again to visit her mother's family in the Netherlands. She is rebuffed by her white relatives, then settles into a nice life in Harlem. She sets off to call on what little family she has. Quicksand by Nella Larsen made me think of better versions of the genre: Good Morning, Midnight by Jean Rhys, The Damnation of Theron Ware by Harold Fredric, or Reuben Sachs by Amy Levy, The Drowning Room by Michael Pye, even Jane Eyre (though I'm not fond of Jane Eyre).The young, bi-racial orphan wakes up one morning entirely unhappy with her life- she's a teacher, but she doesn't love it.
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