Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, by Mildred D. Taylor

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, by Mildred D. Taylor

This novel, first published in 1976, is another on the long list of important works that I am working to catch up on. It is the story of a black family struggling to survive in 1940s rural Mississippi, as told by a nine year old girl in that family. For anyone ignorant of, or even not well informed about, the ugliness of full-throated racism, this book must be an eye opener.  In that time and place it was taken as a norm, by whites and blacks alike, that whites considered blacks inferior, and that they could get away with acting on that belief. Whites saw that as the rightful way of the world; blacks saw it as the unjust way of the world.

Taylor presents a nuanced portrait of both races. There is Cassie, the proud justice-seeking nine year old who narrates the story, her parents who are world-wise and determined not to be swindled out of their beloved two hundred acres, Uncle Hammer with his quick temper, and TJ, a foolish neighbor boy who ultimately pays for his dishonesty and his need to be liked. Among whites, most are mean-spirited in their behavior toward blacks, but there is the exception, Mr. Jamison, an attorney who uses the law and a lot of courage to stand up for the black people in the story.

Some whites reading the story may say it portrays them unfairly but I suspect it's pretty accurate for 1940s Deep South. That setting is only three quarters of a century after the Civil War in which poor southern whites fought and died to preserve their right to own black slaves, and their belief in the inherited fiction that whites are superior to blacks. Now, another three quarters of a century later, there is still deep-seated racism, latent and overt, despite enormous progress toward equality of opportunity and freedom for blacks to achieve. In the 2016 film, "I Am Not Your Negro," the civil rights leader James Baldwin asserts that whites need to ask themselves why they need to have someone they can look down on. Three quarters of a century from now , will our descendants still need to confront that deeply moral question?