By Sikivu Hutchinson
Excerpted from The North Star
The universe that we’ve inherited from Toni
Morrison is:
The pell mell swoon of Jazz and its , mysterious crazy in love triangle set against the backdrop of the
Great Migration of African Americans to NYC, caught up in its golden glow and cruel tease; the Blue-eyed
devastation of Pecola, dreaming her truth, against incest, in the grinding
poverty of segregationist Ohio; The twisted bond and ride or die Sula-passion between two dramatically different black women; one fuck-you mad, one respectable
and maybe veering towards madness; The elusive thrum of Paradise in an all-black town pulsing in the terror of the Middle
Passage where black women’s fight for self-determination, bodily autonomy, and
the Beloved blasted the white gaze to bits.