Ain't Burned All the Bright by Jason Reynolds & Jason Griffin

Source of book: Borrowed from the library

 

This was a totally random read. Here’s how it happened. Our local indie bookstore features a new book every weekday, selected by one of their employees, who does a little writeup for social media. One day, this book was featured, and it sounded interesting. Plus, I had heard of Jason Reynolds, and wanted to check him out. So, I requested it from our library system. Apparently, a bunch of other people had the same idea, and it ended up coming in a few months later. 

 

Ain’t Burned All the Bright is an unusual book, and thus a bit difficult to describe. On the one hand, it is a single longish poem, divided into three sections. But it is more than that. It is a personal story of surviving the Covid pandemic, and about the ongoing survival of police brutality, and the inhumanity of humankind, and family, and a lot besides. 

 

It is also a work of visual art. There are no page numbers, and only a line or two appears on each page. Jason Reynolds wrote the words, while his long-time best buddy and collaborator Jason Griffin created the haunting and evocative art. 

 

In all, it is a visceral multi-media work of art. I use multi-media in the pre-electronic sense, and meaning primarily visual art. But I think it is best read aloud, which makes it even more multi-media. It speaks in images, it speaks in words, and it speaks in the sounds those words make. 

 

The words themselves are beautiful, and both descriptive and emotional. The small cast of characters - the narrator and his family of five - each bring their personalities to the work, and I think most of us can recognize something of ourselves in it. 

 

The opening lines recur throughout the poem, sometimes as is, but more often with subtle changes. 

 

“And I’m sitting here wondering why my mother won’t change the channel 

And why the news won’t change the story

And why the story won’t change into something new

Instead of every-hour rerun about how we won’t change the world

Or the way we treat the world

Or the way we treat each other”

 

There are some other phrases that I just love. For example, this description of the television and its blare of negative news:

 

“High-definition glare of low-definition life”

 

Or this one, which resonates with me, about how it felt that first year of the pandemic. 

 

“And it feels like I’m the only person who can tell we’re all suffocating”

Reynolds means it in more ways than one. The struggle to breathe encompasses the symptoms of Covid, but also systemic racism, economic inequality, insecurity, the general state of the world. 

 

I read the book in about 20 minutes - enough time to read it out loud and enjoy the pictures. It isn’t that long, although the book is thick - and very heavy due to the glossy color printing. I am glad the publisher was willing to spend enough to create a high-quality book, one that feels good in the hand, and looks amazing. 

 

The book is, apparently, aimed at teens. I would say that there is nothing in there that would be problematic for kids either, and adults will find it thought provoking. Poetry lovers will appreciate Reynold’s delicious use of words, and the musical cadence of the rhythms. I’m glad I picked this up.