Source of book: Audiobook from the library, but I also own this.
I probably should note at the outset that I realized that I cannot possibly discuss this book without giving spoilers, so I will start with a short summary of the idea, and then let the reader determine whether to proceed, or to read the book first.
This classic of the Harlem Renaissance is about the practice of “passing” - light skinned African Americans who hid their black heritage and “passed” as white in society. This was more of a phenomenon back in the Jim Crow era than it is now, for obvious reasons.
The protagonist, Irene, grew up with Clare, another light-skinned (and blonde haired) black girl, although they were not close friends. Later, she runs into Clare randomly, and realizes that she is “passing,” having married a rich white man who has no idea Clare is black.
Clare feels isolated, with no one who shares her background to talk to, so she worms her way into Irene’s life, with eventually tragic results.
This quick summary should suffice to say what the book is about, at least on the surface. But there is a lot more going on. Issues of colorism, class, gender, and sexuality are all barely below or at the surface. Complicated relationships, such as that between Clare and Irene, but also Irene and her husband Brian, are also crucial to the story, and in fact are every bit as interesting as the racial theme.
It is these additional themes, and social complexity that elevate this book above a simple morality tale of “passing is bad and will end badly.” That, and Larsen’s excellent, taut writing. This is a relatively short book, and is a great example of writing that has everything necessary, and nothing that is not. Every detail matters, and every detail will eventually explain something else.
My teens and I listened to this one on our recent camping trip, and my 17 year old in particular loved it.
Nella Larsen was an interesting character. She was born to a Danish immigrant mother and an African American father. Her mother later remarried another Danish immigrant and had a second daughter. Nella therefore grew up black in a white family, isolated both from her peers at school and her greater African American community. This sense of alienation and lack of belonging informs Larsen’s fiction.
Eventually, Larsen became a nurse, rising to a career as a public health nurse in New York City. After a period as a librarian, she returned to nursing until her death in her 70s. She only wrote a pair of novels and a handful of short stories, never relying on her writing to support herself.
Larsen was married for a while to Elmer Imes, only the second African American to earn a doctorate degree in physics - he had quite the storied career. Unfortunately, his affair with a white woman ended the marriage. Larsen never remarried.
All of these personal experiences make their way into her writing one way or another.
Back to the book itself. As I noted, the book is a lot more complex than a simple morality tale. All of the characters are conflicted, complicated, and flawed.
During their childhood, Irene and her family looked down on Clare. After all, her father was a janitor - and white - and also a notorious drunk and abuser who dies in a brawl. Irene’s family is part of the new black middle class in Chicago.
This issue of class continues through the book. After Clare is raised by her white aunts (and treated like a servant), she elopes with her rich husband, Jack, and lives a wealthy lifestyle. She hasn’t forgotten her roots, however, which is apparent in the way that Irene - now married to a doctor - treats her dark-skinned servant Zulena compared to the ease in which Clare converses with her as an equal.
Irene isn’t all that thrilled about Clare’s reappearance in her life. She is a disrupting force, a threat to Irene’s security. And security is what Irene craves most. That’s why she has married well, and keeps her husband well in line. That way she and her two sons have the security and stability she wants most.
Clare, in contrast, perhaps because she grew up with a more difficult childhood, takes risks. She gets what she wants, as Irene puts it. But she feels isolated in white society. After all, she can tell no one about her childhood, her background, her history. It is all small talk and white lies.
No surprise, then, that she seeks out Irene. Despite the class differences, they do have a lot in common. Irene too “passes” from time to time - she looks vaguely “Spanish” or “Gypsy,” and is thus able to dine in segregated establishments. She never actively conceals her blackness; she merely omits to say anything and lets others draw conclusions.
Physically, Clare is able to pass well. The blond hair, the pale skin, and her endless self-confidence carry her through.
There are weird cracks, however. Jack calls her “nig,” a joke about the fact that she has gotten darker over time. He is a raging and vicious racist, however, and he expresses his bigotry loudly and often. The scene where he rattles on about how much he hates n-----rs in front of his wife, Irene, and another friend who is passing, is horrifying and painful.
There is an interesting subtext to this, though. Is he perhaps turned on by the fantasy that Clare is black? Certainly this has been a phenomenon since, well, forever. Both the exoticism of the foreign, and the forbidden crossing of the color line under slavery and Jim Crow. White men have always, it seems, been drawn to black women.
Once Clare comes back into Irene’s life to stay, at great risk to Clare’s safety, I might add, new complications arise.
Where to even start with this one. There is a lot of sexual tension, but it isn’t what Irene thinks it is. This book was written in 1929, so nothing is explicit. But. It is definitely there.
Brian hates being a doctor - it is implied he went to medical school due to family pressure. He hates living in America, ostensibly because of the bigotry.
To further complicate things, Irene and Brian’s marriage seems loveless - and sexless. Irene mentions at one point that she couldn’t think of Brian as anything more than her husband and the father of her children. (And her source of security.) They have separate rooms, and never, in the course of the book, seem to have any sexual connection.
This is in contrast to how Irene talks about Clare, constantly focusing on her beauty, the details of her skin, face, figure, and more. Seriously, the language used is about as erotic as it can be without becoming explicit. It is never said outright, but Irene is both crushing hard on Clare even while jealous of her and in deep denial of her feelings. Her sexual attraction is buried deep and converted to irritation at Clare for coming back into her life. And into paranoia that Clare is having an affair with Brian.
Where does Brian want to go? Well, he wants to go to Brazil. And sure, maybe Brazil is less bigoted - and racially mixed. But at the time the book was written, “going to Brazil” was also a veiled reference to homosexuality - Brazil was seen as more tolerant of LGBTQ people at the time. An analogue from my own era would be “moving to San Francisco.” So, yeah, complicated.
The tragic ending is left ambiguous. What really happened in that split second? Was it suicide? Was it murder, and if so, who did it? Or was it simply, as the police decide, a tragic accident?
Also left unexplored - the book ends with the death - are the feelings of the characters. It is implied that Jack is both furious at discovering his wife is black, and also still drawn to her. Irene seems to feel guilt about Clare’s death, but presumably is also relieved that her marriage to Brian is safe, at least for the time being. Either had a potential motive for murder.
And what was Clare thinking? Did she decide to take her own life once her cover was blown? Or did she faint? We will never know.
In some ways, this book seems a bit of an anachronism. Outside of the MAGA-verse, interracial marriages and relationships are commonplace and widely accepted. Nationwide in the United States, 1 in 12 marriages are interracial or interethnic. For new marriages, in 2019 nearly 1 in 5 was. Here in my home state of California, the rate is even higher - about 1 in 4 - and rising. For my kids’ generation, I swear there are more interracial relationships than that.
As a fascinating coincidence, our next-site neighbors on our list night of camping included grandpa and grandma in a family - he was black, she was white - and the grandkids were climbing all over him. It’s just…normal. At least outside of the MAGA-verse, where segregation seems to be the goal and the fantasy. Sigh.
For the majority of us Americans - 94% supposedly (although curious if Trump Era 2.0 has changed that) interracial marriage is something we approve of. After all, these are friends - and indeed family for many of us now.
In an integrated society, there is no need to “pass.” That is the future I and so many others desire for our world.
I definitely recommend this book. It is far from formulaic, and has so many layers of complexity and humanity, and is well crafted.
Our audiobook was narrated by Robin Miles, who is a regular audiobook reader across genres. I have nothing but good to say about her job here. Everything was professional, evocative, and transparent. I’m sure there are other versions out there, but this one was worth recommending.
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