My audiobook journey continues with Toni Morrison’s Beloved which, I can say without a doubt in my mind, is the finest piece of literature I have ever consumed.
I don’t have much to say about the story itself, which I knew quite well before coming to this audiobook, and Morrison herself is someone for whom I harbour something beyond adoration. I didn’t quite understand who she was (still don’t) until I saw the documentary The Pieces I Am. I was struck, most of all, by her confidence, which was not at all boastful, but shockingly quiet. In the softest voice possible, she said something to the effect of “I write because I’m good at it, and better than most of my peers who try and fail to tell our stories.” I don’t think I’ll ever forget that, or its effect.
The version of Beloved I got a hold of was read by Morrison herself. An experience I did not prepare myself well enough for. I thought, well, I’ll finally read Beloved and I’ll do it with an audiobook which is faster, and passive, and I’ll be able to say I’ve done it. Nope. I was spellbound, completely. Her voice —I can’t explain it. I can hear her overbite, a slight lisp, an accent I can’t place, the pauses, the short and long syllables, the vocabulary, the imagery, I—. You know how certain folks say they reread so and so every year, but we all know it’s a lie, because which well read person would choose to reread the Republic or Bleak House every year when there is so much else to read? So many more ways to construct a sentence, to create a mythology, to describe a sigh? Still, I cannot wait until the day comes for me to reread Beloved. Perhaps not next year, but the time will come, and it cannot come soon enough.