I don't remember what made me want to listen to this book, but I am glad I did. I'm not even sure I knew what it was about before I pressed the "Play" button.
It's about the son of a black, Christian man and a white, Jewish woman. It's also about identity, finding one's past, and family.
Much of it takes place before I was alive and is about people far beyond my scope. I don't live in a city, I'm not Jewish, I'm not Christian, I'm not black, I don't have children, I have a basic knowledge of my maternal family history, I didn't grow up in the sixties/seventies, I haven't encountered much racism/bigotry (not enough for it to impact how I've lived)...and yet, I could still relate to many parts of this memoir. That's partially the writing; James McBride is good at telling a tale and so, it would seem, was his mother. Also, though, I do come from a large family (not twelve-kids large, but still large enough if you count cousins and grandparents who were around more often than not), I don't know my paternal history, I value education, I'm also a person in this world, and I love a good story.
I was fascinated by the life of this woman who left her own culture to enter another and was, as a result, declared dead by her family. And about this man who learned about race relations not through growing up black, per se, but through growing up with the only white mother in the neighborhood.
It left me feeling good about being part of this pack of people who struggle to get their balance in life and figure out who they are and where they've come from.