Jonathan Odell

Mississippi, 1847. La niña Granada nació para ser una esclava más en la plantación Satterfield y deslomarse trabajando en los campos de algodón, pero el destino la sacó de las míseras barracas y la llevó a la casa grande para convertirse en la muñeca que un ama desquiciada viste con la ropa de su hija muerta. Pero esa vida cómoda, alejada de los orígenes, termina de repente con la llegada de la curandera Polly Shine, quien escoge a la pequeña como ayudante. Negra y vieja, sabia y deslenguada, el amo accede a las exigencias de Polly porque sabe que es la única capaz de curar los esclavos enfermos y de asistir a los partos. Pero lo que el señor Satterfield desconoce es que la curandera pretende hacer algo más que sanar esos cuerpos maltratados: quiere devolver el orgullo y la dignidad a esos corazones maltrechos? Empezando por el de Granada, la niña negra que ha olvidado de qué color tiene la piel.… (meer)

I cannot recall the last time I read a book set in the South wherein the personality and cadence of the dialogue was pitch-perfect. Jonathan Odell goes way deeper than Southern parlance in “Miss Hazel and the Rosa Parks League;” he delves right into the middle of Mississippi’s idiomatic speech, much of which is expressed by suggestion. The vernacular in this book tells half the story, and because of its spot-on attitude, we know more of the characters than any well-written descriptive paragraph could ever depict.
Set in the small Delta town of Delphi, it is the 1950’s, and segregation, prejudice and class division are an issue. After Hazel Ishee, who comes from little, meets the charismatic Floyd Graham in the Rexall Drug Store in Tupelo, they marry and move to Delphi because Floyd has big dreams of starting his own car dealership. Amidst a town set in its ways and customs, they begin a life together in which Hazel knows she does not fit in. As a loner in Delphi, her ways blossom into an eccentricity the entire town talks about, then the cruel hand of fate steps in to exacerbate her isolation, which doesn’t begin to mend until Floyd hires Vida as the family’s maid. Vida has an agenda in accepting the position, which has to do with her history with the local sheriff, who lives next door. As Hazel and Vida’s relationship evolves from one of mutual suspicion to friendship, the division between the races is explored and bridged, and the reader comes to learn that no one person exists in this small town without effecting its whole. This is a fast paced, thrilling book that takes a heavy era in time and infuses it with quirky humor. The characters are well drawn and representative of certain sects of society without being campy. It is a story of people who seek to be more than they are, only to realize they have been enough all along.… (meer)

The tailored-for-bookclubs-title nothwithstanding, this was a pretty good read. Intertwining stories of two women, one white and one black, in small town Mississippi in the 1950's, it touches on various aspects of the early civil rights movement, a woman's sense of herself, and the importance of knowing and telling your own story. There are good women and bad men in it; there are also men who are not quite as bad as they think they are; women who are no better than they ought to be (that was my grandmother's gentle way of referring to women she liked all right, but didn't quite approve of); at least two very good men, and a whole lot of in-between people. Odell pokes fun at the foibles of humanity, and is not at all hesitant to give us irreverent one-armed bar-tenders, ancient one-eyed black women and clueless daddies who don't know what to do about their sons who hate wearing jeans and would rather play with homemade dolls than learn about baseball. All of the characters, with one exception, are sympathetic, at least to some degree. That exception, the Senator, is nobody's favorite human within the story. Black and white, rich and poor, male and female (including his fine wife) all have his number. He can make things happen, but no one admires him for it. There are hints of The Help in the way a group of black maids come to matter to one white woman in particular, and to the community as a whole. But in this novel these women seem to have a firmer grasp on their own stories right from the start, and the association between Miss Hazel and her own maid, Vida, begins with Vida holding all the cards. I enjoyed this story even while a part of my brain knew some of it is rather fanciful. The best comparison I can make is to Fannie Flagg's marvelous Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe. The book has recently been revised and re-issued, having originally been published in 2004 under the title The Road to Delphi. The author's note makes me believe that revision was probably a good idea, and I suppose changing the title was a smart marketing move, but I'd rather they hadn't done that.… (meer)