‘Sing, Unburied, Sing’ is a Raw, Emotional Tale

“Sorrow is food swallowed too quickly, caught in the throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe.”

History can be harsh. Harsher when it forces you to confront a detestable chapter in American history. Harshest when it’s told in a manner that makes you feel as if you are living it. “Sing, Unburied, Sing” by Jesmyn Ward, is a raw, authentic and emotional story that takes the personal history of one African-American family and combines it with the shared history of race.

Jojo and his three-year-old sister Kayla are being raised by their grandparents in a small house in the fictional town of Bois Sauvage, Mississippi. River “Pop” is a quiet, dignified man that provides Jojo with a positive male influence. Philomene “Mam” gives Jojo and Kayla the comforts of a mother but is now battling cancer and bed bound. The children’s drug-addict mother, Leonie, pops in an out of their lives. Leonie’s main focus in life is on the children’s incarcerated white father, Michael. When Michael tells Leonie that he is being released from prison, she pulls Jojo and Kayla from the safe confines of their grandparent’s house to embark on a road trip to get Michael. Somehow, she believes this car trip will solidify them as a family, but her addictions only place them in jeopardy. In the small space of the car the tension increases as the selfish and sad Leonie lashes out at Jojo and Kayla because she hates herself that much. When she finally gets to the prison and picks up Michael, their desperate longing for each other and their addictions only solidifies the notion that there is no room for children in their world. Michael attempts to connect with Jojo and Kayla on the car trip back home but he and Leonie are so tied together in their misery that they never gel. Kayla constantly and instinctively reaches for Jojo which both infuriates and frustrates Leonie and Michael. When they eventually return to Pop and Mam’s, Jojo marches out of the car with his sister in his arms with nary a glance backwards. The power in his rejection is palatable.

If this was the full story arc, it would be classified as a pretty good family drama. What gives “Sing, Unburied, Sing” added weight is the two young African-American men who surface as ghosts. Leonie’s brother Given was murdered during a hunting trip and only appears to Leonie when she is high. He’s a fateful presence that reminds her of all the mistakes she has made in life. Givens death is what brings Leonie and Michael, a convoluted connection that fuels their passion and addiction. They are pathetic and unlikeable, but I did feel a touch of pity for them. I knew what made them.

Richie is our second ghost and he’s from Pop’s past. When Pop was a kid, he was hauled off to prison for the crime of being inside a house with his brother. Pop tries to protect young Richie from the realities of prison life but it’s an onerous task that he fails at in the end. I imagined quite a few versions of what happened to Richie. None of them came close to the truth.

Ward has a wonderful way with words. I had no trouble falling into the rhythmic dialect of Jojo, Pop, Leonie and Richie. Her descriptions are fantastic and inventive. It got a little otherworldly at the end when it went from a moving account of a family in conflict to a semi-gothic treatise on ghosts. This didn’t spoil anything for as the boys’ stories are riveting, most especially Richie’s. But I would have been happier with the story ending with redemption for the living and not the dead. Then again, an ending where the family continues on as they had before is really a truer version of life, isn’t it? Monumental things will come and go, and we can only hope that something is learned in those moments to keep us going, keep us grounded. As Mam said to Jojo “I hope I fed you enough. While I’m here. So you carry it with you. Like a camel [….] Maybe that ain’t a good way of putting it. Like a well, Jojo. Pull that water up when you need it.”

Thank you for your time!