Men We Reaped
Men We Reaped is a very good, very difficult book. It will break your heart without offering any hope or comfort. There are no solutions to the problems presented here, just hope that knowledge of the problems might lead to change.
Over the course of five years, Jesmyn Ward lost 5 of her friends and family members. They were killed by drugs and guns, by drunk drivers and personal demons. They were killed, ultimately by a nameless, faceless "they", a society that couldn't be bothered to care whether they lived or died.
Ward approaches the story from two directions. She presents the deaths in reverse chronological order, alternating with chapters of her childhood in Mississippi. This structure allows her to build to the heart of her grief: the death of her brother when he was 19 years old. Killed by a drunk driver who ultimately served 5 months in jail for fleeing the scene.
The structure lends itself very well to the story. As the deaths advance back in time, Ward becomes more bewildered by them, her grief more raw. At the beginning of the book, which opens with the most recent death, it has almost become routine. Ward is nearly numb, going through the motions of a funeral. It makes for an easier access point, especially for someone for whom this is a foreign experience.
But as the deaths add up and the book moves backward through time, Ward becomes less analytical and more emotional. She looks for, and ultimately finds, a pattern to the chaos, though it's of little comfort. It's clear, by the end, that her seeming numbness is merely a cover for the depth of pain caused by her brother's death. A pain that the book can describe and paint pictures of but that it can't actually convey to anyone who hasn't lived through it.
Over the course of five years, Jesmyn Ward lost 5 of her friends and family members. They were killed by drugs and guns, by drunk drivers and personal demons. They were killed, ultimately by a nameless, faceless "they", a society that couldn't be bothered to care whether they lived or died.
Ward approaches the story from two directions. She presents the deaths in reverse chronological order, alternating with chapters of her childhood in Mississippi. This structure allows her to build to the heart of her grief: the death of her brother when he was 19 years old. Killed by a drunk driver who ultimately served 5 months in jail for fleeing the scene.
The structure lends itself very well to the story. As the deaths advance back in time, Ward becomes more bewildered by them, her grief more raw. At the beginning of the book, which opens with the most recent death, it has almost become routine. Ward is nearly numb, going through the motions of a funeral. It makes for an easier access point, especially for someone for whom this is a foreign experience.
But as the deaths add up and the book moves backward through time, Ward becomes less analytical and more emotional. She looks for, and ultimately finds, a pattern to the chaos, though it's of little comfort. It's clear, by the end, that her seeming numbness is merely a cover for the depth of pain caused by her brother's death. A pain that the book can describe and paint pictures of but that it can't actually convey to anyone who hasn't lived through it.
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