Elle
What if the famous underground railroad wasn’t just a series of underground tunnels, but an actual underground railroad, with stations and trains on tracks? Colson Whitehead answers that question in The Underground Railroad.
Cora is a victim of or at least a witness to every possible atrocity committed against her fellow slaves on the Randall plantation where she grew up and it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Colson is not afraid to slap his readers in the face with very real details of America’s terrible history and it’s very hard to read. I was already crying by the end of the first part, which is 8 pages long.
Although it elicited a lot of emotion from me, the writing itself is very matter-of-fact and unemotional, which felt a little jarring at first, but soon came to feel like a nod to how powerless Cora and the other slaves were. Every horrible thing that happened was just a fact of life, and they had to remove themselves from it without dwelling on it or allowing themselves to feel those painful emotions. Even after her escape, Cora often felt powerless, unable to be herself, unable to embrace any of her true emotions. I think the writing reflected that perfectly.
However, there were some jumps in time here and there that were really confusing for me as there was a severe lack of cohesive transition between flashbacks and the now. Sometimes it was a couple weeks ago, sometimes it was right now, sometimes it was suddenly a month later, and I often had no idea which it was until I read quite a bit and figured it out for myself.
I loved Cora and I loved the premise, but the erratic timeline and the incredibly abrupt ending unfortunately hindered my overall enjoyment of the book. The ending is really the thing that messed with me the most. I can’t figure out why it ended so suddenly!
Still, I’d recommend The Underground Railroad to basically everyone ever. It’s an important story that highlights a part of American history that too many people ignore but shouldn’t be forgotten, and it is absolutely worth the read.
What if the famous underground railroad wasn’t just a series of underground tunnels, but an actual underground railroad, with stations and trains on tracks? Colson Whitehead answers that question in The Underground Railroad.
Cora is a victim of or at least a witness to every possible atrocity committed against her fellow slaves on the Randall plantation where she grew up and it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Colson is not afraid to slap his readers in the face with very real details of America’s terrible history and it’s very hard to read. I was already crying by the end of the first part, which is 8 pages long.
Although it elicited a lot of emotion from me, the writing itself is very matter-of-fact and unemotional, which felt a little jarring at first, but soon came to feel like a nod to how powerless Cora and the other slaves were. Every horrible thing that happened was just a fact of life, and they had to remove themselves from it without dwelling on it or allowing themselves to feel those painful emotions. Even after her escape, Cora often felt powerless, unable to be herself, unable to embrace any of her true emotions. I think the writing reflected that perfectly.
However, there were some jumps in time here and there that were really confusing for me as there was a severe lack of cohesive transition between flashbacks and the now. Sometimes it was a couple weeks ago, sometimes it was right now, sometimes it was suddenly a month later, and I often had no idea which it was until I read quite a bit and figured it out for myself.
I loved Cora and I loved the premise, but the erratic timeline and the incredibly abrupt ending unfortunately hindered my overall enjoyment of the book. The ending is really the thing that messed with me the most. I can’t figure out why it ended so suddenly!
Still, I’d recommend The Underground Railroad to basically everyone ever. It’s an important story that highlights a part of American history that too many people ignore but shouldn’t be forgotten, and it is absolutely worth the read.