On Juneteenth

Impossible to sum up. Despite ostensibly dealing with Juneteenth, and bracketing it in its preface and last chapter, the inner book itself is a swirly mix of history and memoir covering the long history of Blacks in what we now call the state of Texas along with the author's recollections of — and mature adult reflections on — growing up there. It's a profound work: the word “nuanced” isn't nuanced enough to describe the complexities of Gordon-Reed's relationship with her home state; with her unlearning of the “history” she learned growing up.

You may not give a damn about Texas — I never have, and in fact nearly gave up on the book when I realized it was so Texas-centric — but I can guarantee that you'll learn, and gasp, and grit your teeth reading this book. You may think Texas is a subhuman shithole today (or at least the white male power base), but compared to past centuries it's nirvana. And it's important to understand that history in order to understand the U.S. today.

Footnote: thank you anonymous donor; thank you host of the Los Pueblos Little Library; thank you inventor of Little Libraries; thank you Universe. This was a surprise find.