Books 2013: The Color Purple (and some ramblings about the British 'Bully' Empire)
I don’t think I’ve ever read a book in an American accent before. I’ve thought in an American accent thanks to a trip there that involved a lot of constant American talking, but I’ve never read so much like that. Even writing this, I’m still stuck in that mind-set of the deep south.
I finished The Color Purple.
I’m in awe. I’m not sure what to think and yet I can’t help but love every inch of the pages I have just finished reading. More often than not a book ends several pages before the back cover, not this one, the very last page was the only non-story page and even that felt like it was merely the author signing off.
I’d been told many times about The Color Purple, about how great it was, or that it was filled with some intense themes. I expected wall to wall rape and distress. It wasn’t like that and I am relieved. Instead it was filled with so much of life; of love, of distress, of hope and loss and all of the things in between.
The idea of reading a book made up of merely letters wasn’t entirely appealing. The last book like that I read which was, basically, one long letter didn’t quite capture my heart. The Color Purple on the other hand did. I longed for Celie to find some happiness, to find something other than the difficulties she’d faced in her earlier life, to find her sister.
I was surprised that there were gay themes hiding out in the middle of the pages. I’m not sure when exactly the story is set but it’s in a time when homosexuality would be considered legally wrong as well as morally. Yet it felt so natural that Shug and Celie felt something more for each other.
I’ve condemned the actions of the old British Empire for many years now, the way they fought and bullied their way around the world. Seeing it from the perspective of those living in a place that has been taken over only made me feel worse. How my ancestors could possibly think it was okay to do what they did still sickens me. I wonder what it would be like to be uprooted like some of the African tribes, or like the Jews in World War Two, and I get an ache in my heart and a lump in my throat that I can’t stop. Then I look at what we have done with the world since then and how much of a mess we’re in now and I see it as though it’s all been for nothing.
Would we not have been happier to have lived as we did? To have tribes around the world happily getting on with life, whether we agreed with their traditions or not, they lived as they lived and nothing else mattered; until someone came along waving new things under their noses. It still breaks my heart that we’ve destroyed so much of what once made the world very special. The cultures we have now are fascinating, but imagine if we’d kept the cultures that once existed? When I visited Washington DC I took a trip to a Native American museum, it was filled from top to bottom with so many different Native American tribes that it was a little overwhelming. However, the sheer number of different cultures that once existed in the USA was so much more fascinating (I hear Canada had plenty too?! Then there’s Australia and New Zealand, Africa, the list doesn’t really end…). And we destroyed every single part of it with our British ways, acting like we were the Kings of the world when in fact we were nothing but bullies.
I’m sorry world, I’m just so very sorry.
So, yeah, The Color Purple. It provoked so many emotions that I can’t quite describe, it pushed me into a world I hadn’t really had much chance to understand before and I learnt something along the way. I’m a bout of tears away from it being the perfect read and the lump in my throat is almost enough.
I finished The Color Purple.
I’m in awe. I’m not sure what to think and yet I can’t help but love every inch of the pages I have just finished reading. More often than not a book ends several pages before the back cover, not this one, the very last page was the only non-story page and even that felt like it was merely the author signing off.
I’d been told many times about The Color Purple, about how great it was, or that it was filled with some intense themes. I expected wall to wall rape and distress. It wasn’t like that and I am relieved. Instead it was filled with so much of life; of love, of distress, of hope and loss and all of the things in between.
The idea of reading a book made up of merely letters wasn’t entirely appealing. The last book like that I read which was, basically, one long letter didn’t quite capture my heart. The Color Purple on the other hand did. I longed for Celie to find some happiness, to find something other than the difficulties she’d faced in her earlier life, to find her sister.
I was surprised that there were gay themes hiding out in the middle of the pages. I’m not sure when exactly the story is set but it’s in a time when homosexuality would be considered legally wrong as well as morally. Yet it felt so natural that Shug and Celie felt something more for each other.
I’ve condemned the actions of the old British Empire for many years now, the way they fought and bullied their way around the world. Seeing it from the perspective of those living in a place that has been taken over only made me feel worse. How my ancestors could possibly think it was okay to do what they did still sickens me. I wonder what it would be like to be uprooted like some of the African tribes, or like the Jews in World War Two, and I get an ache in my heart and a lump in my throat that I can’t stop. Then I look at what we have done with the world since then and how much of a mess we’re in now and I see it as though it’s all been for nothing.
Would we not have been happier to have lived as we did? To have tribes around the world happily getting on with life, whether we agreed with their traditions or not, they lived as they lived and nothing else mattered; until someone came along waving new things under their noses. It still breaks my heart that we’ve destroyed so much of what once made the world very special. The cultures we have now are fascinating, but imagine if we’d kept the cultures that once existed? When I visited Washington DC I took a trip to a Native American museum, it was filled from top to bottom with so many different Native American tribes that it was a little overwhelming. However, the sheer number of different cultures that once existed in the USA was so much more fascinating (I hear Canada had plenty too?! Then there’s Australia and New Zealand, Africa, the list doesn’t really end…). And we destroyed every single part of it with our British ways, acting like we were the Kings of the world when in fact we were nothing but bullies.
I’m sorry world, I’m just so very sorry.
So, yeah, The Color Purple. It provoked so many emotions that I can’t quite describe, it pushed me into a world I hadn’t really had much chance to understand before and I learnt something along the way. I’m a bout of tears away from it being the perfect read and the lump in my throat is almost enough.