<p>Actually, I didn’t understand why Mr. Johnny (was that his name??) left Hilly for Miss Celia. I don’t know what held Mr. Johnny and Miss Celia together. I couldn’t understand why he stuck with her. IMO, that was a tiny weakness in the book.</p>
<p>^ The fact that she looked like Marilyn Monroe and that she was a simple girl from a poor background w/out all the pretensions of Hilly and her crowd?</p>
<p>Veryhappy: I thought it was sex</p>
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<p>at the Junior League Ball, page 328</p>
<p>Huh. Could be.</p>
<p>Weeks later, I’m still freaked out about <em>voice</em></p>
<p>[Book</a> Review: The Help by Kathryn Stockett | California Literary Review](<a href=“http://calitreview.com/2526]Book”>http://calitreview.com/2526)</p>
<p>Usually if I just google a bit I find someone who has already asked my questions, except a whole lot better than I ever could have. My only thoughts not covered in this review: Zora Neale Hurston wrote about being a maid and worked as a maid as a young woman and in the 1950’s.</p>
<p>To Kill a Mocking Bird is mentioned several times in the book. Harper Lee uses a voice that is authentic to her.</p>
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</p>
<p>Like for Skeeter in the story, this book will greatly advance Stockett’s career. Is the author deliberately provocative in her use of voice? To advance her career?</p>
<p>Mary13: I want to respond to your questions but won’t be able to until tomorrow, sorry.</p>
<p>I am about halfway through (it’s the book for my neighborhood book club) and I love it!</p>
<p>Alh you wrote: Originally Posted by alh
I saw The Help in the NYT book review and the Huffington Post and then every book-club-belonging friend was reading it. I put it off for so long because, having grown up in the world she describes, it is a really hard story for me and I knew I was going to be very disturbed by the voice. I just can’t understand if she wanted to tell this story she didn’t do as her character Skeeter and make it a cooperative effort. </p>
<p>Alh, as a “northerner” the “voices” were unsettling for me, because I did not know if a white (Southern) woman could do it with respect and authenticity. </p>
<p>As far as using the “voices” Stockett forces the reader to see the world through the ‘eyes’ of the black maids in the most “intimate” way.
It was VERY effective in helping us feel the “sun’s scorching heat” while the white woman relaxed in the shade pool side. We are there in the scene.
The “voices” helped us know what it was like to be working in a home, loving the children you helped raise, but know they would turn out to one day be filled with prejudice.
It helped us know what it was like to have to use a bathroom built just for you, because you were deemed unclean.</p>
<p>The voices worked for me.</p>
<p>As far as Celia and Johnny, clearly Celia represents the blonde bombshell vs, the uptight conservative Hilly. In the 60’s Celia would be quite appealing. She was kind. </p>
<p>Very Happy, I agree, Johnny’s character was not well developed, except during the scene when he addressed Minny near the end. He was kind. </p>
<p>Alh, the line between Skeeter and Stockett is quite blurred, and I do feel that makes the theme of the book much more REAL. All the things I thought about Skeeter, could be said about Stockett. Certainly, she admits to living with the “fallout” from writing this kind of book. </p>
<p>Tell me Alh, do you still live in the South, and if so, how is the book being received?</p>
<p>The <em>voice</em>.<br>
I confess my ignorance here. As a born and raised “Yankee”, the voice was never an issue for me as I read the book. I never thought about it.<br>
In fact, at the back of the book I was somewhat surprised at the ambivalence the author confessed to in writing the book in the vernacular. I have a good Southern friend (white male) who is very well read (loves Faulker) and he explained it to me.<br>
So, I get it and feel rather dumb. I would be very interested to hear what a Southern black woman thinks - one whose own mother or grandmother etc… worked as a maid in a Southern home.<br>
Personally, the voice helped me connect with the characters in the book. I don’t think I could have connected otherwise.</p>
<p>After all of that - my favorite character is Minny. I loved her. She reminds me of me - her outspokenness. Her mouth has gotten her into trouble - and so has mine. I love her spunk, her love for her children. I love how she cared for Miss Celia. I think the secret that she had with Miss Celia and with her husband made her feel powerful, while she was in such a powerless position in her life. I feel badly for her marital troubles and I think if she were a contemporary she would have left him.</p>
<p>I read this book in 3 days on back-to-back cross-country flights for my neighborhood book club. Unfortunately we had to postpone our discussion because everyone was snowed in, so I’m enjoying this discussion.
Status quo and fear of change. The winds of change were blowing with the civil rights movement and Rosa Parks. I think Hilly was afraid of change that she could see was inevitable.</p>
<p>I grew up in that time period. My father was active in the civil rights movement. His father, my grandfather, was a racist. Once I asked him how he could be so very different from his father and he answered that he was inspired by his classmate, a doctoral student named Martin Luther King Jr.
It is taught. Children notice the differences in color but they do not make value judgements unless they are told that one color is better than another.</p>
<p>^ Agree on both counts. And I’d add that Hilly feared change because it would lessen her power over others. I think prejudice was only part of her motivation; essentially, she was a control freak.</p>
<p>12rmh18, that is very cool about your father!</p>
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<p>I agree that sex was a factor, but I think that the kindness that SJChessMom mentioned, as well as Celia’s lack of pretense or prejudice, was the greater appeal. (At least I hope that’s the case—it would be a better basis for a long-term marriage.) Hilly’s “Antarctica” extended well beyond the physical, in my estimation. She had a cruel streak. Even her own mother didn’t seem to like her (and vice versa).</p>
<p>As to “voice,” what did you think of the Junior League Ball chapter (from which alh quoted above)? It’s the only chapter with a third person omniscient narrator, and it is written in the present tense. It seemed a little bit out of place, but Stockett must have felt it was necessary.</p>
<p>I agree with the reasons mary13 suggests for Johnny’s leaving Hilly for Celia. Celia showed a lot of gumption at the end, even if her persistance to be a part of the small town high society was misplaced. She was very egalitarian at heart and kind. (That was a strange scene with the crazy naked intrruder!)
Hilly was just evil-why do you think all the women around her gave her the right to have so much power? She was not at all likable.
My favorite charactor was Abileen. She was very strong and willing to stand up for what was right against impossible odds. She also was very compassionate towards the child she took care of.</p>
<p>I enjoyed the book but found some of the anachronisms quite jarring. The book was supposed to be taking place in the early 60’s but was full of mid-to-late 60’s cultural references. To me that really undermined the sense of authenticity, especially because having lived through the time there was such a huge change in attitudes and lifestyle expectations over the course of the decade.</p>
<p>^^^What anachronisms, calmom? Stockett herself acknowledged that Shake & Bake didn’t come until later in the decade, but that hardly seems significant. What else???</p>
<p>
No, because Elizabeth was weak and MM was closer to Aibileen than her own mother. In fact, there still could be hope for MM in the future as a rebellious teenager.
I think Mary13 hit the nail on the head with the control issue: Sex was one factor, but Johnny left Hilly because she tried to control him.
I don’t know that working relationships necessarily constitute racism. I think the more accurate term should be the “underclass.” And by that definition, “people of color” has been expanded in today’s society to include many Spanish-speaking people who work as housekeepers and gardeners.</p>
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<p>Wasn’t there a place where Minny describes what she values about Leroy? I didn’t find Minny’s relationship with her husband very believable. </p>
<p>To me all the characters were pretty one dimensional but I think the plot, and especially all the descriptions of setting, were well done and it has the potential to be an interesting movie.</p>
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</p>
<p>I agree with your assessment. Cecia does tell Minny that they married because she was pregnant, doesn’t she?</p>
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<p>Very interesting observation, which I hadn’t considered. What did you think about it?</p>
<p>Mary13: Thank you for giving me a place to discuss the book.</p>
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<p>I have recently moved back to the south after an absence of more than 30 years. At several large all white gatherings, when this book has come up, women first recall how the black domestic workers in their childhood homes taught them the majority of the housekeeping skills they possess and express gratitude. Then they start telling story after story of almost unbelievable humiliations of these women they remember from their childhoods. Some of these stories make Stockett’s book seem almost disneyesque. To be honest, I haven’t found anyone here as troubled as I am about her use of voice. The main responses are that I am indulging in reverse racism and that no one owns a narrative. My take is that I could tell this story from the perspective of a child in the ‘60s (sort of on the model of Harper Lee) but that it would be unbelievably presumptuous to tell the story in the voice of the person who lived it because I really can not realistically even pretend to know what it was like to be working in a home, loving the children you helped raise, but know they would turn out to one day be filled with prejudice. When anyone questions whether these women really loved us (and why exactly would they? economic necessity forced them to spend all day with an exploitive employer’s children instead of their own) someone always says, “It was different for every family. Every relationship is unique.” IRL people are rolling their eyes behind my head and hoping that soon I will get over it. I’ll do my best not to post further on voice unless someone else was bothered by it, too. After all, as Stockett has Minnie say, White people have been representing colored opinions since the beginning a time. pg 128</p>
<p>^^ It is wonderful that we can discuss this book, from various backgrounds, and points of view. Especially this book! Exactly what a book discussion should be- enriching.
So, Alh thank you for sharing.</p>
<p>Before we leave this issue of “voice”, I feel that it has struck a nerve with with you.
So I just googled around, trying to find others who share your concerns.
[The</a> Help - Kathryn Stockett - Book Clubs - Penguin Group (USA)](<a href=“http://us.penguingroup.com/static/rguides/us/help.html]The”>http://us.penguingroup.com/static/rguides/us/help.html)</p>
<p>Two things of interest. One is this interview with Stockert, which others may have read.
But, the second post I will make, may address this issue for you. </p>
<p>From interview
Q. Tell us about your own family maid and your and your family’s relationship with her.</p>
<p>My grandmother’s maid was named Demetrie. She started working for my grandparents in 1955, when my father and uncle were still boys and she was twenty-eight. When they were grown, she looked after us, the grandchildren. I loved Demetrie dearly, and I felt so loved too. We got the best part of her. She wasn’t our mother, so it wasn’t her job to discipline us or make us sit up straight. She just played with us and fed us, and she liked to make us laugh. When I was little, she told me that I had a tail, and I was always turning around, looking for it. I wasn’t exactly “quick” as a child.</p>
<p>I think another reason my siblings and I had such a close connection with Demetrie is that she never had children of her own. She’d grown up poor and lived with an abusive husband. When a person has that much sadness and kindness wrapped up inside, sometimes it just pours out as gentleness. She was a gentle soul. There haven’t been enough people like her in this world.</p>
<p>Q. Since you weren’t alive in 1962, what research, if any, did you do to make sure the time period and social attitudes of the era were accurate?</p>
<p>It sounds crazy, but I would go to the Eudora Welty Library in Jackson and look at old phone books. The back section of the phone book captures so much about the mundane life in a certain time, which somehow becomes interesting fifty years later. The fancy department stores, the abundance of printing shops, and the fact that there were no female doctors or dentists— all helped me visualize the time. In the residential listings, most families just listed the husband’s name, with no mention of the wife.</p>
<p>I also read The Clarion-Ledger newspapers for facts and dates. Once I’d done my homework, I’d go talk to my Grandaddy Stockett, who, at ninety-eight, still has a remarkable memory. That’s where the real stories came from, like Cat-bite, who’s in the book, and the farmers who sold vegetables and cream from their carts everyday, walking through the Jackson neighborhoods. I found that people don’t seem to remember “social attitudes.” They remember what you could do, what you couldn’t do, and especially those people who went ahead and did both.</p>
<p>Q. You interviewed both African-Americans and whites from this time period. Was there anything surprising in what they told you?</p>
<p>It’s a tricky question to ask. It is hard to approach someone and say, “Excuse me, but what was it like to work for a white family in the South during 1960s?” I guess I felt a lot like Skeeter did in The Help. But I did hear plenty of interesting stories. One black woman from Birmingham told me she and her friends used to hide down in a ditch, waiting for the bus to take them to work. They were that afraid to stand on a street corner because white men would harass them. Still, all of the black women I spoke to were very proud of the jobs they’d had. They wanted to tell me where their white children live today and what they do for a living. I heard it over and over: “They still come to see me” and “They call me every Christmas.”</p>
<p>The surprises actually came with the white women I interviewed. I realize there’s a tendency to idealize the past, but some of the women I spoke to, especially the middle-aged generation, just fell apart before they even started talking. They remembered so many details: She taught me to tell time; She taught me to iron a man’s shirt before I got married; She taught me how to wait for the green light. They’d remember and sigh.</p>
<p>After a while, I started to better understand what they were feeling. I felt it, too. It wasn’t just that they missed these women so deeply. I think they wished that they could tell them, one last time, “Thank you for everything.” There was a sense that they hadn’t thanked them enough.</p>
<p>Q. Were you nervous that some people might take affront that you, a white woman in 2008—and a Southern white woman at that— were writing in the voice of two African-American maids?</p>
<p>At first, I wasn’t nervous writing in the voice of Aibileen and Minny because I didn’t think anybody would ever read the story except me. I wrote it because I wanted to go back to that place with Demetrie. I wanted to hear her voice again.</p>
<p>But when other people started reading it, I was very worried about what I’d written and the line I’d crossed. And the truth is, I’m still nervous. I’ll never know what it really felt like to be in the shoes of those black women who worked in the white homes of the South during the 1960s and I hope that no one thinks I presume to know that. But I had to try. I wanted the story to be told. I hope I got some of it right.</p>
<p>Q. Of the three women—Aibileen, Minny and Skeeter—who is your favorite character? Were they all equally easy or difficult to write? Were any of them based on real people?</p>
<p>Aibileen is my favorite because she shares the gentleness of Demetrie. But Minny was the easiest to write because she’s based on my friend Octavia. I didn’t know Octavia very well at the time I was writing, but I’d watched her mannerisms and listened to her stories at parties. She’s an actress in Los Angeles, and you can just imagine the look on her face when some skinny white girl came up and said to her, “I’ve written a book and you’re one of the main characters.” She kind of chuckled and said, “Well, good for you.” Skeeter was the hardest to write because she was constantly stepping across that line I was taught not to cross. Growing up, there was a hard and firm rule that you did not discuss issues of color. You changed the subject if someone brought it up, and you changed the channel when it was on television. That said, I think I enjoyed writing Skeeter’s memories of Constantine more than any other part of the book.</p>
<p>Sorry for the long post above- hope it might be interesting to those who haven’t read it.</p>
<p>Alh, The National Reading Group Month held an event in Nashville, and this issue of “voice” came up. The question was put to Stockert, who was invited author.</p>
<p>[Holly</a> Goddard Jones: Women Gather to Celebrate Reading in Nashville, Tennessee](<a href=“HuffPost - Breaking News, U.S. and World News | HuffPost”>Women Gather to Celebrate Reading in Nashville, Tennessee | HuffPost Entertainment)</p>
<p>To kick off the 2009 NRGM, over 200 book lovers gathered at Southern Festival of Books in Nashville on Saturday October 10. Authors Holly Goddard, Marie Brenner, Inman Majors, Kathryn Stockert and WNBA Award Winner, Dr. Perri Klaas appeared at a breakfast emceed by Nina Cordona, NPR Nashville’s host of “All Things Considered.”</p>
<p>When asked about the audacity it had taken to write not only about race in the south but in the voice of black characters, Kathryn Stockett said something that resonated particularly with me: she hadn’t thought, writing, that her book would ever be published, that it would ever have an audience. It wasn’t until The Help was out in the world that she realized that she, like her focal character, was airing some truths that folks back in Jackson would rather leave unacknowledged and unspoken.</p>
<p>Kathryn’s admission segued well into a later question from an audience member, about what we were working on and whether we felt pressure from editors to produce books, or certain kinds of books. Inman joked that he felt sorry for writers whose books had made money, because then their editors would expect them to produce a second, similar sort of book. </p>
<p>He turned to Kathryn. “I’m sorry,” he deadpanned, to a lot of laughter.</p>
<p>But I wonder: Is there a delightful carelessness to a first book? An energy that seems to be audacity but may, in fact, just be naivet</p>
<p>Alh, and others interested in Voice, read this review: YOU COULD HAVE WRITTEN THIS
<a href=“http://74.125.47.132/search?q=cache:toYbh9mJBZEJ:calitreview.com/2526+Stockert+The+Help+issues+with+the+book&cd=1&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us&client=firefox-a[/url]”>http://74.125.47.132/search?q=cache:toYbh9mJBZEJ:calitreview.com/2526+Stockert+The+Help+issues+with+the+book&cd=1&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us&client=firefox-a</a></p>
<p>Now this, on the face of it, should not be a problem. Toni Morrison was happy to speak in the voice of white people in her recent book A Mercy and reviewers, including this one, were happy to accept the premise. There are no rules in novels (critics have fun superimposing those later).</p>
<p>Yet when an author treads into specific territories, the ground becomes awfully muddy. We’re happy to let writers play around with being a Roman slave of the first century or a prostitute of the eighteenth, but when it comes to depicting a person who has lived through the Holocaust or the Civil Rights era, ah, then I think we hesitate. Does an author, even in the services of fiction, have a right to appropriate these stories?</p>
<p>Is Minny with her outlandish catchphrases just another version of Mammy, updated for more sensitive times? Even if stories haven’t been told, is it fair for an outsider to tell them? What would Hattie McDaniel, who worked as that $7 maid before making it to Hollywood, think of this book?</p>
<p>These may not be fair questions to ask of a novel that sets out to entertain and does so with great panache, but, being a dour reviewer, I’ll ask them anyway.</p>