Entry #040: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969)
I’ve fallen into the habit of prioritizing reading the books on my list instead of thinking about them and writing these posts, which means that I actually finished this book around a month ago, or so. Generally speaking, that’s not really a problem, but then when I go to write about it, I have forgotten so many of the transient thoughts that occur to me just when I’ve finished the book, and which are hard to capture again at a much later date. Nonetheless, this book made a great impression upon me (as I’m sure it has done for every person that opens it up) so I will hardly have a difficult time discussing how important of a work it is.
It’s unbelievable to me the I hadn’t picked it up before this, considering that I would think of it as being one of the most seminal American works of literature that I have ever read. Not only for the content, but the way it is presented. She has such a way with words as to make even prose seem like poetry, with every word essential, concise and clear. That quality is what has stood out to me as the differentiation between the good and the great authors on this list so far; there haven’t really been any “bad” books per se, but rather ones where the author’s style of writing didn’t resonate with me as much as others.
The story is one of immense trauma, and the overcoming of that trauma, but it is not so simple as that--our protagonist cannot simply live as if her life is not marked by the horrible experiences of her childhood. But she makes them a part of herself, using them instead of letting them use her. That’s why even when the end of the book arrives and there has been no triumphant conclusion, the reader feels as though the protagonist is powerful, capable, and will live her life intentionally. In that sense, it is a much more realistically triumphant conclusion, believable even if we didn’t already know it was based on the author’s life.