First impressions review: The Stars and the Blackness Between Them, by Junauda Petrus
This young adult romance/coming of age tale begins with Trinidadian teen Audre facing exile: Her mother caught her with the pastor’s granddaughter and is sending her to live in Minneapolis with her father. Her grandmother, Queenie, reassures her: “Your first tabanca is a heartbreak that feels like a bit of death, yes…you been taught that Spirit speak the loudest when we deep in the water, drowning in trouble and fear…And, dahlin’ let me tell you something for truth: America have dey spirits too, believe me.”
In Minnesota, another girl, Mabel, is likewise coming to terms with her own queerness. Luckily, she has far more supportive parents – and when Audre, whose father happens to be a family friend, arrives, they soon grow close. But then Mabel falls ill. Audre desperately calls on her grandmother’s healing wisdom to try and save her, while Mabel forms an unexpected bond with a writer on death row.
Both main characters are well-written with distinctive voices – literally. Petrus captures their different accents and dialect in a way that you can hear them in your head without it being distracting. Audre (named for Audre Lorde, of course) is passionate and outgoing and has a bit of an earth-mother quality she gets from Queenie. Mabel is more of a tomboy and has a rather inward-looking meditative nature even before her diagnosis. Mabel also introduces Audre to her friend group, including Ursa, the hijab-wearing basketball player secretly going out with the bold activist-type Jazzy. The teen angst and hormones and struggles for self-definition are captured almost too well: it was weird to be plunged so effectively back into those feelings now that I’m twice the age of these characters!
Maybe because of that, I appreciated the characterization of the adults in the story too. The second paragraph sets the tone, and also illustrates the lyrical, sensual quality of the writing as a whole:
Queenie is pure light and sweetness and obsidian skin. She smell like spicy earth things, like sandalwood and cinnamon and dirt itself. She is strong and warrior, moving through the trees like a river, carving her way through mud, elegant, dark and slow like the molasses she say we should invoke for this journey.
Man, we can only hope to be as awesome a granny as Queenie when we get old! Mabel’s mom is a bit of a hippie1 and also likes “bougie” things like brunch. Her dad isn’t as sociable, preferring to spend time in his impressive garden, Black Eden. Though “his sneaker game is sooo tight.” Audre’s spiritual, dashiki-wearing dad is awkwardly trying to get to know her better; She is surprised to learn he was once in a punk band. And damn–I would have loved it if my school had a class on “Afro-Future Feminisms for a New World”2! I don’t know if any real Minneapolis schools do that but kudos to them if they do.
1. The hippiness of Mabel’s mom or Audre’s dad in his Malcom X glasses are slightly confusing, because if the girls are modern teenagers, shouldn’t their parents be Gen-X? I guess I did grow up in the ‘80s-‘90s listening to my parents’ Joan Baez collections, so maybe some ‘60s rubbed off on the parents in this book too!
2. Or, indeed, any English class where we had choice in what we got to read, rather than having to discuss Dickens or the Baghava Gita based on a single chapter from the textbook or having to slog through an important but depressing novel without adult guidance over the summer! I’m just glad I already liked to read, or that might have trained me out of it.
Speaking of which… having this set in Minneapolis hits a little differently in 2021 than maybe it did in 2019! However, while police brutality and protests against it are mentioned they are not a large part of the story, which acknowledges systemic problems but is generally gentle and sweet and focused on interpersonal dynamics. I’m a little wary of “sick lit”, especially in a Young Adult context, but I think this book handled Mabel’s illness well3. The idea of her connecting with an innocent man on death row is interesting and makes a lot of sense. If you’ve seen my profile picture you know I’m not exactly qualified to comment on this…but there are a lot of different ways represented here of expressing positive, proudly Black identities. That was enjoyable to read, and I’m sure it would be even more important for the young Black girls who are the target audience. Also, as a foodie with Caribbean roots (albeit a different island) I really liked the food descriptions. The fried plantain, curry cabbage, and okra with coconut milk the girls cook on one of their first afternoons together - I need to make that recipe!
3. At least no one thought it was appropriate to make out in the Anne Frank house. Looking at you, 'The Fault in our Stars'. Jeez.
There were only two aspects of the book that didn’t really work for me, nd those are very much personal preference. First, there’s a lot of astrology, which I have a limited appetite for, especially in fiction. Of course the characters’ personalities match their signs – the author made them up! However, I did rather enjoy the star-sign poems that open each section of the book and (as far as I can tell) indicate the month in which it is taking place. Second, I can’t make up my mind whether there’s either too much or too little magical realism for my taste. I was worried the book was going to have Audre cure Mabel with smoothies and tea, which could set up unrealistic expectations in young readers. The actual ending is WAY more magical than that – so no danger of anyone mixing it up with reality – though it is still bittersweet. However, the “real magic” kind of comes out of nowhere4. I’d also like to know more about how things shook out after the magical event. Those guards are going to be in trouble if they don’t bring a prisoner back, and thus would be likely to spread the hurt around to anyone nearby! The only other thing indicating that magical/spiritual things are real is that Mabel starts having dreams about Queenie, who she’s never met. It might have been helpful if she’d discussed these dreams with Audre or Queenie, confirming their accuracy. In fact, I sort of hope she did mention them “off screen”, because they indicate that Audre and Queenie share an experience/identity that Audre doesn’t know about. Circumspectly, of course - you shouldn't spill someone else's secrets even if they were conveyed to you in a dream!
4. Well, technically it is foreshadowed as a possibility. But Mabel’s correspondent didn’t directly witness the thing he is relaying.
Overall recommendation: If you know a young person who would like a wholesome YA contemporary romance or who could use an affirming story about queer Black girlhood – or if you needed such stories when you were young and didn’t have them – consider picking up this book.
