First let me start by saying, I loved “The Coldest Winter Ever”. I adored it. I think it began an unprecedented movement in the African American Literary Community. I mean, a character like Winter Santiago, she represented survival, instinct, just plain old doing what you have to do to get by. I respected that, although I grew up in Edmonton Alberta Canada and could not necessarily relate to Winter on a personal level, I still “got her”. When I moved to America, I met several Winters, or Winter variations. I dare say, I knew her personally because I would have made a lot of the same choices. There is a saying that says “There but for the Grace of God, Go I”. Who knows, if I were in the same predicaments that Winter found herself in, what would I have done?
But that’s just it. It provokes that kind of thought. Not all of us were Winter, but as Chris Rock said, “May be I wouldn’t have done the same thing, but I understand”. I got her. I felt her, I felt Sister Souljah’s message. I felt her passion and her pain, so I was willing to join the movement and say, “I Got Your Back Girl, Do What You Have To Do to get by”.
And then came “Midnight, A Gangster Love Story”
Oh Boy.
After reading the book in one day, (approximately 5 hours), why do I feel really unsettled. I am not sure what to think. I cannot honestly say that I connected to the character. I just did not find him believable or authentic, after all, I related to Winter and I grew up in Edmonton Canada…. I just had a struggle with Midnight.
Is it because he was a male? I don’t think so. I love to get into he minds of men, especially young black men. It is fascinating to see what shapes their minds and attitudes, what makes them who they are…
Was it Akemi? No, I was really feeling the Japanese girl. I thought the whole love story between people who could not speak the same language but were yet so intimate was an amazing story line. I felt their love. I wanted them to be together. I needed them to be together….
My disappointment came with…. I don’t know… I was expecting more. More than the diary of fourteen year old. More than the unbelievable. I mean really, am I to expect that a 14 year old be so accomplished, I don’t care if he was from Africa, I have been to Africa twice and a 14 year old is just that. A 14 year old. Not a shrewd business-man, not so level headed…Not trying to get married. He is just 14 and that was ok.
He killed two people and was not messed up at all? Trying to honor is family? Didn’t think twice… no consequences…
African or not… it’s a stretch….
Don’t get me wrong, I totally appreciate that she was trying to get us into the psyche of a young black man who respected women.. Who loved women… who would lay down is life for a woman… An overall honorable Black Man. But I expected more truth…
I did not believe Midnight. I did not believe that a 14 year old could be that mature. Even if he came from the Motherland. Just because you were raised on African Soil by a born and bred African Man… It did not ring authentic….
I am disappointed, but not unforgiving. There is a sequel after all that claims it will answer all of our questions and tie everything in with this book and The Coldest Winter Ever.
I’ll wait for that, but after investing almost 400 pages of my time in 5 hours, Sister Souljah…. Sister Girl….
I hope I am not left feeling with the same feeling I have today….
Unfulfilled.
Most Sincerely,
One of your Biggest Fans
Mocha
