Book Review: Jazz, by Toni Morrison

If you’ve been following along, you know by now that I’m a huge Toni Morrison fan, and I’ve slowly been making my way through all of her novels. Jazz is the latest on the list and, as always, Toni Morrison creates some very complex and compelling characters in this novel – characters you simultaneously criticize and sympathize with, characters that feel like real people. And, also typical of Toni Morrison, this novel touches on some very big topics: race, class, love, trust, and forgiveness, to name a few.

However, I have to admit that this is probably my least favorite Morrison novel so far. Though at times I was thoroughly entertained and couldn’t put the book down, there were other times when the writing felt slow and meandering. Basically, in terms of plot, I didn’t find this one quite as compelling as books such as Beloved or Sula. So, I might not recommend starting with this Morrison novel if you’re new to her work.

Love. By Toni Morrison. Love. Love. Love.

I have never read a novel by Toni Morrison that wasn’t worth raving about. And yet, I have found that my favorites are not the same ones that get all the hype. Most of us have read, or at least heard of, The Bluest Eye and Beloved. But my favorites have tended to be Morrison’s lesser-known works, including Sula and Song of Solomon.

And Love falls in the latter category. Though not her most popular work, this might be one of Morrison’s best, in my humble opinion. On the surface, this is the story of a friendship between two women that has eroded over decades, but of course it is so much more than that. This novel really highlights the complex, unexpected, and shifting nature of love – of love between friends, between siblings, between lovers and spouses, between parents and children. And it’s about the impacts these relationships have on a community over time.

But what really amazes me about this novel is Toni Morrison’s incredible skill with subtly. Because when I’ve talked with others about this novel, the words “hate” and “anger” come far up far more frequently than “love” or “joy.” But without spoiling anything in the story, the final chapter starts to peel back the ways in which, throughout the entire novel, Morrison has been writing about love with great intention, subtlety, and scrutiny.

I am left thinking of all kinds of love, the way it changes over time, the power it has to hurt or heal. And what is more beautiful and memorable than a book that leaves you thinking about love?

Eager to read this one? Get the book from an independent bookshop HERE.

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