About this title: In this first volume of her celebrated collection of memoirs, the poet Maya Angelou describes in vivid, lyrical detail her childhood as a young black girl in the South.
Note: This is a general synopsis. Each listing is described below.
Binding: Mass-market paperback
Publisher: Bantam
Date Published: 1983
ISBN-13:9780553256154ISBN:0553256157
Description: Good. No dust jacket as issued. creasing, edge wear, yellowing, corners creased on front and back cover. Mass market (rack) paperback. Glued binding. Audience: General/trade. read more
Binding: Mass-market paperback
Publisher: Bantam Books
Date Published: 1983
ISBN-13:9780553279375ISBN:0553279378
Description: Very good. No dust jacket as issued. Free upgrade to First Class mail (for one book). Fine condition except has a bit of cover rubbed of near the top of the spine. Also listing others by same author. Mass market (rack) paperback. Glued binding. 304 p. Audience: General/trade. read more
"At last. I found a book that i can relate to. Im sure a few people don't want to hear any of my humble, sista preachin , negro spiritual talk , but i will pour my heart out for this book. Because it is my catcher in the rye. It is my inspiration. it warmed my heart and gave me a thirst for knowledge and reading. Everybody has that one book that changes there aura and the way they view the world. This was it for me. I can understand why this book would be not so enjoyable for a person who can not relate to some of the obstacles and struggles the author explains. I understand her frustrations,anguish and demeanor. This book has taken a weight off my shoulders, because it is hard to be humble in a world were you are invisible. How many popular or famous stories do you remember that have a black girl as the main character. This one is special to me because she looks like me, has nappy hair like me, has parents like mine, and uses language that has the comfort and familiarity of home the way i remember. I have read alice in wonderland, Hansel and Gretel, Cinderella, a series of unfortunate events, snow white and so on. They were all great books that taught me a little more about the magic of storytelling and adventure. But this book gave me hope whether fiction or not ( though it is a little raw for younger readers). We have so much under the surface of our history. Strangely i believe that some people don't realize society is not obviously excepting to some children. Just because her story is not idealistic as the majority of people her age, at that time, doesn't mean it shouldn't be told. I am very grateful that she has shared her story with us all. Every one can find something in this book that moves them. I live in a country that doesn't hate me doesn't love me but keeps me on the side lines. I am not always the main character but sometimes i get a line or two. Thats ok. Things are coming around. Since i have read this book i walk with my head up a little higher, i do not settle for less and i try to speak my mind tactfully to whoever crosses my path. thank you Maya for giving me an adventure. I am hopeful for life because if Maya can overcome the odds i can to. Thats what good books are supposed to do."
"With the remembered perceptions of a child and the skill of a mature artist Civil Rights activist, poet and performer Maya Angelou recounts her childhood in what has become a modern classic of autobiography. Its honesty and command of the language should not be missed.
"When I was three and Bailey four, we had arrived in the musty little town, wearing tags on our wrists which instructed-"To Whom It May Concern"-that we were Marguerite and Bailey Johnson, Jr., from Long Beach, California, en route to Stamps, Arkansas, c/o Mrs. Annie Henderson."
The owner of the Wm. Johnson General Merchandise Store in Stamps, Annie Henderson, her grandmother, became Momma for Marguerite and her brother. It was her brother Bailey who in his toddler tongue claimed her as "Maya" (my) sister. The store was the gathering place for the African American workers on their way to and from their day's work in the cotton fields. It was there that she learned her mathematics at the cash register and there that she and her brother learned to read and love reading, and there that they discovered that alien race with their strange and unfriendly ways that lived in the other side of town, "whitefolks."
But her childhood in the rural South with its church revivals, community fish fries, and first friends was interrupted suddenly when their father showed up unexpectedly and told them they were going to come with him to live in California. More unexpectedly he took them and delivered them not to California, but to St. Louis. With its strange foods, doorbells, flush toilets and noisy automobiles, St. Louis was like a foreign county. It was a foreign country where their glamorous and beautiful mother lived with her family. Momma, their Johnson grandmother was a pious woman of character who feared no man but God. By contrast Grandmother Baxter was a political force in the city with influence over the police, and feared no man.
Political power, however was no protection against domestic danger. Eight-year-old Marguerite was molested by her mother's boyfriend. The trauma sent her into silence and depression and back to Arkansas. There the regard of the educated Mrs. Flowers who encouraged her reading and plied her with tea and cooking gave her back her voice.
Her next move out of Arkansas with her brother was to California; to San Francisco where her mother now lived and one unfortunate summer visiting her father and his new girlfriend in southern California. After a falling out she spent a month homeless before returning to San Francisco. There, during the Second World War, she attended high school, through dogged perseverance became the first black conductor on the streetcars, and had a son."
"I am glad I read this book...even though I did throw it across the room at one point early on. I wasn't angry with her story but saddened and enraged at the story of another young girl (Maya herself) being abused. I am so tired of knowing about children being hurt by those who should protect and love them.
I was also surprised to learn as I read that she grew up very near where some of my extended family lives (near Texarkana, TX/AK). She was growing up as an African American near "powhitetrash" (in her grandmother's terms) people like my mamaw and papaw. I am glad to have her perspective on the time. I certainly recognized a lot of the scenes and terminology.
It is not a happy story and really doesn't have a terribly hopeful ending. But I am not sorry I read it. The title is still my favorite part."
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