A mirror that shatters without warning.
A trail of cracker crumbs strewn across the floor.
Two tiny handprints that appear on a cake.
Everyone at 124 Bluestone Road knows their house is haunted—
but there’s no mystery about the spirit tormenting them.
This ghost is the product of an unspeakable trauma;
the legacy of a barbaric history
that hangs over much more than this lone homestead.
So begins "Beloved," Toni Morrison’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel
about the suffering wrought by slavery and the wounds that persist in its wake.
Published in 1987, "Beloved" tells the story of Sethe,
a woman who escaped enslavement.
When the novel opens, Sethe has been living free for over a decade.
Her family has largely dissolved— Sethe’s mother-in-law died years earlier,
and her two sons ran away from fear of the specter.
Sethe’s daughter Denver remains in the house,
but the pair live a half-life.
Shunned by the wider community,
the two have only each other and the ghost for company.
Sethe is consumed by thoughts of the spirit,
whom she believes to be her eldest daughter.
When a visitor from Sethe’s old life returns and threatens the ghost away,
it seems like the start of a new beginning for her family.
But what comes in the ghost’s place may be even harder to bear.
As with much of Morrison’s work,
"Beloved" investigates the roles of trauma and love in African-American history.
Morrison writes about black identities in a variety of contexts,
but her characters are united by their desire to find love and be loved—
even when it’s painful.
Some of her novels explore when love challenges social conventions,
like the forbidden affection that grows between the townsfolk of "Paradise"
and their fugitive neighbors.
Other works examine how we can be blind to the love we already possess.
In "Sula," one character realizes that it’s not her marriage,
but rather, one of her friendships that embodies the great love of her life.
Perhaps Morrison’s most famous exploration of the difficulty of love
takes place in "Beloved."
Here, the author considers how the human spirit is diminished
when you know the things and people you love most will be taken away.
Morrison shows that slavery is destructive to love in all forms,
poisoning both enslaved people and their enslavers.
"Beloved" examines the dehumanizing effects of the slave trade
in numerous ways.
Some are straightforward, such as referring to enslaved people
as animals with monetary value.
But others are more subtle.
Sethe and Paul D.— the visitor from her old plantation—
are described as trying to “live an unlivable life.”
Their coping mechanisms are different; Sethe remains mired in her past,
while Paul D. dissociates himself completely.
But in both cases, it’s clear each character has been irreparably scarred.
Morrison also blends perspectives and timelines,
to convey how the trauma of slavery
ripples across various characters and time periods.
As she delves into the psyche of townspeople, enslavers,
and previously enslaved people,
she exposes conflicting viewpoints on reality.
This tension shows the limitations of our own perspectives,
and the ways in which some characters
are actively avoiding the reality of their actions.
But in other instances, the characters’ shifting memories align perfectly;
capturing the collective trauma that haunts the story.
Though "Beloved" touches on dark subjects,
the book is also filled with beautiful prose,
highlighting its characters’ capacity for love and vulnerability.
In a stream-of-consciousness sequence written from Sethe’s perspective,
Morrison unspools memories of subjugation alongside moments of tenderness;
like a baby reaching for her mother’s earrings, spring colors,
and freshly painted stairs.
Sethe’s mother-in-law had them painted white, she recalls,
“so you could see your way to the top… where lamplight didn’t reach."
Throughout the book, Morrison asks us to consider hope in the dark,
and to question what freedom really means.
She urges readers to ponder the power we have over each other,
and to use that power wisely.
In this way, "Beloved" remains a testimony to the destructiveness of hate,
the redeeming power of love,
and the responsibility we bear to heed the voices of the past.