11 of 12 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A Community Undivided..., July 23, 2004
This review is from: Ida B.: A Novel (Hardcover)
Karen E. Quinones Miller's fourth novel, "Ida B." regales readers with the lives of several long-term occupants of a high-rise subsidized tenement known as the Ida B. Barrett Wells Tower located in Harlem, New York. Home to its residents, Brenda, Sharif, Rosa, and several others, for over two decades; these tenants have created an unbreakable bond closer than that of most biological families as each has faced judgment, personal failure, and ridicule from a cast of neighborhood peers.
Brenda Carver, a twenty-five year old, single mother of four is currently receiving assistance from the government to make ends meet. Her four illegitimate children, four "baby daddies", and lack of support is the least of her problems. Brenda's biggest set back lies in her highly dependent nature and her habitual indecisiveness. Her dream of becoming an author is constantly being railroaded, not due to her intelligence, but to her lack of follow through. Everything Brenda tries to accomplish get derailed, including a concrete storyline for her dream novel. As Brenda faces her personal struggles, she must also keep an eye on the future of her oldest son Bootsy, who has witnessed a crime that may cost him his life. With her comfort zone becoming increasingly tattered, Brenda's reality may have to be dealt with sooner, rather than later.
Known as the neighborhood saint, Sharif Goldsby is a man who will stand up and fight for the downtrodden. His labor of love towards others range from creating petitions, organizing marches, and even making personal phone calls to those in decision-making capacities. Sharif is usually the first one notified when trouble occurs. His life has been devoted to making Ida B. a better living community for all, even when faced with horrible accusations regarding his sexual preference. Ultimately Sharif is placed in a position where his personal judgment becomes unsettling causing hurtful situations to resurface and a severe life altering choice to be made.
Karen E. Quinones Miller has transported readers into a small community unbeknownst by many, but respected by all who come in contact. Filled with comedy, drama, heartfelt scenes, and realism, "Ida B." is truly an enjoyable, self-relating, and most of all a unforgettable novel.
-Monique Baldwin-Worrell, founder of Flavah Reviewers
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Whodunit?!, August 30, 2004
This review is from: Ida B.: A Novel (Hardcover)
This book wasn't what I expected but it was very good, Ms. Miller really came through on this one, with its drama/suspense ingredients.
I grew up in Baisley Park Houses in Jamaica, Queens and all the characters that were in the Ida B. was true to life. You had your nosey neighbors, bad behind kids and some real good people there. Even though some people thought it wasn't much it was home to a lot of people for a lot of years and I loved the way they all pulled together in the mist of a tragedy, a very cruel tragedy.
Only thing I wish Ms. Miller could of focused more on the main character Brenda, but I guess she wasn't trying to single one character out, she was trying to focus on the buidling as a whole.
This book is a very good fast read, with hopes and dreams of people just like you and me.
Later.......
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
5 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
A Social Document and a Eulogy, September 3, 2004
This review is from: Ida B.: A Novel (Hardcover)
It's hard to imagine a more detailed, vivid, and accurate picture of life in a high-rise low-income housing project in Harlem at the turn of the 21st Century than Karen E. Quinones Miller gives us in "Ida B." Her grasp of the personality types, prevalent mindsets, social manners and mannerisms, moral values (or lack thereof), personal aspirations, and -- most remarkably -- the language of social intercourse, is extraordinary. Her dialogue is superbly, almost gratingly, authentic.
"Ida B." is a social document that professors of sociology would do well to assign in courses on inner-city subculture. No textbook can show it as concretely and dramatically as Miller has. After being immersed in that subculture she rose above its limitations, acquired the language and perceptions of the mainstream, and then drew what no one born to the mainstream could ever draw with such authority and conviction. I think she will always be, emotionally at least, living in two worlds, mediating between them -- interpreting one to the other. Helping us understand them and them understand us, and making us like each other better because of that deepened understanding. This is a valuable aspect of her work.
The ending of "Ida B." is clever, original, and so far as I can remember unique. There are few novels, even among the classics, about which that can be said. Fortunately it's not essential that we novelists astonish the reader with an ending that casts a new light on all that precedes it, if we've written an otherwise strong story. But when we do, we engrave the tale in the reader's mind and help him remember it whole. "Ida B's" ending refers to the beginning, connects with it, and forms a circle that ties the events together like beads on a necklace.
The title takes on added significance too. I sometimes wondered as I read: Who is the protagonist of this novel? I assumed at the outset it would be Brenda, but she never rose to the occasion; never took center stage for any length of time and held it. Rosa was the stronger female figure, but still pallid compared to some of Miller's other heroines, like Regina Harris ("Satin Doll") and Faith Freeman ("I'm Telling"). Sharif was, as I see it, the closest thing to a conventional protagonist, by far the strongest, wisest, most admirable character in the book. But it wasn't his story either. We never got inside his mind, heart, and experience in a really intimate way. As omnipresent as he was, he seemed to be always in a strong supporting role. Supporting whom? Well, everyone. Which is to say, the real protagonist -- Ida B., the high-rise low-income housing project in Harlem, viewed as a social organism.
It is Ida B's story just as the title proclaims. The story of her turbulent life, filled with passion, friendship, humor; conflict, anger, depravity; violence or the always imminent threat of it, drug addiction, tragic death after tragic death (murder, suicide, more murder, then vigilante capital punishment); a deep-rooted suspicion and disdain for the laws of conventional society and its mechanisms of enforcement; and a conviction that loyalty to the tribe -- the clan, the subculture, the brothas and sistas who live in the tower -- is the highest moral good. Higher than truth. Higher than justice. Higher than God. Didn't Sharif proclaim this when he stood before "the makeshift altar he'd set up in memory of his grandmother" and said, "Light, peace, and progress, Gran. Please look out for me, and keep me strong, keep me true." That is the only prayer I can remember in the book. And it is a primal supplication to a revered ancestor, not a prayer to the God of Abraham or even to Allah.
The plea "keep me true" referred to an allegiance beyond truth or the demands of the criminal justice system. Sharif had resolved to lie and even commit perjury if necessary. "But there were some things worth compromising his integrity over, and saving Ricky's ass was one. And he wasn't really compromising his integrity, he mused as he jiggled the ice in his drink. He was being true to his own roots." That is, I think, the core moral pronouncement of the novel. The Ida B. Wells-Barnett Tower, its inhabitants, and their web of life-sustaining -- often life-threatening -- social and familial connections, was a metaphor for "his own roots."
So Ida B. held center stage from the Prologue to her demise at the end of Chapter 21. The novel "Ida B." by the character Brenda Carver -- and of course Miller's novel, which both is and contains it -- is a eulogy to memorialize Ida's extraordinary life and lamented passing. The memories which Brenda "was afraid would become distant, and even surreal, once she moved away" are now captured for her posterity, and Miller's. They are not all good memories. Ida had as many faults as she did virtues; probably more. "Both a prison and a sanctuary," Brenda observed. "A place where everybody was trying to break out, and nobody wanted to leave." I thank Ms. Miller for letting me see from the inside a life I had viewed only from a great distance. I will remember Ida B.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No