From Publishers Weekly
A sleepy 1950s Florida town becomes a racial battleground in McCarthy's insightful, fervent second novel (after Lay That Trumpet in Our Hands). Recently widowed, Franklin Dare moves his family to Florida to start a new life in the lush citrus groves. But his young children catch the eye of a corrupt sheriff, K.A. DeLuth, who proclaims Daniel's hair too "kinked" and Rebecca's nose too wide and bans them from Lake Esther Elementary (according to Florida law, any child deemed one-eighth black or more cannot attend an all-white school). Only unimpeachable evidence that Franklin has no black blood-in fact, he is part Croatan Indian-will result in the children's readmittance. Employing the Dare affair in his re-election campaign, DeLuth stirs up local racists and Klan members. But two of the area's most prominent and spirited women-newspaper editor Ruth Cooper Barrows and Lila Hightower, the daughter of the county's deceased strongman, whom DeLuth once counted as an ally-crusade in defense of the children. While the sheriff wins re-election, he loses face when more townsfolk come forward to side with the Dares, who are prepared to take their fight to court. The Dares' legal triumph over a bumbling defense isn't quite the end, though, as DeLuth proves his insanity and a friend of Daniel's makes the ultimate sacrifice. The ending may present more questions than answers, but it doesn't take away from McCarthy's flawless dialogue, warm characters and compassionate wit, all of which service a moving story about the powers of love and justice.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From School Library Journal
Adult/High School--In the early 1950s, local law in Florida could prohibit children who were demonstrably one-eighth African American or more from attending school--whether public or private--with "white" children. Rather than taking the effects of such segregationist policies as the theme here, McCarthy casts her net more widely: How are both individuals and the community affected when some are declared to be among the unprotected class in spite of identifying themselves as members of the majority power? Told from several viewpoints, the story of a fifth grader's expulsion--on the basis of his suspiciously nappy hair--develops into revelations about the secrets maintained by the community's leading family, the moral resources of the corrupt sheriff's wife, and the power and limitations of the free press. This is not a perfect literary work as it lacks the subtlety and grace of such novels as Harper Lee's
To Kill a Mockingbird, and there are structural problems. However, the overarching strength of the tale is the realistic interplay of government policy and private lives, as well as the clash between perceived cultural truths and actual scientific facts. Most successful is McCarthy's realization of the consciousness--or lack thereof--of the era, making this story more suited to support of the social sciences curriculum than to language arts.
--Francisca Goldsmith, Berkeley Public Library, CA Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.