Babysitting for liberals (and other horror stories)
Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy health care. This inconvenient truth frustrates Emira Tucker, the heroine of Kiley Reid’s juicy debut novel, “Such a Fun Age.” Emira is one birthday away from getting kicked off her parents’ health insurance, and that birthday is coming soon. She needs a fulltime job with benefits, but thanks to the gig economy, they’re in short supply.
Babysitting for Alix Chamberlain pays Emira’s bills, but with strings attached. Alix — who has clearly read “The Help” more than once — wants both an employee and a “black friend.” Her casual racism annoys Emira, but not enough to give up a steady paycheck. And she genuinely enjoys caring for little Briar, a precocious toddler who suffers from Alix’s casual neglect.
Alix’s desire to be a “good” white person, however, kickstarts a chain of events that puts Emira in danger. A trip to the grocery store gone wrong (think “Supermarket Susan”) draws Emira into a grotesque competition for her affection that escalates faster than an Australian wildfire. Ms. Reid, a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, blends black horror, satire and current events to create a scathing critique of white middle -class America. Her social commentaries land like a series of swift kicks to the ribs; tokenizing, fetishizing and every microaggression you can imagine are blown up to proportions too large to miss, unless you’re in denial.
Watching Emira navigate dangers of which she’s largely unaware creates dramatic tension; as Ms. Reid reveals more and more of Alix’s true personality, readers will find themselves rooting for Emira to get out of the Chamberlain house. Invoking Jordan Peele is more than fair; underneath her “good white woman” mask Alix is a monster, a perfectionist control freak who sees Emira as just one more prop in her fantasy life.
If that doesn’t sound monstrous, you’ve probably never been on the receiving end of the harm it can do. Alix’s need to control everything and be loved by everyone are an everyday threat to Emira’s well-being. It’s a portrait of dangerous white womanhood that could hang in the same gallery with “The Picture of Dorian Gray.”
Not that black America is left entirely off the hook. Colorism, respectability politics and other issues that trouble black women within their own families and communities challenge Emria as well, creating a nuanced portrait of emotional danger both inside and out. The negative effects, however, are mitigated by her strong friendships with other women of color, the worldly wise Zara in particular.
Ms. Reid’s use of doubling adds layers of meaning to the story; the title alone works as both a parenting cliche and sarcastic commentary on the 21st century as a whole. Character names also contain double meanings: “Emira,” for example, means “princess” in Arabic but sounds like “a mirror” in English, neatly reflecting the difference between who she is, and who everyone else wants her to be. Ms. Reid sustains this mirror symbolism throughout the novel, creating doubles everywhere.
Ms. Reid invokes the doubleedged sword of social media as well. A controversial video haunts the narrative like Chekhov’s loaded gun: Once Ms. Reid introduces it into the plot, readers know it’s just a matter of time before it goes viral. When it does, what looks like the end of Emira’s story turns out to be just the beginning.
Lena Waithe and Sight Unseen Pictures have already nabbed the film and television rights to “Such a Fun Age,” so grab a copy now and assemble your dream cast while you read. Highly recommended, especially for fans of Celeste Ng’s “Little Fires Everywhere” and Kaitlyn Greenidge’s “We Love You, Charlie Freeman.”