Southern belles rebels of slavery
Abolitionist Grimke sisters quiet heroes
The Invention of Wings is guaranteed to be a bestseller, given that Oprah Winfrey has made it a pick for her book club 2.0. But even without Oprah’s endorsement, I think this one was destined to take off.
For one thing, it’s based on a real-life pair of sisters, Sarah and Nina Grimke, who sacrificed much in their wealthy, southern-belle lifestyle to fight for the abolition of slavery, equal rights for blacks and women’s rights.
For another, it’s a wellwritten, easy-to-read pageturner about slavery in the American South that features a compelling black slave, Hetty, known as Handful to her friends and family, who takes risks in her quest for freedom.
The story takes place in early 19th-century Charleston, S.C., a city filled with wealthy white inhabitants who were almost completely dependent on slavery to maintain the lifestyle to which they had become accustomed. Sarah is given 10-year-old Hetty as a gift, a handmaid, when she turns 11; she is already opposed to slavery and tries to give Hetty her freedom the very day she receives her.
But that plan is quashed by her parents, so Sarah accepts the gift and strives to be as benevolent a slave owner as she can. She even teaches Hetty to read — a crime punishable by law — in an attempt to give her a small sliver of freedom. The pair become “friends” although it’s a stretch to imagine a true friendship of equals given their environment and situation.
Sarah and Nina’s stories are for the most part true, although Monk Kidd takes some liberties in fictionalizing their saga.
She writes in an author’s note that she first learned of the sisters when she saw their names memorialized on The Dinner Party, a feminist art installation by Judy Chicago.
Although Monk Kidd lives in Charleston, she had never heard of the sisters or their contribution to the abolition movement.
“In the late 1830s, they were arguably the most famous, as well as the most infamous, women in America, yet they seemed only marginally known, even in the city of their origins,” she writes.
“My ignorance of them felt like both a personal failing and a confirmation of Chicago’s view that women’s achievements had been repeatedly erased throughout history.”
The import of those words is another reason I think this book is bound to be read by many. Consider the story of the real-life Hetty, limited to the few details already recounted, which is all that’s known about her, the rest, Monk Kidd has made up. If women’s achievements were erased, those of a black slave were surely doubly so. What Hetty may have become or what she was capable of achieving will never be known. The novel sweeps across 35 years, covering the girls’ growing up and the complications inherent in their relationship. This is not a book to sugar-coat the experience of slavery — some of the scenes are as disturbing as the torture scenes in one of this year’s top movies, 12 Years a Slave.
This is an important book for its history of the abolition of slavery and the early days of the movement for women’s rights. But it’s definitely more than just that — it’s also a book people will want to read for its compelling storytelling and enigmatic characters.