I’ve been hearing a lot about The Help lately. In fact, last
semester, Sr. Helen Prejean (yes, the famous author) recommended it to me
personally while we were having dinner (sorry for the bragging, I just feel
really cool when I say that). I knew I wanted to read it to see what the hype
was all about, but I didn’t get a chance until now. Unfortunately, I cheated
and watched the movie over Christmas Break. It’s a great movie, first of all. I
loved watching it, and watching it with two of my favorite women (Teresa and
Hannah Mugel… best friends forever!) made it even better. So, needless to say
my expectations for the book were pretty high. I was not disappointed.
Stockett’s use of multiple viewpoints made the story even
more enjoyable. I loved hearing what was going on in Aibileen, Minny, and
Skeeters’ heads. The switching back and forth wasn’t too confusing, since they
say at the top of the chapter who is narrating and I think that the unique viewpoints
that you get are worth the trouble.
It was interesting to me that the author took it upon
herself to give the viewpoint of an African American maid when she herself is
white, but as she says in the afterward, while she will never truly understand
what that was like, trying to understand it is vital. I think that trying to
understand is important, and it helps us recognize that we’re really all the
same, no matter what seems to separate us.
The story itself is beautiful. The world it takes place in is
bittersweet—there is the simplicity of an age now gone, but there is the deep
poverty in the human conditions caused by living in a world so dominated by
hatred, fear, and inequality. It saddens me greatly that these things happened,
it gives me a feeling of relief to know that (mostly) those days are past for
the African American community.
But, after a long talk with my dear friend, Sarah, I am
reminded that things are very much the same now as then, but instead of the
African Americans fighting for their civil rights it is now the Mexican
immigrants trying to feed their families. I think that Stockett’s book can open
our eyes to the way in which we allow a barrier of race (and, sometimes
language) to make us forget that we are all made in God’s image and likeness. I
hate to think of how often the same attitude of the women in the book is
present in women today who treat their Mexican maids the same way that these
women treated Aibileen and Minny. Perhaps this is something to think about.
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