LITERATURE: US Poet Pushes Through Life

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Alecia McKenzie

BRUSSELS, May 20 1997 (IPS) - Black U.S. writers from James Baldwin to Toni Morrison have long enjoyed success in Europe, and now they are joined by New York-based performance artist and poet ‘Saphire’ and her extraordinary novel ‘Push.’

The book has garnered critical acclaim in Britain, Italy, Belgium and other countries, and it already has been translated into several languages. Appearing at a time when incidents of child abuse has shocked many here, it tells a moving and troubling story of one child’s experiences, and the author has dedicated it to “children everywhere”.

Push is the story of a 16-year-old black girl named Precious Jones, who lives in Harlem, New York. She has been sexually abused by her father, by whom she has two children, and her mother knows of the abuse but sees Precious only as a rival for the man’s attentions.

In fact when Precious is pregnant for the first time, at 12-years old, her mother beats her, calling her a “goddam slut”and. The beating causes Precious to give birth to her child on the kitchen floor, where a Hispanic paramedic (the first man ever to show concern for Precious) tells her to “push”. He says, “I want you to push, you hear me momi, when that pain hit you again, go with it and push, Preshecita. Push.”

Precious “pushes”, and the novel relates, in both third-person narrative and first person street talk, her continued push through life.

After she is expelled from high school because of the second pregnancy, she enrolls in an alternative programme, and pushes herself to learn to read and write, with the help of a caring and determined teacher named Blue Rain. (“I on’t feel I have to explain my name,” Ms. Rain says, which is perhaps a message from Ms. Sapphire, the writer.)

Temporarily homeless when the second baby is born, Precious finds the strength to care for him while continuing with her schooling. But a terrible blow still awaits, a blow that batters the reader who by now could do with some comic relief. Such relief never comes, however, because Push is a novel of uncompromising “realism” – a word Precious herself scorns. “Izm, smizm. Sometimes I wanna tell Ms Rain shut up with all the IZM stuff. But she my teacher so I don’t tell her shut up. I don’t know what ” realism” mean but I do know what REALITY is and it’s a motherfucker, lemme tell you.”

Sapphire never shrinks from reality, or realism – whether in language, depicting rape, or describing her characters’ physical appearance. It is this that makes the story sometimes hard to stomach, but we read on because even with reality at its worst, Push reaffirms the fading belief that one person cn make a difference and that with humanwill, many horrors can be overcome.

There is even poetry amid the reality — the harp, angry, moving poems written by Precious as she tries to deal with her situation.

Is the realism a drawback? Faced with the current rash of depressing movies, books and artwork, we might see Push as part of a recurring artistic trend to confront the “audience” with the bleakness of certain individuals’ lives. But whereas many works seem to be made only for artsy effect, Push is credible because we know that Precious Jones exists; we know that thousands of children are abuse and neglected around the world. So the realism strengthens the story.

The impact of the novel also comes from the form it takes: it was an excellent idea to use the first person (along with the third) in the narrative with all the idiosyncracies of Precious’ “uneducated” speech. Words are misspelt, verbs are missing, “asks” becomes “axes”, and the overall effect is to make Precious extremely alive to the reader.

Push is definitely a significant addition to the large body of respected literature by African-American women writers. Sapphire reminds one most of Toni Morrison and of Alice Walker.

Indeed, if one had to make comparisons, the novel could be a cross between Morrison’s The Bluest Eye and Walker’s The Color Purple; the latter is in fact mentioned in Push, as if to pre-empt the critics who would dare make comparisons or perhaps merely to pay tribute to a source of inspiration.

Precious says, “I love The Color Purple, that book give me so much strength.” But Miss Rain pointsout that oneo the criticisms of Walker’s book is that it has a “fairy tale” ending.

In Push, the author’s obvious adherence to realism means that any trace of fairy tale-ness must be ruthlessly erased, but the reader, like Precious Jones, craves to believe that “life can work out for the best sometimes.” In fact, it can, but you “got ta push” … and push.

For some – those born and raised in grinding poverty, those with montrously abusive parents, those forgotten by the system – the pushing is infinitely harder. But a helping hand can make a difference. This is Sapphire’s worthwhile reminder, and you don’t have to be a fairy to believe in it.