Book Review: “Swift River” by Essie Chambers
Black and White
I recently read a book that touched upon the Great Migration of Black Americans from the Deep South to the northern U.S. in the years following the Civil War. My understanding has always been that Blacks felt they would get a better deal in the North — that in the land where slavery hadn’t taken hold, things would be better for them. Essie Chambers’ debut novel Swift River turns that idea on its head. It’s a book about a small town (that is the same name as the novel’s title) somewhere in New England that is so racist that most of the Black population leaves in the early 20th century on the same day, destined for warmer climes in the southern U.S. That’s not what the crux of the book is about, though. Instead, the setting explores the bond between mothers and daughters, especially when the daughter is the product of two different races. It’s a coming-of-age tale that isn’t overtly sentimental and hits most of the right notes. Swift River might not have been a book I would have searched out on my own (it was given to me by the publisher blindly in exchange for a fair and honest review); still, I am happy to have read it. I feel a little sad for putting the book down for the final time, but that’s because I read most of it in one sitting. This is a propulsive book, one that dares to ask the question about where mixed-race children fit in, if not the question, where does a white mother fit in in a society that dismisses white women who marry Black men?
The book alternates from being told from the point-of-view of 16-year-old Diamond Newberry in 1987 and the same character as a nine-year-old girl in 1980. In the 1987 timeline, she and her white mother are trying to get her Black father, who disappeared in 1980, declared legally dead so they can make a payday off his life insurance money. They live poorly in a run-down house with a run-down car they never drive. Instead, they either walk everywhere or hitchhike. To this end, Diamond is trying to improve her life by taking a Driver’s Ed course and making friends. What makes this challenging is not only because she is of mixed race, but she’s also severely obese. In the 1980s timeline, we see things from her perspective in the days leading up to her father’s disappearance and gain a nine-year-old’s insight into what may have happened to him and why. Diamond ultimately seeks a new way of life, planning to leave home and decamp for Florida with a new friend, Sally. However, she starts getting letters from an “aunt” (really a cousin), enclosed with other letters from an ancestor in her family who worked in her small town as a midwife. Thus, family secrets come to the surface as Diamond learns more and more about her troubled family’s history.
There’s not a lot I can say about this book. While it’s literary fiction, it’s women’s fiction, and I probably wasn’t in the target market for this read. However, the story has lingered in my conscience like a good novel should. Diamond is a vivid, three-dimensional character who grows and matures throughout the book — becoming a woman virtually in front of the readers’ eyes — and feels as authentic and compelling as a good human being. While this might be more of a woman’s book, it should be read by as big of an audience as possible (it’s already doing so, becoming something of a national bestseller) as this picks at that most American of heated topics: racism. And while the novel might be set in the past, I know enough about the States as a Canadian to know that this problem persists — even in my own country. (However, it’s exciting and quaint to see Canada portrayed as a Promised Land for Black people in this novel.) Anyway, this is a vivid and complex portrayal of the problem as well as an examination of what makes “white trash.” That said, the writing quality is above and beyond that of what mostly passes as Southern Gothic fiction. This a skilled, dynamic, and profoundly nuanced story that fires on all cylinders. My only complaint is that it could have been longer as there are gaps in the story regarding Diamond’s kin.
Ultimately, this book might have the reader begging for a sequel, though it rightfully stands on its own as it is. It takes an overweight, brown-colored character, making her relatable and likable despite her flaws. That’s what makes Swift River such a delicious treat. While I spotted a few potential anachronisms — Skittles were made available in the U.S. in 1979, so the 1980 version of Diamond might gulp them down as she does, but they likely weren’t famous for some time after that — one can brush them away and revel in what is profoundly powerful storytelling. This is a must-read novel for anyone looking for a crackerjack, realistic tale. Everything down to minor details, such as treating the characters’ speech as a way of presenting their personality, is accounted for. In short, this is a beautiful tale of the finest literary quality. I am so happy that I had a chance to experience something I probably wouldn’t have looked at twice in a library or bookstore. Swift River is a moving meditation on what it’s like to have a different skin color in the United States and should be read greedily. Be sure to search this out the next time you’re around any ol’ stack of books.
Essie Chambers’ Swift River was published by Simon & Schuster on June 6, 2024.
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