Published By US - Putnams
GOIN' HOME - A Black Family returns South.
'Murari tells of their journey with sensitivity
and candour, with sympathy
restrained by objectivity His own point of view is
that of an outsider - an urbane writer (novelist and
playwright) who shuttles between London
and New York.
Murari conveys a complex reaction to Arthur, Alma
and the South he visits. While he recognises pretence and hypocrisy in southern societies he
is at pains to portray the civic leaders he encounters
not as ogres but as basically decent - albeit extremely
provincial - unquestioningly preserving a social milieu
they've inherited from their ancestors. He is enormously
sympathetic to the southern black'. THE
WASHINGTON POST.
-This sparely written account of the Stanfords
is a poignant account. A story of a 5th or 6th generation
American family - land where my fathers died - who
can't find a home. A story of a
myth - among those are life, liberty and the
pursuit of happiness- that isn't working. A lament from sea to sea. THE BOSTON
GLOBE
-In this family portrait that spans three generations,
Murari sensitively explores the racial undercurrents
that ultimately lead to this young couple's painful
disillusionment. CINCINNATI
HERALD
-The warm, moving, ultimately grim story of
one young family's participation in a growing movement:
the black migration back to the South. Murari draws
a telling picture of another black dream deferred.
LIBRARY JOURNAL.
'Goin'
Home tells of a dream gone sour. It's the touching
story of Arthur and Alma, a young black couple. For
some months, Timeri Murari had been searching for
a black family planning to return to the South. He
went along with Arthur and Alma and this book is their
story, recorded with perception, sensitivity and sadness
by Murari. BIRMIGHAM NEWS.
Timeri
Murari has come up with a highly readable, bittersweet
little book that is hard to put down once begun. The
author, perhaps because of his own background, writes
with a sort of low-key detachment that makes for absorbing
reading. He also writes with rare perception as he
compares the racial climates in the urban North and
rural South. SUNDAY ADVOCATE.
The
book is written with great understanding of the desire
of Arthur and Alma to make it in Arthur's hometown.
The book shows that the left-out feeling that submerged
them in Eufaula was more humiliating and degrading
that battling it out with some admitted rednecks in
Boston.
St Paul Pioneer
Press.
MILWAUKEE JOURNAL interview by
Joy Lewis.
To
the outsider, the South appears to be making good
progress against racial barriers; (more jobs) are
pluses. School integration and industrial
growth. But, "racism has become simply
more subtle-- today, blacks can sit at a lunch counter
but they've no money to buy food," Timeri Murari
said, reflecting on economic realities for many blacks
in the south.
"Goin' Home" is the story of a black family, Arthur and
Alma Stanford and their young son, who attempt to
resettle in Eufaula, Ala., Arthur's hometown. After
seven years in Boston,
the Stanfords packed their
belongings in the fall of 1978 for greener and homier
pastures. They planned to build a ranch house on the
acres belonging to Arthur's father and grow their
own vegetables. Alma
intended to go to business school and Arthur counted
on a decent paying job, paying not the $7 an hour
he got in Boston
spray-painting cars, but enough to support their dreams.
Murari,
a 38-year-old novelist and playwright with apartments
in London
and New York,
accompanied the Stanfords South. He is charming, with a distinctly educated
British accent. Born in India,
he too is dark-skinned and knows prejudice.
"In
early 1978, I read a newspaper account about how blacks
were returning to the south from the industrial north.
In fact, black migration north had nearly stopped,"
he told me. "It was quite a phenomenon. I had
never been south, and I was curious."
"I
think it's better in the south, "Arthur tells
Murari in the book before leaving Boston.
"There you don't make as much but it don't
cost you as much to live and you can live more comfortable".
Murari spent several weeks in the bosom of the Stanford
clan, chatting with Odie and Bud, Arthur's parents, tagging along when Arthur
tries in vain to get a bank loan (which had been promised
before he left Boston), going job hunting with Arthur,
talking to Alma and other relatives, meeting civic
leaders, and absorbing Eufaula's present and past.
"A
beautiful little town...like taking a journey back
into the Confederate past," he writes in "Goin' Home." "Everything here looks as if a deliberate
attempt has been made to still time and bottle it."
Sadly, the only job Arthur finds is at $2.65
an hour. The bank won't loan him money unless his
wife also works--dashing her hopes for business schooling.
The longer Arthur and Alma
stay, the more they grasp that their South and Eufaula
have changed little. They learn that a dual wage system
still operates--whites preferred over blacks, with
more pay for the same work.
Disheartened, the Stanfords
realise they can't make
it. In January 1979, they go back to Boston--defeated,
they know, by racism they
cannot disrupt nor escape. "I don't think we
was prepared for what stood
in our paths," Arthur says.
What frustrates the Stanfords almost as much as under-the-counter discrimination
is the attitude of blacks who never left-- Eufaula.
"I've
talked to blacks who live
here," Alma
confesses in the book. "And when you talk to
them and tell them how far they're set back and that
things need to change, they just look at you
as if you're crazy. They say 'You can't change it, we've been like this all our lives. "'
"You
know what I found out talkin'
to the black guys at work" Arthur asks Murari.
"They don't want nothin'.
They're happy just workin'
one day to the next. The South really hasn't changed
much you know."
"Goin' Home" is succinct. It shows Murari's
skills as a reporter in London
for The Guardian. His descriptive passages are detailed
but not overburdened. Thus, the story of a realistic
dream moves quickly to an inevitable fate, given the
social milieu of the south. Reading the story of an
ordinary black family--in their own words-- and listening
to white civic leaders describe and assess the "facts
of life" for southern blacks and whites is an
eye-opener for those who know
little about southern living.
Historical accounts of the land Murari
visits and the people he meets give the story fullness.
Occasionally he digresses into his own terse philosophy.
For instance, upon entering a down south savings and
loan bank he comments: "Banks have no poetry,
no prose, no songs, no dance.
They always remind me of operating rooms--clean, sterile,
well lit, and they bare the financial intestines of
their customers. A digit here, a
zero there, cleanly incised by the razor- sharp computers
and adding machines. Only white people are
to be seen behind the counters and in the offices."
Murari keeps in touch with Eufaula and with Arthur
and Alma who now live in Salem,
New Hampshire.
Alma recently
finished business school and is a secretary; Arthur
has an $8 an hour job in Boston.
But, Arthur states in the book, he still desires to
return to his roots: "One day, I'm goin' back, goin' home, for good."