This well-written novel combines adventure and magical realism with graphic and grusome details of slave life. Set sometime in the mid-19th century the story chronicles Hiram, the son of a slaveholder and a slave, who possesses both natural and supernatural gifts. Despite his photographic memory he cannot recall his mother until one day he witnesses her specter glowing on bridge. The ensuing accident sets the story in motion and brings in the Underground Railroad, Harriet Tubman, the North, the South and a host of semi-memorable characters. The details around the ordinary and banal slave daily life are the most poignant aspects along with the powerful themes of macro and micro independence, gender roles, disappointment, sex and antebellum decay. The momentum continues throughout but never really gets rolling. Enjoyable and important, yet likely forgetable.

I’ve been reading Ta-Nehisi Coates’ stuff for over a decade now (how did we all get so old), and I’m so delighted that his move into fiction has kept all the clarity, and honesty, and heart as his non-fiction. I was into this book from its opening pages and would probably have read it for ever if there had been more of it.

So beautifully and seamlessly written. The language just flows. The narrative is a little confusing at times, but I absolutely loved the language. I liked the thorough research and world building of antebellum America. Realizing the every day and the deep pain of slavery was moving.

I don't feel qualified to properly review this book in my position, so I'll keep this short. I thought this was a beautiful book about a terrible subject. It made the characters real to me in a way I wasn't expecting, and while the cast does get a bit large and unwieldy later in the book, I still enjoyed what was shown to me. The story is simple -- a boy growing up in slavery, grown into a man who rescues others in slavery -- and also complex as he considers how he fits into the larger picture and experiences the stories that his fellow Underground compatriots tell. While the added layer of magical realism added to the beauty of the storytelling, tonally I'm not sure adding it to such a heavy subject worked all the time. Mood whiplash was a thing I experienced, where the beauty of the magical realism would be bookended with terrible things. Maybe that was by design, I'm not sure. Much like Between the World and Me, I think this would make for some good required reading. There's lots to unpack here, both in the words and in the history of the topic.

The wiring in this is mind blowingly amazing I would read Ta Nehisi Coats's grocery list for real

i was so confused for a good chunk in the beginning of this book. but it did get a lot better.

I'm going to be honest here an say that I, personally, am uninterested in white people's opinions on this book. Frankly, this book is not for you. I think it is so powerful and uplifting to those who find themselves perpetually disenfranchised by a system that claims to do the exact opposite. I think this is who this book was written for. As for critiques of the "magical realism" of the novel, I don't think Coates is taking too many liberties, what with many freed peoples claiming their freedom was obtained through supernatural intervention, be it the ancestors or God his/her/themself. All in all, this was a beautiful read.

The Water Dancer changed my thinking. That’s the sign of a truly great book. On the surface, this is a story of Hiram who was born to an enslaved woman and her master. He has magical abilities that hinge on memories. Beyond the surface, this is a story of pain, loss, tragedy, and hope. It is full of complex characters and deep meaning. The story is hard, but it drew me in. I was invested in each character, and was so glad we learned their backstories. The writing is seamless as you learn as much about the horrors of slavery as you do about the characters. Coates has a gift for lyrical writing. I am glad that I read this. It’s not easy to stare into the eyes of such an horrible time in our history, but this journey will stay with me.

Conmovedora, inesperada. Es una gran historia, que busca reflejar a través de los ojos de sus personajes y de sus historias, una realidad, la de la esclavitud y la discriminacion. Además tiene componentes que podrían definirse como fantásticos. Me tuvo cautivada, aunque al principio me costó un poco seguir la historia. La recomiendo.

Big fan of the prose and how well the magician realism elements worked with this. I found the middle to have a lot of hang time, so much so it felt like it wasn’t moving forward at all almost. But thankfully it got going again. The sense of community and place also helped quite a bit as well. There’s some truly gut wrenching moments in this thing.

It's been awhile since I didn't want a 400 page book to end, but I didn't want this one to end. Coates wrote a book that had rich, complex characters but also a plot that kept you guessing. I will never write a review worthy of this book, so my only advice is to read it. Now.

I read this book for my girlfriend, she found it enchanting. I, on the other hand, made it until half and had to stop for I felt demotivated, bored, and in a slow flood of names and the feeling that I missed 80% of what the book tried to tell. I can appreciate how slavery, hierarchy and the importance of family and freedom is portrayed in a world that does not exist but carries many elements of our current society. On the other hand, it did not speak to me the way I wish it would. It is written in such a way as if the reader already knows what the situation is, leaving us with no explanation (or vague poetic definitions) about who means what, or what on Earth is happening.

Conmovedora, inesperada. Es una gran historia, que busca reflejar a través de los ojos de sus personajes y de sus historias, una realidad, la de la esclavitud y la discriminacion. Además tiene componentes que podrían definirse como fantásticos. Me tuvo cautivada, aunque al principio me costó un poco seguir la historia. La recomiendo.

I remember my excitement over The Water Dancer; I love Ta-Nehisi Coates' essays and non-fiction pieces, so I was eager to see how it was translate to a novel. The good news is, yes, Coates' gift for lyricism lends itself beautifully to fiction. That said, the story meanders; plot points come to a screeching halt, only to be abruptly picked up back again (Georgie Parks, Sophie, Thena). We're introduced to new casts of characters in a way that feels less-than-organic. From a narrative perspective, Hiram (the protagonist) jumps from one objective to another, but somehow without the momentum that would really push or intensify the plot. Structurally, the story is fallible on its own. But goddamn if it isn't beautiful to read, thanks to Coates' grasp of language and metaphor.

I've read Coates's nonfiction books and wasn't sure what to expect out of a first effort at a novel. It took me a chapter or two to get into it, but then it was off to the races. The prose here is at times a little tortuous (not torturous), and I think that's partially a product of the period whose voice he's inhabiting. I'm not convinced he maintains a consistent tone throughout for his speakers (but then there's some code switching afoot here too). At times I felt like I wished he had just written a period slave narrative rather than introducing the sort of magical realist elements (part of what made the opening bits a little hard for me to get into). I don't dislike magical realism generally (though neither do I love it); I just didn't love them here, though there was some lovely lyricism, probably more in these moments than in others. Those critiques noted, I did like this book quite a lot. The narrative did pull me right along, and there is beauty and humanity here. If nothing else, Coates has made me want to read more deeply in the source material he's working with. I hope he'll write more fiction; I'd love to see him work more directly in realism than in fantasy.

(This is an excerpt from a longer blog post originally posted on inthemargins.ca) In the first few pages of Jacqueline Woodson’s Red At the Bone , Melody comes down the stairs to the music of Prince’s Darling Nikki. Immediately, I was transported to my first memories of hearing that song, of being scandalized and titillated and enthralled all at the same time. It was music like I had never heard before—every song by Prince was a revelation for me—and the memory of the first time I heard that song is imprinted in my mind. It is perhaps perfect that my first reaction of reading that passage of Red At the Bone was the recalling of a memory, especially since the novel is itself a rumination on remembrance, and how our memories—and the intergenerational memories passed on to us through those that came before—shape who we are, who we become, and how we live in the world. Throughout Ms. Woodson’s poetic and entrancing prose, we are reminded that our histories, that our intergenerational traumas, are part of who we are, and that we must remember those histories in order to be truly ourselves. The idea of being shaped by intergenerational trauma is also at the core of Watchmen , Damon Lindelof’s (very loose) television sequel of the comic by the same name. Set in an era of Redfordations and racial unrest, Watchmen explores how we can not, try as we might, escape the decisions of those who came before us. Instead of running from the trauma of the past, we must remember it; to remember, to acknowledge the trauma, is to allow us to become who are meant to be. Our memories are not just our traumas, intergenerational or our own: they are also beacons that guide us and buoy us through hard times. Our protagonist in Ta-Nehisi Coates’ The Water Dancer , Hiram Walker, is both freed and burdened by his memory. He can remember everything with a photographic recall, but it is only when he chooses to open his memory and remember his mother—to see her as she was before she was taken away and sold to another plantation—that he is able to embrace his real gift: to use memory, to use remembrance to move across space and time. Like Ms. Woodson’s Red At the Bone , Mr. Coates’ The Water Dancer is a poetic rumination that reminds us that as hard as it may be, we will only realize our full selves if we remember. (This is an excerpt from a longer blog post originally posted on inthemargins.ca. Read the entire blog post here.)

Really loved this book and the way Ta-Nehisi weaves together elements of magic realism and historical fiction. These different genre influences (and the core arc of the hero's journey through the book) come together to be far more than the sum of their parts, lending a sense of familiarity in the overall plot that still feels fresh. At a meta level, I really like how this writing influence also reflects the crucial in-universe themes of storytelling and memory - especially the power of interpreting the base, familiar stories of our collective cultural consciousness. These themes of storytelling and remembrance take on additional weight and significance in the context of slavery, and I found myself both transported and deeply emotionally moved, particularly in the second half of the novel. Slavery and race are obviously incredibly heavy (and unfortunately, still relevant) topics, and having read a lot of Ta-Nehisi's essays and non-fiction work, I was really interested in seeing how he would approach a more traditional piece of fiction. The approach is serious without ever feeling emotionally manipulative, looking pretty unflinchingly at the brutality of slavery and Hiram's trauma. On top of that, Ta-Nehisi's prose is really what brings everything together for me. I found the rhythm of the dialogue and first person narration incredibly beautiful and almost trancelike, contributing to my own sense of falling into the world of the novel. I really disagree with some other reviewers on here who talk about the writing being wordy or overly descriptive - dialect and character voice aside (which I'm not qualified to speak on but still felt really great to me), the introspective and deep observation is part and parcel of Hiram's character and power. While we're on the topic of other reviews, I need to quickly note how GD MF mindboggling some of the top Goodreads reviews on this book are. I cannot comprehend how the top voted review's criticisms focus on how "those parts embellished with beautiful magical realism didn’t fit the harsh realistic and shameful history" and "All the psychical, mental suffering, brutality of slavery give us cold showers and shake us to the core, freeze your blood. But when the magical elements took control of the story-telling, I shook my head “no” because I found it a little clunky". Love getting this random Karen's take on slavery and how Ta-Nehisi should have taken a more serious approach to the topic here? And how she, as the cultural expert on African traditions and storytelling, can claim that the magic realism is somehow incongruous with the brutality of slavery. Additional criticisms of Hiram's character as "flat" or "too wordy" (found in this review and many others) also make me want to burst a vein, as they not only miss the entire point of Hiram's particular view of the world, but also suppose that the inability to personally empathize with a slave character's view of the world suggests some authorial deficiency, rather than a lack of empathy on their own behalf. I could go on about these smooth-brained (but to their credit, honest) readers, but will instead stop myself in order to move on to the plot itself. (view spoiler)[ I definitely do hear the criticism of the start of the book as a bit slow and plodding. Ta-Nehisi takes his time building up the distinct world and language of Hiram's pre-Civil War Virginia, but I definitely think this energy and care pays off. Thanks to my own shallow education, I didn't even realize that terms like "the Tasked", "the Quality", or "Natchez-way" were primarily terms of his own construction; either way, I ultimately did value the starting time to adjust my own reading style in following the overall narrative. The in media res opening of the book, with Hiram and Maynard plunging into the Goose, was also one of the weaker authorial choices made throughout the book. I might be missing some deeper thematic reading here, but I felt like this section was simply not exciting or interesting enough to serve as a hook. Even though we get the first shimmerings of Conduction in this part, that core magic is not what drove me to keep turning pages, and the fundamental action, the brush with death, and trauma from that accident also don't feel like strong enough ballast to keep the initial section of the book moving forward. However, once Hiram and Sofia attempt their getaway and Hiram gets tested and captured by the Bryceton Station, I really started feeling the momentum of the plot. The internal and external progression of character and setting as Hiram moves further north is really interesting, and I absolutely felt myself following along Hiram's ever evolving mindset towards identity and freedom. Where others have seemingly perceived as a lack of agency on Hiram's behalf, I interpreted a very natural and believable expansion of internal consciousness and agency - and how could those not obviously be the central themes to a story about slavery!!! With all that growth and development in hand, it was an absolute emotional sucker punch to have Hiram return to Lockless in the costume of one of the Tasked. This entire section was deeply stirring to me, and I'm realizing now that it's because I genuinely felt the same sort of nostalgia (and horror) as Hiram rekindled the two relationships that mattered most to him, in the most horrifying overarching context. Without the time and energy spent in the beginning establishing this sense of place around Lockless, I don't think this deeper feeling would have been possible. I think it's so cool to spend a serious amount of time (and have some of the most significant plot content) within this "last" stage of the Hero's Journey, when they actually return home. Hiram certainly gains the broader skills and knowledge he needs in his travels through the North, but it was a great choice to leave the big reveal and "power up" in regards to Conduction actually happen with Thena and Sofia in the place where everything started. While the ending of the book was, on paper, maybe a little rushed, I also felt ready for the story to come to a close and loved the overall note things ended on. Passing Thena off to Harriett and Kessiah reallllly punched me in the heart, and then Hiram's passing confrontation of his father and return to Sofia and Carrie was gorgeous. (hide spoiler)] The one other thing I want to note before ending this review was how thoughtfully the underlying themes were handled. Again, this books is mainly a story about stories, and memories, and the power of capturing those stories for ourselves and those we love. However, I loved that the broader theme of liberation drew not only slavery/race, but also gender and class. The continual framing of the relationship between the Quality and the Tasked was intellectually stimulating and emotionally jarring in the best way possible. I really appreciated the various sections when Hiram looked towards the Quality (slaveowner or freedom fighter) and tried to breakdown how, fundamentally, human beings could rationalize the trade of other human beings. Even if a bit on the nose, I think Ta-Nehisi did a great job pointing those observations and lessons directly into our modern day and the way that we still navigate race in America. Like I said above, I really appreciated that the same thematic development around race also played out in parallel (but deeply intertwined) with gender as well. The central relationships hinge on those same core ideas of possession, trauma, and jealousy, and the way Ta-Nehisi built up Hiram's own development really pushed me to look inwards and interrogate my own patterns of thinking and being. This shifting lens of masculinity ended up being a much more significant theme than I expected, but I really appreciated how it was given time and space throughout to narrative to progress. The cheeky section in part II that winks towards broader intersectionality and activism was perhaps a little campy (and I'm not sure how historically accurate), but also really enjoyable nonetheless. Big review, but definitely a book worthy of that thoughtfulness - and also one I felt my own perspective shift on as I read on. Absolutely worth pushing the slow start here and diving into the story, both for the emotional payoff and the underlying themes and social critique.