Name: The Bluest Eye
Rating: 4.133333333333334 (30 reviews)
ISBN: 9780808562825

Toni Morrison

The story of Pecola Breedlove profiles an eleven-year-old African American girl growing up in an America that values blue-eyed blondes and the tragedy that results from her longing to be accepted.

The Bluest Eye

Élise

“We had dropped our seeds in our own little plot of black dirt just as Pecola’s father had dropped his seeds in his own plot of black dirt.”

“So when I think of autumn, I think of somebody with hands who does not want me to die.”

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

“Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, weak people love weakly, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is never safe. There is no gift for the beloved. The lover alone possesses his gift of love. The loved one is shorn, neutralized, frozen in the glare of the lover’s inward eye.”

“Along with the idea of romantic love, she was introduced to another—physical beauty. Probably the most destructive ideas in the history of human thought. Both originated in envy, thrived in insecurity, and ended in disillusion. In equating physical beauty with virtue, she stripped her mind, bound it, and collected self-contempt by the heap.”

 wen

Beauty was not simply something to behold; it was something one could do

lara

My sister comes in. Her eyes are full of sorrow. She sings to me: "When the deep purple falls over sleepy garden walls, someone thinks of me...." I doze, thinking of plums, walls and "someone" 

And in the night, when my coughing was dry and tough, feet padded into the room, hands repinned the flannel, readjusted the quilt, and rested a moment on my forehead. So when I think of autumn, I think of somebody with hands who does not want me to die.

The best hiding place was love. Thus the conversation from pristine sadism to fabricated hatred, to fraudulent love. It was a small step to Shirley Temple. I learned so much later to worship her, just as I learned to delight in cleanliness, knowing, even as I learned, that the change was adjustment without improvement.

To eat the candy is somehow to eat the eyes, eat Mary Jane. Love Mary Jane. Be Mary Jane.

Maybe that was love. Choking sounds and silence.

The Thing to fear was the Thing that made her beautiful, and not us.

Pecola turned to find the front door and saw Jesus looking down at her with sad and unsurprised eyes, his long brown hair parted in the middle, the gay paper flowers twisted around his face.

sariya

"Misery colored by the greens and blues in my mother's voice took all of the grief out of the words and left me with a conviction that pain was not only endurable, it was sweet."

"'How do you do that? I mean, how do you get somebody to love you?'"

"The tiny, undistinguished days that Mrs. Breedlove lived were identified, grouped, and classes by these quarrels. They gave substance to the minutes and hours otherwise dim and unrecalled. They relieved the tiresomeness of poverty, gave grandeur to the dead rooms. In these violent breaks in routine that were themselves routine, she could display the style and imagination of what she believed to be her own true self. To deprive her of these fights was to deprive her of all the zest and reasonableness of life."

"You looked at them and wondered why they were so ugly; you looked closely and could not find the source. Then you realized that it came from conviction, their conviction. It was as though some mysterious all-knowing master had given each one a cloak of ugliness to wear, and they each had accepted it without question. The master had said, 'You are ugly people.' They had looked about themselves and saw nothing to contradict the statement; saw, in fact, support for it leaning at them from every billboard, every movie, every glance. "Yes," they had said. "You are right." And they took the ugliness in their hands, threw it as a mantle over them, and went about the world with it."

"Thrown, in this way, into the binding conviction that only a miracle could relieve her, she would never know her beauty. She would only see what there was to see: the eyes of other people."

"These and other inanimate things she saw and experienced. They were real to her. She knew them. They were the codes and touchstones of the world, capable of translation and possession. She owned the crack that made her stumble; she owned the clumps of dandelions whose white heads, last fall, she had blown away; whose yellow heads, this fall, she peered into. And owning them made her part of the world, and the world a part of her."

"The distaste must be for her, her blackness. All things in her are flux and anticipation. But her blackness is static and dread. And it is the blackness that accounts for, that creates, the vacuum edged with distaste in white eyes."

"Anger is better. There is a sense of being in anger. A reality and presence. An awareness of worth. It is a lovely surging."

"They seemed to have taken all of their smoothly cultivated ignorance, their exquisitely learned self-hatred, their elaborately designed hopelessness and sucked it all up into a fiery cone of scorn that had burned for ages in the hollows of their minds–cooled–and spilled over lips of outrage, consuming whatever was in its path. They danced a macabre ballet around the victim, whom, for their own sake, they were prepared to sacrifice to the flaming pit."

Heartbreaking and beautifully written, reads almost like poetry in some parts. Will be thinking about this book for a long time.  

Allegrachatterjee

i've never delved into the horror genre, but even if i did i think the intro of this book would make me feel the same way. even months after the first read it continues to weave in and out of my mind: while i'm staring at the bedroom ceiling in pitch-black and it gives me such a chill i have to raise the duvet covers the same way i did when i was twelve. sorry to all horror readers out there but the bluest eye is horror to Me

“And fantasy it was, for we were not strong, only aggressive; we were not free, merely licensed; we were not compassionate, we were polite; not good, but well behaved. We courted death in order to call ourselves brave, and hid like thieves from life. We substituted good grammar for intellect; we switched habits to simulate maturity; we rearranged lies and called it truth, seeing in the new pattern of an old idea the Revelation and the Word.”

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison is a book about innocence, loss, and the corrosive power of societal standards imposed upon marginalized individuals. Morrison's debut novel is a powerful narrative bursting with vivid imagery and complex symbolism that deeply resonates with readers. Set in Lorain, Ohio, in the 1940s, the story centers on Pecola Breedlove—an eleven-year-old African American girl who desperately longs for blue eyes, believing they will make her beautiful and worthy of love.

Morrison intertwines Pecola's tragic story with the broader context of a society deeply entrenched in racism, colorism, and classism. This includes the dominant culture's standard of beauty and success, a standard that seems utterly unattainable for Pecola and her family. It underscores how media, even in its seemingly innocent forms, can perpetuate harmful stereotypes and contribute to the erasure and denigration of Black experiences.

“Along with the idea of romantic love, she was introduced to another—physical beauty. Probably the most destructive ideas in the history of human thought. Both originated in envy, thrived in insecurity, and ended in disillusion.”

One of the most prominent themes in The Bluest Eye is the destructive nature of internalized racism. Pecola’s desire for blue eyes is not simply a superficial longing; it's a manifestation of her internalization of white beauty standards. She has been taught—both explicitly and implicitly—that whiteness is synonymous with beauty, goodness, and worthiness. This internalized racism leads to her self-hatred and, ultimately, her tragic downfall.

“Mrs. Breedlove handled hers as an actor does a prop: for the articulation of character, for support of a role she frequently imagined was hers—martyrdom. Sammy used his as a weapon to cause others pain. He adjusted his behavior to it, chose his companions on the basis of it: people who could be fascinated, even intimidated by it. And Pecola. She hid behind hers. Concealed, veiled, eclipsed—peeping out from behind the shroud very seldom, and then only to yearn for the return of her mask.”

Another theme that struck me is the link between family dysfunction and poverty. The Breedloves' poverty exacerbates their vulnerability and limits their options. Their impoverished living conditions, coupled with the lack of support and resources, contribute to the sense of hopelessness that pervades their lives. Morrison illustrates how poverty and lack of access to resources can further marginalize and disenfranchise individuals, making them even more susceptible to the damaging effects of racism and societal neglect. Furthermore, the Breedlove family is deeply damaged, plagued by trauma, abuse, and a lack of love and nurturing. This dysfunctional family dynamic contributes to Pecola's sense of isolation and her inability to develop a strong sense of self-worth.

“The thing we assassinated? I talk about how I did not plant the seeds too deeply, how it was the fault of the earth, the land, of our town. I even think now that the land of the entire country was hostile to marigolds that year.”

Pecola, as a character, is a mosaic of different stories that slowly influence and inhibit her. She is the embodiment of the beliefs that her mother suppresses, a victim of her father's trauma, prey to the manipulative Soaphead Church, and a target of a harsh society. She is born out of a maelstrom of societal rejection, of familial dysfunction, and of internalized self-hatred—a confluence of external forces that ultimately shatter her fragile sense of self. As a reader, you will deeply empathize with her, not just for the overt injustices she suffers, but for the insidious way her own sense of worth is systematically eroded. Morrison's masterful portrayal allows us to witness the slow, agonizing dismantling of a young girl's spirit, leaving us with a profound sense of sorrow and a piercing ache for a childhood irretrievably lost.

The Bluest Eye unflinchingly confronts the social problems of its time, many of which remain relevant today. Morrison tackles the issue of media representation head-on, demonstrating how the pervasive imagery of white beauty in popular culture can negatively impact the self-esteem and identity of Black individuals. The novel also exposes the complexities of colorism within the Black community, where lighter skin is often privileged over darker skin. This is evident in the way that even other Black characters, like Maureen Peal, internalize and perpetuate these colorist biases.

“Our astonishment was short-lived, for it gave way to a curious kind of defensive shame; we were embarrassed for Pecola, hurt for her, and finally we just felt sorry for her. Our sorrow drove out all thoughts of the new bicycle. And I believe our sorrow was the more intense because nobody else seemed to share it.”

For me, this book was very difficult to rate. Therefore, I've decided to leave it unrated. The Bluest Eye is a powerful and disturbing novel that forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths about race, beauty, and the lasting impact of societal prejudice. Even though I am not a fan of the sudden shifts in narration, Morrison's masterful use of language, symbolism, and narrative structure creates a deeply moving and unforgettable reading experience. The Bluest Eye is a crucial work in the American literary canon that continues to resonate with readers today and an impactful book that everyone should read in their lifetime.

Rien

“And fantasy it was, for we were not strong, only aggressive; we were not free, merely licensed; we were not compassionate, we were polite; not good, but well behaved. We courted death in order to call ourselves brave, and hid like thieves from life. We substituted good grammar for intellect; we switched habits to simulate maturity; we rearranged lies and called it truth, seeing in the new pattern of an old idea the Revelation and the Word.”

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison is a book about innocence, loss, and the corrosive power of societal standards imposed upon marginalized individuals. Morrison's debut novel is a powerful narrative bursting with vivid imagery and complex symbolism that deeply resonates with readers. Set in Lorain, Ohio, in the 1940s, the story centers on Pecola Breedlove—an eleven-year-old African American girl who desperately longs for blue eyes, believing they will make her beautiful and worthy of love.

Morrison intertwines Pecola's tragic story with the broader context of a society deeply entrenched in racism, colorism, and classism. This includes the dominant culture's standard of beauty and success, a standard that seems utterly unattainable for Pecola and her family. It underscores how media, even in its seemingly innocent forms, can perpetuate harmful stereotypes and contribute to the erasure and denigration of Black experiences.

“Along with the idea of romantic love, she was introduced to another—physical beauty. Probably the most destructive ideas in the history of human thought. Both originated in envy, thrived in insecurity, and ended in disillusion.”

One of the most prominent themes in The Bluest Eye is the destructive nature of internalized racism. Pecola’s desire for blue eyes is not simply a superficial longing; it's a manifestation of her internalization of white beauty standards. She has been taught—both explicitly and implicitly—that whiteness is synonymous with beauty, goodness, and worthiness. This internalized racism leads to her self-hatred and, ultimately, her tragic downfall.

“Mrs. Breedlove handled hers as an actor does a prop: for the articulation of character, for support of a role she frequently imagined was hers—martyrdom. Sammy used his as a weapon to cause others pain. He adjusted his behavior to it, chose his companions on the basis of it: people who could be fascinated, even intimidated by it. And Pecola. She hid behind hers. Concealed, veiled, eclipsed—peeping out from behind the shroud very seldom, and then only to yearn for the return of her mask.”

Another theme that struck me is the link between family dysfunction and poverty. The Breedloves' poverty exacerbates their vulnerability and limits their options. Their impoverished living conditions, coupled with the lack of support and resources, contribute to the sense of hopelessness that pervades their lives. Morrison illustrates how poverty and lack of access to resources can further marginalize and disenfranchise individuals, making them even more susceptible to the damaging effects of racism and societal neglect. Furthermore, the Breedlove family is deeply damaged, plagued by trauma, abuse, and a lack of love and nurturing. This dysfunctional family dynamic contributes to Pecola's sense of isolation and her inability to develop a strong sense of self-worth.

“The thing we assassinated? I talk about how I did not plant the seeds too deeply, how it was the fault of the earth, the land, of our town. I even think now that the land of the entire country was hostile to marigolds that year.”

Pecola, as a character, is a mosaic of different stories that slowly influence and inhibit her. She is the embodiment of the beliefs that her mother suppresses, a victim of her father's trauma, prey to the manipulative Soaphead Church, and a target of a harsh society. She is born out of a maelstrom of societal rejection, of familial dysfunction, and of internalized self-hatred—a confluence of external forces that ultimately shatter her fragile sense of self. As a reader, you will deeply empathize with her, not just for the overt injustices she suffers, but for the insidious way her own sense of worth is systematically eroded. Morrison's masterful portrayal allows us to witness the slow, agonizing dismantling of a young girl's spirit, leaving us with a profound sense of sorrow and a piercing ache for a childhood irretrievably lost.

The Bluest Eye unflinchingly confronts the social problems of its time, many of which remain relevant today. Morrison tackles the issue of media representation head-on, demonstrating how the pervasive imagery of white beauty in popular culture can negatively impact the self-esteem and identity of Black individuals. The novel also exposes the complexities of colorism within the Black community, where lighter skin is often privileged over darker skin. This is evident in the way that even other Black characters, like Maureen Peal, internalize and perpetuate these colorist biases.

“Our astonishment was short-lived, for it gave way to a curious kind of defensive shame; we were embarrassed for Pecola, hurt for her, and finally we just felt sorry for her. Our sorrow drove out all thoughts of the new bicycle. And I believe our sorrow was the more intense because nobody else seemed to share it.”

For me, this book was very difficult to rate. Therefore, I've decided to leave it unrated. The Bluest Eye is a powerful and disturbing novel that forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths about race, beauty, and the lasting impact of societal prejudice. Even though I am not a fan of the sudden shifts in narration, Morrison's masterful use of language, symbolism, and narrative structure creates a deeply moving and unforgettable reading experience. The Bluest Eye is a crucial work in the American literary canon that continues to resonate with readers today and an impactful book that everyone should read in their lifetime.



I want to throw up. The story was so gut wrenching, it makes me sick. Toni Morrison did so well! The characters are -almost all of them- so repelling, wow.

The Bluest Eye

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