Day 641, Quasi-Quarantine: Brilliant Colson Whitehead Turns The Focus Inward In The Singular "Sag Harbor"

 

"You could coexist in this Sag Harbor galaxy in perfectly alienated orbits, always zipping into each other's blind spots, or hidden on the dark side of the moon. Of course that could happen to people who lived on the same street. Sometimes it happened to people who lived in the same house."

Representing a departure from the gut-punching solemnity of books like "The Nickel Boys" and "The Underground Railroad," "Sag Harbor" features Colson Whitehead combining humor and nostalgia in a coming-of-age memoir.

Tinted with sneaky emotion, this novel reads more like an essay, following a group of young Black children as they search for their place in the world as affluent summer residents of a Long Island resort town.

"According to the world, we were the definition of paradox: black boys with beach houses." 

"I was nostalgic for everything big and small. Nostalgic for what never happened and nostalgic about what will be, looking forward to looking back on a time when things got easier."

While the book is undeniably hilarious (particularly his memories of the New Coke fiasco), Whitehead is at his best when he's exploring family dynamics and coming to terms with the asshole-ness of Benji's father.

"The Street in my father's mind was a vast, abstract plane of black pathology. He'd grown up poor, fighting his way home every day off Lenox Avenue, and any hint that he hadn't escaped, that all his suffering had been for naught, kindled his temper and his deep fear that aspiration was an illusion and the street a labyrinth without exit, a mess of connecting alleys and avenues always leading back into itself."

"The lesson was, Don't be afraid of being hit, but over the years I took it as, No one can hurt you more than I can."

"We were a few months into When Dad Called Reggie Shithead for a Year."

For those waiting for something profound to happen, there may be some disappointment. However, if you push past that expectation and embrace the adolescent feelings of trying to find where you fit and how to be in the broader landscape, "Sag Harbor" hits the mark, bringing melancholy in on soft ocean breezes.

"No houses, not footprints even, just beach grass whispering to itself. Saying -- what? You'd have to spend some time to learn its language. That first generation asked, Can we make it work? Will they allow us to have this? It doesn't matter what the world says, they answered each other. This place is ours."