But it’s this pain that forms us, that makes us who we are, and reminds us of where we come from, regardless of the color of our skin or the gods we pray to. It showcases the brutality in human history and the pain of remembering the past. This novella is crushing and beautiful and emotionally impactful beyond belief for something of its length, and I don’t think it’s possible to truly express how this book has affected me. The Deep is a gorgeous piece of literature mourning the tragic and traumatic history of the African slave trade, as well as celebrating a renewed sense of belonging and togetherness. We are more vast and more beauteous than that name implies. If they are all to survive, they’ll need to reclaim the memories, reclaim their identity-and own who they really are.Ī whole chorus of the deep.
Yetu will learn more than she ever expected to about her own past-and about the future of her people. And so, she flees to the surface, escaping the memories, the expectations, and the responsibilities-and discovers a world her people left behind long ago. Yetu remembers for everyone, and the memories, painful and wonderful, traumatic and terrible and miraculous, are destroying her.
This demanding role has been bestowed on Yetu. Their past, too traumatic to be remembered regularly, is forgotten by everyone, save one-the historian. Yetu holds the memories for her people-water-dwelling descendants of pregnant African slave women thrown overboard by slave owners-who live idyllic lives in the deep.
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