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I am also free enough to realize that to attempt to damage such a life would not be helpful and would in fact be a backward move. There is far more important work to be done. May we all enter the New Year peacefully, and in peace continue our journey. Happy Solstice! The Light is Returning to a Darkened World. I do not believe he is anti-Semitic or anti-Jewish. I do believe he is brave enough to ask the questions others fear to ask, and to speak his own understanding of the truth wherever it might lead.

Many attempts have been made to censor and silence him. As a woman, and a person of color, as a writer who has been criticized and banned myself, I support his right to share his own thoughts. It is a sad day for freedom of inquiry, thought, and speech, when an attempt is made to frighten people into lying about what is on their nightstand. This, of course, will be the effect of this misguided and cowardly backlash. I say cowardly because I believe the attempt to smear David Icke, and by association, me, is really an effort to dampen the effect of our speaking out in support of the people of Palestine.

Pacifists have no option, really, but to make our resistance felt through non-compliance with injustice and brutality. The razing of crops. The taking of land. The imprisonment of poets. I read everything. I even tried once to read Mein Kampf but found it too steeped in German history to make sense. It also seemed pedantic and boring. But after hearing so much about it, I wanted to know what it said for myself. Suppose these books had been in the pile of books on my nightstand? Was I to be so fearful of what people thought that I would deny I was attempting to read them? The same is true of reading the Talmud, or the Bible, for that matter.

Some parts of both are extremely problematic, and contain programming — about how to live, think, behave — that has caused us more grief than we, poor beaten down humans, for the most part, deserve. What do I believe might save us, as humans, yet? It may sound absurd.

The ignorance of many humans, especially in our country, is abysmal. Everything you see, read, or hear, has a backstory. A history. A reason. And Icke, among many others, digs around in the past to try to find out what it is. Awareness is key and we are lucky that there are people, intelligent ones, who care enough to raise it. I say read everybody, read everything! Being mocked, called ridiculous names, and disinvited from events by people whose backbones turn to jelly the moment they realize they might be criticized for having you appear, is a small price to pay for continuing in solidarity with Ancestors who would not have you be any other way.

And with all my love,. Seen many of those lately not backed up by missiles and tanks? Take it or leave it, he is offering something extremely timely and useful. A completely new and different way to understand the world. And if you love mythology, as I do, you will have a fine time seeing how a new myth, with us in it!

Still, for some this will seem very far out, and way beyond the safety net of Joseph Campbell. Or even beyond the wild tales and fables of Greek and Hindu storytellers, my favorites for many years. Ah, madness. Wonderful stuff.


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You know: virgin births, life after death in the same body, the making of the planet and maybe the whole universe in a week by someone who looks surprisingly like the white man oppressing you, the blackness of humans being a curse, the required obedience of slaves to their masters, the making of woman out of a rib, the silence required of this same rib-fashioned woman in any gathering of the Holy all male by definition and so on.

Keep an open mind. Change the habits, the hats, the mind-set, the conversation, by any means necessary. Whoever they are. Imagine the Greeks with none of their mythological history to succor, guide, and sometimes horrify them into consciousness. His teachings about so many things are immensely valuable.

Indeed, I have been envisioning how an entire course of study might be constructed around his wisdom. I am perhaps not the person to attempt such a course, but it is obvious to me it would benefit the planet and human and animal kind if someone did. There is a world of information this great teacher and healer offers us: from the perhaps thousands of years Africans have interacted with Space beings to this revelatory look below at the African way with ancient and contemporary Crop Circles.

A gardener, I loved crop circles from the moment I was shown pictures of them. I was also moved by the spirit of the beings who made them. To create so beautifully, so mysteriously, how cool they must be! I also resonate deeply with the traditional African sense of reciprocity and reverence with these unanticipated guests. Credo Mutwa is now 92 years old.

He is in great pain, suffering from the knowledge that, as he says, his continent, Africa, is being murdered. What can we do to stop the depopulation of Africa, of Earth? Let us begin by knowing who we have been; what has already been taken from humanity. Let us honor and love ourselves, and each other, before we go.

This behavior, he said, sometimes saves lives. When attackers see they must eliminate many instead of one, sometimes not always unfortunately they think twice. We are affirmed in our humanity which is actually defined by the work we do, and have done, in the world. This is also the way we create and maintain a different world system, one in which each of us knows we will be seen and affirmed by others who have the courage and self-respect to do so.

I have defended many great souls in my life, and hope to do so many times more before I leave this reality. But I have appreciated it very much, as I see such solidarity as being what the struggle for an improved humanity is about. Or even neighbors and parents. Here below is her piece, which appeared in Al Jazeera some months ago. Once again, thank you Susan Albulhawa. I believe with all my heart that the better world of which we dream and for which we work so hard will be accomplished by each of us showing the courage to rise to a higher, more intense, and perhaps more dangerous level of solidarity than we had presumed the struggle required.

The world is in an uproar. The danger zone is everywhere.

Healing comes out of a very simple human relationship — knowing your life matters to another person, and connecting to something larger and unseen. Born to be free. What books are on your nightstand? Bombed-out, psychologically traumatized Cambodia has become a place where even children are seen as commodities and treated worse than never terrorized or subjugated humans can imagine.

Photo above by: Yolanda Padilla. Photo below by: Alice Walker. Taking the Arrow Out of the Heart …. In Community. Taking the Arrow Out of the Heart. The Mother of Trees. I have been so impressed by the black women who are at the forefront of the effort to remove the statues of Confederate soldiers from public squares and college campuses that I could be hugging on them right this minute. Instead, while clearing my summer garden of autumn trash, and checking my late corn to see if it is ripe yes, Southern black girl training: understanding that training comes before magic Spirit gave me an idea that I think we Southern black women, together, might work on.

As we know from experience, it is imperative that we remain faithful to Soul, unless we want our music to be ruined forever. The one who was a young man, sometimes only a boy, happy on his farm and fishing in his creek, who had no idea really that war existed, or what it was. Of course nobody in the South and the North as well other than the men whose aggrandizement of property and power depends on wars, knew what war really was. A big war, that would murder hundreds of thousands, and leave stacks of amputated arms and legs and other parts in heaps wherever it tarried.

I was born in Middle Georgia. Our Confederate soldier has stood in the middle of town, facing North, for as long as I can remember. That told us a lot. Recently, a friend who lives there, mentioned in passing that our county refused, as long as it could, to join the Confederacy. Because people were happy enough as they were and saw no point. There he stood, basically ignored. Suppose he was thirteen? Sixteen, Seventeen? Suppose he had just fallen in love?

Suppose he was really poor, as so many poor white folks were. Suppose there was nobody to look after his family once he was gone. It would probably have been some poor white and black folks, elders probably, who refused to let them starve, or have babies without company and assistance.

Those horrid monuments to slaughter of the innocents must be placed where everyone can really look at them. On a battlefield, is a great idea, as has been suggested. Black and white must write the truth, in stone, on the base of each one. And the ones in Richmond, Virginia, for instance, so large they tower over everything, should be right in the center.

Visitors should be invited to truly comprehend all the moving parts of a war that scarred the hearts of all our people, as deeply as it scarred the beautiful Southern countryside, and to shed their blind insistence on defending a history that did not exist. That would be so like us. Contrary, you know. Generally the space that slavery and segregation has left us in peace is our cemeteries.

We might place our stone there. In its modesty — something we can afford, collectively, without a lot of stress — it can blend with the earth, which does not relish the destruction of war, either. Many years of happiness, whole lifetimes, were stolen from you; we know how this feels. May our descendants not waste their time and their lives on wars that are planned to enrich the coffers of strangers, but instead stand together against all wars and spend their time on this beautiful planet smiling, bowing to its beauty, and dancing.

Por favor lea. Oir Omarosa. But this is where we are As a nation of cowards, As we follow a person, Who, as Omarosa warns us, Is falling over a cliff; His thumb near a button That might annihilate us all.

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His anger certain to be taken out On the children and their parents, Grandparents, housing and food stores, In Korea and Iran. Syria, and other places too. As well as on black people everywhere Whose feelings he consistently ignores And hurts. Lucky for dogs They do not feel this pain. They go about their business Same as always: An eternity of kindness In their expressive eyes; Aeons of concern and helpfulness; Offerings of joy In every Age. Dogs are the winners here On Earth I think. They know what is Apparently impossible For many humans to learn: That there exists A kind of free Goodness In the soul that gives up All pretense Of being more of or better than: A kind of free happiness In being creatures With nothing to hide.

Written in defense of dogs everywhere. And of women, everywhere. Grow up. Nigger has a meaning You would have to live Lifetimes To comprehend. Niggers have at least one Honorable tradition, No matter how many Gold nooses, chains, and shackles They wear. They have never endangered a planet Or even destroyed part of one. Most still respect children. Spelman College students studying for classes while in jail in Atlanta. Early Sixties. Marian Wright later Edelman , not reading, displays the look and posture of so many young protesters of the time: there is courage, determination, and vulnerability.

Download pdf kb. Principios de los One thing you can count on :. Wonders Never Ceasing. Ah, we say to each other: there is that wisdom, that tenderness, that togetherness, that love, that kept us going for so long. This is what it can look like today, and is, today, apparently, for some people; though infrequently exhibited on television, where a gun or a car is so often exploding. If only my parents could have watched Queen Sugar. Farmers, they would at last have seen something they and their grandparents, and their parents and grandparents before them, would have understood. Love of Earth, love of the land, along with the understanding that humans who inhabit it are responsible for its care.

They would have seen themselves, vividly depicted, in their daily, monthly, yearly, dramas. Passionate and principled people — once some of them outgrew despair and gave up drinking — they would have relished seeing themselves as whole and capable, standing together as one stalk, though spread into infinity —and with so much variety! It is a powerful gift, Queen Sugar. A wonder.

Alice Walker Biography

And proves again that where the heart and brain are united in offering the very best that can be conceived, there too an art that encourages the people, and loves us into healthful growth, will be born. What History can be for: Knowing when something now happening to others has also happened to you. A friend, in passing, mentioned he was reading this book.

He was struck by the similarity of the suffering of poor people all over the world. I had not heard of it, but when he said it made him better understand the Irish Potato Famine of the s I realized I had wanted to understand this period better since the time, in college probably, I first learned of it. What exactly happened? And how did this catastrophe, in which over a million poor farmers starved to death, and, while in the process of starving, were evicted from their land and homes, connect with the hundreds of thousands of Irish people who immigrated to the United States?

How did their passage differ from that of other white emigrants? And how did they deal with the fact that while they were starving and dying and forced to leave Ireland because their potatoes -the primary diet -were diseased and inedible, the landowners whose potatoes were unaffected by the blight, shipped them abroad for a profit.

What did they learn from their physical, psychic, and emotional journey? Had it profoundly changed them? What was Margaret Mitchell really showing us in this saga set in the deep South during the American Civil War, a mere twenty years after the Irish Potato famine. What about Robert Kennedy who learned by being shown, in the s, that black children were starving in Mississippi, in America?

And wept. The Star of the Sea is the name of the ship on which the emigrants sailed. It as book contains some of the most beautiful, intricate, deep, funny and sorrowful writing I have ever read. One photograph of the author shows someone otherworldly, as if this book though he has written many others was his assignment on being sent here. I learned more about the history of England and Ireland —and the cruelty and greed of both their upper classes -from reading this book truly amazing on Audio than I had despaired of ever knowing. Or as a teaching on the concealed miseries of the Upper Classes who get all the toys and little of the soul.

It is quite true, one realizes anew, reading this book, that the world is not divided into countries as much as into classes. A lot of energy goes into keeping this fact concealed. There are workers, in vast numbers, all over the earth, and there is the One Percent; who all seem to know each other. I listened to it twice, for the pleasure of the writing, and grasped most threads, I hope. Good luck. His voice is perfect for the story.

Also for napping. This too seemed perfect. I recently ran across an earlier review I wrote of another book from Ireland that moved me deeply. Read together some questions from Star of the Sea are answered. Even Charles Dickens, whom we appreciate for being the voice of so many abused children, is left in the dust. Managing to stay alive, only just, by her own wits, in a world determined to erase her life and to make her believe, in her very soul, that she is nothing. It is a hair-raising read.

That it is a best seller in Ireland and England gives me hope. Margaret Long is not being abandoned again. Still, it is so difficult a read one might ask: Why should we bother? Especially those children who, unwittingly, inherit the brutalities of colonialism, whether in Ireland, where this story is set, or the rest of the globe. I was amazed to feel some of the English, Irish, Scottish ancestors of both enslaved Africans and indentured Europeans in the Americas showing up in the characters of the Dubliners Margaret Long depicts.

And who, some of them, unfortunately, still walk among us. The destruction of our common humanity through the manipulation of imposed poverty, misogyny, alcoholism and drug abuse, is a major source of our misery, world-wide; and has been for a long time. Into our love for ourselves And for our brown and black sons Who are so under attack.

They are killing themselves And let us not forget That from Palestine to Los Angeles They are being killed By other youth and grownups, Who are themselves, in essence, Already murdered. We ask in our daze Of being so connected To everything in the Universe Except the murdered, The suicides;. Support Avaaz on this issue! It was a massacre!! The stinking hypocrisy knows no bounds, and no shame.

What clashes?? It IS a massacre. Another installment of 40 years of Israeli racist brutality and military repression. Avaaz battles racism everywhere. Israel today is an ethnic dictatorship — one of the most brutally racist regimes on the planet. It has become unhinged, and it deserves to be a pariah state. Other states have faced sanctions for far less. Take action to help save Palestinian lives! Israel has marched steadily away from reason and peace and towards the far right. Members of Parliament called for the beating of Ahed Tamimi, the young Palestinian girl who slapped a soldier after her young cousin was shot in the face — and the Defence Minister himself ordered to punish her entire family.

But we love Jews, as we love all people. The holocaust was real, Jews were brutally oppressed and still face anti semitism worldwide. Not just in words, but action. Like extremists everywhere, they dream of a world where sensible people lose their judgment and are pulled into two warring camps, one of which is led by them. It has always calmed me To have them near. I like especially to see Jews standing firm With the same Realization I also have: That the dream of one humanity, Of one race of humankind Is being born each day In every one of us Who leave race and culture and religion Handed to us at birth behind.

What happened to Japanese -Americans during that war, uprooted and forced to relocate in barren deserts, and other such desolate places, is an unknown among most Americans. Partly this is because the Japanese- Americans, ashamed to have been treated so badly by white, European- Americans, rarely, if ever, wanted members of their communities to talk about it. But also, there was, there must have been, the belief that the suffering and humiliation they endured would eventually be forgotten.

There is a suffering — especially when coupled with humiliation — that goes so deeply into the soul that it can never be forgotten. It must be faced. And, a place must be found for it. That is what Julie Otsuka does in these two extraordinary books. She shows us what happened, the horrible treatment of the Japanese -American cooks and nannies and houseboys and gardeners, as well as the teachers, doctors, lawyers, and mothers and fathers and girls and boys, when the United States government decided that all yellow people were spies for the emperor of Japan. For years. In their slender elegance — matched by a restrained, if tough and invincible pride of heritage -— these books represent a literary monument to all who were abused, all who suffered physical and spiritual wounds, all who managed to rise again, and all who fell.

Every word, chosen by Otsuka as carefully as if it were a flower, is laid on an altar of literary beauty, so that those who endured and those who could not, might know, if only through their descendants, that they have been remembered in just the right way, and may rest. My letter of support for your march will reach you too late to support your brave efforts of April 9th, to confront and somehow humanize your oppressors, the women and men, many of whom are only a few years older than you, of the Israeli military.

Biography of Alice Walker, Pulitzer Prize Winning Writer

I am deeply sorry for this because I think you are amazing human beings who demonstrate as much courage and resilience as any children the world has ever seen. You have of course paid dearly for this and no words that I or anyone else can say will take away the pain that lies leaden in your hearts. You were commemorating, yesterday, someone that I loved very much when I was young: Martin Luther king. I met him briefly while I was a student; a blessing I hold dearer the older I get.

Even as a child I saw this was as idiotic as separating people by the color of their hair. What the world will eventually understand, and by then it will be too late, is: As Gaza goes, so goes the world. All human activity teaches something to the human race. What is happening in Gaza, and has been happening in Gaza, the brutality of the theft of the lives and livelihoods of a people, will be seared so deeply into common consciousness across the globe that it will become acceptable, even in areas where people assume they are safe. It is as if humans all have separate heads, but only one brain.

In fact, I have written a poem about that. But never mind! I send you my love, my caring, my understanding of as much of your culture and history as I have been able to absorb. I have considered this the duty of a conscious adult whose taxes are used, against my will, to finance much of the disaster befalling you. All adults owe you the respect of making the attempt to understand what you are up against; what you have been up against for decades.

The world will continue to suffer from its neglect of you. And what oppresses you today may well become what oppresses everyone in the not so distant future. As we pray for you, young ones, so dedicated to learning and growth, pray also for us. You have probably heard how the violence that you have faced for generations, as children and as adults, has now lodged in our own cities and schools in America.


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  • In the case of Palestine, they demolish your homes and even drain away your drinking water. But true happiness comes from doing what is right, a rightness based on inner peace. It is this that both you, and Martin Luther King, demonstrate to the world. It is an offering that has cost you more suffering than most humans can even bear to learn about. It is nonetheless, because humans can be beautiful, and earth is in essence a paradise that we must protect, the only work at this moment that truly matters.

    Grownups Must Behave! As long as there are children. Grownups must behave And stop acting like They are the only ones Around the place. They must study With suspicion Every word grownups say. Those same grownups Who are responsible For the combustible predicament We are in all over the Earth. Is a fiction. For what, on the evidence, Do they know? How to put the lives Of children -Who belong to everyone- In gravest danger!

    They must be protected From their devices. Remember the child in you. Protect her. Protect him. Protect them. Protect all the babies Of planet earth: Whether the fox Chased and torn apart by mad men and women Or the rhino shot and killed By mad men and women Or the elephant shot and killed By mad men and women. Mighty Mother Earth Herself Has become In the hands of creatures Who never learned respect; And whose feelings of compassion were deleted, Assuming they ever existed, A very long time ago. But do not be discouraged.

    As your elder, it is my job to help you think Your way around this obstacle of taxes That have the blood of the children Of the world on them. What does this mean? You may well ask. It means that because money is all these so-called Grownups Appear to understand That we stop buying whatever new gadget They are selling. We can withdraw the energy of our dollars Without saying a word. Of having to buy every bauble dangled Before my eyes As thousands of children and their parents Are traumatized and killed. Energy from anything That depresses us And sends us searching For painkillers Including Sex, Crack, alcohol, and opioids.

    By practicing non-compliance With whatever in the society Supports it. Especially an economy That endorses and promotes other criminal offenses, like private prisons For its mostly poor And of color populations. Winnie Mandela We Love you. Winnie Mandela te amamos. See Search for poem. Those who love us never leave us alone with our grief.

    At the moment they show us our wound, they reveal they have the medicine. And where they, as slaves to cruel, or curious, or indifferent white persons with few exceptions existed in precarious suspension, disconnected from their real life, and where we also have had to struggle to protect our humanity, to experience joy of life, in spite of everything evil we have witnessed or to which we have been subjected.

    Reading Barracoon one understands immediately the problem many black people, years ago, especially black intellectuals and political leaders, had with it. Who would want to know, via a blow by blow account, how African chiefs deliberately set out to capture Africans from neighboring tribes, to provoke wars of conquest in order to capture for the slave trade, people — men, women, children — who belonged to Africa? And to do this in so hideous a fashion that reading about it two hundred years later brings waves of horror and distress.

    This is, make no mistake, a harrowing read.

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    What is a Maestrapiece? It is the feminine perspective or part of the structure, whether in stone or fancy, without which the entire edifice is a lie. Poor Zora. An anthropologist, no less! A daughter of Eatonville, Florida where truth, what was real, what actually happened to somebody, mattered. And so, she sits with Cudjo Lewis. She shares peaches and watermelon.

    Imagine how many generations of black people would never admit to eating watermelon! How black people came to America, how we were treated by black and white. How black Americans, enslaved themselves, ridiculed the Africans; making their lives so much harder. Fast enough. Machinery that could be mutilated, raped, killed, if the desire arose.

    Machinery that could be cheated, cheerfully, without a trace of guilt. His tender love for his wife, Seely, and their children. The horrible deaths that follow. We see a man so lonely for Africa, so lonely for his family, we are struck with the realization that he is naming something we ourselves work hard to avoid: how lonely we are too in this still foreign land: lonely for our true culture, our people, our singular connection to a specific understanding of the Universe.

    But we see something else: the nobility of a soul that has suffered to the point almost of erasure, and still it struggles to be whole, present, giving. Growing in love, deepening in understanding. Which he does. Offering peace. That though the heart is breaking, happiness can exist in a moment, also.

    And because the moment in which we live is all the time there really is, we can keep going. It may be true, and often is, that every person we hold dear is taken from us. From moment to moment, we watch our beans and our watermelons grow. We plant. We hoe. We harvest. We share with neighbors. If a young anthropologist appears with two hams and gives us one, we look forward to enjoying it. Life, inexhaustible, goes on.

    And we do too. Carrying our wounds and our medicines as we go. Ours is an amazing, a spectacular, journey in the Americas. It is so remarkable one can only be thankful for it, bizarre as that may sound. Perhaps our planet is for learning to appreciate the extraordinary wonder of life that surrounds even our suffering, and to say Yes , if through the thickest of tears.

    This so damaged the psyche of many black children that they grew up actually hating the fruit or, if they ate it, as adults, and liked it, this fact was hidden. I think the tender fragility of souls under extreme racist stress played a part in the denial of the African participation in the slave trade.

    I was delighted to meet and listen to Deepak Chopra at the Liberatum gathering in Mexico City this week. Rudolph E. Tanzi, Ph. Oops, time to learn that German and Swahili! Poetry, as Marti said, is more necessary to people than any other thing since it gives them the strength and the desire to live.

    Much love from, Manuel. One Wise Saying. Of the Ancestors. Is Worth More Than a Thousand. Hundreds of years Of this. What are they declaring now? That you are a monkey? A donkey? A chimp? A baboon? A communist, A conspiracy theorist, An anti-Semite? A know nothing, A moron, A disgrace, A shrew? Her literary reputation was secured with her Pulitzer Prize-winning third novel, The Color Purple, which was transformed into a popular film by Steven Spielberg.

    Upon the release of the novel in , critics sensed that Walker had created something special. Judging from the critical enthusiasm for The Color Purple, Steinem's words have proved prophetic. Walker "has succeeded," as Andrea Ford noted in the Detroit Free Press, "in creating a jewel of a novel. Prescott presented a similar opinion in a Newsweek review. The Color Purple, while easily satisfying that claim, brings into sharper focus many of the diverse themes that threaded their way through her past work. Her writing reflects these roots, where black vernacular was prominent and the stamp of slavery and oppression were still present.

    When she was eight, Walker was accidentally shot in the eye by a brother playing with his BB gun. Her parents, who were too poor to afford a car, could not take her to a doctor for several days. By that time, her wound was so bad that she had lost the use of her right eye. This handicap eventually aided her writer's voice, because she withdrew from others and became a meticulous observer of human relationships and interaction.

    An excellent student, Walker was awarded a scholarship to Spelman College in The civil rights movement attracted her, and she became an activist. In she decided to continue her education at Sarah Lawrence College in New York, where she began to work seriously on writing poems, publishing several in a college journal.

    After graduation, she moved to Mississippi to teach and continue her social activism, and she met and married Melvyn Leventhal, a Jewish civil rights lawyer. The two became the only legally married interracial couple living in Jackson, Mississippi. After their divorce in , Walker's literary output increased. Walker coined the term "Womanist" to describe her philosophical stance on the issue of gender. As a Womanist, which is different from a feminist, she sees herself as someone who appreciates women's culture, emotions, and character.

    Her work often reflects this stance, as well as the universality of human experience.

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    Walker's central characters are almost always black women; Walker, according to Steinem, "comes at universality through the path of an American black woman's experience. She speaks the female experience more powerfully for being able to pursue it across boundaries of race and class. For example, in her review of The Color Purple, Ford suggested that the novel transcends "culture and gender" lines but also refers to Walker's "unabashedly feminist viewpoint" and the novel's "black.

    Thadious M. Davis, in his Dictionary of Literary Biography essay, commented: "Walker writes best of the social and personal drama in the lives of familiar people who struggle for survival of self in hostile environments.

    Alice Walker — The Joy Harris Literary Agency, Inc.

    She has expressed a special concern with exploring the oppressions, the insanities, the loyalties and the triumph of black women. Gloria Steinem pointed out that Meridian, Walker's second novel, "is often cited as the best novel of the civil rights movement, and is taught as part of some American history as well as literature courses. Men in [ The Color Purple ] are generally pathetic, weak and stupid, when they are not heartlessly cruel, and the white race is universally bumbling and inept.

    Guy, for example, while conceding that "white men. In spite of the brutal effects of sexism and racism suffered by the characters of her short stories and novels, critics note what Art Seidenbaum of the Los Angeles Times called Walker's sense of "affirmation. Ford, for example, asserted that the author's "polemics on. He wrote: "[Walker's] story begins at about the point that most Greek tragedies reserve for the climax, then. Although "her original interests centered on black women, and especially on the ways they were abused or underrated," New York Times Book Review contributor Noel Perrin believed that "now those interests encompass all creation.

    Many of these treatments are personal in approach, and Jill Nelson found many of them trivial. Most of the time all Walker achieves is banality. The novel, featuring several of the characters of The Color Purple, reflects concerns hinted at in that novel and confronted directly in Living by the Word: racism, a reverence for nature, a search for spiritual truths, and the universality referred to by reviewers Nelson and Bell. But according to David Gates in his Newsweek review, the novel "is fatally ambitious.

    It encompasses , years, rewrites Genesis and the Beatitudes and weighs in with mini-lectures on everything from Elvis for to nuclear waste against. There are no characters, only types representative of the world Walker lives in or wishes could be. Novelist J. Coetzee, writing in the New York Times Book Review, implored the reader to look upon the novel as a "fable of recovered origins, as an exploration of the inner lives of contemporary black Americans as these are penetrated by fabulous stories," and Bernard W.

    Bell, writing in the Chicago Tribune, felt that the novel is a "colorful quilt of many patches," and that its "stylized lovers, remembrances of things past, bold flights of fantasy and vision of a brave new world of cultural diversity and cosmic harmony challenge the reader's willingness to suspend disbelief. The critic also felt that her portrait of the suffering of Tashi—a character from The Color Purple —is "stunning.

    Larson in the Washington Post Book World. And Donna Haisty Winchell wrote in her Dictionary of Literary Biography essay that Possessing the Secret of Joy is "much more concise, more controlled, and more successful as art" than The Temple of My Familiar and demonstrates an effective blend of "art and activism. According to a Publishers Weekly contributor, Warrior Marks is a "forceful account" of how the two filmed a documentary on the ritual circumcision of African women.

    The book focuses mainly on Walker's feelings about, and struggles with, the filming of The Color Purple. While having the book transformed into a film by Steven Spielberg was a high point in her life, it was also riddled with difficulties. First, Spielberg rejected Walker's screenplay of the book and implemented one with which Walker was not happy.

    In addition, the film itself was met with controversy and attacks on Walker's ideas—some people thought she had attacked the character of black people in general and black men specifically. Also at the time, Walker's mother was critically ill, while Walker herself was suffering from a debilitating illness that turned out to be Lyme disease. Included in the book are fan letters, reviews, and Walker's original version of the script.