Sisterhood, The Height Of Bliss, Or The Extreme Of Misery.

Five books I'm willing to aggressively push on my sister until she reads them.

My 18-year-old baby sister is getting ready for university. She's saying goodbyes, picking halls and consuming books ferociously. I remember receiving my first reading list for my ancient literature lecture back in the year of our lord 1426, and I remember it looking not just daunting, but outright impossible to complete. Part of it was the Hungarian undergraduate system's fault – you see, if the requirements are literally impossible, a good proportion of people will fail, and if a good proportion of people fails, it makes the standards look high. Which they are not. But luckily, my sister will not going to immerse herself in the mythical chaos that is the Hungarian higher education, for she is setting sail towards the post of London. I'm beyond excited about her journey. In this humble list, I collected five books I dearly wish she'd have time to read before the fall. Some I've already gifted her, some I've been pestering her with, but I consider all essential for a young woman whose world just started opening up.

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde

Crossing Press

Reading landmark collections like this is one of the greatest joys of adult life. Part of this joy of learning comes from putting the pieces together, and gaining new insights into what race, class, sexuality and patriarchy mean, and part of it comes from watching a wonderful mind like Lorde challenge their corrupt web. It's a tremendous privilege to learn about something, instead of having to go through it day by day. Coming from a small and increasingly hellish Eastern European country, for us books and the internet are crucial tools to gain more understanding about the state of entrenched institutional racism plaguing the Americas or the UK, because our government are in favour of supporting both the oppression and the ignorance. The piece opening the volume is of special interest to us. Notes from a Trip to Russia reads like a travelogue and provides wonderful insight into a black woman's experiences of the Eastern Bloc.

“He pondered that a little while and then he asked, do Black people have to pay for their doctors, too? Because that’s what TV programs had said. I smiled a little at this and told him it’s not only Black people who have to pay for doctors and medical care; all people in America have to. Ah, he said. And suppose you don’t have the money to pay? Well, I said, if you don’t have the money to pay, sometimes you died. And there was no mistaking my gesture, even though he had to wait for the translator to translate it. We left him looking absolutely nonplussed, standing in the middle of the square with his mouth open and his hand under his chin staring after me, as in utter amazement that human beings could die from lack of medical care. It’s things like that that keep me dreaming about Russia long after I’ve returned.”

Lorde observes how basic necessities like bread or healthcare are way more easily accessible to the public, than it is for marginalised communities in the US. Polish journalist and traveller Ryszard Kapuściński explained this entitlement when he argued that Russians took things like free healthcare for granted because the empire was built on the cost of their lives, comfort and safety. Which is exactly what happened to the Black population of the United States. It's high-time for their entitlement for safety and happiness to come.

Insights like this is why it's such a revelation to read these essays. In his paper, Kristóf Nagy writes that "the 1960s and 1970s witnessed a wave of black insurgencies in both the First and the Third Worlds and saw the emergence of several revolutionary iconic figures, such as Patrice Lumumba, Malcolm X, and Angela Davis. Their struggles were strongly supported by the Eastern European state-socialist regimes, and the iconic leaders of these movements also had a powerful presence in the popular imagination of Eastern European societies." My mother remembers a time when in the early 80's Angel Davis visited Budapest, and they all scrambled to see her and buy translated books about both her and the Black Panther Party. This is a topic I'm definitely planning to read more in the future.

The Blood Never Dried: A People's History of the British Empire by John Newsinger

Trentham Books

I wasn't going to include this book in my list, until a Saturday morning online encounter with an adult person who seriously didn't understand what the British Royal Family has to do with looting, plundering and generally enriching oneself by means of exploiting others. As I proceeded to provide some links to some reading material, the person retorted by flaunting their pride in their ignorance. The fact, that one is ignorant about the crimes of the British establishment already shows the amount of privilege one is insulated by. This volume is an entry-level text to British colonialism, but it does have enough information to outline some of the sinister connections between Britain and her past.

One such thing is written about in detail in David Olusoga's Black and British. He carefully unwinds how in 1772 the ambiguous judgement of William Murray, 1st Earl of Mansfield, Lord Chief Justice made it illegal to transport enslaved persons out of England and Wales, but left the trade otherwise flourishing. The judgement appeared to be freeing enslaved people on British soil, and indeed many thought it did. Yet, Mansfield was also the one arranging for the bail of Henry Laurens, American slave trader and political leader. Throughout his legal troubles, Laurens was assisted by his business partner, Richard Oswald, British slave trader and principal owner of the Sierra Leone Bunce Island slave fort, a complex that actually had a built-in rape house. Yes, you read that correctly. Another illuminating connection, that brings the Somerset case and Richard Oswald to our time is through British Prime Minister William Gladstone, whose maiden speech was about the rights of West Indian slave-owning planters. One of whom was his father. When slavery was abolished in Briatin, "he received £106,769 (modern equivalent £83m) for the 2,508 slaves he owned across nine plantations. His son, who served as prime minister four times during his 60-year career, was heavily involved in his father's claim." This is the man whom in a 1999 speech Tony Blair named as one of his political heroes.

Two Cures for Love by Wendy Cope

Faber Faber

I love Wendy Cope's poetry because she is capable of intelligent parody that retains a great deal of meaning. Or because I'm generally into acidic wit utilised for the right reasons. It's the kind of witty artistry one sees in the letters of French salon hostesses or indeed in the works of Jane Austen and Dorothy Parker. Cope reaches oddly deep spots with a precise pen and stays wildly funny at other times. This collection can be of great use for a young woman.

Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot by Mikki Kendall

Similarly to The Blood Never Dried this one is a wonderful entry-level read into an otherwise complex and much written-about topic, that makes it ideal for younger readers. I strongly encourage every white woman regardless of age and background knowledge to give it a go. It's not compulsory to reed this book, or any other one, but it is compulsory to learn and be better allies and better feminists. Mainstream feminism has failed to address issues like public safety, housing, food insecurity and education and provides no solutions to problems that arise at the intersection of race, class, sexuality and ability. A recent Hungarian example I discussed with my sister was the case of low-income Romani children falling out of remote education because of the lack of technological devices, food and parental guidance. During the virus lockdown in Hungary, glaring issues like this went virtually unnoticed while middle-class white women produced a tirade of articles abut how difficult it is to be inside their nicely furnished apartments for six weeks supported by a steady income. If you are inclined you can donate to organisations working with Romani children here, here and here.

Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams

Scout Press

A colleague described this book to me as "Bridget Jones meets Americanah" shortly after its publication, and I agree in that this book occupies a strange place between visceral comedy and poignant, politically charged prose. It's experimental and it trips over itself sometimes, but the direction it aims is important: to allow a black female character to make mistakes – just as so many white fictional women do – and form flawed decisions without fearing repercussions that impact the whole community. Making mistakes in the real world is not the same as in fiction. Queenie's mistakes were written to be read. A real-life Jamaican-British woman's flaws were not. Reading about a fictional character's flaws help us explore our own failings, insecurities and uncertainties, that's why fiction is full of unhealthy relationships, wrong decisions and drama. There is definitely a line between glorifying or advertising these and genuine literary exploration, but I believe Queenie falls into the latter category.

Bibliography

Manning, S. (2013). Britain's colonial shame: Slave-owners given huge payouts after abolition. Indpendent. Available at: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/britains-colonial-shame-slave-owners-given-huge-payouts-after-abolition-8508358.html [Accessed 6 June. 2020].

Nagy, K. (2016). Angela Davis goes east? White skin and black masks in the art of socialist Hungary. World Literature Studes, 4(8), pp. 77-94. Available at: http://www.wls.sav.sk/wp-content/uploads/07-Nagy-compressed.pdf [Accessed 6 June 2019].

Olusoga, D. (2016). Black and British, A Forgotten History. London: Macmillan.