Kristi Siegel's Reviews > The Help
The Help
by
by

The Kindle DX I ordered is galloping to the rescue today...

AND, for all the book purists (which would include me), this is a need, rather than a want. Post-several eye surgeries, I'm just plain sick of struggling to read the words on a page.
However, despite the visual challenges, I read all 451 pages of The Help yesterday. Clearly, the book held my interest. However, I spent last night pondering why the book wasn't as good as my nonstop reading would indicate.
What was wrong?
Most of all, I think it was the book's ambivalent tone. In brief, a white woman, Miss Skeeter Phelan--one of Jackson, Mississippi's socially elite--convinces a number of the African-American maids to tell her their story. What goes on in the homes of the upper crust? How do these women really treat their maids?
Though the book would be published anonymously and no locations would be given, the stories provide enough detail so that the premise (that the book could be received as being about Anywhere, USA) defies belief. Further, while having the book's source known might subject Skeeter to social ostracism, this is the 1960s in Missa-fuckin-sippi in the middle of the very tense civil rights' battles. For the maids, discovery would mean loss of a job (with no hope of getting another position) and retribution that could include being falsely accused of a crime (and jailed) or even being injured or killed.
Despite the underlying tension and references to violent events that do occur, the book teeters. At times, I was furious and in tears over the effing racism and the tragedies described. But Kathryn Stockett keeps pulling back. It's as though she wants it both ways. Let's divulge the incredible cruelty and violence that black people routinely endured, but let's also show the goodness of some white people and soft-pedal the whole thing into a broader theme, i.e., how difficult it is for two women in any unequal power situation to be "friends."
Nope. Sorry. You can't have it both ways. Though some of the women are kinder to their maids, they did not fight against the "separate but equal" indignities that included building a "nigra" toilet in their home or garage so that the maids' "nasty" germs would not infect them, the separate entrances, the substandard schools, the "justice" system that made a white accusation the same as proof, and on and on and on.
I don't want a book to make me cry and then pull back and say, "It's all right." It's not all right.
If you're going to write a book about this horrible time in our history - and in a country where racism is still alive and well - then do it all out. What these women endured deserves more. Don't put it out there and then pull back and use a Doris Day lens.
It doesn't work.

AND, for all the book purists (which would include me), this is a need, rather than a want. Post-several eye surgeries, I'm just plain sick of struggling to read the words on a page.
However, despite the visual challenges, I read all 451 pages of The Help yesterday. Clearly, the book held my interest. However, I spent last night pondering why the book wasn't as good as my nonstop reading would indicate.
What was wrong?
Most of all, I think it was the book's ambivalent tone. In brief, a white woman, Miss Skeeter Phelan--one of Jackson, Mississippi's socially elite--convinces a number of the African-American maids to tell her their story. What goes on in the homes of the upper crust? How do these women really treat their maids?
Though the book would be published anonymously and no locations would be given, the stories provide enough detail so that the premise (that the book could be received as being about Anywhere, USA) defies belief. Further, while having the book's source known might subject Skeeter to social ostracism, this is the 1960s in Missa-fuckin-sippi in the middle of the very tense civil rights' battles. For the maids, discovery would mean loss of a job (with no hope of getting another position) and retribution that could include being falsely accused of a crime (and jailed) or even being injured or killed.
Despite the underlying tension and references to violent events that do occur, the book teeters. At times, I was furious and in tears over the effing racism and the tragedies described. But Kathryn Stockett keeps pulling back. It's as though she wants it both ways. Let's divulge the incredible cruelty and violence that black people routinely endured, but let's also show the goodness of some white people and soft-pedal the whole thing into a broader theme, i.e., how difficult it is for two women in any unequal power situation to be "friends."
Nope. Sorry. You can't have it both ways. Though some of the women are kinder to their maids, they did not fight against the "separate but equal" indignities that included building a "nigra" toilet in their home or garage so that the maids' "nasty" germs would not infect them, the separate entrances, the substandard schools, the "justice" system that made a white accusation the same as proof, and on and on and on.
I don't want a book to make me cry and then pull back and say, "It's all right." It's not all right.
If you're going to write a book about this horrible time in our history - and in a country where racism is still alive and well - then do it all out. What these women endured deserves more. Don't put it out there and then pull back and use a Doris Day lens.
It doesn't work.
Sign into Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ to see if any of your friends have read
The Help.
Sign In »
Reading Progress
Comments Showing 1-50 of 53 (53 new)
message 1:
by
Lobstergirl
(new)
-
added it
Mar 15, 2010 06:01PM

reply
|
flag

...I figured you were kidding. No, I don't think you would like this one. It kept my interest while I was reading it, but it's not worth the kudos it's been receiving.

...I figured you were kidding. No, I don't think you would like this one. It kept my inter..."
Thanks for the warning, Ellen. This has had a lot of hype, and that always makes me suspicious. :-)



One should write about what they know; and I guess that is why a Mississippi writer is caught writing about her state and its people. I also feel that writing about ‘the help� in a 1962 setting will sell better if located in the Deep South. I mean put the story in Manhattan and see how it plays.
Most of the USA would forever like to direct attention to places like Mississippi when speaking of racism, squalor, poverty, poor education and illiteracy, etc.; but these things know no boundaries. Every place you go there will be these elements. Certainly the affluent in all places in previous American generations had servants� quarters, ‘domestics� had rules others did not have, and their employers ‘owned� them. This story is selling big in the Deep South because it is true; it stirs emotions everywhere because it is true everywhere.
Kathryn Stockett is off to a fabulous start. She has her first book accepted by Putnam, and it goes to the top of the charts. Then Steven Spielberg calls her up and wants to make a movie out of the book. How much fun is this girl able to bear?! I just hope that she continues to improve in her next book and does not go soft in all her good fortune.

You're absolutely right. I just knocked it down to 2 stars.

~~Melinda


It was the right thing to do :), and I'm normally a low rater.
Lisa wrote: "Melinda, No, we can't give zero stars. No stars means that a book is unrated. To trash a book give it one star and write a scathing review!"
That's really a bummer, Lisa. I wouldn't mind negative stars, in fact, which I would reserve for Bridges of Madison County.


I am sure. There are a whole bunch of threads about it over at the Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ Feedback group.
One star looks worse than a blank unrated situation, so you might want to give that hated book its one star.

:)


Well, the star system skews positive. Only one rating is truly negative: 1 star = didn't like it.
The remaining four stars are essentially positive:
2 stars = it was okay
3 stars = liked it
4 stars = really liked it
5 starts = it was amazing
I'd rather have a scale that was a little more balanced such as...
1 star = really sucked
2 stars = not very good
3 stars = it was average
4 stars = very good
5 stars - excellent
My average rating, 2.63, seems low but not in light of what the star rankings mean.


It is difficult, because ultimately, this book really repelled me, and the two star rating I gave it suggests that I thought it "was okay." It wasn't, but a 1 star is viewed as harsh.
I don't have a problem with the 5-star rating (I know some would prefer 10 stars) but I would like the definitions for the stars revised so that it is a more comprehensive scale.

Also, some members have their own definitions for each star rating posted on their profile page. As I get to know people here, I learn how they rate and can therefore better evaluate those ratings.

I see your point, Lisa, but I've often read books that I've found less than stellar. This book is a good case in point. I read it in an afternoon or so, and then couldn't stop thinking about why I found the book so unsatisfying and troubling.
Other times, I've read books that are getting a lot of attention. Good or bad, I tend to complete books. It's just a habit. So, from my standpoint, being able to distinguish a bit more among books that aren't wonderful would be helpful.

For me, not, but I know others feel as you do, Ellen.
That's what reviews are for. They're always so much more useful that star ratings, especially because different members have such different criteria for the way they use the star ratings.

For me, not, but I know others feel as you do, Ellen.
That's what r..."
I agree. We use the star rankings differently, but our judgment is evident in the reviews we write.



Most of all, I think it was the book's ambivalent tone."
I think the ambivalence you sensed reflects the ambivalence of the time... not the author's own ambivalence. I feel that the injustices and hypocrisy described in the book are too complex for the author to have written about in any other tone. It's not the way she wants it to be rather the way it was. Since I didn't live in Jackson during that era I cannot say for sure... but that was sense the book gave me. So pretty much the exact reason you did not like the book is the reason I, and probably many other people, thought it was excellent.
Nevertheless, I appreciated reading your review to consider a different perspective on the book.

Once again, nearly all the white people are lazy, cruel, selfish, and/or stupid, while the black people are loving, pleasant, and hard-working. Lordy, we bin down dis road befo. Think “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,� or, more recently, “The Secret Life of Bees.� Yes, we know black people had it hard before the civil rights movement took off (although they had more intact families and higher rates of literacy than they have now), but good heavens, if white people were so evil, they wou ...more Once again, nearly all the white people are lazy, cruel, selfish, and/or stupid, while the black people are loving, pleasant, and hard-working. Lordy, we bin down dis road befo. Think “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,� or, more recently, “The Secret Life of Bees.� Yes, we know black people had it hard before the civil rights movement took off (although they had more intact families and higher rates of literacy than they have now), but good heavens, if white people were so evil, they wouldn’t have bent over backwards to give black people their “rights.� (Think affirmative action, racial preferences, etc.) I sort of enjoyed the cultural references to life in the early sixties, but I sure got tired of feeling sorry for them po black folks.
When writers, like Stockett, perpetuate stereotypes and oversimplify a complex time period, they merely fuel racism, and fail to educate someone as racist as the reviewer above. The only ambivalence in this book was Stockett's dithering - she couldn't quite bring herself to acknowledge that there was real evil going on and instead resorted to framing the treatment African American domestics received as the kind of "difficulty" that always occurs when there are unequal power relationships. Sorry, but that doesn't cut it. Skeeter risked these women's lives.
Thank you for your comments, though. I hope I've clarified my position.

Reading this, I always felt there was something off about it. Like it was always attempting to reveal this horrible situation but at the last moment she would switch over to something light and airy, or simply unimportant in contrast. Ah, well.
Perhaps she was trying to avoid being too sensational?

Anyway, her help and sadness at the situation was not appreciated. Blacks did not need her. Blacks did not want her. She was part of the problem, not the solution. I think the girl made me think of Skeeter. Her help & support was not wanted, needed or appreciated by the maids. They too repeatedly distrusted her as a white woman and saw her as using them to further herself (when in fact I felt Skeeter was too trusting of them at times). I felt that their opinion of her and their willingness to talk really changed and stepped up a gear when they saw her being ostracised by The League. If they were a Venn Diagram, their circles were suddenly overlapping just a fraction!
I liked the speech about 'lines', the lines are in our heads. While in no way wanting to belittle the horrific plight of the black maids, there were many other 'lines' that had to be toed by white and black people alike While it may have been more fulfilling from a 2010 viewpoint to have had one of the League members stand up to Hilly and tell her where to shove her Nigra toilet, would that have happened, in a small town in the 60s? would a 60s housewife have crossed so many lines & stuck her own neck out? I doubt it. I did find it interesting that other big issues were just bubbling away: homophobia, sexism, socialism, even cross dressing... We have a fluffy nostalgia for the 60's but ultimately I think it must have been a suffocating era to have lived through. I think the author captured that atmosphere, while providing an engaging and enjoyable read in the process.

I was a young girl during that era, and there were many people who loved their "help," fed them, clothed them, and even bought them homes. Unfortunately, the system had been ingrained for many years before, and it was a process that took a long time to overcome.
We all like to think that we would have been the one to stand against the injustices of the time. Maybe you would have. But that is not something that you can know. You can only stand up for the injustices of today.


That is exactly what bothers me so much about this book! I, too, know educated white people from the south, and "y'all" is just the tip of the iceberg.

Victoria wrote: "I wonder why you would say any dialect is silly - do you just have trouble relating to it? We all speak with different voices and accents bu tI like to think that very often we are singing the sam..."
I know you weren't asking me, but I, too, was bothered by the dialect. I am almost always bothered by dialect unless the author is a "native speaker" (and thus entitled, I suppose) or unless it is terribly integral to the plot (think part of Cloud Atlas or Riddley Walker [not that I finished the latter--the dialect was still too annoying]). It makes a book difficult to read but not in a good, thought-provoking manner, and I always feel like it's a bit insulting to my intelligence: I can imagine that characters are talking in accents perfectly well, thank you, feel free to remind me as often as you like, but please don't literally spell it out and bog down my reading.
I know you weren't asking me, but I, too, was bothered by the dialect. I am almost always bothered by dialect unless the author is a "native speaker" (and thus entitled, I suppose) or unless it is terribly integral to the plot (think part of Cloud Atlas or Riddley Walker [not that I finished the latter--the dialect was still too annoying]). It makes a book difficult to read but not in a good, thought-provoking manner, and I always feel like it's a bit insulting to my intelligence: I can imagine that characters are talking in accents perfectly well, thank you, feel free to remind me as often as you like, but please don't literally spell it out and bog down my reading.



p.s. i get it if you are nervous that this is what is going out to the "greater" population. i have read a lot of books, stories, essay's, read about mlk and malcolm x and w.e.b., dubois, peanut man carver, etc. on african american history and experiences. i even took an incredible african american history series in college for a year, which just covered the tip of the iceberg. i did all this because one time when i was younger i read some book like this, or maybe like "the bluest eye" by toni morrison or i saw roots, and i was flabbergasted, i just couldn't believe it, i needed to learn as much as i could to understand how it happened in the first place, then how that crazy sh*t ever came to an end, then more to see that it's still happens, at times, in ways. so, i see both sides and this IS NOT educating me, it's a sweet, moving novel from a woman working out her south, her family, her "help," and all the ambivilence that has unmasked and probably made her question so many things.


Although I appreciate your opinion, I have to disagree on the premise of your dislike of this novel. Although I am a young Pacific Northwestern girl who has never set foot in the South, I think I understand the dynamic that Stockett is trying to replicate in her novel: the dichotemy of the loving relationship between the help and the white children, and the relationship between the help and the white families they work for. the issue at hand, I think, that is being discussed, is not simply the issue of slavery in 1960s Southern towns; the issue is the startling and disturbing irony of the power shift starting from the love between white babies and colored help that reverses itself when those babies become the cruel "owners" of the colored women who raised them. It would be impossible to portray this disturbing shift without detailing both the good and the bad of colored help in the 1960s.
Stockett, in my opinion, uses the switches between loving, heartwarming moments between tolerant white children (or Skeeter, in some instances) and the cruelty of white men & women to the same colored women who raise their babies and keep their lives running smoothly, in order to portray the bitter irony surrounding the equality movements during this time. I think this thesis is further supported by Stockett's use of historical contexts (noting grandparents or parents of colored narrators that have lived in full-out slavery and comparing them to the in-between stage of slavery & freedom that the novel is staged in), references made to the "kind" actions white women do, while they let the help fall by the wayside, and lastly, by the portrayal of white babies growing up to be just as bad as (or worse than) their mothers, even when they were raised nearly solely by colored women.
I don't believe that all books about slavery or African-American civil rights have to be gloom & doom 24/4. I think that Stockett's addition of heartwarming bits adds to the strength of the rhetoric going on inbetween the lines of the narrative.
I hope that clarifies what I belive to be the "point" of the book. If you can agree that the book aims to talk about that, I think that you can see how it's a good read.
Stockett, in my opinion, uses the switches between loving, heartwarming moments between tolerant white children (or Skeeter, in some instances) and the cruelty of white men & women to the same colored women who raise their babies and keep their lives running smoothly, in order to portray the bitter irony surrounding the equality movements during this time. I think this thesis is further supported by Stockett's use of historical contexts (noting grandparents or parents of colored narrators that have lived in full-out slavery and comparing them to the in-between stage of slavery & freedom that the novel is staged in), references made to the "kind" actions white women do, while they let the help fall by the wayside, and lastly, by the portrayal of white babies growing up to be just as bad as (or worse than) their mothers, even when they were raised nearly solely by colored women.
I don't believe that all books about slavery or African-American civil rights have to be gloom & doom 24/4. I think that Stockett's addition of heartwarming bits adds to the strength of the rhetoric going on inbetween the lines of the narrative.
I hope that clarifies what I belive to be the "point" of the book. If you can agree that the book aims to talk about that, I think that you can see how it's a good read.

Some who bristle at the word "colored" also bristled at much in The Help. That both the book and the language may stem from innocence does not make their impact innocent. That is a distinction too few can comprehend.
Any reader can love a book, which is part of the contract when you purchase or borrow it. But to proselytize from condescension to those whose experience differs markedly--to that, no fan of The Help should feel entitled. Yet most seem to.
I am conscious of a degree of condescension in what I write here. I would apologize for it, but it stems from the frustration of being unable to share with folks of a like mind bafflement and contempt for the book without being subjected to lectures about what we have overlooked.

I think you have a lot to learn about the South, but also about many other "non-slavery" parts of the US. In the '60s there was no more slavery for the blacks in the Deep South than in Boston, Philly, Detroit, NYC, LA, or hundreds of other places throughout the USA. The KKK was a national movement that had been grand in the north as well as in the south, east and west; and was a dominant segment of the Democratic Party. You should educate yourself, for it would heighten your enjoyment of The Help, even more. Miss Stockett has merely written about her relationship; a marvelous telling IMHO. The backdrops of people at odds with their existence and conditions and societies make the reading that much more interesting.


Racism permeated the politics of the Democratic Party, but the KKK didn't "dominate" it. If it had, FDR would never have become a candidate, let alone president. JFK, a Catholic, wouldn't have had a prayer (pardon the pun). True, the KKK was extremely active in states like Indiana, but not quite "throughout" the North. The KKK and the White Citizens Councils controlled the black population in the South. While there was plenty of racism and oppression in the North (primarily coming from the police and business), it couldn't compare to the terror inflicted in the South. To make it all seem the same is to distort history. As for slavery, it still exists and in the early 1960s was alive and well in the South, disguised as "share cropping," something that never took hold in the North. To me, this is the sort of generalizing about black experience that makes "The Help" offensive.
