It's hard to write a book about slavery that strikes the balance between a realistic portrayal of the brutality of the institution and the resilience of the human spirit. I think Jesmyn Ward mastered it in this book. 

 

The violence of slavery—physical, emotional, and sexual—cannot be overstated (and should never be understated). For that reason, I was hesitant to read this book. As I work on decolonizing my bookshelves, I've been adding books that speak to the experience of being Black in America, and part of that is reading slavery narratives (both historical and fictional). These narratives are always heavy and never easy. But I keep reminding myself that if people experienced this violence, I have no excuse for not reading about it. 

 

That said, Let Us Descend is heavy, but artfully crafted and beautiful in its portrayal of the human spirit. The book follows Annis (nicknamed Arese by her mother) on her harrowing journey from the plantation on which she was born (the product of the slaveowner and one of his slaves) to another plantation to which she is sold and beyond. It starts with her close relationship with her loving mother and follows the other relationships Annis cultivates in spite of (and because of) her status as a slave. 

 

The relationships Annis develops—some more intimate/longer than others—form the heart of the novel and the life of our main character. Each relationship becomes a part of who Annis is. Along her journey, she becomes acquainted with several ancestral spirits, one in particular who has followed three generations of women in Annis's family line. 

 

Over the course of the novel, Annis fights to develop her own sense of self, which is especially difficult given that she lives within the confines of slavery. The result is a beautiful story woven with strings of loss, strength, love, grief, oppression, resilience and self-discovery. 

Let Us Descend is heartbreaking and also beautiful. I loved the imagery of birds and bees throughout and the element of magical realism with Annis’ ability to communicate with the spirits. 

Some of my favorite quotes: 
“It’s so beautiful I feel a turning in my chest, my heart a small bird stirring in its nest. For a moment, I don’t feel bound. I forget what holds me. But the ache of me, through wrist and hip and thigh, tunnels me back down into my body, along with this rope. I yank when we stop, pull the wire of it with my arms, just so it can beat back that beauty. I want it to turn my awe to bitter.”
“To feel the bees that I have come to think of as my own descend in the night to land on my wrists, my feet, and then alight back to their hive; this makes me wonder what bitter nectar they collect from me. This makes me wonder where they taking my sorrow. This makes me wonder if my sobbing is a soothing call to them, and why they the only witness to my grief.”

I chose Let Us Descend by Jesmyn Ward for my November 2023 Book of the Month pick. It is my second Jesmyn Ward book; I read Sing, Unburied, Sing a while back and loved it.

 

I had a lot of conflicting thoughts when reading Let Us Descend. Ward is an incredibly talented writer, and this book features many instances of her beautiful prose. I love the way she describes things—from the natural world to character descriptions, Let Us Descend is full of evocative word choices. On the other hand, the main character Annis and her central storyline felt flat to me. The story places a lot of emotional weight on Annis’s relationship with her mother and a fellow enslaved girl, but these relationships are hastily developed. Annis herself remains somewhat of a blank slate; I found the story’s side characters to be much more interesting.

 

In general, I liked the portions of the story in which Annis interacts with other people and disliked the portions that involved the spirit world. I’m not opposed to magical realism, but the fantasy elements in Let Us Descend really, really did not work for me. I cannot see what they contribute to Annis’s story or the thematic elements of the story as a whole. Naturally, the last part of the book, which follows Annis’s journey with the spirits, dragged for me. It felt like Ward used the last portion of the book as a personal emotional catharsis, and in the process lost sight of the story. 

 

You might like Let Us Descend if . . . 

·      You want to read an empowering magical realism story about slavery that draws upon Dante’s Inferno

·      You appreciate beautiful sentences

 

You might not like Let Us Descend if . . . 

·      You disliked unexplained magical elements

·      You want a book with a well-written main character and a tightly constructed plot 

·      You don’t want to read descriptions that border on body horror

 

Trinity by Zelda Lockhart. 

Similarities include:

·      Magical realism/Black Americans haunted by spirits

·      Lyrical writing

·      Thematic exploration of the power of maternal love and intergenerational strength

 

Key Differences include:

·      Trinity takes place in the twentieth century, Let Us Descend in the nineteenth

·      Trinity features three POVs, whereas Let Us Descend has one POV

 

this book was well-written, enjoyable even, but not necessarily one I’d rate highly or recommend, as it felt like it was missing something  

this book is more of a character study than a story, which I didn’t expect. Annis is an interesting, incredible woman, and I love her bi/pan existence- no unnecessary waffling about why she likes who she likes, just love of all shapes and kinds with multiple genders. platonic, romantic, etc. very refreshing, especially for a historical time period. The book is very very slow to start, and even slower to really move beyond just plain suffering and pain for Annis, but you come to love as care for her as the few events unfold. I do mean few events- this book bristles with emotion, but there is not a lot “happening”. I wasn’t opposed to that per se, but it took me a bit to stop going “so when does she do stuff ?”

the prose is lovely- it reminded me of reading their eyes were watching god. a treat for the eyes, with many phrases i turned over in my mind out of pure enjoyment. the author clearly dedicates a lot of time to style, even if it is at the expense of structure/pacing. 

the spiritual aspect of this book was oddly developed. there was so much teeming under the surface, but the parts we saw were rushed and half-explained. some of that could be attributed to the fact that as a slave, Annis has to rebuild her history and understanding of spirits from word of mouth info from her mother, and glimpses from the Water (?)— things are half-explained, because she is having to piece them together on her own. that being said, sometimes it just felt like the author wasn’t sure how to link all the pieces together and just kinda threw a spiritual universe in without thinking deeply on its structure. i often find that literary/speculative books struggle with the fantasy-adjacent aspects of their stories, because they don’t spend as much developing the world behind them. I think that is what is at play here 

as a result, the ending felt… disjointed. Annis goes from mostly confusion & fear in the face of spirits to being able to command and manipulate them over the span of a chapter or two, and it led to such a strange conclusion. Annis deserves peace and love, and i liked that aspect of it, but it felt like the author got tired of lead-up and just short-circuited Annis directly to it. i got to the last page and was like ? already ?

for that reason, this book is a 3.5 for me. very beautiful, sad, and profound, Annis was a heartfelt, incredible character, and the prose is lovely, but ultimately the lack of structure in some elements and rushed ending left me a bit dissatisfied. 

This book is arrestingly beautiful. It’s also brutal. In the words of Glennon Doyle Melton, from "Carry On, Warrior: Thoughts on Life Unarmed": “Life is brutal, but it’s also beautiful. Life is brutiful.” 

Jesmyn Ward’s latest novel is just that-- brutiful. It’s simultaneously a difficult and fast read; it oozes poetic language and magic realism. Each of the thirteen chapters reads like a short story within a larger narrative. 

Even though Let Us Descend is historical fiction and contains fantastical elements, it feels more real than most nonfiction narratives I’ve read about slavery in America. 

Annis is the child of an enslaved woman, whose mother descends from Africa, and her father is her “sire”-- the white man who owns her. His white children are her half-sisters. Annis’s mother teaches her from a young age that she, though born into slavery, is her own weapon. 

The spirits guiding Annis through rings of hell that mirror Dante’s inferno are both comforting and confusing to both the protagonist and the reader-- but maybe that’s the point. Annis’s path to survival is anything but clear, and it’s ultimately a journey she has to feel her way through on her own. 

Jesmyn Ward’s writing is one-of-a-kind, and the imagery and language presented here was often so poignant that I had to stop reading and just savor it (or allow myself to reflect on what happened for a period of time). When I first started reading, I’d read a chapter each night, then forcefully stop-- falling asleep while mulling over Annis’ fate and Ward’s language. This is a heavy novel, and it’s often hard to keep going. Though once I grew accustomed to this “brutiful” heaviness, I couldn’t put it down. 

As soon as I finished "Let Us Descend," I felt compelled to read it again-- to allow myself to savor the magically painted words once more. That said, many of the hardships presented here are tough to read once, let alone a second time. If it’s this hard to read it, what was it like for Ward to write it? I wonder if writing such a visceral novel is traumatic, cathartic, or both. And most importantly, how is it possible that millions of enslaved people experienced such daily abuse and somehow survived? Ward’s novel will make your heart ache for fictional Annis and the other (fictional) brave, captured people in her world, but it will also give you new, unflinching insight into the very real people and the very real atrocities they experienced at the hands of their captors. 

The fact that much of the novel takes place in and around New Orleans, made it hit closer to home for me. I’ve visited slave auction landmarks in the French Quarter and sugarcane plantations outside of the city, where I learned about the grueling harvests in the killer cane fields. The scenes Ward paints here allowed those inhumane, gruesome realities to come to life for me. As Ward so brutifully writes, “No life here, no soft touch but in recollection, recollection that floats high above the dreamers, churning with sorrow, with remembrance. It deepens in the quiet.” 

If I could, I would give this book 6 stars out of 5. This book is like none other, and everyone should read it. 

Beautifully written, just like Ward’s other novels. It didn’t grab me quite the same way, though— maybe because it covers a much longer timeframe than her other works? Or because the subject matter is so rough? Or because I read it so fast? Either way, I’ll definitely be rereading at some point— Ward’s writing is absolutely incredible and her stories stay with you. Amazing!