Heavy by Kiese Laymon | Book Review
Picking up Heavy, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I am an avid reader of the works of Black woman, and queer folks. I don’t reserve much space for literature written by cishet men, for a number of reasons. Their memoirs are often self-congratulatory, preachy — and tinged with a bit of misogynoir and homophobia. There’s nothing these men could tell me about that couldn’t be said better by femmes and queer folks.
However, I reserved my judgments, based on the fact that a majority of the rave reviews I saw were from Black woman. I’m so glad that I listened to Black woman.
Kiese Laymon grew up the child of very complicated single mother in Mississippi. Struggling with his weight since he was young, the ‘heaviness’ comes in reflecting on where he’s been.
He beautifully recounts conversations with his grandmother, the beauty of language, and the laughter and the tears they shared, whilst living in the deep South- even under the toughest circumstances.
“Ain’t nothing in the world worse than looking at your children drowning, knowing ain’t nothing you can do because you scared that if you get to trying to save them, they might see that you can’t swim either.”
His early school days are encapsulated through Jabari, who emanates pure joy. The way he twists words, and intertwines vernacular and plays with sentence structure, felt radical. Reminding us that “This that black abundance. Y’all don’t even know.”
But, what really bears the weight of this novel, is his relationship with his mother, who he writes to. So loving, yet so toxic and violent. She pushed him to read, and write, and revise, and study. As a political analyst she deeply understood the workings of the world around her and had a blueprint for how he could survive in this world as a Black man, and if he just followed her teachings, he would be okay. She also beat the f*ck out of him. And stole from him. And lied to him. But she loved him. And he loved her.
Kiese Laymon crafted a memoir that was 'heavy' in the best way. It's very rare that you see a Black man be this open, vulnerable, and honest. Honest, in a way that doesn't end with him reaching the peak of success. Honest with the relationships that have been broken, and the bruises that have been laid one on top of the other and not yet healed. He reflects on his relationships with Black woman, his father, teachers, and his own body.
"There can be not liberation when our most intimate relationships are built on-and really inflicted by-deception, abuse, misdirection, anti blackness, patriarchy, and bald-faced lies.”
With Heavy, Kiese Laymon did not pander. He did not give us a happy ending. He didn't provide us with the ultimate solution. What Heavy does demand is holding yourself accountable, being honest, loving honestly, and building a path toward healing by not hiding from the past.
