
This family is headed by Leonie, a mother at 17, hooked on drugs, married to a white man named Michael whose cousin killed her brother and who is himself completing a jail sentence. Jesmyn Ward’s gnarly, freighted novel is a portrait of a broken family living on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi. If this sounds apocalyptic, it’s representing the slow apocalypse being experienced by black America. Not much later he’ll be eating the goat’s liver in a plate full of gravy. Soon the youngster is throwing up in the grass. The smell “overwhelms like a faceful of pig shit”. There are terrible bleating and gurgling sounds.

His grandfather is showing him how to kill a goat: how to slit its throat, how to slice its stomach and reach in for its intestines.

A teenager named Jojo finds himself in a place of dirt and mud and slime and blood. S ing, Unburied, Sing begins as it mostly means to go on: in blackness.
