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Passing
Passing
Passing
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Passing

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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Generally regarded as Nella Larsen's best work, Passing was first published in 1929 but has received a lot of renewed attention because of its close examination of racial and sexual ambiguities. It has achieved canonical status in many American universities.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 29, 2013
ISBN9781627931243
Author

Nella Larsen

Nella Larsen (1891–1964) was an author, nurse, and librarian best known for her contributions to the Harlem Renaissance. Born to a Danish mother and Afro-Caribbean father in South Chicago, Larsen's life would be seemingly marked by her mixed-race heritage. Too Black for white spaces and not quite Black enough for Black spaces, Larsen would find herself constantly at odds in terms of her identity and belonging. First after the death of her biological father, where she would see her mother be remarried to a white man, have a white half-sibling and move to a mostly white neighborhood; next when she would seek a higher education at Fisk University, a historically Black college where she was unable to relate to the experience of her Black peers, and finally in her adult life in New York where she faced difficulties both professionally and socially. In 1914, Larsen would enroll at a nursing school that was heavily segregated and while working as a nurse two years later was employed in mostly white neighborhoods. She would marry Elmer Imes, the second African American to earn a PhD in psychics, in 1919 which–in addition to the couple's move to Harlem–introduced her to the Black professional class; however still, Larsen's near-European ancestry and lack of a formal degree alienated her from Black contemporaries of the times such as Langston Hughes, W. E. B. Du Bois, and James Weldon Johnson. Larsen would begin to pursue a career as a librarian in 1921, becoming the first Black woman to graduate from the New York Public Library's library school and would help with integration efforts within the branches. Her work in libraries would lead her to the literary circles of Harlem and in 1925 she would begin work on Quicksand, her semi-autobiographical debut novel. Published in 1928 to critical and financial success, Larsen would continue to make waves when just one year later, she published her sophomore novel, Passing. The success of her novels as well as her 1930 short story, "Sanctuary," led her to become the first African American woman to receive a Guggenheim Fellowship, which she used to travel through Europe in the wake of her divorce in 1933. Little is known about Larsen's life after she returned to the U.S. in 1937, other than she had returned to nursing, disappeared from the literary world and may have suffered from intense depression. There was some speculation that like the characters in her books, Larsen had elected to pass into the white community given how difficult it was for single women of color to achieve financial independence, but to this day there is no evidence supporting or disproving the claim. While she died alone at the age of seventy-two, Larsen's work cemented her legacy as an important voice in the Harlem Renaissance–one that represented the struggles of identity and culture that befell mixed-raced people of the time.

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Rating: 3.841145771180556 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The number of commas renders some of the sentences stilted, so the writing is a bit off-putting. The characters of Irene and Clare, two mixed-race women who pass for different reasons and once childhood acquaintances, meet as adults. One selfish and self-centered, heedless of the harm she causes, the other self-sacrificing and jealous and only too aware of "doing the right thing." An unreliable narrator and the question of passing drives the story, but the personalities of the two women, so different but the same creates the tension and the ambiguous end.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I've gotten to the point in my reading life where I can frequently predict what's going to happen in a book. Whether it's a result of reading so voraciously for so many years or from my knowledge of story structure, themes or being able to interpret subtext and recognize foreshadowing, I'm not sure. Of course, I'm not always right, but my batting average is pretty darn good. That's why books that surprise me in some what always end up as favorites. The ending of Passing surprised me, though it probably shouldn't have.

    Larsen pulls off a neat trick by making the reader believe this book is about blacks passing as whites and the pull black culture retains over those who "pass." It is a thematic red herring. What this book is really about is one woman's determination to preserve her way of life, social standing and family. Irene is a wonderfully complex character who was alternately sympathetic and a little scary in her single-minded pursuit of her own will.

    Great book. Recommended.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Got totally caught up in the central conflict, was not expecting the resolution. The intro in the Penguin Classics edition was so bad, full of spoilers and academese, that I put it down for six years before restarting it.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A short novel about a woman who crossed the color line in 1920s New York/Chicago. After her parents' deaths, teen Clare was sent to love with her elderly white aunts in New York. And with that, she successfully crossed the color line, marrying a wealthy white businessman.But that meant she could not go back to Chicago, and had to let those friends go. And her husband teases her for how dark she gets in the sun. They have a daughter, Clare is beautiful, but when she runs into her childhood friend Irene some 20 years later, she admits she misses the culture she grew up in and the people she grew up with, despite wondering why more don't cross just for the convenience.But she is playing with fire. Visiting Irene and another friend or two, making new friends, attending events in Harlem. She must know this won't end well--Irene is worried.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This rather slim book packs a punch. Read The Vanishing Half awhile ago which made me think deeper about the act of "passing" and how that would play out through a persons life. Highly recommend both books
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This short classic, set in New York City, was originally published in 1929 during the Harlem Renaissance. It examined the phenomenon of “passing” – a black person acting as a white person. Of course, the American context has changed significantly since 1929. The concept of race is now, thankfully, widely considered a social construct, without any biological merit. The concept of passing, though still present on occasion, is less of an issue.Nonetheless, Larsen gives us insight into how a culture obsessed with race, as early twentieth-century America was, can sometimes devolve into strange scenarios. In this particular scenario, Irene Redfield lives a comfortable life in Harlem with her physician-husband and children. Notably, she has light skin, but lives as an African American. She becomes reacquainted with a childhood friend Claire Bellew/Kendry. Claire, likewise, has light skin, but effectively “passes” as a white woman with a white husband. Even Claire’s husband does not know of her black lineage.By resuming a loose friendship with Irene, Claire realizes a spiritual longing for the black community in Harlem. Perhaps this is innate, due to her upbringing; perhaps this stems from living some kind of inauthentic existence. Nonetheless, Claire begins to spend time secretly with Irene whenever Claire’s husband is out of town on business. The husband, however, is openly racist and routinely uses the n-word. The obvious instability in this scenario ends up playing out in a shocking manner.In a post-George Floyd era, this book addresses timely issues such as how race affects how we interact in the world. Race in 1920s America is different than race in the 2020s, granted, but we aren’t so far as to be fully colorblind. To cite Cornel West, race still matters. Thus, contemporary readers should not treat this classic as a mere relic of the past.Should people be made to feel ashamed of their race? Is it all about how one presents one’s self? What role does authenticity have to play with the construct of race? This book’s style is easily accessible by many, even youth (though it does contain the n-word). At around 150 pages, it doesn’t take long to read either. In perusing it, perhaps we will find out that the world of the 1920s isn’t all that much different from today’s inequities.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Intriguing Portraits in PassingReview of the Penguin Vitae hardcover edition (2017) of the 1929 original.Nella Larsen (1891-1964) was a Harlem Renaissance author who published only two novels, Quicksand (1928) and Passing (1929) before she completely disassociated from writing and spent the rest of her life working as a nurse. This superb new edition from Penguin Vitae includes a thorough 30 page introduction by Emily Bernard and 8 pages of excellent Explanatory Notes by Thaddeus M. Davis.Passing is somewhat of a cat and mouse intrigue between two light-skinned African American women. Clare Kendry is passing for white, even though she is married to a virulently racist White American. Irene Redfield, although she could have passed, has stuck by her African American heritage and community. Kendry now regrets what she has left behind and begins to insinuate herself back into Redfield's life after a chance re-meeting (they had known each other as children) with eventual tragic consequences.I read Passing as part of my subscription to the inaugural 2020 Shakespeare and Company Lost Treasures curated selection. 4 books of the expected 12 have been delivered as of March 2020.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    One of the great things about reading from the 1,001 Books to Read Before You Die List is that I have been introduced to many writers that I had not experienced before. Such is the case with Passing by Nella Larsen. This is the story of two American women in the 1920s with a similar background who chose very different ways to live.Both women are very light skinned black women and while Irene is a respected member of the Black community, married to a black doctor and allowing herself to “pass” for white only occasionally, Clare actually lives the life of a white woman, completely denying her black heritage and even hiding her race from her rich, white and bigoted husband. But Clare seemingly desires some contact with the black community and latches onto Irene in order to attend various black social functions. Irene has mixed feelings about Clare, she doesn’t approve of her life choices yet she does her best to protect her secret. Her feelings become even more challenged when she realizes that her husband and Clare are having an affair.I found Passing to be a very interesting story. Nella Larsen herself was of mixed heritage, her mother was Danish and her father a black American. Racial segregation laws were in force until the 1960s and some light-skinned blacks used “passing” in order to obtain equal opportunities and rights, social standing and acceptance. It is unfortunate that Nella Larsen only wrote one other book, but I will be reading that in the near future.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Irene Redfield is doing some shopping while on a trip to Chicago, when she stops for a brief rest and some tea at an elegant hotel’s restaurant. She notices a woman at a nearby table keeps staring at her and she’s immediately concerned. Could the woman have somehow discerned that Irene is not white, but a Negro? Larsen was part of the Harlem Renaissance and this book is a marvel of social commentary. In this slim volume Larsen explores issues of black/white identity, of the desire to get ahead and the societal obstacles to that path, of male/female relationships, and female-female rivalries. There is tension, fear, anger, joy, desire and hope. We get a wonderful glimpse of middle-class Black culture in 1920s Harlem. And that ending! My F2F book club had a stimulating discussion.A word of caution re the introduction: Definitely read the introduction, which will give you much insight into the book, the author’s background, and the critical thoughts of various experts. BUT … read the book FIRST, as the introduction will contain major spoilers for what happens in the novel.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Melodramatic and overwrought prose by today's standards, but still revealing of race relations of its time (1920s). A rather shocking ending...was not expecting that at all!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A very quick and easy read that must have been quite controversial when it was written. Passing is the story of two black women who are so light skinned they can pass for white. One is married to a black man, the other who is married to a white man who does not know that she has"negro blood."
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This was a very interesting, enjoyable read. Even though it was written in 1929, the book is very relevant to present day also. The characters are well developed and the author's writing is such that you are drawn to loathe some of their behavior. I did not expect the ending and was very surprised. I would recommend this book to everyone and I look forward to reading more of Larsen's work.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Passing is an unusual novella about the lives of upper-crust African-American Harlemites in the 1920's.Light-skinned Irene Redfield and her darker husband Brian, a successful but unhappy doctor, have a very comfortable lifestyle at the top of their social set. But Irene's security and tranquility (two things that are very important to her) are badly shaken when her beautiful, reckless childhood friend Clare comes into the picture. For years, Clare has passed for white, and has even married and had a child with a virulent racist (Clare's husband calls her "Nig", not exactly as an endearment, but apparently he has no clue about her origins). Yet Clare misses her people, and her insistence on straddling the line between black and white ultimately leads to tragedy. My copy of Passing (from Dover Publications) is only 94 pages long, but it took me a week to finish it. The period slang and dense descriptions of emotional states make it slow going at times. Nonetheless, the novel provides interesting insights into female friendship and race relations in the age of the "one drop" rule.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The second novella from Nella Larsen, lost writer of the Harlem Renaissance. In this book, Irene reconnects with her childhood friend Clare, who is passing for white in a marriage with a typical white racist of the Jazz Era. Irene's physician husband Brian wants to leave the US for Brazil, where he is convinced that their sons will be able to avoid a childhood of suffering from extreme racism. Irene, however, is a "race woman" who is very comfortable in her middle class Harlem life and is a control freak to boot, keeping her husband and boys in line. Clare, a "sheba", is a symbol of all that is free and wild and there is an underlying sexual tension between the women that Irene greatly fears. In fact, under her staid life, Irene is the sum of many fears, and Clare ends up suffering for them. I loved this book and thought that Larsen did an amazing job voicing Irene's inner thoughts. Wow, would this make a movie, comparable to "Their Eyes Were Watching God".
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Page turner! The end leaves you wondering why?
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A great look into the world of passing as it existed in the 1920's.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Nella Larson's Passing is one of the key novels of the Harlem Renaissance, written in a restless and apprehensive prose that is more than a little gothic. A solid example of the psychological novel, the book is of great interests to scholars of Black Criticism for its articulations of race, and also to feminist theory for its questions about gender roles and motherhood. I read this book for an LGBT Literature class, and the application of queer theory here poses the question, "Is Passing passing as a novel about passing?" Is there a subtext of same sex attraction here that is taken out of focus by the novel's strong emphasis on race?I think all of the possible theoretical queries that the novel invites us to pursue our worth considering, but the plot's penchant for mystery and the necessity of reader inference into details make all but the most obvious questions challenging.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I keep waffling between 3 and 4 stars. There were moments of brilliance when I just wanted to run up to someone and shove the pages of this book in their face. "Read this! Read this!" I wanted to blurt out at the person closest to me. But, then the story got predictable real fast. I sometimes have little patience for characters who do painfully stupid things.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Written in 1929 during the Harlem Renaissance, Passing by Nella Larsen tells the story of two biracial and light-skinned black women who can pass as white. One, Clare, has married a racist white man who is completely unaware of her past and her identity. Irene, the other, has married a black physician and has no real wish to pass. However when she is tired after a shopping trip, she stops for tea at a whites only tea room where the two women encounter each other. They had grown up in the same neighbourhood but haven’t seen each other since childhood until this meeting. The encounter will lead to unexpected and eventually tragic consequences for both women.Passing is a very short book that packs a huge wallop. It is an intriguing, surprisingly suspenseful, and very insightful book about racial identity and attitudes that still resonates today. There is also an exploration of the tensions that develop between women, between the sexes, and between classes. Irene acts as narrator albeit an untrustworthy one adding a layer of ambiguity to the story and this ambiguity is nowhere more evident than at the end, one that was completely unexpected at least by me. This is not an easy or even a comfortable read but it is an important one and I recommend it highly.Thanks to Edelweiss+ and Restless Books for the opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Great book, quick read. Passing is the story of two women who are black and grew up as childhood friends in Chicago. It was published in 1929 and is set in Harlem Renaissance period, a period covering from 1918 to 1930 and is a time period of black culture/art. It did not just occur in Harlem New York but that might be the largest setting. This is a story of race and choices. One girl chose to escape her culture and married a white man and did not tell him. The other girl, Irene, married within her race and it is her story as well. There is a third choice but that girl only has a small part in the book. She married white but he knew she was black. That is just one layer of this great book. Passing is not the first book to be written about Passing; not the first book to examine Passing, The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man,The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson, The Father of Désirée's Baby, The Garies and Their Friends but this book does offer a inventive approach and fresh ideas to the topic, showing how even though one married black and lived as black she was still creating her own fiction. The story is great with an interesting conclusion. I guess I didn't see that coming but when it was done, I also was not surprised. And the ending remains ambiguous, IMO. The characters are great. It is highly readable. Achievement: 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die (2006/2008/2010/2012 Edition), Guardian 1000 (State of the nation), 500 Great Books by Women (Choices), David Bowie's Top 100 (1929). The book is told from Irene's POV and some is her stream of conscious and some her interactions.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Nella Larsen’s use of color in “Passing” is apropos since it’s a story about different women who can racially pass as white and the attendant problems of identity within different social circles. It’s also the first time the two main characters have met in years. The idea of passing could also refer to marital infidelity or transitory relationships or, simply, the brief glimpse a person may get of themselves —that moment of stark lucidity before the mirror. There’s a lot going on here. But the author’s use of color is as beautiful, original and evocative as it is pervasive. “Brilliant red patches flamed in Irene Redfield’s warm olive cheeks.” “A waiter passed her, followed by a sweetly scented woman in a fluttering dress of green chiffon whose mingled pattern of narcissuses, jonquils, and hyacinths was a reminder of pleasantly chill spring days.”“Irene watched her spread out her napkin, saw the silver spoon in the white hand slit the dull gold of the melon.”“Entering, Irene found herself in a sitting room, large and high, at whose windows hung startling blue draperies which triumphantly dragged attention from the gloomy chocolate-colored furniture. And Clare was wearing a thin floating dress of the same shade of blue, which suited her and the rather difficult room to perfection.”“A pale rose color came into Clare’s ivory cheeks.”“Clare, exquisite, golden, fragrant, in a stately gown of shining black taffeta, whose long, full skirt lay in graceful folds about her slim golden feet; her glistening hair drawn smoothly back into a small twist at the nape of her neck; her eyes sparkling like dark jewels. Irene, with her new rose-colored chiffon frock ending at the knees, and her cropped curls, felt dowdy and commonplace.”“Clare fair and golden, like a sunlit day. Hazelton dark, with gleaming eyes, like a moonlit night.”“Irene couldn’t remember ever having seen her look better. She was wearing a superlatively simple cinnamon-brown frock which brought out all her vivid beauty, and a little golden bowl of a hat. Around her neck hung a string of amber beads that would easily have made six or eight like one Irene owned. Yes, she was stunning.”“The day was an exceptionally cold one, with a strong wind that had whipped a dusky red into Felise’s smooth golden cheeks and driven moisture into Irene’s soft brown eyes.”OK, so I know that’s a lot to drop in an FB post, but that’s the power color has in this book. It’s a cumulative power. And all that paint builds up like impasto and makes you aware of each individual line in the brush strokes. The pain, the jealousy, the struggles, the frustration, the awe, the heartbreak—it’s all in there. Layers upon layers of gorgeously tormented meetings in the passing between humans. From race to race, sex to sex, social class to class, we all leave our thick lines in the paint. Will it compliment or contrast our idea of our own existence when we see it—when we happen upon that glimpse in the passing?“Her whole body went taut. In that second she saw that she could bear anything, but only if no one knew that she had anything to bear. It hurt. It frightened her, but she could bear it.”Goddamnit, Nella Larsen. You wrote a book that will have a far greater effect on me than the title would otherwise suggest.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    ‘Passing’ is a novella on race relations, written and set during the period of the ‘Harlem Renaissance’ of the 1920’s, with some historical significance. 60 years after emancipation, 40 years before the Civil Rights Act, and 50 more beyond that to the present day, where race is still a major problem in America, this represents a time slice in a particular place and cultural segment that Nella Larsen was familiar with first-hand.For the most part in this story, there is peaceful coexistence between races. It’s not a horror story with overt violence. There are some people who are deemed ‘black’ because of some fractional African-American heritage who ‘pass’ as white either permanently, or selectively in some situations. There are society events in Harlem attended by whites either out of interest in the culture (in vogue at the time), or their attraction to African-Americans, and these are harmonious. And there are African-Americans who can’t ‘pass’ who likely run into racism in their lives routinely – but this is not their story, and those events are untold. However, there is one glaring exception – one of the white men who has married a woman who has ‘passed’ (and never told him of her ancestry) is a blatant racist, and at one point he spews his venom in front of her and two others who ‘pass’, without realizing the company he’s in. His tone is not only insulting but murderous. There is therefore an undercurrent of danger in ‘passing’, which ranges from small but humiliating things like being escorted out of a restaurant in front of everyone if detected, to larger things like the annulment of a marriage, or violence. Detection could come from memories of the past, the company one kept, or, if having a child, ‘surprise’ racial characteristics in the baby. There is also an undercurrent of guilt. To what lengths would one go to escape ‘blackness’ in a world filled with racism, where social progress was measured by economic and cultural advancement? What price would be paid by rejecting a portion of one’s ancestry? How could one rationalize and come to terms with wanting children who were “less dark”?Without explicitly asking it, the novella also begs the question, what does it mean to be ‘black’? For it’s odd that those who were 1/4 black and who appeared white would even be considered ‘black’. It was as if any percentage of ‘black blood’ tainted someone, and indeed, the Plessy vs. Ferguson case resulting in the ‘separate but equal’ ruling was pursued by Homer Plessy, who was 1/8 black and denied rights and legal privileges as a result. Aside from the obvious wrongs of racism and segregation, the need to categorize ‘mixed-race’ people to begin with, and then to deem them all black regardless of appearance or the majority of their racial make-up, are additional wrongs – though no one (white or black) in the novella questions this, and in fact, they prefer to know and to ‘bin’ people as one or the other. Larsen herself was acutely aware of this, being herself the daughter of a mixed-race father from the Danish West Indies, and a white mother from Denmark. When her father died when she was young and her mother remarried a white man (and had a white daughter by him), Larsen was the lone ‘colored’ member of the family, and in an ambiguous situation with both white and African-American communities. Anyway, that’s the backdrop and part of what makes it interesting, on top of the questions it raises and the period it represents. However, the writing is only so-so, and the plot line involving infidelity is weak; hence, my somewhat average review score.Just these quotes, the first, on religion:“’Have you ever stopped to think, Clare,’ Irene demanded, ‘how much unhappiness and downright cruelty are laid to the loving-kindness of the Lord? And always by His most ardent followers, it seems.’”And:“’Well, Hugh does think he’s God, you know.’‘That,’ Irene declared, getting out of bed, ‘is absolutely not true. He thinks ever so much better of himself than that, as you, who know and have read him, ought to be able to guess. If you remember what a low opinion he has of God, you won’t make such a silly mistake.’”Lastly, a note on the random connection discovered to the book I read previously, which was McSweeney’s Mammoth Treasury of Thrilling Tales – the characterization early on of Clare Kendry as “Catlike. Certainly that was the word which best described Clare Kendry, if any single word could describe her.” – reminding me of the cats and “Their movements were catlike, or perhaps clockwork”, in the story Catskin, by Kelly Link.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Written in 1929 Larsen conveys the thoughts and feelings as well as the turmoil and animosity toward African Americans that were prevalent to the times.Irene is a light skinned negro who at many times can pass for a white person, provided she is not with people of her own race. It is on one of these such days that she takes tea by herself and finds a woman staring at her. Who she comes to find out is a friend from her past, also very light skinned. This woman, Clare, invites Irene to come to her home for a small party one night and after much hesitation she accepts. Here Irene, Clare, and Gertrude (another light skinned negro whom they both grew up with) enjoy each others’ company until Clare’s husband comes home. He is white and extremely racist and has no idea his wife is part negro.This novella is about how Clare and Irene find their own identity apart from what has been branded on them. As much as it is about them finding their own identity it also deals with how the rest of the world sees them.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Once again Nella Larsen manages to combine a great deal in a few pages. The title of this novella is Passing, and there's more than one person doing it. Clara, the beautiful blond mixed race daughter of a janitor, is the main person passing; but Irene the security hungry wife and Brian her supercilious husband do their share. Larsen was such an astute observer of humanity, I want to credit some of that to her background as a nurse. Literature would have benefited if she had written more.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This brilliant novella was written in 1929 by a belle of the Harlem Renaissance who is all but forgotten today. It tells the story of race in America by way of two successful African American women: one who chooses to “pass” as white and the other who doesn’t. The story comes to us by way of the arrogant, then conflicted and finally terrified primary character Irene as she works through her relationship with the beautiful, flamboyant and “having” Clara. Both women are driven by their personal powers, their desires and their insecurities, but their struggles take different routes and are tangled together in unexpected ways. The novella offers psychological depth in the tradition of Virginia Woolf, although its story line is more directed and more accessible. I found it fascinating, both from a historical point of view and a personal one. The insights about race are still relevant today, but even without race as a pivot, the tale of choices made and paid for will resonate with many readers. It certainly did with me.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I found this to be a beautifully drawn character study. It is the story of two girls who were childhood friends but lose touch with each other as they grow up. Both of them biracial, they end up settled in New York. One married to a man of color with 2 children, 1 light skinned and 1 dark skinned and the other married to a very prejudicial white skinned man with 1 light skinned child. This is a very fortunate turn of events for her as she has not informed her husband she is part black. She has been "passing" all this time.The two ladies meet accidentally one day while having tea at a rooftop cafe. They reacquaint themselves with each other and begin to meet socially. As time goes on the one "passing" becomes more and more brave about her lifestyle and begins to yearn for the life of the Harlem Renaissance. She gets careless about where she goes and the company she keeps. What occurs next this is a shocking turn of events.I found this book to be very intelligently and subtly written. It is sad that [[Nella Larsen]] didn't write more than she did for she was a brilliant writer. I highly recommend this book and I think it is one that will stay with me long past my reading of it.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This is a great novel concerning 'passing', which refers to black people who have light enough skin to pass as white people, especially Clare, who uses passing to improve her social status. However, the conflict begins when she wants to be reunited with the black community and her reputation in the white community in tact. She employs Irene, who despises Clare for passing and also threatening her secure and safe middle class lifestyle. But if Irene doesn't help Clare, she will feel as if she is betraying her race because they are from the same race. There is only one solution to the problem, but I don't want to spoil the ending for you. Larsen is an excellent write for this, and makes drama real.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    In 1929, she published Passing, her second novel, which was also critically successful. It is the story of two childhood friends, Clare and Irene. They lost touch when Clare's father died and she moved in with two white aunts. By hiding that Clare was part-black, she was able to 'pass' as a white woman and married a white bigot. Irene by contrast lives in Harlem, commits herself to racial uplift, and marries a black doctor. The novel centers on the meeting of the two childhood friends later in life, and the unfolding of events as each woman is fascinated and seduced by the other's daring lifestyle. The novel traces a tragic path as Irene believes, without concrete evidence, that her husband is having an affair with Clare. Her fears are never clearly justified as incidents seemingly innocent are not probative. Clare's race is revealed to her husband and the novel ends with a 'shocking' finale.The novel is complicated but elegantly plotted. The dual figures of Irene and Clare in many ways mirror each other and allow the author to explore the the complexities of their relationship. While there may be erotic undertones in the two women's relationship, it is their repressed lives that clearly predominates. With Clare in a terrible marriage to a bigot and Irene subject to increasing doubts about her own marriage and family, the novel quickly progresses towards its denouement. I found this a lucidly written depiction of a world that is not limited to blacks, but occurs wherever secrets are allowed to take control of people's lives.

Book preview

Passing - Nella Larsen

Part One--Encounter

One

It was the last letter in Irene Redfield’s little pile of morning mail. After her other ordinary and clearly directed letters the long envelope of thin Italian paper with its almost illegible scrawl seemed out of place and alien. And there was, too, something mysterious and slightly furtive about it. A thin sly thing which bore no return address to betray the sender. Not that she hadn’t immediately known who its sender was. Some two years ago she had one very like it in outward appearance. Furtive, but yet in some peculiar, determined way a little flaunting. Purple ink. Foreign paper of extraordinary size.

It had been, Irene noted, postmarked in New York the day before. Her brows came together in a tiny frown. The frown, however, was more from perplexity than from annoyance; though there was in her thoughts an element of both. She was wholly unable to comprehend such an attitude towards danger as she was sure the letter’s contents would reveal; and she disliked the idea of opening and reading it.

This, she reflected, was of a piece with all that she knew of Clare Kendry. Stepping always on the edge of danger. Always aware, but not drawing back or turning aside. Certainly not because of any alarms or feeling of outrage on the part of others.

And for a swift moment Irene Redfield seemed to see a pale small girl sitting on a ragged blue sofa, sewing pieces of bright red cloth together, while her drunken father, a tall, powerfully built man, raged threateningly up and down the shabby room, bellowing curses and making spasmodic lunges at her which were not the less frightening because they were, for the most part, ineffectual. Sometimes he did manage to reach her. But only the fact that the child had edged herself and her poor sewing over to the farthermost corner of the sofa suggested that she was in any way perturbed by this menace to herself and her work.

Clare had known well enough that it was unsafe to take a portion of the dollar that was her weekly wage for the doing of many errands for the dressmaker who lived on the top floor of the building of which Bob Kendry was janitor. But that knowledge had not deterred her. She wanted to go to her Sunday school’s picnic, and she had made up her mind to wear a new dress. So, in spite of certain unpleasantness and possible danger, she had taken the money to buy the material for that pathetic little red frock.

There had been, even in those days, nothing sacrificial in Clare Kendry’s idea of life, no allegiance beyond her own immediate desire. She was selfish, and cold, and hard. And yet she had, too, a strange capacity of transforming warmth and passion, verging sometimes almost on theatrical heroics.

Irene, who was a year or more older than Clare, remembered the day that Bob Kendry had been brought home dead, killed in a silly saloon fight. Clare, who was at that time a scant fifteen years old, had just stood there with her lips pressed together, her thin arms folded across her narrow chest, staring down at the familiar pasty-white face of her parent with a sort of disdain in her slanting black eyes. For a very long time she had stood like that, silent and staring. Then, quite suddenly, she had given way to a torrent of weeping, swaying her thin body, tearing at her bright hair, and stamping her small feet. The outburst had ceased as suddenly as it had begun. She glanced quickly about the bare room, taking everyone in, even the two policemen, in a sharp look of flashing scorn. And, in the next instant, she had turned and vanished through the door.

Seen across the long stretch of years, the thing had more the appearance of an outpouring of pent-up fury than of an overflow of grief for her dead father; though she had been, Irene admitted, fond enough of him in her own rather catlike way.

Catlike. Certainly that was the word which best described Clare Kendry, if any single word could describe her. Sometimes she was hard and apparently without feeling at all; sometimes she was affectionate and rashly impulsive. And there was about her an amazing soft malice, hidden well away until provoked. Then she was capable of scratching, and very effectively too. Or, driven to anger, she would fight with a ferocity and impetuousness that disregarded or forgot any danger, superior strength, numbers, or other unfavorable circumstances. How savagely she had clawed those boys the day they had hooted her parent and sung a derisive rhyme, of their own composing, which pointed out certain eccentricities in his careening gait! And how deliberately she had—

Irene brought her thoughts back to the present, to the letter from Clare Kendry that she still held unopened in her hand. With a little feeling of apprehension, she very slowly cut the envelope, drew out the folded sheets, spread them, and began to read.

It was, she saw at once, what she had expected since learning from the postmark that Clare was in the city. An extravagantly phrased wish to see her again. Well, she needn’t and wouldn’t, Irene told herself, accede to that. Nor would she assist Clare to realize her foolish desire to return for a moment to that life which long ago, and of her own choice, she had left behind her.

She ran through the letter, puzzling out, as best she could, the carelessly formed words or making instinctive guesses at them.

... For I am lonely, so lonely ... cannot help longing to be with you again, as I have never longed for anything before; and I have wanted many things in my life.... You can’t know how in this pale life of mine I am all the time seeing the bright pictures of that other that I once thought I was glad to be free of.... It’s like an ache, a pain that never ceases.... Sheets upon thin sheets of it. And ending finally with, and it’s your fault, ‘Rene dear. At least partly. For I wouldn’t now, perhaps, have this terrible, this wild desire if I hadn’t seen you that time in Chicago....

Brilliant red patches flamed in Irene Redfield’s warm olive cheeks.

That time in Chicago. The words stood out from among the many paragraphs of other words, bringing with them a clear, sharp remembrance in which even now, after two years, humiliation, resentment, and rage were mingled.

Two

This is what Irene Redfield remembered.

Chicago. August. A brilliant day, hot, with a brutal staring sun pouring down rays that were like molten rain. A day on which the very outlines of the buildings shuddered as if in protest at the heat. Quivering lines sprang up from baked pavements and wriggled along the shining car tracks. The automobiles parked at the curbs were a dancing blaze, and the glass of the shopwindows threw out a blinding radiance. Sharp particles of dust rose from the burning sidewalks, stinging the seared or dripping skins of wilting pedestrians. What small breeze there was seemed like the breath of a flame fanned by slow bellows.

It was on that day of all others that Irene set out to shop for the things which she had promised to take home from Chicago to her two small sons, Brian junior and Theodore. Characteristically, she had put it off until only a few crowded days remained of her long visit. And only this sweltering one was free of engagements till the evening.

Without too much trouble she had got the mechanical airplane for Junior. But the drawing book, for which Ted had so gravely and insistently given her precise directions, had sent her in and out of five shops without success.

It was while she was on her way to a sixth place that right before her smarting eyes a man toppled over and became an inert crumpled heap on the scorching cement. About the lifeless figure a little crowd gathered. Was the man dead or only faint? someone asked her. But Irene didn’t know and didn’t try to discover. She edged her way out of the increasing crowd, feeling disagreeably damp and sticky and soiled from contact with so many sweating bodies.

For a moment she stood fanning herself and dabbing at her moist face with an inadequate scrap of handkerchief. Suddenly she was aware that the whole street had a wobbly look and realized that she was about to faint. With a quick perception of the need for immediate safety, she lifted a wavering hand in the direction of a cab parked directly in front of her. The perspiring driver jumped out and guided her to his car. He helped, almost lifted her in. She sank down on the hot leather seat.

For a minute her thoughts were nebulous. They cleared.

I guess, she told her Samaritan, it’s tea I need. On a roof somewhere.

The Drayton, ma’am? he suggested. They do say as how it’s always a breeze up there.

Thank you. I think the Drayton’ll do nicely, she told him.

There was that little grating sound of the clutch being slipped in as the man put the car in gear and slid deftly out into the boiling traffic. Reviving under the warm breeze stirred up by the moving cab, Irene made some small attempts to repair the damage that the heat and crowds had done to her appearance.

All too soon the rattling vehicle shot towards the sidewalk and stood still. The driver sprang out and opened the door before the hotel’s decorated attendant could reach it. She got out, and thanking him smilingly as well as in a more substantial manner for his kind helpfulness and understanding, went in through the Drayton’s wide doors.

Stepping out of the elevator that had brought her to the roof, she was led to a table just in front of a long window whose gently moving curtains suggested a cool breeze. It was, she thought, like being wafted upward on a magic carpet to another world, pleasant, quiet, and strangely remote from the sizzling one that she had left below.

The tea, when it came, was all that she had desired and expected. In fact, so much was it what she had desired and expected that after the first deep cooling

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