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"A powerful, timely debut, The Turner House marks a major new contribution to the story of the American family. The Turners have lived on Yarrow Street for over fifty years. Their house has seen thirteen children grown and gone--and some returned; it has seen the arrival of grandchildren, the fall of Detroit's East Side, and the loss of a father. The house still stands despite abandoned lots, an embattled city, and the inevitable shift outward to the suburbs. But now, as ailing matriarch Viola finds herself forced to leave her home and move in with her eldest son, the family discovers that the house is worth just a tenth of its mortgage. The Turner children are called home to decide its fate and to reckon with how each of their pasts haunts--and shapes--their family's future. Already praised by Ayana Mathis as "utterly moving" and "un-putdownable," The Turner House brings us a colorful, complicated brood full of love and pride, sacrifice and unlikely inheritances. It's a striking examination of the price we pay for our dreams and futures, and the ways in which our families bring us home"--… (more)
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That’s the kind of home The Turner House has been for the family of 13 brothers and sisters, raised in a Yarrow Street home in Detroit
Their truck-driving father Francis has died and now their matriarch, Viola, has had to move in with the oldest son and his wife after suffering strokes. The Turner house is now one of those abandoned houses on Detroit’s east side. The debt on it is far more than what anyone will pay for it after the era of predatory loans hit the Turners, like many of their neighbors.
Being it’s a large family, not all the siblings are in the same situation or the same mindset. Some think of ways they could scrounge up enough money to pay what the bank wants to short-sell the house for. Others scheme to see if someone they know will pay the bank so they can have the house.
The youngest, Lelah, has just been evicted from her apartment. She has a serious gambling addiction and was fired after borrowing from fellow employees and complaining when she was sexually harassed. Babysitting her grandson is a way to stay out of the casino and a place to be daytime, but it’s not 24 hours and she’s not on the best of terms with her daughter. She has no other place to go except home, sneaking into the old home at night.
Being able to go home meant a lot to her when her marriage fell apart and she took her baby to her parents’ house:
"Even before moving home for good, she’d seen that staying in the Midwest had its rewards, the most significant being that Brianne received Francis Turner’s blessing. A blessing from Francis did not have a spiritual connotation in any formal sense. It meant that Francis would get to know your child in a way that wasn’t possible for everyone in his ever-expanding line. In the final years of his life, Francis spent most days on the back porch, eyeing his tomato patch with good-natured suspicion, listening to his teams lose on the radio, and smoking his pipe. He did these things, and he held Brianne. Right against his chest. Francis had nothing cute or remotely entertaining to offer babies, he didn’t say anything to them at all. Instead he gave them his heartbeat. Put their little heads on his chest and went about his day. Even the fussiest babies seemed to know better than to cut short their time with Francis via undue crying or excessive pooping. Lelah would stand in the back doorway and watch Brianne sleeping against Francis, his large hand holding her up by the butt, and think she could stand a few more years of being close by. How many babies had he held just like that since Cha-Cha was born, using only his heartbeat as conversation?"
There is a moment at the end of the book that underlays Lelah’s memory. It’s one of those heart-warming moments that isn’t forced, but which means more because it’s true.
The oldest, Cha-Cha, has always felt responsible and really knows how to fuss with finesse. Saving the family home is so important to him. So is taking care of his mother. And depending on his wife to make the huge family gatherings go off without a hitch. A truck driver delivering loads of new cars, Cha-Cha ran his truck off the road one night. It wasn’t fatigue. He saw the haint that he hadn’t seen since he was a child. And now he’s got to go to a company psychiatrist to talk about it.
As the oldest and youngest deal with their problems, they reach out to family and family won’t leave them alone. This is one of the strengths of Flournoy’s novel. Although the largest family I know has only six siblings, the dynamics are the same as depicted here. The love and logistics are palpable. Flournoy handles a huge cast -- and yes, jumps back and forth in time -- and never once is the reader confused about who, what or when.
Siblings appear to be on the verge of making the worst mistakes they could. None of them, however, go through what Francis did when he came up to Detroit after his military service looking for work, leaving Viola and his oldest back home in the South. Some of what happens to Francis is due to the times, but he is the true patriarch of the family when he exhibits pride that controls how he makes his decisions. It’s something that many of his children struggle with as well. But Flournoy shows not only that pride masquerading as self-righteousness can get a person in trouble, pride also can be a source of strength to make it through hard times and persevere.
Just as Flournoy is able to work with so many characters, she also is able to convey what matters about so many elements -- post-war Detroit job hunting, today’s unemployment lines, casinos, pawnshops, haints, family, siblings, children, past debts, making payments that aren’t just money, making retribution, making do, doing better, dreams, schemes, addition, healing, honesty in confrontations about old and new hurts, forgiveness and fresh starts.
Everything revolves around each other and their house:
"Humans haunt more houses than ghosts do. Men and women assign value to brick and mortar, link their identities to mortgages paid on time. On frigid winter nights, young mothers walk their fussy babies from room to room, learning where the rooms catch drafts and where the floorboards creak. In the warm damp of summer, fathers sit on porches, sometimes worried and often tired but comforted by the fact that a roof is up there providing shelter. Children smudge up walls with dirty handprints, find nooks to hide their particular treasure, or hide themselves if need be. We live and die in houses, dream of getting back to houses, take great care in considering who will inherit the houses when we’re gone."
Thanks to Angela Flournoy, the fictional Turners have a legacy of a home that is far more than a house. It is also a haven for a reader. No wonder this novel is a National Book Award finalist.
I was really excited to read this book, it sounded so promising, but ultimately I felt let-down. There were so many elements to this story, and each could/should have made for an intriguing read, but I think the author took on too much.
The Turner family is comprised of 13
The Turner house was originally on the edge of a white Detroit neighborhood, now it is one of a few left as homes are foreclosed upon, torn down, abandoned etc. Well there must be some great tales to be told here - how did the white neighbors react before they fled to the suburbs? How did it feel to live in a community that changes, goes through the riots, and then declines so drastically? We get almost no info in this book!
The father left the South, coming to Detroit for work. He reunites with the wife and child he left behind many months later, after almost no contact - how did that go? How did they settle in together after the time apart? How did they make friends? How did they decide to live in an area that was home to mostly white people? How were they received? We get a bit about the reunion, then not much else.
Thirteen children grow up ,and for the most part, do well. No teenage pregnancies, no real tragedies, pretty impressive for the era and yet we get little idea of how these parents did such a good job keeping their kids away from drugs/gangs/crime/cults/whatever that the 60's/70's/80's etc offered.
Instead we get a big story about the eldest son and his possible "haint" and how it affects him,his wife and their marriage. The "vision" brings to the fore issues in there marriage, and the author handles this well, but that was not what I thought this book was about! The other storyline that dominates is the youngest daughter and her gambling problem. This too is handled well, but once again, not whatI was led to believe the book is about.
In the end, many story lines are introduced, none were resolved. Many characters are introduced, only two are even remotely developed. The big issue, the title character, the house - is also left in limbo. So frustrating!
There was not one character in this book I liked or cared about - maybe because there were too many, maybe because none were fully realized, maybe because the ones that seemed like they may have been the most interesting were given short-shrift by the author...I gave up caring mid-way through the book and just read to find out how all the story lines would shake out - and I never did!
While the storylines concentrates the most on Francis (father), Charles (Cha-Cha – the eldest) and Lelah (the youngest), other siblings and Viola make appearances and have their say. Through the parents we see the trials and tribulations of moving to the North for a “better” life, and through Charles and Lelah we see the changing times of Detroit. Intense family scenes are balanced with moments of quiet reflection so the reader often feels like a quiet observer.
This is a social novel with good and bad times fueled by sibling rivalry, familial resentment and marital strife. I enjoyed how Flournoy retained empathy for her characters as she shred the pretensions and hypocrisies of the times her African-American characters live in. While it is often not difficult to figure out a lot of the actions, it is a measure of the author’s skills that this seems perfect and does not distract from my reading pleasure. Chockful of characters whose stories are waiting to be told, I wondered if there was going to be a sequel and/or if I would see the characters in another book.
Fans of family sagas will savor this lyrically perceptive tale. And book clubs would be wise to select The Turner House as one of their discussion books.
This isn't a loud book, but it is a vivid one. This is a book about Detroit, about what it was like to be the son of an Arkansan sharecropper newly arrived and looking to find work, about living in a Detroit neighborhood when it was slowly sinking, and what it's like to have a home surrounded by vacant lots and uninhabited houses. Some of the Turner children left Detroit for easier places to make a life, but others stayed, moving to the suburbs or stuck where they are. Flournoy writes like a much more experienced author, and her characters are all complex and fascinating. She has the talent to give even the tertiary characters a real presence. I enjoyed my time with the Turner family enormously and I look forward with anticipation to Flournoy's next novel.
And that decision is complicated because this is the story of Detroit, a city that has shaped the Turner family. Through flashbacks, we learn of Francis's decision to head north from Arkansas to find work. We see glimpses of post-WWII Detroit when Francis searches for his place in the city, of Detroit in the Civil Rights Era as the Turner children are growing, and Detroit struggling to survive in the 21st century.
But at the same time, this is the story of the individual lives. Flournoy zooms in on some of the Turner children, bringing specificity to the challenges of overcoming addiction, maintaining a marriage, and losing a matriarch. She teases out individual stories while clearly depicting how they have been shaped by the family, switching easily from figure to ground. My favorite part of the book is the final scene, when Flournoy brings out the wide lens to capture the whole family as they come together for a family gathering. It was so real that it jumped off the page. It is this scene that made this a five-star book for me.
And perhaps that is why it is fitting that one of the final perspectives of the book comes from Viola, who perhaps knows this family best of all. She reflects, "They had crowded her thoughts, burdened her heart, and wanted too much from her over the past sixty-four years, and it had been worth it to try to give." I was sorry to leave the Turner family on the final page, but I have a feeling they will stick with me.
Detroit is certainly an interesting setting - race riots, white flight, the auto industry, one character mentioning that Detroit looks like a post-apocalypse. The timing of 2008 is also a good one with banks destroying the housing market, the will he/ won't he of Barack Obama's possible presidency. Flournoy focuses on the older and two younger siblings, while ten of them mainly stay offstage. This might be a good choice, otherwise the book might have gotten a little confusing, especially if many of the other relatives other than the siblings had been included. I would think that with thirteen siblings you'd feel like you have so much support, but the opposite might be true. Maybe there are too many people to stay in-the-know with. (And like in the book, maybe the oldest and youngest get all the attention.) With the youngest squatting in an abandoned house, she must not have been feeling much support, which is very sad. Just like in another recent read, Cynthia Bond's 'Ruby', haints play a major part in the story. To some, the haints are a threat and to others a guest for the lonely. I'm not sure how, but with such an interesting time, setting and family, the book seemed more like that empty abandoned Turner house to me... I expected a little more than just a bit of history of the oldest and youngest siblings of the Turner family. Detroit might look like the post-apocalypse, but that is because there is a ton of history there. 'The Turner House' should have included more of it.
By 2008, Francis has passed but his story is told in flashbacks. Viola is dying and has moved in with Cha-Cha, her eldest son. The house on Yarrow Street is under water and the possibilities for keeping it seem grim. Although all 13 children appear, the narrative mainly follows Cha-Cha and Lelah, the youngest. Both are struggling with demons: Cha-Cha quite literally has a demon—a ghost he calls a “haint”–while Lelah has a severe gambling addiction. They also contend with the gamut of other issues that plague us, including sibling rivalry, resentment, infidelity, alcohol abuse, homelessness, depression and poverty. Many of the Turner children seem to be coping by leaving their community. Indeed, this may represent the next generation’s great migration.
The narrative contains abundant details that lovingly recreate the setting and history. The dialogue engages the reader with this community. If the novel has flaws, these might be an overabundance of characters, who are not well realized and a plot that is not well integrated. Nevertheless, it is an appealing read.
The Turner family lived on Yarrow Street in Detroit for decades. They watched the community morph into a war zone. Like the house, the family was falling into a state of disrepair. The story begins to take shape in the 1940’s, when the first of the children, Cha-Cha (Charles), was born, and continues on its way describing the birth of the following 12, the last of whom is Lelah, born 20 years later. It follows the family all the way into the first decade of the 21st century. Sadly, nothing has changed in all that time. The despondency continues with no end in sight. Life keeps throwing slings and arrows at them that in many cases are due to no fault of their own. The housing market debacle, the drug wars, police brutality, addiction, eviction, all these things confront them, and they have no tools to fight back. The vultures take advantage of their plight.
The differences in the ways that life is viewed and/or approached and lived, in black communities, are illustrated as each of the 13 Turner children, their parents and the following generation’s offspring’s enter the narrative. They each try to find a way out of the community, in their own way, and in some cases, they succeed, in others the way out actually locks them back in, at some point. While it is easy to have sympathy and even empathy, it is also easy to judge them without ever having walked in their shoes. Therefore, the picture is not accurate, unless the reader can truly relate to the experience. Still, there has to be a way to change the situation, to bring upward mobility and a respect for education, law and order to the community. Otherwise, there will always be an underclass, always be riots, prejudice and perhaps chaos. In some cases, it is the very need to keep a low profile, to prevent ridicule that keeps the system from advancing. It is often pride that prevents progress. Also it is the fear of being ostracized by certain parts of the community because of higher aspirations, because of a desire to advance, to do better, to get ahead. I sometimes felt that some of the Turners, and those they associated with, wanted to find fault with each other in order to elevate their own opinion of themselves.
The Turner family was seething with sibling rivalry. There was often the absence of universal trust or respect. The book demonstrated the prevalence of superstition, the lack of marital fidelity, the disrespect for, and distrust of the police and the illogical impulse to cheat each other. It seemed as if they saw no real harm in what they were doing; they only saw the benefit to themselves. There was an atmosphere in which unlawful behavior seemed to be acceptable, and more so, it seemed to be expected, even preferred as the only way. No matter how hard one tried, defeat waited around the corner. Gambling, drugs and alcohol brought relief and hope to some, even though they watched it destroy their opportunities and their very lives. There was no strong support system to pull them back up when they fell and few healthy examples to follow. There were so many heroes with clay feet. The leadership in the church, in the government and in the community perpetuated this hopelessness in order to feather their own nests and prosper, while these poor victims remained in poverty. Some in the black community policed themselves, forging ahead to educate themselves, to lift themselves up and move out of the despicable atmosphere of these ghettoes where human life is not valued nor is ethics or morality, honesty or integrity.
Single parent families are failing the children. In their search for hope, love and maturity, young underage girls are bearing babies when they themselves are still babies. They cannot inspire their children to a better life because they can’t create one for themselves. They have locked themselves into a world of poverty because of a lack of education and immature choices. Even so, in this matriarchal society, the mother does command respect, in most situations, but there is no real authority figure, because the young child and the young parent are almost equal in needs! Both lack education and both lack the optimism and opportunity to improve. Although, once a community of faith, a community that valued morality, it now seems to be more of a community in which morality is more often flouted.
It is hard to blame the black community for their plight, although it is a self-inflicted wound in some cases. More likely, it is the result of years of disrespect and abuse which has beaten them down. They have to rise up, but not with anger. The community has to stop respecting the community organizers and those in authority who fail them; they need to vote them out and remove that negative influence from their communities. Only they can do that. They need to find their self respect again, begin to value themselves and their futures so they can create a better future for their offspring, the hope of all human beings regardless of color, creed or nationality.
Initially I gave the book four stars, but then I changed it to five, because the book is honest and open and informative even when it casts the community in a negative light. Above all, for me this book clearly illustrated the hopelessness, the humiliation, the shame and the guilt of the community as a whole. It also illustrated their dreams and their nightmares. To believe in themselves, they have to shut out the rest of the world, ignore the hate and the humiliation they face everyday of their lives, and that they have faced for generations. They have to stop allowing the wrong people to lead them, stop electing officials who hold them down in this untenable situation. They have to start taking responsibility for themselves, start rejecting the bullies and the thugs that try and influence them negatively. Blaming others for all their misfortunes will solve nothing. They have to stop the cycle of misfortunes, of drugs and death. Yet, many who try will not succeed. The system is stacked against them. There is a saying that commands, don’t fix what isn’t broken, but this is broken and seems never to get fixed.
It is a sad story, more so because it is a true picture of the plight of the black community and this plight is a blight on our history, and could be on our future if we do not end this cycle of violence and ignorance. The lack of a good education and a good foundation on which to stand, perpetuates the culture of loss and encourages this pattern of defeat. Often, foolish pride prevents success. I think a possible solution to this tragedy lies in mutual respect, self-respect and self-reliance; that is the path I hope we can pave together in the communities of color.
There's the fascinating back story of the parents - Francis and Viola - and how they founded a dynasty by leaving the South at a time when a working class Detroit man could get a decent job and support so many children. Francis drives for an auto manufacturer and Cha Cha is hired on when he is of age.
Francis and Viola have a rocky start to their marriage yet stay together. Cha Cha, chased his entire life by a haint (ghost), finally exorcises his own demon and reconciles with his wife Tina, who cares for the Turners as if they were her own family. Lelah finds some luck of her own.
Although racism takes its heavy toll on the family and on Detroit, there's joy at the ending, as "there truly ain't no party like a Turner house party." This is a family saga in the tradition of Alex Haley's Roots.
Newlyweds Viola and Francis Turner spent some of the early months of their marriage separated when he moved to Detroit to find work. Chapters about that era in the family history alternate with stories of the family’s present-day experiences. By and large, their children have many more choices than they did. The parents started out poor, the children are almost all firmly in the middle class.
Principal characters in the narrative are Charles Turner (Cha-Cha to the family), the eldest child, born in 1944, and patriarch of the family since his father’s death and the youngest, Lelah, born in 1967. Lelah has the most difficulties, many of which derive from a bad early marriage and her gambling addiction. She’s near-homelessness and shunned by her daughter Brianna. Cha-Cha is plagued by a haint, which has brought him in contact with a psychotherapist, a much younger African American woman to whom he’s unexpectedly attracted. These are secrets just waiting to burst out. Readers get to know several other family members reasonably well, too, especially brother Troy, the former soldier, now Detroit cop, and Cha-Cha’s wife Tina, who wonders whether her husband is slipping away.
With these two dramas bookending the family’s present-day story, Viola’s large dispersed family is coming together to celebrate her birthday, very probably her last. How they accommodate each other, buck each other up, revisit old wounds—every interaction seems exactly right. They have expectations of each other (“Turner men don’t . . .”) and a strong sense of their shared history. I marveled at Flournoy’s acutely observed assessments of the siblings and their motivations, for example: “The things we do in the name of protecting others are so often attempts to spare some part of ourselves.”
Now that Viola lives with Cha-Cha and Tina, a key issue is whether to sell the house they grew up in, in the largely abandoned heart of the city. Everyone has an opinion, but the long and the short of it is that the house is deep under water. Much more is owed on it than they could ever hope to recover in a sale. Sentimental ties seem hardly to justify the cost of keeping it, yet it will cost thousands to sell it.
You know these people. By remaining so true to its human core, The Turner House is “an engrossing and remarkably mature first novel,” said Matthew Thomas in the New York Times, who points out another of its strengths: “artful without being showy.” No wonder it was a finalist for the National Book Award! In Flournoy’s biography, we read that her father was from Detroit, and many of the tiny touches could only come from someone who knows that city well. It’s a beautiful book deserving of a wide readership.
Not entirely
Cha-Cha is a parental figure for the other siblings. After his father died he had to step up and became more of a
Lelah, the youngest of the family and the other central character of the novel, is a gambling addict who has lost all of her money, been evicted, and been fired from her job. She struggles with her addiction and relationships with other family members.
When it comes down to it, this book is really about family. All the family members struggle with some sort of resentment, guilt, anger, jealousy or other unresolved issue from the past. Growing up, each Turner had to fight for parental attention while they lived in crowded house in the city of Detroit. Detroit itself is another character in the novel. It steadily declines with its characters.
The book was good, but I did not feel that it deserved a National Book Award nomination.
Set in Detroit during the second half of the 20th century. The Turner family of 13 kids has been raised in this house on Yarrow Street, from Charles born in 1944 to Lelah born in 1967. The Detroit setting and the real estate problems there are key to the book. Mama, who is dying,
Had the potential to be a great family saga but turned out to be about only 3 of the kids: the eldest (Cha-Cha) and the 2 youngest (Troy & Lelah).
And then, mostly about Cha-cha & his danged “haint”. Cha-Cha should have listened to his father who proclaimed "THERE AIN'T NO HAINTS IN DETROIT". The book would have been a lot better for it.
All in all, a disappointment.
One quote from Viola (Mama) that struck home: "She couldn't remember when her fear of pain had first started trumping her fear of death." pg314