The Help

When I started reading this book I read at least one hundred pages in a morning. I cared about the characters and what happened to each one and why they were important to the story. I loved how Skeeter's and Minny's story ended but I think Aibileen's story needed more closure. I wanted to know more of what she planned on doing and know that she would be ok. After all, the book is about the help. There was so much detail in this book and wonderful, and sometimes not so wonderful, characters to make it seem so real. I loved how the author put some history in the book, including Martin Luther King, and the assassination of Kennedy. It made me realize, even though it is quite obvious that this book is fiction, what it was like for the help show more to live in the deep south and how quickly the rules began to change in the 60s. show less

I recently finished the audio version of The Help with Bahni Turpin and Octavia Spencer as two of the narrators. Their part of the narration was exceptional. The novel itself was embarrassing and not particularly well written. I didn’t read any reviews before listening to it or writing down my reactions. I was uncomfortable with the idea of a book written by a white woman that presumed to speak directly for Black folks and I wanted to form my own opinion without being influenced. I am still uncomfortable with much about the novel. The only reason I give it 2 stars is that it may, with all its faults, give a glimpse of what Black maids live(d) through as seen through Stockett’s eyes. Apparently, these experiences are surprising to show more many people so I suppose that’s something.

The Help is a feel-good fairy tale for white folks. The setting is Jackson, Mississippi in the early 1960s. Eugenia “Skeeter” Phelan, free, white, and 23, has graduated from Ole Miss University. She lives at home on her family’s cotton plantation but she doesn’t want to stay there. She wants to go to New York and become an author but first she needs to write a book.

Fortunately for Skeeter, Hilly Holbrook, a prominent and almost caricatured member of Jackson's white community, provides the topic. Hilly determines to get a law passed that will require white families to have outdoor bathrooms built for their “colored” help—separate but equal. 1963 seems a bit late in the day for Hilly to have come up with this idea, but she does.

Skeeter is struck by the injustice of Hilly’s actions and their effect on Hilly’s maid, Aibileen. Lordy, where has Skeeter been all this long time? Has she just noticed segregation and its consequences in Mississippi? Did she somehow miss, among many other things, the 1962 riots following the admission of African-American student James Meredith to her own white, segregated Alma Mater, Ole Miss?

Well, whatever. Now Skeeter’s had segregation brought to her attention and, I guess, has seen some of its consequences a bit more clearly than before and what lo! This is the topic she’s been looking for. She decides to write a book about the experiences of Black maids in white homes.

She’s determined to enlist the maids themselves to help with the book and to get them to tell her their stories. To this end, she invades the lives of these Black women, starting with Hilly Holbrook’s maid, Aibileen Clark, then Minny Jackson, a maid with a bad rep among white folks, and, eventually, pulls in a number of others.

Skeeter relentlessly badgers them into helping her with her book. In so doing, we are given to believe, she empowers these women to speak out, albeit anonymously. She continually infringes upon these women’s private lives and pleads for their help. Even when Aibileen is so exhausted after a day’s work that she can barely stand, Skeeter comes uninvited to her home at night to beg her to work on the stories. I wanted to smack Skeeter upside the head for bringing the demands of the white world into the privacy of Black women's homes.

Of course the women, starting with Aibileen, give in to Skeeter's importuning. And so it comes to pass that a skinny white girl leads these Black women to tell all, the good, the bad and the ugly, about being Black maids in Jackson. I am agog at the problems with this premise.

I guess I could understand if the toilet incident were a wake-up call for Skeeter, but for the maids? Really? The novel takes place in the ‘60s in the South. Even after legislation in the ‘50s aimed at bringing about integration, almost everything was still segregated. In many states, schools, colleges, medical facilities, drinking fountains, bathrooms, buses, parks, eating establishments, libraries, theatres, ballparks, and beaches were still separated into those for “whites” and those for “colored.” The penalties for trying to cross color lines were severe, sometimes fatal. The Klan was lethally active. Even The Help mentions the assassination of Medgar Evers, a civil rights activist and field secretary of the NAACP, in Jackson in June 1963 and touches on the fear this causes Aibileen.

Frankly, though, despite the fear they would have suffered, I hate to think that Aibileen Clark and Minny Jackson would need some young white woman to show them how to stand up for themselves if they were ready to do so. C’mon. These women have better options than Miss Skeeter and her book, however well-intentioned.

In the 60s, Black women and men, as well as whites, were coming together throughout the South to engage in nonviolent civil disobedience to bring about change in the face of strong, violent white resistance. There were also groups in existence founded by Blacks to help bring about integration and ensure civil rights for Blacks. Groups like the NAACP, SNCC, CORE, and SCLC were on the ground. The Freedom riders visited Jackson in 1961. The March on Washington took place in 1963.

Set in this context, the way these women attempt to redress the evils they face seems to me to be purely a white person’s solution. It’s petty. It trivializes the enormity of what was happening to Black folks and the scope of the changes for which the Movement was aiming.

Stockett attempts to convey the fear the women feel at the thought of reprisals for what they’re doing, but she clearly hasn’t felt that kind of fear herself and she falls far short in imagining or representing it. She does make clear, though, that the maids’ livelihoods, if not indeed their lives, are endangered by participating in Skeeter’s project, or by any behavior not condoned by whites. This makes it even harder to feel good about Skeeter’s self-serving determination to put these women at risk so she can get her book written. It is harder still to accept, first, their willingness to help her and then their protestations of gratitude toward her for giving them this opportunity. Oh please!

There is some acknowledgment of relevant events that are occurring in the South during the period covered by the novel, such as a sit in at a drug store counter, Medgar Evers’ assassination and the March on Washington, but they’re not given enough prominence or weight. For example, Skeeter plays a tacky trick on one of the tacky white folks at around the time of the killings of 4 Black girls by a KKK terrorist on Birmingham Sunday (September 15, 1963). The story of the trick supposedly makes even the New York Times. Aibileen allows that perhaps this happens because there just wasn’t much news that day and that, after all, there’s only so much you can say about the deaths of those 4 girls. Oh really? This is what a Black woman would say about the murder of 4 Black girls by the Klan? Wow.

I do think there’s a book lurking somewhere in Stockett’s experience that might be interesting if she could find and write it. I didn’t really glimpse it until I listened to Stockett’s Too little, too late Afterward to the audio book.

Stockett was raised by Demetrie, a Black nanny whom she loved very much and who died when Stockett was 16. I believe her relationship to Demetrie is probably reflected in the relationship between Aibileen and Hilly Holbrook’s 2-year-old daughter, Mae Mobley. Stockett would probably have been about Mae Mobley’s age in the early 70s. My guess is that Stockett created a character in Aibileen who feels about Mae Mobley as Stockett hopes Demetrie may have felt about her. Given the nature of their relationship, Stockett will never know. Nor do we.

If the depiction of the relationship between Aibileen and Mae Mobley is an accurate reflection of that between Demetrie and Stockett as Stockett envisioned it, there is indeed a painful and complex story there and it’s not a fairy tale.

I would be interested to know what it’s like to be that little white girl, raised by and loving a Black woman, coming to terms with the complexities and implications of that relationship, perhaps with the desire to be Demetrie’s daughter and maybe to be Black herself. Stockett strongly suggests this possibility in Aibileen’s relationship with Mae Mobley. If this was Stockett’s experience and she had told that story, I’d have been interested. Unlike The Help, it wouldn’t have necessitated speaking for Blacks, would have been less self-serving and, if done insightfully, could have been a coming-of-age story worth reading.

As far as the purported subject of the book itself, if you want to know what was really going on during the Civil Rights Movement in the ‘60s, read someone besides Stockett. There are a lot of books out there, but don't expect any of them to make you feel good. show less

Okay, here's the deal: I am just not a big fan of "Our black maid raised me and we were just like mother and daughter." I'm sorry, but the experience of a black woman who raises the child of the white woman who is paying her a pittance and reinforces cruel social boundaries at every turn is so complex, so layered, so very very troubling, that I just don't think a white author can do it justice. So that is one big strike against this book, for me. The second one came when I read the reviews on the back cover, especially the one from the (white) reviewer who called the voices of the three main characters (two black, one white) "pitch-perfect." They are not pitch perfect. The dialect of the two black women is always just a little off. Not show more too much, not too obviously - just enough for me to twitch at a jarring note on practically every page.

BUT. Whatever else she is or is not, Kathryn Stockett is a CHAMPION storyteller. About halfway through "The Help", the critic in my brain fell into a drugged sleep, leaving me to become totally immersed in what is, at its core, a fantastic story - and I use "fantastic" in both its meanings. "The Help" is a fairy tale, yes - a story that could not have happened, for many, many reasons. But I cared about all three of the women and their lives and problems, and I cheered for the deliciously witty revenge they take on the society that terrorizes them. And kudos to Stockett for pointing out what is not always obvious: that social oppression cages and diminishes the oppressor as well as the oppressed.

And I just want to say, that pie thing? I figured it out right away. I remembered Celie from "The Color Purple" and what she did to that glass of water...and what she planned to do next time. show less

It's 1962; things are about to get hot in Mississippi, where "our Nigras know their place", as frustrated young white women take over the reins of society from their frustrated white mothers, all of whom have taught their daughters how to behave, how to dress, and how to treat "the help". None of those lessons sit too well with Skeeter Phelan, who is too tall, with unmanageable hair and no fashion sense, who graduated from Ole Miss without a marriage proposal to go with her diploma, and who has arrived home to discover that a new maid has replaced Constantine, the black woman who raised her. No one is willing to talk about where Constantine went, or why. When Skeeter applies for a job at the local newspaper, she is given the task of show more writing the Jackson, Mississippi, equivalent of "Hints from Heloise". The only problem is, of course, she knows less than nothing about housekeeping. In the process of begging help from one of her friends' maids, Skeeter comes up with the dangerous and irresistible idea of collecting stories about the relationships between white women and their black maids----from the maids---and putting them together in a book. The Help is full of observations about friendship, motherhood, social change, honesty, loyalty, hypocrisy and treachery, but it is problematic for many reasons. It is a "white savior" sort of story, with stereotypical characters. Points off for one particularly distasteful scene that struck me as totally unnecessary and out of character for the book, demeaning to the Character involved, and designed to make the reader feel good about applauding an act of childish retribution by a grown woman. show less

From little things, big things grow...

This book made me so mad! Let me re-phrase that: the subject of this book made me so mad - and sad, while altogether mesmerised. What an emotional roller-coaster ride this was. I had to keep reminding myself that these extremely well-written, profoundly well-captured experiences were from 50 years ago (!) - though, unfortunately, similar attitudes are still the norm in places today. But how illuminating and how honest is this memoir; shaped simply as a legitimate rendition from three perspectives about shared life-changing, momentous circumstances in (what I consider is) a bleak chapter of history; with a candour and an openness that is to be lauded.

Seemingly, from out of nowhere, and emanating from show more a juxtaposition of unplanned elements, an unusual alliance is formed within the lives of three women, living in race-divided Jackson, Mississippi, circa 1962; leading to a young white woman, Skeeter, beginning a frank and forthright written history of the ordeals of black maids under their white Southern mistresses’ indenture. And hence a biography of the times. But the story belongs to brave, canny, sensible Aibileen raising her seventeenth white child (and counting), while still grieving the loss of her only son; and her best friend Minny, seventeen years younger and at once sassy, solid and susceptible - both a strength to each other, and to their community. As each rails internally, though more openly in Minny’s case, against their increasingly difficult and demeaning situation, a precarious rebellion is triggered - the consequences to all three, and to all those around them, meticulously detailed in the constant horrors dealt to any who dare defy the ‘natural order’ of this state.

I cannot emphasise enough how well this narrative works! From the moment I poked my nose inside this book, I was hooked. By employing the three discrete, distinct viewpoints and oscillating cleverly between, Ms Stockett creates a fascinating, intertwined chronicle of events - wholly genuine in tone, inexorably believable in total; and well...so very real, despite the seemingly (to me) perverse unreality at play! From these conversations emerges a reasoning, a comprehension, an instruction - albeit somewhat irrational, absurd and downright unfair in many instances - behind the every action of both ‘sides’ in this discourse; ultimately providing a deft scrutiny of the rigid hypocrisy of the times, but an understanding nonetheless. And as the enterprise gathers apace, almost beyond the participants control, the tension and foreboding in the story-line ratchet up accordingly - I was beside myself with worry as I rapidly turned the pages in anticipated dread; sharing every concern, every small victory, and every emotion alongside these wonderful women. I laughed, I cried and I willed them on regardless. Their personal endeavours begged to be told!

Furthermore, I love the title - and the parallel of this account with the genesis of the book as the premise, and its underscoring of the whole tale:
Aibileen scratches her nose, says, “What do think about just calling it...Help?
“Help, Minny repeats, like she’s never heard of the word.....
“I like...Help,” I say, because I really do.... I think that‘s a good title”....
“Good is right,” says Minny. “Cause if the thing gets printed, Lord knows we gone need some.” (p. 356)

Which, in fact, is not true. Little help will be necessary to sell this book; the hype is well and truly deserved, the book worthy of its accolades. And yes, the situations unveiled here are not limited to only one country, to one society; decidedly similarities are ongoing around the world today. My wish (and possibly the author's) is that this story, along with many others, will conceivably help expose the appalling inequities imposed on undeserving and unwilling participants in the past, help to resist such predicaments in the future and help provide a culture of enlightenment...and hope.
Now that's some Help indeed!

(Jan 1, 2011) show less

This is a book that I avoided for a long time because of its popularity - pretty much like I didn't get into Harry Potter until there was a fourth book and I realized it wouldn't be going away.

A rare treat: a book I couldn't put down, couldn't stop thinking about, a book I had to read over again as soon as I had finished it. Delicious fiction. So glad I enjoyed it before the movie came along.

I disagreed with part of the Book Club Review section in the back that posited that Hilly was "a wonderful mother." As far as my sister and I could remember, this was illustrated with a display of goopy goodwill at the pool. We thought, maybe that was really a performance for the other moms? It said nothing about their home life. We both wondered show more how Hilly's need for domination and control was going to play out when her kids became rebellious teenagers. I expect that was going to be a fraught relationship full of drama. Poor kids. I don't know if I feel sorrier for them or for little MaeMo. I dearly do like to think that girl grew up able to bust on outta Jackson and have herself a fulfilling life full of adventure. And that Elizabeth's face actually turned into a prune in front of the friends she so needed to impress.

Aibileen is one of my favorite characters ever with her strength, dignity, and caring heart. I have put her on the List of Imaginary Heroines Whose Autograph I'd Get If I Only Could. I'd ask Minny, too, but only if Abie said she'd be okay with that. show less

This story of racial segregation in Mississippi in the early 1960s, with a backdrop of the civil rights movement, is told by three different women: Aibileen and Minny, two black maids; and Skeeter, a young white woman. We slowly find out the stories behind the maids, and many other maids in town, as at the same time we get to see how Skeeter's life develops. And behind it all the oppression and fear that led to the civil rights movement.

My main worry going into this is that it was written by a white woman, but would have passages written from the point of view of the two black characters. But she did win me over, because her characters were human, and I got caught up in their fight for their own rights and stories. (And, funnily enough, show more the one passage that did not ring true to me was the one written in third person, at the highly anticipated Jackson Junior League Annual Ball and Benefit.) Many of the maids' stories are sad, but some of the stories are positive, with the maids having a close relationship with their families.

Minny has difficulties keeping a job, given her inability to talk nicely to her white employers, but she usually manages something because she's one of the best cooks around. Aibileen has raised countless children for other people, but moves on once the children reach a certain age.

It was an eye-opener for me, who has never had someone so much as come through and clean my house for me. These southern families insist on having a maid to do the work (given the descriptions of the heat in Mississippi, I don't really blame them however), and the maids are so much in their homes and lives that they know everything, but are always "the help", rarely a real member of the family.

At the end of the book there is a short essay, "Too Little, Too Late" by Kathryn Stockett, talking about her own relationship with her own maid, Demetrie. I wish this had been at the front of the book, it would have given me more of a context of the story and the author. She quotes Howell Raines:

There is no trickier subject for a writer from the South than that of affection between a black person and a white one in the unequal world of segregation. For the dishonesty upon which a society is founded makes every emotion suspect, makes it impossible to know whether what flowed between two people was honest feeling or pity or pragmatism.

That summed up my worries going in, and dispelled any niggling doubts at the end. Stockett knew what she was doing, and that it is a nigh-on impossible task to understand the true feelings of everyone in this situation. So I wish that this had been at the front, and soothed my worries right from the beginning.

*** MINOR SPOILER ***

One thing I particularly liked was that so often in fiction the oppressed characters are liberated by someone from outside, and this could have easily gone that way with Skeeter showing the maids how they are oppressed and how they should fight back. But the author is too clever for that: the maids know they are oppressed, and it's more about how they help Skeeter escape, while managing their own fight.

*** END SPOILER *** show less