Ninth Ward

Ninth Ward by Jewell Parker Rhodes
2011 Corretta Scott King Honor

Lenesha is 12 and lives in the Ninth Ward of New Orleans and this is her story. And the story of the 9 days stretching from the Sunday before Hurricane Katrina to the Tuesday after the storm hit. It's also the story of Mama Ya-Ya, the midwife, seer, and healer that has raised Lanesha since birth; a boy named TaShon and his dog Spot.  Lanesha shares the gift of sight with her Mama Ya-Ya, so the story includes the ghosts that visit her.

This story is beautifully written and conceived. The author says in her acknowledgements "Books were my lifeline during a difficult childhood. For my entire writing life, I've been waiting to grow up enough to write what I hoped would be a good book for young audiences." I think she's achieved that.

First of all,  you will love Mama Ya-Ya  and Lanesha. They are both fascinating and likable people. Mama Ya-Ya is wise and loving. Lanesha is smart and sweet and determined. They are complex characters with their share of hard times, but the love between them is sure and strong.

What I admire most about this book is the balance between the devastation, terror, and drama of the hurricane and the levees breaking---- and the love between the characters (both living and dead), the will to survive and the coming of age that comes of that effort, and the hope remaining intact in the midst of all the destruction and chaos.

It describes the intensity of the storm from the mayor announcing the mandatory evacuation. . . "Mama Ya-Ya bites her lip, shakes her head muttering, 'How can it be mandatory if I don't have a way to go?'"

To the earth shaking force of the hurricane passing over. . . "The house shakes, teetering, in the wind and rain's violent game. Dodgeball. Tug-of-war. Shakes Sways and I swear, it's going to fall. . . fall. . . fall over. Down. The bed is rattling, creeping across the floor like it grew feet."

To the water rising . . .  " I sit and count, 'One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand. . .' I count until my mouth cracks dry. I watch the black liquid crawling up the steps. Sixty-one one thousands equals a minute. I count six hundred minutes. That's ten minute for the water to rise halfway up a step. Another ten to cover a new step. Twenty minutes for each whole step. There are twelve steps to the attic floor.

Twenty minutes times twelve. We've got two hours left.

Survive."

But through out all that intensity is a cord of loving wisdom and fortitude that is like a torch passed from Mama Ya-Ya to Lanesha. "As time slips by, as the water rises, I try to think about what's next, about what Mama Ya-Ya would want me to do.

8 + 4 = 12. Spiritual strength. Real strength, Lanesha. Like butterflies."


I very much enjoyed this book and can recommend it!