The Color Purple
by Alice Walker
Having seen the movie The Color Purple a dozen times and loving every part of it, I was very excited to read Alice Walker’s original novel. With its chilling opening line, and the intriguingly ignorant narration of the protagonist, the first few chapters are extremely entertaining and engaging. Fans of the movie, beware: it’s difficult to put your finger on exactly why the novel is different, but it feels very different.
The Color Purple celebrates the bonds between sisters, friends, and women. I can’t imagine any man actually liking this book, since every man is portrayed to be either a rapist, philanderer, violent, deceitful, cruel, or any combination of the listed adjectives. But for women who have been beaten down, physically or emotionally, and have learned the healing power of sisterhood, this can be a very empowering read. Celie, the protagonist and narrator, experiences an ungodly amount of pain and suffering through the course of her life. She starts the novel giving birth to her second child; both children were conceived by her father’s rapes. Consoled only by the close love she shares with her younger sister, she’s soon separated from Nettie when her father marries her off to an abusive widower with children. The rest of the novel follows Celie’s terrible struggle to maintain a shred of hope for a better life.
I don’t think there’s anyone out there who would pick up the Pulitzer Prize winning novel without expecting a heavy, depressing read. But just in case you’ve never heard of it, seen the movie, or read the back cover, this is extremely heavy and extremely depressing. You can marvel at Alice Walker’s prose, feel sorry for Celie, or have your eyes opened as to another culture’s struggles, but you probably won’t actually like this book. I’ll probably watch the movie another dozen times in the next ten years, but I can’t imagine ever wanting to read the book again.
The Color Purple celebrates the bonds between sisters, friends, and women. I can’t imagine any man actually liking this book, since every man is portrayed to be either a rapist, philanderer, violent, deceitful, cruel, or any combination of the listed adjectives. But for women who have been beaten down, physically or emotionally, and have learned the healing power of sisterhood, this can be a very empowering read. Celie, the protagonist and narrator, experiences an ungodly amount of pain and suffering through the course of her life. She starts the novel giving birth to her second child; both children were conceived by her father’s rapes. Consoled only by the close love she shares with her younger sister, she’s soon separated from Nettie when her father marries her off to an abusive widower with children. The rest of the novel follows Celie’s terrible struggle to maintain a shred of hope for a better life.
I don’t think there’s anyone out there who would pick up the Pulitzer Prize winning novel without expecting a heavy, depressing read. But just in case you’ve never heard of it, seen the movie, or read the back cover, this is extremely heavy and extremely depressing. You can marvel at Alice Walker’s prose, feel sorry for Celie, or have your eyes opened as to another culture’s struggles, but you probably won’t actually like this book. I’ll probably watch the movie another dozen times in the next ten years, but I can’t imagine ever wanting to read the book again.