THE UNSETTLED

A family’s struggles in Philadelphia are echoed in turmoil in its ancestral Alabama.

Mathis’ follow-up to her brilliant debut, the novel-in-stories The Twelve Tribes of Hattie (2013), concerns three generations of one Black family. In 1985, Ava Carson has escaped her abusive husband, Abemi Reed, but is left homeless and jobless; the shelter that accepts her and her young son, Toussaint, is roach-infested, and lingering trauma interferes with her ability to get her life in order. Toussaint, meanwhile, plays truant and becomes enmeshed in the neighborhood’s street life. Mathis alternates Ava and Toussaint’s ongoing plight with a storyline narrated by Ava’s mother, Dutchess, a one-time traveling blues singer. She’s one of the last residents of an Alabama town, Bonaparte, which is slowly becoming overrun, at times violently, by encroaching white developers from the ironically named Progress Corp., which “pulled it up like a weed and threw it facedown in the dirt.” A glimmer of hope appears with the re-emergence of Toussaint’s father, Cassius Wright, a doctor and former Black Panther who’s trying to launch a much-needed (if technically illegal) neighborhood health clinic and strictly run commune. But order proves slippery, and the novel’s very structure implies that Black families separated by distance and broken by (mainly white) policing and development become nearly impossible to sustain. Mathis’ themes, and sometimes her prose, echo Their Eyes Were Watching God and Sula, two similarly lyrical stories rooted in place and relationships. Though this novel doesn’t enter their ranks, Mathis powerfully evokes the heartbreak and ways best efforts are undermined by social and legal machinery. A determination among all three characters defines the story—Dutchess, Ava, and Toussaint are inheritors of abuse, but Mathis makes them objects of indomitability, not pity.

An affecting and carefully drawn story of a family on the brink.