WE ARE A HAUNTING

A hyperkinetic, sometimes-moving debut novel about three generations of a Black family in New York City, spanning the last four decades.

Key is a doula in 1980s Brooklyn, and, like her mother, Audrey, she has the ability to communicate with those who’ve departed this realm. For these women, the barrier between the living and the dead is not an unbridgeable gulf but a membrane that can be permeated. Their gift is treated less as supernatural (with that term’s implication of weirdness and the occult) than as hypernatural; it’s an exquisite sensitivity born of rapport, one that's familiar rather than strange. Key’s untimely death leaves her mother in limbo, with the looming threat of losing the public-housing apartment they’ve shared. And it leaves her loving son, Colly, bereft, but before long he’ll come into the family inheritance—and thus get to engage his mother’s voice, over the rest of the novel, in the ways he’ll need to as he grows up, leaves New York for college and a bit of time after, and then is summoned back by the ties that bind him not only to family, but to the larger community of Black, working-class East New York. The book covers a lot of ground, and it can seem at times diffuse or indulgent, but for the most part its wide-ranging, multivocal, quick-shifting style—which incorporates frequent allusions to literature and visual art, brand names and the neighborhood prestige attached to them, and a mixtape element—serves admirably to emphasize the book’s ambition, which is to capture and to celebrate not just these characters, this family, but the community and the city they emerge from, serve, and love.

An intelligent, gritty, discursive group portrait of working-class New York from the 1980s to now.