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A review by jaduhluhdabooks
Bloodmarked by Tracy Deonn
adventurous
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
It was just incredible.
I laughed. I cried. I just love Bree. I feel so connected to who she is and the struggle and challenge of Black excellence surrounded by people who don’t even want to see you thrive. I empathize with the lived reality of not knowing my heritage and culture to its fullest extent, yet carrying the weight and the burden of my people’s history to its fullest. The weight of lived and unlived experiences, stripped dignity, and deep longing to be connected - but at what cost? I empathize with the lived reality of expectation of people who look like me and people who do not. What does honoring myself look like without my culture speaking into my ears about who I should be and how I should attain it? What does honoring myself look like without society and white dominate culture spear heading the conversation and winding what a “good” and “successful” Black woman is / the level to which she may rise and no further when she / if she does?
Just the heaviness, mixed with the walk of grief and learning to grow in your grief and not out of your grief and just — Tracy does that, let’s you into the story and hearts and the kind of these characters as if you wrote them and their stories yourself.
I feel scene and heard in these books in a way I haven’t ever seen a character so richly and powerful adapted. The nuance and the beauty of weaved understandings like, hair styling, the smell of southern grandmothers home cooking, the warmth of an elders hug — to the deeper meanings of shared looks between Alice and Bree when they’re facing an uncomfortable situation that their white peers aren’t coming to terms with as quickly as them — these are things that I felt where written about in a way that invited those who maybe aren’t so quick to notice them in reality, to know and to feel and to recognize just for a moment what it’s like to be Black, specifically a Black woman in a world designed for your utter and deplorable demise of self and expectation of more, success, better.
All this to say. Tracy is out here, once again, healing childhood wounds and empowering me more.
ALSO. TEAM. FREAKIN. SEL. UNTIL. I. DIE.
I laughed. I cried. I just love Bree. I feel so connected to who she is and the struggle and challenge of Black excellence surrounded by people who don’t even want to see you thrive. I empathize with the lived reality of not knowing my heritage and culture to its fullest extent, yet carrying the weight and the burden of my people’s history to its fullest. The weight of lived and unlived experiences, stripped dignity, and deep longing to be connected - but at what cost? I empathize with the lived reality of expectation of people who look like me and people who do not. What does honoring myself look like without my culture speaking into my ears about who I should be and how I should attain it? What does honoring myself look like without society and white dominate culture spear heading the conversation and winding what a “good” and “successful” Black woman is / the level to which she may rise and no further when she / if she does?
Just the heaviness, mixed with the walk of grief and learning to grow in your grief and not out of your grief and just — Tracy does that, let’s you into the story and hearts and the kind of these characters as if you wrote them and their stories yourself.
I feel scene and heard in these books in a way I haven’t ever seen a character so richly and powerful adapted. The nuance and the beauty of weaved understandings like, hair styling, the smell of southern grandmothers home cooking, the warmth of an elders hug — to the deeper meanings of shared looks between Alice and Bree when they’re facing an uncomfortable situation that their white peers aren’t coming to terms with as quickly as them — these are things that I felt where written about in a way that invited those who maybe aren’t so quick to notice them in reality, to know and to feel and to recognize just for a moment what it’s like to be Black, specifically a Black woman in a world designed for your utter and deplorable demise of self and expectation of more, success, better.
All this to say. Tracy is out here, once again, healing childhood wounds and empowering me more.
ALSO. TEAM. FREAKIN. SEL. UNTIL. I. DIE.