Take a photo of a barcode or cover
Perhaps unorthodox, but I really must preface this review with a warning - If you have a hard time reading about children enduring trauma, then you should take pause before reading this book. I first read [b:Push|71332|Push|Sapphire|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1414633395l/71332._SY75_.jpg|69081] when I was a teenager, and really could not handle the level of explicit horror that Precious Jones and her friends endure. Initially, I picked it up because I loved Gabourey Sidibe’s performance in the movie adaptation (she’s a genius), but the book takes the violence to another level I’m glad they did not portray in the film.
That said, I (surprisingly) felt compelled to re-read this book a decade later as an adult, in large part, because I finally read Toni Morrison’s [b:The Bluest Eye|11337|The Bluest Eye|Toni Morrison|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388208495l/11337._SX50_.jpg|1987778] and the character of Pecola kept bringing me back to Precious. Both girls are the victims of incest, impregnated as children, and go for far too long without even a modicum of kindness or care. These young girls have to deal with problems most adults could not even begin to fathom (myself included), and are left feeling worthless and loveless in ways no child should ever feel.
It should be noted that Sapphire wrote Push as a more realistic response to Alice Walker’s [b:The Color Purple|11486|The Color Purple|Alice Walker|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1556348375l/11486._SY75_.jpg|3300573]. It even comes up in the book, with Precious lamenting how Celie’s struggle wraps up so nice and neat; she is left wondering what that means for her, her self-worth, and her future—especially when circumstances go from worse to relentlessly worse before they begin to get even a little bit better. Ultimately though, I felt drawn to re-read Push almost as a way to heal from The Bluest Eye, because for all the horror Precious does endure, she does receive help and love and assistance in ways that Pecola never really does. This story is also told from Precious' perspective as she learns to both write and process her trauma, instilling in her a powerful form of cathartic agency.
Even when well-written, it’s hard to “love” books about children enduring trauma, but like The Bluest Eye, Push was written with purpose and represents an often-overlooked story that deserves to be told and shared. Now that I have a stronger internal constitution, I can say that I appreciate Sapphire’s work in a way I was simply was not old enough to process when I first read it. I do now recommend it, but with that big warning, because this one is most certainly not for the faint of heart.
That said, I (surprisingly) felt compelled to re-read this book a decade later as an adult, in large part, because I finally read Toni Morrison’s [b:The Bluest Eye|11337|The Bluest Eye|Toni Morrison|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388208495l/11337._SX50_.jpg|1987778] and the character of Pecola kept bringing me back to Precious. Both girls are the victims of incest, impregnated as children, and go for far too long without even a modicum of kindness or care. These young girls have to deal with problems most adults could not even begin to fathom (myself included), and are left feeling worthless and loveless in ways no child should ever feel.
It should be noted that Sapphire wrote Push as a more realistic response to Alice Walker’s [b:The Color Purple|11486|The Color Purple|Alice Walker|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1556348375l/11486._SY75_.jpg|3300573]. It even comes up in the book, with Precious lamenting how Celie’s struggle wraps up so nice and neat; she is left wondering what that means for her, her self-worth, and her future—especially when circumstances go from worse to relentlessly worse before they begin to get even a little bit better. Ultimately though, I felt drawn to re-read Push almost as a way to heal from The Bluest Eye, because for all the horror Precious does endure, she does receive help and love and assistance in ways that Pecola never really does. This story is also told from Precious' perspective as she learns to both write and process her trauma, instilling in her a powerful form of cathartic agency.
Even when well-written, it’s hard to “love” books about children enduring trauma, but like The Bluest Eye, Push was written with purpose and represents an often-overlooked story that deserves to be told and shared. Now that I have a stronger internal constitution, I can say that I appreciate Sapphire’s work in a way I was simply was not old enough to process when I first read it. I do now recommend it, but with that big warning, because this one is most certainly not for the faint of heart.