Now the danger of finally reading something you've been looking forward to for many years is that it will inevitably disappoint, as with new novels of authors you love (again, looking at you, Sally Rooney). It all depends on how high your expectations are. With The Help, I knew the novel took place in one of the Southern US states in the middle of the last century, centered on a group of black workers and a white journalist who wanted to record their stories. I also knew that it had been made into a film with Emma Stone and Ocatvia Spencer, two of my favourite actrices. But that was it.
My expectations were wrong on some accounts. The Help is set in the middle of the 1960s, a time which at least in my mind is not as black-and-white, not as segregated, as the story promised to be. But history is uglier than that; although this is a work of fiction, the truth of the social norms and struggle of those who did not fit the white hierarchy shines through the lines. This not only goes for the black female workers; all the white women in the novel are marginalised as well, expected to marry and take their place in the house, busying themselves with their children and their charities. As if they are from a Jane Austen novel.
And these women for the most part are happy to conform to that norm, like prototype soccer moms. They are not fighting for social change, they are only fighting to keep their own superior position. The delicious irony of those white women, working against rights for their help, but at the same time raising money for the 'poor starving children of Africa' goes right over the heads of the characters and right into the heart of the reader.
Now the 60s were a time of social upheaval. Rosa Parks is mentioned offhandendly. The march on Washington and 'I have a dream speech' by Martin Luther King are discussed, as is Kennedy's assassination. But although important moments, they do not have an immediate effect. Events that we, looking back from their future, see as momentous moments of change, were seen in passing by those living through them. They were busy living their lives. The publisher tells Skeeter to hurry up with her writing, before all the attention on civil rights will die out again and their book won't sell. Those living through the change do not see it.
All this is a roundabout way of saying that this book is not about social change, it is about people. For those women, the white society ladies, the black help, the fancy publisher, they are the heart of this book. And they are so much more than their labels, there is so much nuance in these characters. Yes, Skeeter is the one who writes the book, but as we discover from the testimonies, several other white ladies support their black help through times of trouble, without breathing a word about this to their female friends. Yes, Minny is one of the forfighters, but she is afraid of her husband and doesn't want her kids to fight for civil rights. She cannot seem to stop herself, both when doing good as when she is vindictive to her former employer, but all that bravado disappears in the presence of her abusive husband. And then there is Aibileen, tying the story and the community together. In the film she became the sole narrator, which I think took away for the myriad of perspectives and voices of the novel. But she is the steady, loyal, caring, strong heart of the story. And although she seems to love the little white girl in her care desparately, she is her own person, with more backbone than anyone would expect.
It is so easy to fall back on stereotypes. To rewrite both history and people as more black and white than they were. In The Help, you can find people (mostly women, but some men) in all shapes, sizes and varieties, in all shades of grey. Apart from the plot, which is nice in itself but sometimes a little bit too present, it is the characters who make this story so worthwhile.
In the end, my expectations certainly weren't too high; this book is among the best and deserves all the awards it got. I'm just sorry I didn't read it sooner.
