What Secret Asian Girl is (Finally) Reading: The Help

After two attempts, and threatened by a 400+ customer waiting list, I finally checked out The Help by Katherine Stockett,...and read it. No reason not to, other than being too busy. Once I got into it, it only took me a few days. No surprise that I really liked it. It's not the best historical fiction novel I've ever read, but it was easily read and emotional without being weepy. I did cry during the movie, which closely followed the book, only leaving out a few side stories. I love the plight of the underdog and, with a few exceptions, there's no more trod upon than the African-American woman, especially pre-1970. This is a story about strong women, both black and white, who had the courage to go against the tide, fearing not only the wrath of their fellow citizens but also the disdain of their peers. Although the heroism of this story is often aimed at Aibileen, the nose-to-the-grindstone maid who found strength in just taking one step forward each day after the death of her son, or Minnie, the smart-mouthed maid who struggled with knowing when to stop talking back or Skeeter, the reluctant Southern belle who saw injustice and dared to speak of it, I saw the most courage elsewhere. The bravest character, to me, was Celia Foote, a woman who, unlike the others, didn't enjoy the comfort of fitting in anywhere, but who continued to stand at the door of the party hoping to be invited in. While the others found sympathy in their friends or at home, Celia stood alone in her hooker clothes and fake boobs, not really sure why she was shunned. In the end, Celia became a stronger woman while losing the least. I closed the last page on this book wondering what happened to Skeeter and the others as the 1960's ended. The rest of the world changed but, as so often happens, not for those whose lives might be affected most. I'm also surprised at how white people have embraced this book, since it paints a not-so-flattering picture of how some attitudes were - and, in my opinion, continue to be. As a woman living in the South, I still see women who won't change their hairstyle without the expressed permission of their husband, or who decline lunch invitations because they have to rush home to fix a meal for their spouse. I'm curious about those women, and why they devalue themselves or need permission from someone else to live their lives. I can't decide if I'm more a Skeeter, who is unafraid to write what I think or a Minnie who speaks before thinking. Probably a combination of both. The fact that both these women can even be thought of as combined is a testament to how far we've come...and how far we have yet to go. I'd like to think I share both but I will tell you this: I have never burned my chicken.