Nonetheless, Wilkerson is clearly an author to watch. And while the island-born characters introduced in the 'Then' part of the book are deliciously larger than life, with outsized talents, shortcomings, and powers of self-reinvention, the backstories and concerns of the 'Now' characters feel consciously assembled to touch bases of gender and racial identity, domestic abuse, political consciousness, climate change, etc. You want to be tapping your toe with suspense, not fraying patience. But the pacing is overly slowed by endless lingering inside the heads of characters recapping, reviewing, and agonizing over their predicaments. The complex plotting of this novel, unfurling over decades and continents, and the careful pacing of its reveals, often in very short, almost epigrammatic chapters, are enticing. The threads connecting the alternating sections of the book, 'Then' and 'Now,' are many, and tangled, and somehow just keep getting more complicated as the pages roll by. Estranged for years, they resist, asking for a copy to take home, but their mother's lawyer (who also seems to be grieving) says their mother was very specific, telling them, 'There are things your mother wanted you to hear right away, things you need to know.' Are there ever. (She is, however, a very good swimmer.) In Southern California in 2018, Byron and his sister, Benny, are called to listen to an audio file their mother spent days making for them.

On an unnamed island in 1965, a bride throws herself into the ocean after her much older gangster husband drops dead at their wedding reception and is never again seen in her village. Siblings called together after their mother's death learn that almost everything they know about their Caribbean-born parents is a lie.

The book black cake