This was an interesting book to read, because of the clashing reality of that reading experience.
On one hand, I could see the book’s goals, and agreed with them. Celebrating and articulating the spirit of justice that moves through African American history from the Africa to today. The battles for national liberty (the American Revolution), the battle against slavery, the Civil War, fighting against segregation and then for Civil Rights: all of these are unified in the book by a single spirit of justice.
The images are unified, and well-designed on a large scale: they communicate a broad sweep of action, collective identity, and shared vision.
However—and here comes the conflict—there is no conflict in the book. It is all historical/ethical lesson. There’s also no individualization. The book succeeding at creating a shared identity came at the price of minimizing, even removing, all distinction. As a result, I found myself not believing in a book I completely agreed with…and not caring much about it, even though I wanted to.
