The Cursed Ground (Zora and Me Series)

The Cursed Ground (Zora and Me Series)

by T. R. Simon
The Cursed Ground (Zora and Me Series)

The Cursed Ground (Zora and Me Series)

by T. R. Simon

eBook

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Overview

A powerful fictionalized account of Zora Neale Hurston’s childhood adventures explores the idea of collective memory and the lingering effects of slavery.

“History ain’t in a book, especially when it comes to folks like us. History is in the lives we lived and the stories we tell each other about those lives.”

When Zora Neale Hurston and her best friend, Carrie Brown, discover that the town mute can speak after all, they think they’ve uncovered a big secret. But Mr. Polk’s silence is just one piece of a larger puzzle that stretches back half a century to the tragic story of an enslaved girl named Lucia. As Zora’s curiosity leads a reluctant Carrie deeper into the mystery, the story unfolds through alternating narratives. Lucia’s struggle for freedom resonates through the years, threatening the future of America’s first incorporated black township — the hometown of author Zora Neale Hurston (1891–1960). In a riveting coming-of-age tale, award-winning author T. R. Simon champions the strength of a people to stand up for justice.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780763699635
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Publication date: 09/11/2018
Series: Zora and Me Series
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Lexile: 840L (what's this?)
File size: 2 MB
Age Range: 10 - 14 Years

About the Author

T. R. Simon is the co-author, with Victoria Bond, of the 2011 John Steptoe New Talent Author Award winner Zora and Me. She is also the co-author, with Richard Simon, of Oskar and the Eight Blessings, illustrated by Mark Siegel and winner of the National Jewish Book Award for Children’s Literature. T. R. Simon lives in Westchester County, New York.

Read an Excerpt

PROLOGUE  

There are two kinds of memory. One is the ordinary kind, rooted in things that happened, people you  knew,  and  places  you went. I remember my father this way: laughing, picking me up, singing lullabies in his gentle bass. I see him swinging my mother in a half circle, the hem of her blue skirt flying up to show the rough white thread she used for mending, like a bed of stars along a ridge. The second kind of memory is rooted in the things you live with, the land you live on, the history of where you belong. You tend not to notice it, much less think about it, but it seeps into you, grows its long roots down into the richest soil of your living mind. Because most of us pay this second kind of memory no mind, the people who do talk about it seem to   us superstitious or even crazy. But they aren’t. The power of that memory is equal to any of the memories we make ourselves, because it represents our collective being, the soul of a place.

After losing my father, after nursing myself to sleep nights on end with glimpses of the past with him, I was well enough acquainted with the first kind of memory. But by twelve I was still too young to pay much mind to the memories held by the town we lived in, by Eatonville itself.

That all changed the night we found Mr. Polk, his blood soaking into the earth. When I look back, I wonder how it had never before occurred to me that Eatonville, America’s first incorporated colored town, might have a history that stretched back beyond its name and my twelve years. How could I have thought our town began with Teddy, Zora, and me, that it had just opened into the infinite present of our young lives? In fact, we were living out Eatonville’s history as blindly as pawns in a century-old chess game. We were no more new or free than the land itself, but like all young people, we confused our youth with beginning and our experience with knowledge. It wasn’t until that night — when we heard the town mute speak to the town conjure woman — that Zora and I began to forge a real connection with the land, a connection that let us know ourselves through a past we hadn’t lived but was inside us all the same.

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