Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
OK
Audible sample Sample
If Beale Street Could Talk Paperback – October 10, 2006
Purchase options and add-ons
"One of the best books Baldwin has ever written—perhaps the best of all." —The Philadelphia Inquirer
Told through the eyes of Tish, a nineteen-year-old girl, in love with Fonny, a young sculptor who is the father of her child, Baldwin’s story mixes the sweet and the sad. Tish and Fonny have pledged to get married, but Fonny is falsely accused of a terrible crime and imprisoned. Their families set out to clear his name, and as they face an uncertain future, the young lovers experience a kaleidoscope of emotions—affection, despair, and hope. In a love story that evokes the blues, where passion and sadness are inevitably intertwined, Baldwin has created two characters so alive and profoundly realized that they are unforgettably ingrained in the American psyche.
- Print length197 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherVintage
- Publication dateOctober 10, 2006
- Dimensions7.9 x 5.1 x 0.6 inches
- ISBN-100307275930
- ISBN-13978-0307275936
The Amazon Book Review
Book recommendations, author interviews, editors' picks, and more. Read it now.
Frequently bought together
Similar items that may deliver to you quickly
Get to know this book
What's it about?
A young Black woman's life is upended when her lover is falsely accused of a crime, in this poignant and timeless love story by a celebrated author.Popular highlight
Neither love nor terror makes one blind: indifference makes one blind.1,248 Kindle readers highlighted thisPopular highlight
One of the most terrible, most mysterious things about a life is that a warning can be heeded only in retrospect: too late.996 Kindle readers highlighted thisPopular highlight
I hope that nobody has ever had to look at anybody they love through glass.917 Kindle readers highlighted this
From the Publisher
|
|
|
---|---|---|
|
|
|
Editorial Reviews
Review
"A moving, painful story, so vividly human and so obviously based on reality that it strikes us as timeless.” —Joyce Carol Oates
"If Van Gogh was our nineteenth-century artist-saint, James Baldwin is our twentiethth-century one." —Michael Ondaatje
"Striking and particularly haunting.... A beauty, especially in its rendering of youthful passion." —Cosmopolitan
"A major work of Black American fiction.... His best novel yet, even Baldwin's most devoted readers are due to be stunned by it." —The New Republic
"Emotional dynamite.... A powerful assault upon the cynicism that seems today to drain our determination to confront deep social problems." —Library Journal
"A moving, painful story, so vividly human and so obviously based on reality that it strikes us as timeless." —The New York Times Book Review
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
I look at myself in the mirror. I know that I was christened Clementine, and so it would make sense if people called me Clem, or even, come to think of it, Clementine, since that's my name: but they don't. People call me Tish. I guess that makes sense, too. I'm tired, and I'm beginning to think that maybe everything that happens makes sense. Like, if it didn't make sense, how could it happen? But that's really a terrible thought. It can only come out of trouble--trouble that doesn't make sense.
Today, I went to see Fonny. That's not his name, either, he was christened Alonzo: and it might make sense if people called him Lonnie. But, no, we've always called him Fonny. Alonzo Hunt, that's his name. I've known him all my life, and I hope I'll always know him. But I only call him Alonzo when I have to break down some real heavy shit to him.
Today, I said, "--Alonzo--?"
And he looked at me, that quickening look he has when I call him by his name.
He's in jail. So where we were, I was sitting on a bench in front of a board, and he was sitting on a bench in front of a board. And we were facing each other through a wall of glass between us. You can't hear anything through this glass, and so you both have a little telephone. You have to talk through that. I don't know why people always look down when they talk through a telephone, but they always do. You have to remember to look up at the person you're talking to.
I always remember now, because he's in jail and I love his eyes and every time I see him I'm afraid I'll never see him again. So I pick up the phone as soon as I get there and I just hold it and I keep looking up at him.
So, when I said, "--Alonzo--?" he looked down and then he looked up and he smiled and he held the phone and he waited.
I hope that nobody has ever had to look at anybody they love through glass.
And I didn't say it the way I meant to say it. I meant to say it in a very offhand way, so he wouldn't be too upset, so he'd understand that I was saying it without any kind of accusation in my heart.
You see: I know him. He's very proud, and he worries a lot, and, when I think about it, I know--he doesn't--that that's the biggest reason he's in jail. He worries too much already, I don't want him to worry about me. In fact, I didn't want to say what I had to say. But I knew I had to say it. He had to know.
And I thought, too, that when he got over being worried, when he was lying by himself at night, when he was all by himself, in the very deepest part of himself, maybe, when he thought about it, he'd be glad. And that might help him.
I said, "Alonzo, we're going to have a baby."
I looked at him. I know I smiled. His face looked as though it were plunging into water. I couldn't touch him. I wanted so to touch him. I smiled again and my hands got wet on the phone and then for a moment I couldn't see him at all and I shook my head and my face was wet and I said, "I'm glad. I'm glad. Don't you worry. I'm glad."
But he was far away from me now, all by himself. I waited for him to come back. I could see it flash across his face: my baby? I knew that he would think that. I don't mean that he doubted me: but a man thinks that. And for those few seconds while he was out there by himself, away from me, the baby was the only real thing in the world, more real than the prison, more real than me.
I should have said already: we're not married. That means more to him than it does to me, but I understand how he feels. We were going to get married, but then he went to jail.
Fonny is twenty-two. I am nineteen.
He asked the ridiculous question: "Are you sure?"
"No. I ain't sure. I'm just trying to mess with your mind."
Then he grinned. He grinned because, then, he knew.
"What we going to do?" he asked me--just like a little boy.
"Well, we ain't going to drown it. So, I guess we'll have to raise it."
Fonny threw back his head, and laughed, he laughed till tears come down his face. So, then, I felt that the first part, that I'd been so frightened of, would be all right.
"Did you tell Frank?" he asked me.
Frank is his father.
I said, "Not yet."
"You tell your folks?"
"Not yet. But don't worry about them. I just wanted to tell you first."
"Well," he said, "I guess that makes sense. A baby."
He looked at me, then he looked down. "What you going to do, for real?"
"I'm going to do just like I been doing. I'll work up to just about the last month. And then, Mama and Sis will take care for me, you ain't got to worry. And anyway we have you out of here before then."
"You sure about that?" With his little smile.
"Of course I'm sure about that. I'm always sure about that."
I knew what he was thinking, but I can't let myself think about it--not now, watching him. I must be sure.
The man came up behind Fonny, and it was time to go. Fonny smiled and raised his fist, like always, and I raised mine and he stood up. I'm always kind of surprised when I see him in here, at how tall he is. Of course, he's lost weight and that may make him seem taller.
He turned around and went through the door and the door closed behind him.
I felt dizzy. I hadn't eaten much all day, and now it was getting late.
I walked out, to cross these big, wide corridors I've come to hate, corridors wider than all the Sahara desert. The Sahara is never empty; these corridors are never empty. If you cross the Sahara, and you fall, by and by vultures circle around you, smelling, sensing, your death. They circle lower and lower: they wait. They know. They know exactly when the flesh is ready, when the spirit cannot fight back. The poor are always crossing the Sahara. And the lawyers and bondsmen and all that crowd circle around the poor, exactly like vultures. Of course, they're not any richer than the poor, really, that's why they've turned into vultures, scavengers, indecent garbage men, and I'm talking about the black cats, too, who, in so many ways, are worse. I think that, personally, I would be ashamed. But I've had to think about it and now I think that maybe not. I don't know what I wouldn't do to get Fonny out of jail. I've never come across any shame down here, except shame like mine, except the shame of the hardworking black ladies, who call me Daughter, and the shame of proud Puerto Ricans, who don't understand what's happened--no one who speaks to them speaks Spanish, for example--and who are ashamed that they have loved ones in jail. But they are wrong to be ashamed. The people responsible for these jails should be ashamed.
And I'm not ashamed of Fonny. If anything, I'm proud. He's a man. You can tell by the way he's taken all this shit that he's a man. Sometimes, I admit, I'm scared--because nobody can take the shit they throw on us forever. But, then, you just have to somehow fix your mind to get from one day to the next. If you think too far ahead, if you even try to think too far ahead, you'll never make it.
Sometimes I take the subway home, sometimes I take the bus. Today, I took the bus because it takes a little longer and I had a lot on my mind.
Product details
- Publisher : Vintage; Reprint edition (October 10, 2006)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 197 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0307275930
- ISBN-13 : 978-0307275936
- Item Weight : 6.8 ounces
- Dimensions : 7.9 x 5.1 x 0.6 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #19,772 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #430 in Black & African American Urban Fiction (Books)
- #767 in Family Life Fiction (Books)
- #2,171 in Literary Fiction (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
James Baldwin (1924-1987) was a novelist, essayist, playwright, poet, and social critic, and one of America's foremost writers. His essays, such as "Notes of a Native Son" (1955), explore palpable yet unspoken intricacies of racial, sexual, and class distinctions in Western societies, most notably in mid-twentieth-century America. A Harlem, New York, native, he primarily made his home in the south of France.
His novels include Giovanni's Room (1956), about a white American expatriate who must come to terms with his homosexuality, and Another Country (1962), about racial and gay sexual tensions among New York intellectuals. His inclusion of gay themes resulted in much savage criticism from the black community. Going to Meet the Man (1965) and Tell Me How Long the Train's Been Gone (1968) provided powerful descriptions of American racism. As an openly gay man, he became increasingly outspoken in condemning discrimination against lesbian and gay people.
Photo by Allan warren (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons.
Customer reviews
Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.
To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. It also analyzed reviews to verify trustworthiness.
Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonReviews with images
-
Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
In the early 21st century, this story has become familiar enough. Tish, the young, Black first-person narrator, is pregnant with the child of her lifelong love, Fonny, who has been unjustly imprisoned for the rape of a Puerto Rican woman. As Tish and her family band together to free Fonny, institutionalized racism, economic inequality, and social oppression (not to mention members of Fonny’s own family) conspire to keep the young lovers apart.
Baldwin’s prose is by turns lyrical, minimalist, imagistic, and brutally violent. He orchestrates his diction with sublime precision; therefore, I must presume that there is some artistic justification for having Tish narrate scenes (such as Fonny’s private conversations with his friend Daniel, Fonny’s experiences in prison, and her mother’s ordeal in Puerto Rico as she attempts to track down the rape victim) that she could not have possibly witnessed. That stylistic quibble aside, I cannot recall another book this brief (fewer than 200 pages) that permeates with such intensity and insight.
I will also note that the audiobook for this is fantastic, it is read by Bahni Turpen, who is one of my absolute favorite narrators, and she brings the characters to life in your ears, making the story even more emotional than it already is.
The story as a whole is a necessary one— there were many emotions that it stirred up in me, and I haven’t read many books lately that can manage to make me feel so much all in one. This is a pretty short book, and the fact that I felt so strongly for Tish, Fonny, Sharon, Ernestine, Joseph, Frank, and even some of the barely-there side characters, is the work of a true master.
A particular note I feel I must make: Tish has one of the most remarkable, supportive families I’ve ever read in literature. I love her mother. I love her sister. I love her father. The lengths they go to (or would go to) for each other is profoundly moving. I fear for them, and I want to hope for them. Everything in the story felt so based-in-reality, and that's frightening, because you want to see your beloved characters overcome and be happy, but the circumstances of life don't always raise you up so much as saddle to your back a conveyor belt of tribulations. And even after EVERYTHING, the language of the novel is a hopeful one: the final message is not one of despair, but resilience.
James Baldwin has created a world full of saints and monsters, that also just so happens to be a ‘far-from-simply-fiction’ 1970’s New York. It is at once both a terrible reality— a reminder of ignorance, hate, and injustice— and a life-affirming look at love, family, and hope.
Top reviews from other countries
I was really scared at first about "the rape" part, this type of subject can be "dangerous"; but here it's fine
so I did like this book and I would recommend it
रस निष्पत्ति - शृंगार🥰, करुण😪(in readers)
भाव निर्मिति - रति🥰, शोक😪( in characters)
"I love soppy love stories, the trauma, the palpable fear, the unsaid desires, yet the audacious lovers"
"But how can that be comforting"
"Not sure about that, but it's liberating"
A casual conversation at Clubhouse proved so valuable, that it finally helped me realize why I love the books I love
Just the exact way to sum up my journey with this one coz stories like these are so grounded into reality
Maybe a first where the Rasa expressed by characters truly mimicked the bhav of the reader in me.
Seamless, untangled cord bounded together with love at one end & despair at other, then muddling it all in a moment, taking away all the calm
A stirring story narrated in flashbacks by 19 yr old pregnant Tish, whose boyfriend Fonny, has been wrongly accused for a rape case. Case where not the crime but color of person decides the fate
Even though the victim was not sure about who committed the crime, even though there is no evidence suggesting his presence at the crime scene, yet he was already convicted
The novel brings in a fine amalgamation of America's systemic racial delineation, orthodox religious belief systems
Will Tish & her family's love be enough to fight, from Fonny's dysfunctional family to the Biased Judiciary system
Author has championed his belief through love. The plot hits you through this veil of love, dissecting the boundaries of casteism, class system
His near to perfect prose has kept the balance between the love & cause. Little moments of childhood intimacy written parallely to trauma of rape victim creates that humane side
I had read Fortune men by Nadifa Mohammed last year. Though the aim for both the writers seems to be the same but I found Fortune men a story with lost cause, a story without hope
Whereas the master storyteller Baldwin knows just where to pull the cords, thus forming hopeful connect b/w narrative & readers
The path he creates is not easy to tread, you question the sanity of characters yet you want to walk this walk
El paquete llegó a tiempo y en perfecto estado