The Underground Railroad, by Colson Whitehead ✎✎✎✎


Like a runaway train, Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad swept through 2016 on its way to winning the National Book Award for Fiction. You had to read it so that you knew the construct, the fantastical reimagining of a historical event, the simply gut-wrenching language; so that you could keep up with the conversation.

In Whitehead’s imagination the underground railroad, said to have saved over 30,000 people from slave-holding states, is an actual railroad. Engines, conductors, station agents, tunnels carved from the earth by those who would use them to escape.

The tunnel pulled at her. How many hands had it required to make this place? And the tunnels beyond, wherever and how far they led? She thought of the picking, how it raced down the furrows at harvest, the African bodies working as one, as fast as their strength permitted. The vast fields burst with hundreds of thousands of white bolls, strung like stars in the sky on the clearest of clear nights. When the slaves finished, they had stripped the fields of their color. It was a magnificent operation, from seed to bale, but not one of them could be prideful of their labor. It had been stolen from them. Bled from them. The tunnel, the tracks, the desperate souls who found salvation in the coordination of its stations and timetables – this was a marvel to be proud of. She wondered if those who had built this thing had received their proper reward.

. . .Who are you after you finish something this magnificent—in constructing it you have also journeyed through it, to the other side. On one end there was who you were before you went underground, and on the other end a new person steps out into the light. The up-top world must be so ordinary compared to the miracle beneath, the miracle you made with your sweat and blood. The secret triumph you keep in your heart.

The reader travels the rails and stops with Cora, a young woman imprisoned in slavery on a

Georgia plantation, an orphan, the victim of a brutal rape. When a fellow slave offers Cora the chance to run, at first she declines, then she hesitates and then, she decides to go. The two make it to what initially seems a haven — another imagining of Whitehead where the town population imports “pilgrims” from slavery for nefarious purposes — from which they must run again to another and another. Yet Cora takes refuge in her mind, seeking out knowledge, learning, literature.

What a world it is, Cora thought, that makes a living prison into your only haven. Was she out of bondage or in its web: how to describe the status of a runaway? Freedom was a thing that shifted as you looked at it, the way a forest is dense with trees up close but from outside, from the empty meadow, you see its true limits. Being free had nothing to do with chains or how much space you had. On the plantation, she was not free, but she moved unrestricted on its acres, tasting the air and tracing the summer stars. The place was big in its smallness. Here, she was free of her master but slunk around a warren so tiny she couldn’t stand.

In Juan Gabriel Vasquez’ review for the New York Times, he says: “In a sense, “The Underground Railroad” is Whitehead’s own attempt at getting things right, not by telling us what we already know but by vindicating the powers of fiction to interpret the world. In its exploration of the foundational sins of America, it is a brave and necessary book.”

whitehead-bookThe Underground Railroad is the first work I’ve read by Colson Whitehead, but according to,  he is “[a] recipient of the MacArthur (the so-called genius grant) and Guggenheim fellowships, Whitehead is the author of six previous novels, including “John Henry Days,” a finalist for the Pulitzer Prizeand The New York Times bestseller “Zone One,” a zombie tale set in New York.” Sounds like there is more good stuff out there waiting for me to get to. The Salon article includes an interview with Whitehead about the inspiration for The Underground Railroad. “The idea of ‘what if the underground railroad was actually real,’ is, in many ways, something we picture in elementary school. Yes, it’s fanciful and childish. But it also had many possibilities and that got me thinking about all of this in an active way.”

The Underground Railroad is a beautiful but frequently-tough read, particularly for those who may be more willing to pretend (as I once heard a neighbor say) “all that ugly stuff is over.” In this particular time, Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad may be just the warning bell we need to stay attuned.


When Cora reaches Valentine’s place in Indiana, there is a feast day which includes “hogs . . . chopped on the long pine table and covered dipney sauce. Smoky collards, turnips, sweet potato pie.”

I love watching Top Chef, the current season of which is being filmed in Charleston, S.C. On a recent episode, they mentioned Edna Lewis, (April 13, 1916 – February 13, 2006), an African-American chef and author best known for her books on traditional Southern Cuisine. I’ve got two of her publications on order (back-ordered probably due to others having seen the same show) but I did find her recipe for Spicy Collard Greens on

From my research, “dipney” is a sauce that was mopped on the meat while cooking. Here’s a recipe from a very fun website called the Obsessive Compulsive Barbecue:

And from my grandmother’s cookbook, a recipe for Southern Sweet Potato Pie.

Wash 3 sweet potatoes and bake for 30 minutes until soft. (Don’t microwave incidentally, you can’t get the same texture.) Peel and mash. You need 2 cups of mashed sweet potatoes.

Preheat oven to 425.

Cream 1 cup butter, 1 1/2 cups sugar together and then mix with the mashed potatoes. Add 4 eggs, one at a time, until blended. Mis in 1/2 cup bourbon, the grated rind and juice of 1/2 orange and 1 teaspoon cinnamon. Pour the filling into the pie crust (my grandmother always used Pet-Ritz) and bake for 10 minutes. Turn the heat down to 350 and bake for another 45 minutes until the filling is set (it doesn’t wiggle) and the crust is brown.

Sift with confectioners sugar when cool or serve with a bourbon-whipped cream.


Spirituals would be ideal. I’ve mentioned the American Spiritual Ensemble before, led by the University of Kentucky’s own Dr. Everett McCorvey, and their music certainly would hold up to a discussion of The Underground Railroad.

Read The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead. Remember its lessons as well as its beauty and power and tragedy. colsonwhitehead-erinpatriceo-brien_sq-7c50afdaaa81e8021d312015cea780f25ff42465-s300-c85.jpg


Life After Life, by Jill McCorkle


     Author Jill McCorkle spent the weekend in Lexington, speaking to the Kentucky Women Writer’s Conference and shepherding a group of 16 budding authors through a two-day workshop in how to “find the story.”  I was lucky enough to be among that small group; to sit with, talk with, learn from and laugh with the kind, gently Southern and very talented writer.  She shared with us how she found the story she wrote in Life After Life, a sweetly hopeful and melancholy tale of lives entwined in an assisted care facility.

    Life After Life takes the reader into the Pine Haven retirement center in Fulton, North Carolina:  a refuge for some of the residents and staff and a prison for others.  Rachel Silverman, a transplanted Yankee, stirs many a pot as does retired lawyer Stanley Stone.  Toby and Sadie comfort Abby, the child of a painful marriage, who likes to escape to visit the residents of Pine Haven.  Joanna, an employee of Pine Haven, gathers the stories of the residents in a central point.  Joanna’s mission having been given to her to “make their exits as gentle and loving as possible.”  She does, and thereafter collects the stories of their exits in her journal.

   Ms. McCorkle talked of visiting her own mother in a location similar to that of Pine Haven.  Of the hard truth that so much in such places is simply not nice, but staying in that facility willfully until some glimpse of humor displayed itself.  She mines the truth of the situation for gentle humor throughout Life After Life as well.  But in each life, a little rain must fall and as each residents’  story becomes known, the reader sees the tragedy as well as the comedy.

    One of my favorite characters was the character of Stanley Stone, who is suffering from dementia-turette’s syndrome and plays Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass’ vinyl recording of Whipped Cream “nonstop.”  He has the unfortunate tendency to walk into a room and make the most obscene outbursts.

Whipped-Cream-and-other-Delights-Herb-Alpert“You aren’t queer, are you, son?”  Stanley asked.  “Been a long time since I’ve heard of you getting a piece.”

    During her talk on Friday, Ms. McCorkle read a passage from what she called “Toby’s rant,” that is a good illustration of what the New York Times book review referred to as the “simple, often luminous moments this side of the great divide.”

“I am a human, a woman; I was an English teacher and a bit of an amateur writer myself, but I’ll tell you things went so far off course I just didn’t even know where I was anymore.  I think it was the beginning of the end, too.  What once was generous compassion for high school students with all their angst and crap going on turned into pure agitation and fury.  I didn’t get frustrated by who I am; I got frustrated by what they were reading and wanting to write about.  I said, you’re too smart for all this shit.  Dwarves and wizards and gnomes and vampires — big blue aliens with tails like monkeys.  I said what I wouldn’t give for a good old-fashioned story about somebody losing his or her virginity or getting an abortion — Grandma died and for the first time I knew I was mortal or what about the one where the boy doesn’t want to kill a deer, but Granddaddy makes him so he can be a man.  I was wanting to write something myself and it was dying to get out of my head but couldn’t’ find the door it was all so plugged up with that malarkey.”

    Life After Life offers multiple lives, voices and topics for discussion:  senior care, adultery, dementia, creativity, artistry and of course, aging.  And like Jill McCorkle, you will leave Pine Hurst with a dose of gentle humor to leaven the sorrow.

MENU  hot diggity

    Pine Hurst employee C.J. runs a hot dog stand.  The stand features special like a German Shepherd with onions and sauerkraut.  I can’t stand hot dogs though, blame Upton Sinclair, so I would serve:

Sweet Tea/Bourbon Cocktail

Muddle one sugar cube with 2 oz lemon juice in low ball glass

Add two ounces of tea and two ounces of bourbon

Shake with ice cubes and serve

North Carolina Barbecue 

Baked Potatoes

Sweet Potato Pie — my good friend Denise Smith shared this yummy recipe with me.

1 1/2 cup sweet potatoes

1 1/2 cup sugar

1/2 stick butter, at room temperature

1 egg

1 unbaked pie shell

Preheat oven to 350.  Boil sweet potatoes in large Dutch oven until knife inserted goes through with complete ease.  Peel sweet potatoes as soon as they are cool enough to handle.  Beat in electric mixer until smooth.  Add next 3 ingredients and mix well.  Pour into pie shell and make the top of the mixture as smooth as possible.  Cover with glaze and bake for one hour and ten mites or until pie shell is golden brown.


1 egg

1/2 cup melted butter

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

Beat all ingredients together in electric mixer.  Pour over top of pie.


   Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass!  Whipped Cream.  Actually that album is one of my favorite childhood memories.  I think my mom played it non-stop as well.  Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba . . .


This would be one heck of a tale to tell via film.  But I’ll do my best with a few of my favorite characters:

Stanley Stone:  Clint Eastwood

Rachel Silverman:  Barbra Streisand(!)

Toby:  Dame Judy Dench

Sadie:  Sally Field

Kendra:  Julie Bowen

   Thanks again to Jill McCorkle and happy reading!

mccorkle life