The Help by Kathryn Stockett

 

 

The HELP…is the story of the three African American maids working in white households in Jackson, Mississippi during the early 1960s.

The novel is told from the perspective of three characters:

 

 

 

Aibileen Clark, a middle-aged African-American maid who has spent her life raising white children and who has recently lost her only son.

Minny Jackson, an African-American maid whose offensive behavior towards her employers exacerbates her desperate need for work as well as her family’s struggle with money.

Eugenia “Skeeter” Phelan, a young white woman and recent college graduate who, after moving back home, discovers that a maid that she has known since childhood has mysteriously disappeared.

 

 

About the Author:

Kathryn Stockett was born and raised in Jackson, Mississippi. After graduating from the University of Alabama with a degree in English and Creative Writing, she moved to New York City where she worked in magazine publishing and marketing for nine years. She currently lives in Atlanta with her family. 

The Help is her first novel. 

http://www.kathrynstockett.com

Advertisements

1 thought on “The Help by Kathryn Stockett”

  1. R. David Ware said:

    Let me confess that I did not read the book because I had not heard of it. I did, however, see the movie. As the son of a “domestic” I can say that the portrayals were fairly accurate. Although, no movie, novel or song, can accurately portray the pain of being treated like chattel or the indignity of perpetual disrespect, the movie comes pretty close to capturing the mood if not the emotion. My only problem with the movie was the “pie” scenes. What my mother and others like her did was have the superior nobility NOT to strike back, not to exact revenge and not to mimic the porous character of those they served. It does all of them a disservice to give the impression that even one of them would stoop to such crass payback. What my mother and those others like her knew was that each day you silently accepted the harsh taste of inequity, the sweeter the aftertaste of knowing you are morally superior to those whose only entitlement to their status was based on epidermis.

    On behalf of my mother, thank you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s