Time to Make Place : A Review of The Yellow House by Sarah M. Broom
A stirred-up heart, like an oyster irritated by sand, can lead to a beautiful creation. In those periods of isolation, agitation, and displacement if we can lean into them and interact with what is happening something beautiful and powerful will rise from within. National Nonfiction Book Award Winner of 2019, Sarah M. Broom, leaned into the unsettled times with all her might and gifted us her personal memoir, The Yellow House.
This nonfiction memoir was crafted by the eager and successful journalist after years of recording family stories. She grew up in a micro neighborhood cleaved from the body of downtown New Orleans. Sometime into her career of headlining articles and investigative pieces, she found herself investigating her own heritage hoping to understand her family’s place in their city’s narrative as well as answer her questions of longing about what place she should call home. A natural at making home for herself and others, Broom’s talent required a hefty price of moving around in search of the place that felt right. Her searching years are documented in her meticulous journalism style and became the final version of her story, The Yellow House.
There are two overarching categories of memoirs and autobiographies. The first, is the collective composition which serves readers relatable content, retells emotional experiences, and gives language for the audience to use about their own experience. Examples of this type are stories of people battling disease or chronic pain, overcoming personal hardships to achieve a goal, or comedic dramas that alleviate the tension from uncontrollable circumstances.
The second category, is the larger than life story. A memoir or autobiography of this type are most powerful when it comes from the person who experienced it all. Their recounting will ever be a description only scratching the surface of what happened because what they experienced is rare, extreme, and shattering to our code of normal. Memoirs like this are battle stories, intense abuse recovery narratives, or tales of survival. They are often described as fascinating or horrible and can make the best seller list if the details are rich enough for the reader to dig their teeth into.
Broom’s book lands squarely in the second category for two reasons. One, it was her intention. Nearing the last pages, Broom states her intentions for investigating her family’s history and sharing their story with the public. She writes, “I wanted, I wrote in my notebook, not to avert my eyes.”
The Soule and Broom narrative is not easy to listen to, look at (she includes several family photos damaged by Hurricane Katrina), and endure. Which of course presents the question, what about those in the family, how did they fare?
To try and relate to a larger than life story, if the experience is not mirrored in your own life, dulls the gravity of the situation. And a good writer, of their own narrative, does not intend for you to relate on their level. They want you to listen and understand their circumstances are unmatched. Sarah M. Broom accomplishes this very well in The Yellow House. Her brothers swam through the risen waters of Hurricane Katrina to safety, her whole family of eleven siblings was displaced from New Orleans ever after 2005, years passed before her mother was awarded retribution for her house being demolished without permission, and she worked in what would become one of the most corrupt political offices in US history. Her line up of situations cannot be mimicked in any one other lifetime.
Broom could not write a relatable story because the Storm and its natural, political, emotional, and lasting elements was not relatable. The swirled together circumstances of Hurricane Katrina were larger than life. And Broom uses her own memoir in the wake of the ten-year anniversary to punctuate this fact. Other natural disasters and towns overturned by corrupt mayors and large families scattered by unforeseen events individually do not add up to the damage of the Water in New Orleans.
When reading Broom’s carefully curated story, pause and just listen to her tell it. Do not think I know what you feel. Do not wonder if these events will ever happen to you. Do not fact check her on Google. I advise you on this because these are all mistakes I made while reading. I tried to categorize this seismic story, but I could not; They Yellow House is in a class all its own. And that is what makes it good literature.
When listening to Broom’s interviews one is impressed with her passion for what she calls the “Absent Presences” or marginalized stories. As a journalist she focuses in on the details to draw in readers to see what she sees and know what she knows. This book is deserving of its many awards and recognition. Still it was difficult for me to enjoy. The style was more like a nonfiction than a memoir and at times I felt schooled on New Orleans history and city planning and state legislation. Just as where Broom is talented and trained in this genre, she will attract the readers who enjoy this style. I am prompted to recommend this book as a pickup to read if you are interested in a hyper focused narrative covering pre-Storm city dynamics and post flooding fallout through the perspectives of one large family.
Sarah Broom did well by her family and their pride in her written legacy is evident. Through her new book, she reminds us how we too should value our worthwhile stories and turn them into treasures for others to be in awe of.
Books similar in nature to The Yellow House can be purchased through these links. Hope one catches your eye!
