An enslaved Black girl in antebellum New Orleans joins a female spy network against the Confederates.
The impulse toward freedom is ingrained in Ady, born in slavery to her mother Sanite, who spent part of her own childhood in a runaways’ settlement. When Ady is 10, she and her mother are sold to the vulpine John du Marche, who’s living his best 1850s life as a decadent businessman and political insider in the French Quarter. Sanite provides her daughter with a taste of freedom as they escape from du Marche, making camp in the outlying woods. It isn’t long before they’re returned to their master and Sanite dies from scarlet fever. Ady’s customary high spirits are laid low by grief, melancholy, and fear until she becomes friends with another African American she at first knows only as “the Free Woman.” Lenore owns a racially integrated establishment in the French Quarter called the Mockingbird Inn, with “the strong pleasant scent” of “lemons, sawdust, cloves, beer, and warm bread.” Inspired by seeing Lenore compel a gang of slave hunters to leave the Mockingbird, Ady seeks employment there as a helper on those occasions when she can get away from du Marche’s manse. She soon learns that Lenore and other women are working as a far-flung spy network to subvert the emerging Confederacy. Ady later finds out that the network has a name: “the Daughters.” (“In honor of our mothers,” Lenore tells her.) As Ady and the other “Daughters” covertly wreak havoc in various ways, the novel becomes all at once a high adventure, a revealing history, and a chronicle of one woman’s self-realization. Ruffin also displays some of the cunning imagination and caustic wit he showed in his previous work—most recently We Cast a Shadow (2019)—by interspersing his narrative with imagined transcripts from the past, present, and even the future.
Black women as agents—literally—of their own liberation. Who wouldn’t be inspired?