Book Review: Call Your Daughters Home

Marlita Walker Reviews

CALL YOUR DAUGHTER HOME

BY DEB SPERA

“Polite make-believe is weary business, and there is no one better at it than Southerners.”

Having lived through four years of college life under the blistering sun and continual frizzy-haired humidity of South Carolina, I could identify with the Branchville, SC setting of Deb Spera’s inaugural novel. In the first weeks of getting acclimated to a new southern culture, a new grueling schedule, and new uncertain attempts at friendship, my most vivid memories are of the loneliness and homesickness I felt. Had I dared mention those feelings to my far away mom on my weekly calls, my guess is that she would have “called her daughter home,” but…she never knew. Several decades later, when my husband and I were burned out from ministry in another state, my mother did have the chance to “call us home.” She lovingly cared for our family as we tried to sort out our lives. Her delight in having us close was evident.

In various ways, the three fierce protagonists in this compelling story are on a long, arduous journey, coming to grips with their broken relationships with their daughters. Each of these women takes turns speaking their thoughts in the unfolding chapters, giving us a clear picture of how the Boll Weevil Infestation of 1915 led to this situation of poverty and hopelessness in 1924, just before the Great Depression. Business owner Annie is the matriarch of the influential Coles family, and she is clueless as to why her daughters left home and refuse to communicate with her. Retta is a first-generation free slave who untiringly manages Annie’s large home while grieving for her long-dead daughter, Esther. Downtrodden Gertrude has lived in unspeakable squalor with her abusive husband and four daughters, who seldom see love and tenderness from this hardened mama. The lives of these resilient women intersect, and though their characters and experiences are vastly different, they discover that their commonalities as “sisters” transcend understanding; they positively influence one another.

Retta’s humanity and compassion deeply touched my heart as she gathers hurting people under her wing, nurses Gertrude’s daughter back from near-death, and unselfishly serves as midwife to all who need her. She refuses to dismiss the people that God brings into her sphere, even though her friends and neighbors are disdainful. In a particularly poignant scene where I finally understood the significance of the book title, Retta is valiantly assisting a young Indian friend, Nelly, in delivering her first baby. “Mama used to say to all the womenfolk, ‘Call out to your child, what is his name?’ And the women would call his name.” With this complicated breech birth delivery, Retta commands Nelly, “Call out to your daughter. Call her home.” The tenderness of this exchange struck me as I realized the depth of the ties between daughters and mothers from the very first moment we set eyes upon them.

Most moms have experienced that strong tie at various times in their lives. In her third year of college, my daughter struggled with bulimia. It was a horrific year with a controlling boyfriend, an unsuccessful soccer experience, and the unremitting deadlines of coursework. As summer was approaching, she accepted a nanny position; but in lengthy phone conversations, she admitted that it was a less than ideal situation with a rather demanding boss-mother. The mother heart in me knew that this beautiful daughter of mine needed the healing touch of home. So, I “called my daughter home” to love her, affirm her, laugh with her, offer rest, offer acceptance, and banish anxiety. It was a summer of restoration and refreshment for her. It was a summer of relief and hope for me.

As moms, just like Annie, Retta, and Gertrude, our greatest desire is to have good relationships with our daughters and sons. That sometimes means allowing them to figure things out on their own; at other times, it means “Calling them Home.” A mesmerizing and redemptive read.

Marlita Walker

Marlita is a native Michigander, who returned back to the area after 18 years spent in IL & PA. When not on cruising adventures with her hubby in their vintage Roadtrek camper van; she relaxes by re-arranging her home decor, walking with friends, and connecting with her 10 grands who live in TN and CA. Read more book reviews at litaslines.blogspot.com.