Douglass' Women

( 14 )

Overview

WINNER OF THE 2003 PEN OAKLAND JOSEPHINE MILES AWARD FOR OUTSTANDING WRITING AND THE BLACK CAUCUS OF THE ALA LITERARY AWARD
Frederick Douglass, the great African-American abolitionist, was a man who cherished freedom in life and in love. In this ambitious work of historical fiction, Douglass' passions come vividly to life in the form of two women: Anna Murray Douglass and Ottilie Assing.
Douglass' Women is an imaginative rendering of these two ...

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Douglass' Women: A Novel

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Overview

WINNER OF THE 2003 PEN OAKLAND JOSEPHINE MILES AWARD FOR OUTSTANDING WRITING AND THE BLACK CAUCUS OF THE ALA LITERARY AWARD
Frederick Douglass, the great African-American abolitionist, was a man who cherished freedom in life and in love. In this ambitious work of historical fiction, Douglass' passions come vividly to life in the form of two women: Anna Murray Douglass and Ottilie Assing.
Douglass' Women is an imaginative rendering of these two women — one black, the other white — in Douglass' life. Anna, his wife, was a free woman of color who helped Douglass escape as a slave. She bore Douglass five children and provided him with a secure, loving home while he traveled the world with his message. Along the way, Douglass satisfied his intellectual needs in the company of Ottilie Assing, a white woman of German-Jewish descent, who would become his mistress for decades to come. How these two women find solidarity in their shared love for Douglass — and his vision for a free America — is at the heart of Jewell Parker Rhodes' extraordinary, epic novel.

Winner of the PEN Oakland Josephine Miles Award for outstanding writing and the 2003 American Book Award.

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
The Washington Post [A] courageous and beautiful book.

Charles Johnson [A] passionate, moving novel that explores the place where American history intersects with the human heart.

Whoopi Goldberg Once again Jewell Parker Rhodes takes us someplace we never knew existed. With insight and depth we get into the lives of these three historical people, Douglass, Douglass, and Assing, only to realize that they are as contemporary as we are. Well done!

Diana Gabaldon author of The Fiery Cross A remarkable act of fictional biography!

Susan Tekulve
This gorgeously written historical novel by the author of Voodoo Dreams draws a private portrait of Frederick Douglass through the alternating voices of the two women who love him. His wife, Anna, is an illiterate laundress who helps him escape from slavery. His mistress, Ottilie Assing, is a German heiress who travels the world with him, typing and translating his famous manuscripts. Rhodes ennobles both women by "reimagining" their individual accounts of heartbreaking loyalty toward the famous abolitionist and author. Through each woman's perspective, Douglass is in turn brilliant, passionate and as beautiful as a god. He's also self-centered, hypocritical and brutally callous. Though never friends, the two characters form a complex and uneasy partnership that spans the women's rights movement, the raid on Harper's Ferry and the Civil War. The author captures Anna's quiet dignity and explores the desperate reasoning that allows Ottilie to give up her own freedom in order to remain Frederick's "spiritual wife." Unlike her two tragic heroines, Rhodes achieves a true balance of heart and mind in this fully realized book.
Publishers Weekly
Frederick Douglass's love life was nearly as tumultuous as his political career or so Rhodes (Voodoo Dreams; Magic City) posits in this vividly imagined recreation of the romantic triangle formed by the great abolitionist, his black wife and his white mistress. Anna Murray is Douglass's first love, a free Maryland woman of color who falls in love with the young slave and helps him escape the South. Douglass follows through by marrying Murray and moving her to New Bedford, Conn. Marital life begins blissfully enough, but soon Anna finds herself alone raising Douglass's children while he travels to promote the abolitionist cause. Douglass, meanwhile, meets his intellectual match in German beauty Ottilie Assing, and their relationship turns physical when they journey together to England. Anna learns of the affair shortly after their return, but once her temper cools she tolerates Assing's presence, even allowing Douglass to include her in the living arrangements when the family moves to Rochester. The narrative clips along as Rhodes introduces the various romantic angles, but as a character study the book has some noticeable flaws. The uneducated but feisty Anna emerges as a well-drawn, multifaceted character, and Assing is effectively portrayed as she tries to balance her love for Douglass with her desire to be known as something more than the obscure mistress of a powerful, charismatic figure. Douglass, however, remains a shadow figure, mostly because Rhodes never gets beneath the surface of his romantic personality and leaves out elements of his controversial political contributions that would have fleshed out the narrative. This is a solid, well-conceived novel, but by isolating Douglass's passion from his politics, Rhodes creates a book that is as incomplete in its own way as the historical treatments that ignore the personal life of the great orator. 6-city author tour. (Oct. 2)
Library Journal
This historical novel from the author of Voodoo Dreams focuses on abolitionist Frederick Douglass and the two women who shared his life: a free woman of color to whom he was married for 44 years and a German heiress. Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780743410106
  • Publisher: Washington Square Press
  • Publication date: 9/23/2003
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 384
  • Sales rank: 591,218
  • Product dimensions: 5.10 (w) x 8.10 (h) x 1.10 (d)

Meet the Author

Jewell Parker Rhodes, an award-winning author of fiction and nonfiction, including Voodoo Dreams, Season (formerly titled Voodoo Season) Yellow Moon (formerly titled Yellow Moon), Magic City, Douglass' Women, Free Within Ourselves: Fiction Lessons for Black Authors, and The African American Guide to Writing and Publishing Nonfiction, is the Virginia G. Piper Chair in Creative Writing and artistic director of the Virginia G. Piper Center in Creative Writing at Arizona State University. She lives in Scottsdale, Arizona.

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Read an Excerpt

from Douglass' Women

I was born near Tuck's Creek in Carolina County, Maryland. My parents were freed a month before I was born. I be eight of twelve children. Never was a slave. Never had to escape dogs or a bad Massa.

But I seen my share of misery. It come rolling down, searing my back just the same. Come when I least expect it.

Freddy endured much. I appreciate that. I don't appreciate his feeling that hurt makes a person finer. He was "forged," he say, "forged like steel in the fire."

I was forged by love. That's what tore me up. That's what I didn't expect. How can something that causes the sky to be bluer than blue, sends warmth flooding your body, buckles your knees, and opens your soul to music...how can what feels so good, hurt 'til you want to scratch your skin off? Snatch out the heart that feels so much?

If love be true, you feel more than you felt possible. More everything. More glory. More pain at a touch.

Frederick wanted me prim and proper. Like white women seem to be. But I wonder if they is? Truly? I'm a woman and I feel everything. Even when I don't show it, I feel.

Been feeling since the day I slipped out Mam's body.

*

Life was good with my parents. Always felt like a smile was growing inside me. A smile wider than a river, deeper than a well.

My name be Anna but I was called "Lil' Bit." Wasn't but four pounds when I was born. Mam had plenty kids but food was scarce. Mam didn't even know she was having me. Didn't know I was growing inside 'til almost the very end. She said her back ache. Low and deep. Not 'til her body say "push," did she think to lay down. No time to get the midwife. Just Mam and me. Pa was in the fields. The other children were finishing chores. Even the youngest was expected to weed the garden and feed chicks. So Mam laid down and I "slipped out," she say. The easiest of all her children. "Slipped out, swimming downstream with the birth water."

Come dinner, Mam told the family she had a surprise. Instead of cake, she brought out me.

"Everybody smile," Mam say, and I did, too. She said a bubble burst beween my lips, "glowing with a rainbow." Everybody laughed when it floated high. Then, Pa held me. Called me "Lil' Bit — lil' black walnut." I was no bigger than that. And I was just that dark.

Pa said I had sense to look like Mam. All the other children were a blend of Pa's brown sugar and Mam's dark coffee. He say, "Rudy and George and all the others turned out a fine colored. Sweet enough to drink." But he say, "Dark coffee be best. Dark coffee be what I married. One day a good man be proud to marry you."

I used to think Freddy be proud because dark coffee covered me. My mistake.

He thirsted for everyone but me. Sweet cream. Buttermilk. Milk-laced tea.

I always thirsted for water. Clear. Cold. Cup after cup.

Mam taught me Water be a spirit. "All things alive," she say. "Earth. Wind. Fire. Water."

The Devil be afeared of Water. Afeared of Water's ghosts.

When they started carrying slaves from Africa, the Devil be delighted. "Good evil," he say. "Plenty good evil." Water be furious white men captured black men, women, and children. First Water thought to smash their boats. But Mister Wind wouldn't go along. Said Water would smash innocents, too — "What about their bones? The slave childrens's souls?"

So Water swore any slave that died inside It would find a new kingdom. Not Heaven. Not Hell. But a new world.

Sometimes slaves died in storms. Most times slave catchers chained them, pushed them overboard. When slaves too sick, when pirates chased them, when the British come, Captains shouted, "Dump cargo." And all these women, babies, and men crashed down, drowning in the sea. Lungs exploded. Flesh eaten away. But their bones and souls still live at the sandy bottom. They say there be an army of twenty million. An army that can't be killed. Skeletons, hard and strong. Souls that blend invisible with water.

When Frederick travels by sea, I tell him, "Never fear." Bones be keeping him safe. He don't believe me. But 'tis true and he with all his trips to England, still live.

Frederick probably bury me in dirt. Thinking me a useless, black woman in a casket.

I'd rather be buried in water. Won't go to Heaven or Hell. Don't care. Water good enough. I was born with it. Grew up around it. Swum in it. When I was six, I started making a summer living from it.

June-bug nights the air be crisp, smelling of salt. My brothers played, trying to catch fireflies. Pa would be on the porch stirring lumps of sugar in lemonade. Mam be rocking inside, teaching us girls sewing. Beside her in the cradle, be whatever youngest baby there be. When the baby cried, Mam sang sweet songs. Sang about how all her babies made it across Jordan. Nobody a slave no more. They be proud. Mam and Pa. Proud they had a farm which fed us just above starving.

But I got restless staying indoors. Tired of having my sister, Lizbeth, pull my pigtails and Mam complain about my stitches. Tired of Mam singing about crossing the River Jordan when outside my door, there was a bay more beautiful in moonglow than in sunlight.

Free should mean doing things. Not just talking about free!

So, one June-bug night, I built me a trap out of sticks and fishnet. It wasn't too steady. Lopsided on one end. Slats, too wide.

Everybody asked, "What you doin', Lil' Bit?"

"I'm going to catch crabs."

Everybody giggled: "When you become fisherman?" "Where's your boat?"

But Mam said I should be "encouraged." That's her very word: encouraged. She learned it from Miz Pullman when she cleaned her house.

I carried my trap to where I liked to play. A small cove with moss, willow trees, and silver fishes. Mosquitoes sucked my blood, but I didn't mind. I pushed my trap into blue-green water and prayed to them bones at the bottom of the sea. I prayed hard for them to bring crabs. Big Blue ones to sell.

First, I didn't hear no sound. Then, I heard what I thought be music. Sweeter than Mam's singing. No words, only sounds. Like children playing, clapping songs, jumping rope or eating sweet potato pie. My soul lit up. I was certain them bones be my friend. They be enjoying this free colored girl. Not jealous, but happy I was alive.

I raced home and asked Mam to make fritters.

Mam say, "Anna, now why? Why I wanna heat my stove tonight?"

I told her, "Them bones gonna bring Big Blues. I'm gonna sell fritters with my crabs. Them bones they promised. Promised me big, blue crabs."

Mam looked at me funny. Her head sideways, her lips puckered. Her eyes squinting at me hard-like. "Did they sing?"

I nodded.

Then, Mam jumped up, scurried to the porch, and shouted for the boys to chop more wood. She sent my sisters to find every bowl we owned. Lu, she told to get the flour. Lizbeth had to collect well water.

Pa complained, "We need sleep. Time for bed. Not listening to Lil' Bit."

Mam say, "Hush. We cook all night. Tomorrow we sell crabs."

Pa puffed his chest, going to complain more when Mam say, "The bones sang. She heard them."

Pa looked at me with respect. He say, "Lil' Bit, I know you special. But just 'cause the bones sing, don't mean they promised. Let's go check that trap."

I was scared. All my family looking at me. Lionel stuck out his tongue; I stuck mine back.

We all followed Pa down the steps, across grass, weaving between lacy willows and blinking fireflies to my special cove. All of us stopped and held our breath as Pa pulled my pitiful trap from the water. We couldn't see. Pa's back covered the trap. A minute. He say nothing. Another minute.

Then, he whistled low and deep. He turned, smiling like Sunday and shouted, "Boys, chop wood for a bonfire. We're frying fritters all night."

So we did. All night, fritters gurgled in the pot. We drained and cooled them on a sheet stripped to rags. We all were hot and weary, but whenever we thought about quitting, Pa checked the trap. It was always full of Big Blues; Pa set them aside and laid my trap again and again.

Come morning, our rooster, Sid, crowed and Mam had six baskets stuffed with fritters. Pa had the buckets stuffed with crabs. In twos, like Noah's Ark (Mam had the baby; Pa took the next youngest), we walked the lane to town.

I be with George and we headed down Charleston Avenue. George carried the ice-cold bucket; me, the basket. Both of us hollering, "Fresh crabs. Fresh fritters. Crabs live. Fritters cooked. Two pennies."

Noontime, nothing left. Everything's gone. We be rich. Mam bought everybody new shoes.

Pa kissed me six times: on my nose, forehead, each eye, then, my lips and chin. Mam bought us licorice sticks. We were happy all summer long.

When September came, Mam say with so much money she could spare some children to school. She say, "Lil' Bit, you go. You learn reading and writing."

I said, "Naw."

If I'd of knowed how much Frederick was going to hold it against me, I would've said different.

Freddy didn't mind my not reading. But it bothered Frederick Bailey Douglass, the ex-slave man. He say reading "freed him." "Reading is the only way to light the corners of the mind."

I be bull-headed. I was good enough when we married, why wasn't I good enough after? And, for the longest time, it was Freddy not Frederick who met me in bed. So, I felt no need to read.

Then, when I wanted to learn reading and writing, there was no time. Freddy gone most times. Me, alone in a cold house. Left to raise four children. Bury one. Left to rebuild when the house burnt down. When those white men burnt it.

After Annie's burial, Freddy didn't touch me no more. But Frederick used me. Like a slop jar to wet.

This be true: I knew my brother and sister would enjoy school more. I was content by Mam's side. Being her shadow. I dreamed one day I'd have a baby girl who'd want to shadow me. Hadn't counted on my daughter being ripped away to boarding school. At seven, no less. Naw, I surely didn't expect that. Tore me up inside.

My happiest days were spent with Mam. She taught me to crimp pie crust, braise greens, stuff and lace a hen. She taught me how to clean sheets by adding a teaspoon of lye, how lemon juice made a window shine, how turkey feathers dusted finer than cotton. I never liked sewing much but she taught me when a seam's been tugged too tight, when a hem has less than ninety stitches.

I loved my days in the house. It was me and Mam's small kingdom.

Seventeen, I started service for the Baldwins. I treated their home like my own. I took care to make it a place for joy to happen in. But I still dreamed of my own home. My own clean, good-smelling world for my children.

Except I was having trouble finding the man to make my dream real.

When white men treated me with disrespect, I prayed to the Lord. He kept me safe from bad men. From colored men, too, who wanted my sugar without marriage.

I be wanting love. Wanting to open like a flower for the right man.

Problem was there weren't enough good men. There were some kind men. Men who would sell fish, farm for white folks, some even shoe horses. But I wanted a man who could be more than that, more than me and inspire my children. I kept pure 'til it seemed like I was too old to have any choice. My blush of youth blushed itself away.

I almost made peace with lonely days. But lonely nights were harder. My passion didn't bank down like it should. Prayers helped only some. I was needing, needy for love. Needing my own house. My own home.

I figured I'd be like water. Calm, floating, ever still. But them bones taught me about a world beneath water. Bones cried out, singing about desires unfilled. Lives unlived. Lovers untouched. Children unborn.

Just when I thought all hopeless, I got what I wished for. A man to inspire my children. Yet at a price paid. Price dearly paid.

I wonder whether my children — Rosetta, Charles Redmond, Lewis, and Freddy Jr. — be better for it? Whether my dead daughter cared her Daddy was Frederick Bailey Douglass?

Mam never lost a child like I did.

How explain that? Did them bones want Annie? Was that part of the price paid?

Past my prime, I get the man of my dreams. Miracle, don't you think?

Freddy thinks reading and the sight of white-masted ships free him. But I freed him. Me and my bones. We made a harbor. A place to ease his body down.

When I first saw Freddy's face, I saw the sun rise. My promised land. The bones made flesh.

And like flesh, everything dies. Everything goes bye and bye.

Copyright © 2002 by Jewell Parker Rhodes

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First Chapter

from Douglass' Women

I was born near Tuck's Creek in Carolina County, Maryland. My parents were freed a month before I was born. I be eight of twelve children. Never was a slave. Never had to escape dogs or a bad Massa.

But I seen my share of misery. It come rolling down, searing my back just the same. Come when I least expect it.

Freddy endured much. I appreciate that. I don't appreciate his feeling that hurt makes a person finer. He was "forged," he say, "forged like steel in the fire."

I was forged by love. That's what tore me up. That's what I didn't expect. How can something that causes the sky to be bluer than blue, sends warmth flooding your body, buckles your knees, and opens your soul to music...how can what feels so good, hurt 'til you want to scratch your skin off? Snatch out the heart that feels so much?

If love be true, you feel more than you felt possible. More everything. More glory. More pain at a touch.

Frederick wanted me prim and proper. Like white women seem to be. But I wonder if they is? Truly? I'm a woman and I feel everything. Even when I don't show it, I feel.

Been feeling since the day I slipped out Mam's body.

*

Life was good with my parents. Always felt like a smile was growing inside me. A smile wider than a river, deeper than a well.

My name be Anna but I was called "Lil' Bit." Wasn't but four pounds when I was born. Mam had plenty kids but food was scarce. Mam didn't even know she was having me. Didn't know I was growing inside 'til almost the very end. She said her back ache. Low and deep. Not 'til her body say "push," did she think to lay down. No time to get the midwife. Just Mam and me. Pa was in the fields. The other children were finishing chores. Even the youngest was expected to weed the garden and feed chicks. So Mam laid down and I "slipped out," she say. The easiest of all her children. "Slipped out, swimming downstream with the birth water."

Come dinner, Mam told the family she had a surprise. Instead of cake, she brought out me.

"Everybody smile," Mam say, and I did, too. She said a bubble burst beween my lips, "glowing with a rainbow." Everybody laughed when it floated high. Then, Pa held me. Called me "Lil' Bit -- lil' black walnut." I was no bigger than that. And I was just that dark.

Pa said I had sense to look like Mam. All the other children were a blend of Pa's brown sugar and Mam's dark coffee. He say, "Rudy and George and all the others turned out a fine colored. Sweet enough to drink." But he say, "Dark coffee be best. Dark coffee be what I married. One day a good man be proud to marry you."

I used to think Freddy be proud because dark coffee covered me. My mistake.

He thirsted for everyone but me. Sweet cream. Buttermilk. Milk-laced tea.

I always thirsted for water. Clear. Cold. Cup after cup.

Mam taught me Water be a spirit. "All things alive," she say. "Earth. Wind. Fire. Water."


The Devil be afeared of Water. Afeared of Water's ghosts.

When they started carrying slaves from Africa, the Devil be delighted. "Good evil," he say. "Plenty good evil." Water be furious white men captured black men, women, and children. First Water thought to smash their boats. But Mister Wind wouldn't go along. Said Water would smash innocents, too -- "What about their bones? The slave childrens's souls?"

So Water swore any slave that died inside It would find a new kingdom. Not Heaven. Not Hell. But a new world.

Sometimes slaves died in storms. Most times slave catchers chained them, pushed them overboard. When slaves too sick, when pirates chased them, when the British come, Captains shouted, "Dump cargo." And all these women, babies, and men crashed down, drowning in the sea. Lungs exploded. Flesh eaten away. But their bones and souls still live at the sandy bottom. They say there be an army of twenty million. An army that can't be killed. Skeletons, hard and strong. Souls that blend invisible with water.

When Frederick travels by sea, I tell him, "Never fear." Bones be keeping him safe. He don't believe me. But 'tis true and he with all his trips to England, still live.

Frederick probably bury me in dirt. Thinking me a useless, black woman in a casket.

I'd rather be buried in water. Won't go to Heaven or Hell. Don't care. Water good enough. I was born with it. Grew up around it. Swum in it. When I was six, I started making a summer living from it.


June-bug nights the air be crisp, smelling of salt. My brothers played, trying to catch fireflies. Pa would be on the porch stirring lumps of sugar in lemonade. Mam be rocking inside, teaching us girls sewing. Beside her in the cradle, be whatever youngest baby there be. When the baby cried, Mam sang sweet songs. Sang about how all her babies made it across Jordan. Nobody a slave no more. They be proud. Mam and Pa. Proud they had a farm which fed us just above starving.

But I got restless staying indoors. Tired of having my sister, Lizbeth, pull my pigtails and Mam complain about my stitches. Tired of Mam singing about crossing the River Jordan when outside my door, there was a bay more beautiful in moonglow than in sunlight.

Free should mean doing things. Not just talking about free!

So, one June-bug night, I built me a trap out of sticks and fishnet. It wasn't too steady. Lopsided on one end. Slats, too wide.

Everybody asked, "What you doin', Lil' Bit?"

"I'm going to catch crabs."

Everybody giggled: "When you become fisherman?" "Where's your boat?"

But Mam said I should be "encouraged." That's her very word: encouraged. She learned it from Miz Pullman when she cleaned her house.

I carried my trap to where I liked to play. A small cove with moss, willow trees, and silver fishes. Mosquitoes sucked my blood, but I didn't mind. I pushed my trap into blue-green water and prayed to them bones at the bottom of the sea. I prayed hard for them to bring crabs. Big Blue ones to sell.

First, I didn't hear no sound. Then, I heard what I thought be music. Sweeter than Mam's singing. No words, only sounds. Like children playing, clapping songs, jumping rope or eating sweet potato pie. My soul lit up. I was certain them bones be my friend. They be enjoying this free colored girl. Not jealous, but happy I was alive.

I raced home and asked Mam to make fritters.

Mam say, "Anna, now why? Why I wanna heat my stove tonight?"

I told her, "Them bones gonna bring Big Blues. I'm gonna sell fritters with my crabs. Them bones they promised. Promised me big, blue crabs."

Mam looked at me funny. Her head sideways, her lips puckered. Her eyes squinting at me hard-like. "Did they sing?"

I nodded.

Then, Mam jumped up, scurried to the porch, and shouted for the boys to chop more wood. She sent my sisters to find every bowl we owned. Lu, she told to get the flour. Lizbeth had to collect well water.

Pa complained, "We need sleep. Time for bed. Not listening to Lil' Bit."

Mam say, "Hush. We cook all night. Tomorrow we sell crabs."

Pa puffed his chest, going to complain more when Mam say, "The bones sang. She heard them."

Pa looked at me with respect. He say, "Lil' Bit, I know you special. But just 'cause the bones sing, don't mean they promised. Let's go check that trap."

I was scared. All my family looking at me. Lionel stuck out his tongue; I stuck mine back.

We all followed Pa down the steps, across grass, weaving between lacy willows and blinking fireflies to my special cove. All of us stopped and held our breath as Pa pulled my pitiful trap from the water. We couldn't see. Pa's back covered the trap. A minute. He say nothing. Another minute.

Then, he whistled low and deep. He turned, smiling like Sunday and shouted, "Boys, chop wood for a bonfire. We're frying fritters all night."

So we did. All night, fritters gurgled in the pot. We drained and cooled them on a sheet stripped to rags. We all were hot and weary, but whenever we thought about quitting, Pa checked the trap. It was always full of Big Blues; Pa set them aside and laid my trap again and again.

Come morning, our rooster, Sid, crowed and Mam had six baskets stuffed with fritters. Pa had the buckets stuffed with crabs. In twos, like Noah's Ark (Mam had the baby; Pa took the next youngest), we walked the lane to town.

I be with George and we headed down Charleston Avenue. George carried the ice-cold bucket; me, the basket. Both of us hollering, "Fresh crabs. Fresh fritters. Crabs live. Fritters cooked. Two pennies."

Noontime, nothing left. Everything's gone. We be rich. Mam bought everybody new shoes.

Pa kissed me six times: on my nose, forehead, each eye, then, my lips and chin. Mam bought us licorice sticks. We were happy all summer long.

When September came, Mam say with so much money she could spare some children to school. She say, "Lil' Bit, you go. You learn reading and writing."

I said, "Naw."

If I'd of knowed how much Frederick was going to hold it against me, I would've said different.

Freddy didn't mind my not reading. But it bothered Frederick Bailey Douglass, the ex-slave man. He say reading "freed him." "Reading is the only way to light the corners of the mind."

I be bull-headed. I was good enough when we married, why wasn't I good enough after? And, for the longest time, it was Freddy not Frederick who met me in bed. So, I felt no need to read.

Then, when I wanted to learn reading and writing, there was no time. Freddy gone most times. Me, alone in a cold house. Left to raise four children. Bury one. Left to rebuild when the house burnt down. When those white men burnt it.

After Annie's burial, Freddy didn't touch me no more. But Frederick used me. Like a slop jar to wet.

This be true: I knew my brother and sister would enjoy school more. I was content by Mam's side. Being her shadow. I dreamed one day I'd have a baby girl who'd want to shadow me. Hadn't counted on my daughter being ripped away to boarding school. At seven, no less. Naw, I surely didn't expect that. Tore me up inside.


My happiest days were spent with Mam. She taught me to crimp pie crust, braise greens, stuff and lace a hen. She taught me how to clean sheets by adding a teaspoon of lye, how lemon juice made a window shine, how turkey feathers dusted finer than cotton. I never liked sewing much but she taught me when a seam's been tugged too tight, when a hem has less than ninety stitches.

I loved my days in the house. It was me and Mam's small kingdom.


Seventeen, I started service for the Baldwins. I treated their home like my own. I took care to make it a place for joy to happen in. But I still dreamed of my own home. My own clean, good-smelling world for my children.

Except I was having trouble finding the man to make my dream real.

When white men treated me with disrespect, I prayed to the Lord. He kept me safe from bad men. From colored men, too, who wanted my sugar without marriage.

I be wanting love. Wanting to open like a flower for the right man.

Problem was there weren't enough good men. There were some kind men. Men who would sell fish, farm for white folks, some even shoe horses. But I wanted a man who could be more than that, more than me and inspire my children. I kept pure 'til it seemed like I was too old to have any choice. My blush of youth blushed itself away.

I almost made peace with lonely days. But lonely nights were harder. My passion didn't bank down like it should. Prayers helped only some. I was needing, needy for love. Needing my own house. My own home.

I figured I'd be like water. Calm, floating, ever still. But them bones taught me about a world beneath water. Bones cried out, singing about desires unfilled. Lives unlived. Lovers untouched. Children unborn.

Just when I thought all hopeless, I got what I wished for. A man to inspire my children. Yet at a price paid. Price dearly paid.

I wonder whether my children -- Rosetta, Charles Redmond, Lewis, and Freddy Jr. -- be better for it? Whether my dead daughter cared her Daddy was Frederick Bailey Douglass?

Mam never lost a child like I did.

How explain that? Did them bones want Annie? Was that part of the price paid?

Past my prime, I get the man of my dreams. Miracle, don't you think?

Freddy thinks reading and the sight of white-masted ships free him. But I freed him. Me and my bones. We made a harbor. A place to ease his body down.

When I first saw Freddy's face, I saw the sun rise. My promised land. The bones made flesh.

And like flesh, everything dies. Everything goes bye and bye.

Copyright © 2002 by Jewell Parker Rhodes

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Introduction

Douglass' Women

Reading Group Discussion Questions

Discussion Questions

1. When Anna first sees Frederick in the shipyard, she finds herself drawn to him even though they do not speak during this initial encounter. What is it about Frederick that attracts Anna to him?

2. How would you describe Anna's relationship with Frederick from their days in Baltimore through their decades-long marriage? Why do you think Anna remained with Frederick in spite of his flagrant unfaithfulness? How would you describe Frederick's relationship with Ottilie? Why do you think Ottilie chose to remain with Frederick especially since she, unlike Anna, had the financial means to care for herself?

3. In the author's note at the end of the book, Jewell Parker Rhodes describes Anna and Ottilie as "two brave women." Why do you think she chose to describe them as brave? Do you agree with this assessment? Did you empathize with one woman more than the other?

4. The time period in which the novel takes place was marked by political unrest and social change — the fight against slavery, the coming of the Civil War, and the burgeoning women's movement. To what extent do these political and social circumstances contribute to the individual fates and fortunes of the three main characters — Frederick, Anna, and Ottilie?

5. From the time she first meets Frederick, Anna worries that she "might not be what he wanted" (pg. 22). She believes that he finds her unattractive, uneducated, too old when they marry, and her skin not light enough. Are her fears grounded in reality? How does this belief in part define her relationship with Frederick?

6. The story is constructed in alternatingchapters told from Anna and Ottilie's perspectives. How does this narrative structure enhance the story? Each womanis looking back on the past and telling her story. Does the vantage point of age influence the telling of each one's tale?

7. When she first journeys to America, Ottilie encounters a slave, Oluwand, who commits suicide by jumping over the ship's railing. Throughout her life Ottilie is haunted by visions of Oluwand, in one instance saying that "she'd appear in my bedroom, on the edge of my bed. Her black eyes blinking like an owl's" (pg 219). What does Oluwand represent to her, and why can't she forget her?

8. Why do you think Frederick married Helen Pitts and not Ottilie after Anna's death? Why do you think, in spite of his having forsaken her, that Ottilie left her estate to Frederick?

9. One of Ottilie's diary excerpts refers to Anna by saying, "I shouldn't have hated her. She loved him, just like me." Anna, referring to Ottilie, says the following: "Miss Assing wasn't a Delilah. I see that now." In the end, do you think Anna and Ottilie come to understand one another to some degree?

10. History has remembered Frederick Douglass as a great man and abolitionist. Did reading this novel alter your opinion of Frederick Douglass?

Read More Show Less

Reading Group Guide

Douglass' Women

Reading Group Discussion Questions

Discussion Questions

1. When Anna first sees Frederick in the shipyard, she finds herself drawn to him even though they do not speak during this initial encounter. What is it about Frederick that attracts Anna to him?

2. How would you describe Anna's relationship with Frederick from their days in Baltimore through their decades-long marriage? Why do you think Anna remained with Frederick in spite of his flagrant unfaithfulness? How would you describe Frederick's relationship with Ottilie? Why do you think Ottilie chose to remain with Frederick especially since she, unlike Anna, had the financial means to care for herself?

3. In the author's note at the end of the book, Jewell Parker Rhodes describes Anna and Ottilie as "two brave women." Why do you think she chose to describe them as brave? Do you agree with this assessment? Did you empathize with one woman more than the other?

4. The time period in which the novel takes place was marked by political unrest and social change — the fight against slavery, the coming of the Civil War, and the burgeoning women's movement. To what extent do these political and social circumstances contribute to the individual fates and fortunes of the three main characters — Frederick, Anna, and Ottilie?

5. From the time she first meets Frederick, Anna worries that she "might not be what he wanted" (pg. 22). She believes that he finds her unattractive, uneducated, too old when they marry, and her skin not light enough. Are her fears grounded in reality? How does this belief in part define her relationship with Frederick?

6. The story is constructed in alternating chapters told from Anna and Ottilie's perspectives. How does this narrative structure enhance the story? Each woman is looking back on the past and telling her story. Does the vantage point of age influence the telling of each one's tale?

7. When she first journeys to America, Ottilie encounters a slave, Oluwand, who commits suicide by jumping over the ship's railing. Throughout her life Ottilie is haunted by visions of Oluwand, in one instance saying that "she'd appear in my bedroom, on the edge of my bed. Her black eyes blinking like an owl's" (pg 219). What does Oluwand represent to her, and why can't she forget her?

8. Why do you think Frederick married Helen Pitts and not Ottilie after Anna's death? Why do you think, in spite of his having forsaken her, that Ottilie left her estate to Frederick?

9. One of Ottilie's diary excerpts refers to Anna by saying, "I shouldn't have hated her. She loved him, just like me." Anna, referring to Ottilie, says the following: "Miss Assing wasn't a Delilah. I see that now." In the end, do you think Anna and Ottilie come to understand one another to some degree?

10. History has remembered Frederick Douglass as a great man and abolitionist. Did reading this novel alter your opinion of Frederick Douglass?

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 14 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 14 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted September 10, 2003

    I couldn't put it down!

    Douglass' Women gives readers a rare glimpse into the humanness that was Frederick Douglass. More than that, Anna Douglass comprises all the qualities of a strong woman -- not just a black woman. And, after all I read, I even felt a little sorry for Ottilie Assing. Whether true or not, the author lets us know that many of our heroes have feet of clay. Douglass' Women is a permanent part of my library; already, it's been read by all the women in my family..mother, three daughters and granddaughter. Thank you

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 5, 2003

    a reviewer

    this book is wholesomely fabulous i couldent put it down the four times i read it it really made me think, could this really have happened beacause douglass did make the statment 'i'm married to an old black log' jewell is an excellent writer and ive read all her novels. i feel honored becuase my book is personally signed by ms rhodes herself. i took it upon my self to ask her if thier would be a sequel to voodoo dreams she smiled and said she thinks thier is going to be a sequel when she feels she has matured enough to write it. im going off topic here but douglasses women is an outstanding book that makes you think and aren't those the best kind of books? this book deserves 5 stars.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 10, 2002

    Fine Historical Fiction!

    In her latest novel, Douglass¿ Women, Jewel Parker Rhodes travels back in history to the antebellum and Civil War era to examine the loves of Frederick Douglass. She stretches the imagination by exploring the psyche of Anna, a free woman of color, who loves Douglass to almost to a fault and Ottilie Assing, a European, free-spirit who is attracted to the polished and principled Douglass. The novel, told in a chronological alternating chapter format, provides the reader a glimpse into the character and upbringing of each woman. Anna is a quiet, hardworking homemaker, devoted wife and mother who clings to the belief that love conquers all. She has a strong sense of family and has witnessed unconditional love between her parents and siblings. Her one wish is to have the same love returned to her from Douglass. Unfortunately Douglass, a self-taught ex-slave, has been elevated to a level of celebrity and lifestyle that pushed Anna to the background where she reluctantly finds comfort. While her husband is recognized as a skilled orator and accomplished author, Anna is regarded as a recluse and intentionally remains illiterate (despite Douglass¿ urging otherwise) which creates an erudite chasm between them that widens as the years progress. Ottilie Assing, a genteel woman of German-Jewish ancestry, works as Douglass¿ interpreter. She fills the intellectual void and accompanies Douglass on many engagements. They grow fond of each other and a lifetime love affair begins. Rhodes writes very vividly so the reader clearly understands the similarities, differences, jealousy, envy, and anger each woman feels toward each other and Douglass. Rhodes also parallels the societal prejudices of Jews in Europe to Africans in America which justifies Ottilie¿s attraction to the abolitionist¿s views. Although this is a work of historical fiction, she carefully follows the actual timeframe of events to effortlessly blend in factual people, places, and excerpts from speeches which lends credibility to the novel. From a literary standpoint, her use of the ¿water-death-freedom¿ symbolism was handled expertly and was used as the unifying thread for both women¿s tales. A good story from an accomplished author!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 11, 2002

    Compelling...Intriguiing...

    Jewell Parker Rhodes has brought the lives behind the Infamous Frederick Douglass to life in this novel. Anna Murray born free in the time of slavery is not formally educated, but has more intelligence than her husband can acknowledge. She is a strong God Fearing Black woman with a love for family. She can survive and has the independence to provide for the sake of her family. Ottillie Assing is a German 1/2 Jewish, 1/2 Christian woman passing as only a white woman with formal education and the ability to speak many languages. She believes she is more suitable for Mr. Douglass because of her education. All in all these women have a love for Frederick Douglass that is holding them bondage. THey do not see the common ground they stand on, they do not realize that even when he is granted his freedom, he is still enslaved. These women don't realize that even though they were born free, they are also slaves. This book is written with very open emotions. You learn the personal side of Frederick Bailey Douglass. Jewell Parker Rhodes has done an excellent job. Read this book and find out, Did Frederick Douglass ever find true love? Was he capable of loving? Was he a good Husband, lover, friend, father? was he a good man?

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 25, 2013

    Fabulous

    Amazing read! Anna Murray was an amazing woman to put up with her husband's behavior. Easy but powerful read.

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  • Posted March 2, 2009

    Douglass Women - WOW

    Excellent boook. Highly recommend to book clubs or anyone. Romantic, passionate look at love and responsibility. Realistic view of relationships, desires and survival. Author brings the characters to life.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 1, 2008

    unique in character

    this is a book of inspration to those who struggle and love. well written.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 5, 2005

    The Best Book

    Douglass' Women has exposed a story that most people never even heard of before. Jewel Parker Rhodes has exposed this story and has built it on the firm basis of fact and history. At first I thought the story was going to be about Douglass' first and second wives. So did Ms. Rhodes, as she explained in the author's note. I never even heard of Ottilie Assing before! Ms. Rhodes has dug deep into the forgotten territories of history and has brung it to the surface.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 11, 2004

    Ambivalence

    The writer tells an intriguing story without the benefit of detailed substance. I would be happy to read another of her work. While this is not the sort of literature I would personally pick out. I found it a fascinating read. It made me see, or if I may be bold enough to say, somewhat understand a woman feelings in the area of romance. It also peaked my interest in the abolition process. Almost any page in this book can be consumed as a poem in itself. The writer¿s lyrical, poetic style is most enjoyable, indeed it reminded me of, ¿the good,¿ Zora Hurston

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 26, 2003

    She can do a little better!!!

    Jewell Parker Rhodes has told a story that many people didn't even know! But in a sense she dressed the story up too much!!!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 20, 2003

    Excellent!

    I bought this book because the entry I read in "Gumbo" was too good to pass up! And I wasn't dissappointed. This is a prime example of how someone's personal life doesn't necessarily affect a person's view on their political life (ex. Clinton). I still have the same amount of respect for Frederick Douglass but I just learned something new. The author did a great job!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 17, 2003

    A complex man of his times

    We read the book in my book club. It was an interesting and easy read. The consensus was this was a good story but not exactly a nice guy, as portrayed. As novelized, Frederick Douglass was a complex man who had deep love issues. He needed two women to make him whole but yet never seemed able to show that love to either of them or his kids. Highly recommended for people interested in another look at a good man with clay feet. Averlyn Archer genesisartline.com

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 18, 2002

    A Literary Treasure

    This was a beautifully written piece of historical fiction!! I was captivated by the passion and devotion of the two women in the infamous Federick Douglass' life. I did not want this book to end. I would love to see this book on the Big Screen.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 25, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

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