The Slaves Have Names: Ancestors of My Home by Andi Cumbo-Floyd
Why I recommend this book…
I know the author. Andi’s my friend. And I will be forever thankful for her help in the shaping of my first novel. Her editing services are nothing short of magical. Truly.
I felt a connection to Andi the moment we started working together. Almost instinctively, she understood what I was trying to do with my book. She got me. But I had no idea just how intimately connected we were until I read her book.
In the first chapter, she states: “It is also my story, the story of how the 246 enslaved people pulled me back to life when it seemed the death of my mother might silence me forever.” I understand. You see, for me this was learning the stories of the people who had arrived in Colorado’s San Juan Mountains before me, the Native Americans, followed by miners, merchants and prostitutes. Their stories gave me the strength I needed when the grief of losing my family had almost consumed me; when I too was afraid I’d never find the surface again.
As she begins this work of creative non-fiction, Andi explains how she felt a connection, a calling even, to the people who were buried in the quiet graveyard situated on her property, the Lower Bremo Plantation, located in a rural part of central Virginia. Since most of the graves are unmarked, thorough research was required before she could begin her project. Thus, Andi spent time with local historians, with various people she encountered in a diner, as well as searching archives in climate-controlled rooms at the University of Virginia and mulling over property tax and inventory lists. All of this gave her the facts. But she felt it was not enough. That it did not give the people flesh or carry their dignity, feeling, “it is only inventory, not story.”
In The Slaves Have Names Andi has fused fact with imagination, using her beautiful prose, which is soothing, calming and emotive. The result is a story about people nearly forgotten. At times the story is heartbreaking. At other times rather enlightening as she attempts to understand and then entangle the nuances and complexes surrounding slavery, for herself and the reader, many of which were things I had never considered before.
Furthermore, Andi touches upon a few of my favorite literary elements, including my obsession with houses. She details her visits to the plantation, the houses and structures, and in one chapter states: “I want…to believe that objects hold memories like all the ghost shows say they do.” If you know me, you are aware that I believe houses have an uncanny ability to collect memories and imprint these intangibles into their walls.
Ultimately, Andi explores the lingering consequences of the past and suggests that when we take the time to learn what the past is trying to tell us, only then can healing take place.