Generations: Lucille Clifton’s Memoir, a Haunting Reprinted

Abstract

Generations: Lucille Clifton’s Memoir, a Haunting Reprinted Jalynn Harris (bio) Generations: A Memoir, by Lucille Clifton (NYRB Classics, 2021), 104 pp. What do you call something that goes and comes back in a form not quite, but resembling, the corporeal? Is there any word closer than haunting, or maybe, more narrowly, history? History is a subject that Tracy K. Smith asks us to consider in the introduction to the republished edition of Lucille Clifton’s memoir, Generations. Clifton’s timeless contribution to poetry has a clear through line in Generations—the stroke of her pen, rays of light running across pages, opening possibility through simple, exact and human diction. It cannot go without mention that light is the very definition of Lucille. Smith writes, If light is what the work of Clifton is intent upon spreading, then I’m tempted to think that history as we have been conditioned to accept it is unrefracted, all of a piece, and blindingly white. Whereas Clifton’s imagination is prismatic; it slows down the central story so we can see what it is truly made of: all the dazzling colors moving at different frequencies and, depending upon circumstances, in distinct directions. . . . Generations, first published in 1976, chronicles in dialect several generations of Clifton’s family line. The narrative’s impetus is framed in reflection of Clifton’s father’s death and her journey to and out of his homegoing service. Laden with family photos and quotes from Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself,” the narrative is a mosaic of dialogue, poetry, and family records both visual and oral. Clifton’s memoir, a monument despite its 87-page heft, resonates as beautifully as the life of the poet, who illuminated readers with each word she wrote. Poet laureate of Baltimore from 1974–1985, Clifton’s first book of poetry, Good Times (1969), was selected as one of the 10 best books of the year by The New York Times. Her career went on to span over four decades of accolades, publication, and poetic service—including, but not limited to, two Pulitzer Prize nominations, several children’s books, a Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize, and a position as one of the chancellors of the Academy of American Poets. Through dialogue in the voice of Clifton’s father, Samuel Sayles, and his incantation of his great-grandmother Mammy Ca’line’s voice, Clifton weaves together a nonlinear yet luminary account of her patrilineal grandmother’s [End Page 118] harrowing epic from Dahomey to Virginia. And in turn, an account of how she picks up the baton to continue the line—a six-fingered woman with six children in tow. The story begins through the wires, Clifton on the phone with a distant white relative who offers to send Clifton a concise log of her family’s history—the Sales/Sayles of Bedford County, Virginia. Curious, the white relative asks Clifton why she’s interested in this family history. Clifton proffers, “Well, my maiden name was Sayles.” Eager, the white woman prods, “What was your father’s name?” “Samuel.” Clifton states, to which the “thin-voiced white woman” says, “I don’t know him.” “Who remembers the names of slaves?” Clifton asks, both as a statement and an accusation. And then, continues, for an entire book, to remember the names of those enslaved. Samuel Sayles, son of Gene Sayles, son of Lucille Sayles, daughter of Mammy Ca’line, born free in Afrika in 1822. The story begins with Clifton’s father’s death. Samuel “Mr. Sayles Lord” Sayles finishes breakfast and sends his eldest daughter Josephine “Jo” upstairs to fetch his cigarettes, but, when she comes back, he’s lying on the floor, already in the afterlife. Samuel Sayles, born 1902 in Bedford, Virginia, was raised by his great-grandmother, Caroline “Mammy Ca’line” Donald Sale until the age of eight years old. Punkin, Clifton’s younger sister—by six months—calls Clifton and tells her the news of their father’s passing. Grieving through fits of disbelief and laughter, Clifton, alongside her husband Fred and her brother Sammy, begins the journey from Baltimore, Maryland, to Buffalo, New York, to say their goodbyes. The story begins...