Howdy, friends! I hope everyone’s doing well.
So, try as I did to get through another two books in May, I only managed to finish my book club’s latest read, She Would Be King by Wayétu Moore. I was also listening through the second book of Christopher Ruocchio’s Sun Eater series, Howling Dark, but I wasn’t able to finish in time for this blog. That’s still ongoing, as of this posting. It didn’t help that I had to swap to the audiobook for our book club book shortly into my time reading the physical copy; it just wasn’t flowing for me very well.
With all of that being said, let’s take a stab at She Would Be King. Moore’s 2018 debut novel is an interesting piece of historical fiction mixed with magical realism that reimagines the founding days of Liberia in the 1800s. The story follows Gbessa, a native African woman of the Vai people who is gifted (or cursed, as her people put it) with immortality; June Dey, an invincible African American man born into—and later fleeing—slavery in Virginia; and Norman Aragon, a young and idealistic Jamaican man born to an obsessive English scholar and a native Jamaican woman, the latter of whom passes on her ability to turn invisible to her son.
Now, I’ll admit up front, magical realism and historical fiction are two genres I’m overly familiar with, but far be it for me to shy away from trying something new. And seriously, I’m glad I gave this book a shot. That said, though, I think I sort of set myself up for failure here by reading the synopsis and assuming this was going to play out like an epic tale with a hero’s journey, just remodeled to fit an intriguing historical mold. That is not what this book is. For better or worse, Moore goes against many typical storytelling conventions to tell what was ultimately a very compelling story, even if it didn’t entirely work for me in the end.
I think there’s two ways to look at She Would Be King. Maybe I’m wrong to look at it in these ways, but it’s just how it make sense in my head. On the one hand, there is the story as a historical piece that retells a chunk of African history in a very inventive and thought-provoking manner. On the other hand, there is the story as it plays out on paper, which I think hits some nails on the head, but not all of them.
The front end of She Would Be King details the singular backstories of the focus characters, allowing readers to dig into their personalities and individual histories. Meanwhile, the latter half is where Moore really builds the plot, as all parties converge in Liberia and its capital city of Monrovia. There, Gbessa integrates herself into the local society and its politics, while June Dey and Norman Aragon serve as wandering protector types for the people of the region. All of this leads to several internal struggles between differing Black factions before everyone ultimately unites to fight against illegal slavers still present in the region.
As one of my friends from my book club pointed out, much of this story’s strength lies in its historical symbolism. In particular, it’s important to look at how each of the focus characters represent different Black cultures and their ongoing struggles. Gbessa represents native Africans and their battles for independence against colonialist regimes. June Dey stands for Black slaves in the Americas and their fight for freedom. And Norman Aragon is the often unheard but equally powerful voice of Jamaica and other neighboring Black communities in the Caribbean. I hadn’t really clocked this while reading, but knowing that now, the story hits a lot harder in certain respects in hindsight, especially once the meat of the plot starts to unfold in the second half of the book.
Now, while the historical aspects and implications of the novel are consistently interesting, and while I was mostly able to endear myself to the characters and their conflicts, much of this did still fall a bit short for me. In particular, it was challenging for me to ignore just how little agency the focus characters had. And maybe that was the point, but even if it was, it still didn’t work for me. Many major events just sort of happen to each of them because the plot necessitates it. Norman Aragon is the only one who seems to really know what he wants, but he has so little “screen time” that it was difficult to get attached to him.
Which then leads to my next point. Calling Gbessa, June Dey, and Norman Aragon a trio of protagonists is being a bit generous. Really, Gbessa is the main character, and the other two are more like side characters. Which is totally fine, but the way the story dedicates its time to the latter two heroes feels disingenuous then. It’s not that less time should have been spent on them, but rather, their focus needed to be spread more evenly throughout the book. Because by the second half, June Dey and Norman Aragon are hardly present, so you kind of forget about them, and then they just show up at the end—again, because the plot needs them to.
Speaking of the ending, the book’s big final battle, where all of our characters join together to defend their new, independent home in Liberia, was somewhat jarring to me. This climactic moment that seemed like it would subsequently lead into a satisfying conclusion, with various character resolutions and such, simply ended on an abrupt note, with Gbessa’s death and the loose promise that she would come back to life at some point to continue the fight. Again, I get that this was probably the point—it draws a parallel to the never-ending battles that African peoples have faced and are continuing to face today—but it doesn’t stop the story from feeling somewhat incomplete, at least on paper.
Many of these issues bog down the pacing. Furthermore, the word flow isn’t as sharp as I think it could be; there were many moments where fewer words likely could have been used or certain details maybe could have been left out in favor of keeping the story moving. Again, I think spreading out the stories of each of the characters, especially June Dey and Norman Aragon, could have helped everything feel more consistently gripping.
I think all of these gripes of mine are also why I had to put the physical book down and just listen to the audiobook. Physically reading this one came as a bit of a challenge to me, with much of this feeling a bit verbose. It wasn’t helped by how chunky each of the “chapters” were either. Maybe that’s my own fault for trying to go at this one like how I read other books. Each time I sit down, I try to get through a full chapter, but that wasn’t working here. In the end, the audiobook was a big help, and even if certain aspects of the story didn’t quite work for me, I could still enjoy it for what it was.
Would I give She Would Be King my genuine recommendation? For whatever it’s worth, yes. Even if it wasn’t quite my cup of tea, I’m glad I gave it a shot. This story is still full of heart, something Moore makes perfectly clear from start to finish, and I’m sure there are many others out there who will find this to be an uplifting and empowering novel. Beyond that, it’s an enlightening read as well, especially for those looking to immerse themselves more in African culture and history, which deserve much more of our attention.
So, even if you already have a towering “To Be Read” pile, consider adding She Would Be King to your list. At the very least, you’ll walk away knowing more than you did before checking it out. At most, you’ll have found another good story from another powerful author.