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Into the Go-Slow
A young black woman visits Africa on a quest for peace, meaning, and love in “a beautiful allegory at the heart of a realist novel� (Chris Abani, author of The Secret History of Las Vegas ).
In 1986 Detroit, twenty-one-year-old Angie is still mourning the death of her brilliant, radical sister, Ella, when she impulsively decides to pack up and go to the place where Ella tragically died four years Nigeria. There, Angie retraces her sister’s steps, all the while navigating the chaotic landscape of a major African country on the brink of democracy and careening toward a coup d’état.
At the center of her quest is a love affair that upends everything Angie thought she knew about herself. Against a backdrop of Nigeria’s infamous “go-slow”—traffic as wild and unpredictable as the country itself—Angie begins to unravel the mysteries of the past, and opens herself up to love and life after Ella.
In 1986 Detroit, twenty-one-year-old Angie is still mourning the death of her brilliant, radical sister, Ella, when she impulsively decides to pack up and go to the place where Ella tragically died four years Nigeria. There, Angie retraces her sister’s steps, all the while navigating the chaotic landscape of a major African country on the brink of democracy and careening toward a coup d’état.
At the center of her quest is a love affair that upends everything Angie thought she knew about herself. Against a backdrop of Nigeria’s infamous “go-slow”—traffic as wild and unpredictable as the country itself—Angie begins to unravel the mysteries of the past, and opens herself up to love and life after Ella.
360 pages, Paperback
First published August 18, 2014
48 people are currently reading
2,532 people want to read
About the author
Bridgett M. Davis
3books176followersBridgett M. Davis is an author, filmmaker, curator and teacher.
Davis' memoir, The World According To Fannie Davis: My Mother’s Life In The Detroit Numbers is a New York Times Editors� Choice, a 2020 Michigan Notable Book, and named a Best Book of 2019 by Kirkus Reviews, BuzzFeed, NBC News and Parade Magazine.
Davis is the author of two novels, Into the Go-Slow and Shifting Through Neutral, shortlisted for the Hurston/Wright Award.
As a professor at CUNY’s Baruch College, she teaches creative, film and narrative writing.
Davis is co-founder and curator for Words@Weeksville, a monthly reading series held at Weeksville Heritage Center in Central Brooklyn.
She is also writer/director of the critically acclaimed, award-winning feature film Naked Acts. The film and its elements are now housed in the permanent collection of Indiana University’s distinguished Black Film Center/Archive.
A graduate of Spelman College and Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism, Davis� essays have recently appeared in The New York Times, The Millions, Real Simple, O, The Oprah Magazine, Women’s Review of Books, The Los Angeles Times, and LitHub.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews
July 7, 2014
This is the story of Angie, a young woman from Detroit who travels to Lagos, Nigeria to unravel the mystery of her sister's death. Let me tell you that I loved this book from top to bottom, left to right.
Bridgette Davis writes about two hot-button locations-- Detroit and Lagos, yet she explores these settings without nostalgia or exoticism. She understands that these are REAL PLACES where REAL PEOPLE live. I connected all the characters, Angie, especially. Her pain so so vivid, but so is her big-hearted love for the people in her life.
I was lucky enough to get an early copy from the publisher and I have been wanting to talk about it ever since. This book covers so much ground-- frank and honest talk about addiction, the hidden costs of the Great Migration. She asks whether or no African Americans can ever really go "home" to Africa. The love story contained on these pages will break your heart, and mend it too. There's so much going on, but you never take your mind off the big question: What happened to Angie's sister, Ella? Will Angie ever find out? Who can she trust? Does she really want to know the truth?
(They say the truth will set your free, but that freedom doesn't come easy.)
I'll stop here before I give too much away. But get this novel. You will love it.
Bridgette Davis writes about two hot-button locations-- Detroit and Lagos, yet she explores these settings without nostalgia or exoticism. She understands that these are REAL PLACES where REAL PEOPLE live. I connected all the characters, Angie, especially. Her pain so so vivid, but so is her big-hearted love for the people in her life.
I was lucky enough to get an early copy from the publisher and I have been wanting to talk about it ever since. This book covers so much ground-- frank and honest talk about addiction, the hidden costs of the Great Migration. She asks whether or no African Americans can ever really go "home" to Africa. The love story contained on these pages will break your heart, and mend it too. There's so much going on, but you never take your mind off the big question: What happened to Angie's sister, Ella? Will Angie ever find out? Who can she trust? Does she really want to know the truth?
(They say the truth will set your free, but that freedom doesn't come easy.)
I'll stop here before I give too much away. But get this novel. You will love it.
September 11, 2014
I fell in love with Bridgett Davis� writing when I read her first novel, Shifting Through Neutral, a book that I gave to so many book-loving friends that I have lost count. I am thrilled that her second novel, Into The Go-Slow, has been published and it is astonishing - a book of beauty, depth, and so much heart.
This wonderful book is set in the mid 1980s - a time in which the heady dreams of the �60s and �70s had begun to crumble - the dreams of empowerment for the black community in Detroit, the dream of political freedom and progressive action in Nigeria. Angie, the protagonist of this book, has lost her beloved older sister Ella under mysterious circumstances in Nigeria. The portrayal of Ella is amazing - a young woman whose passion for life leads her into excess at every turn, whose response to the question of enough is always, “Not even!� Angie cannot move forward without resolving her questions about sister’s life and death, and that quest takes her from Detroit to Nigeria. Davis, a Detroit native, captures the Detroit of the 1980s beautifully, but the descriptions of the varied regions and people of Nigeria are truly exceptional - no “single story� portrayal here!
The word that came to my mind most often while reading this book is not a Nigerian word, but an Akan word from Ghana - Sankofa. Sankofa means looking to the past for understanding in order to move into the future. Angie’s need to understand her sister’s life is the driving force of this book. I said when I read Shifting Through Neutral that Davis illuminates the heart of a younger sister better than any author I have read, and this book just strengthens that opinion. I was with Angie every step of the way, through her loss and heartbreak and search for healing. This is a beautiful, unforgettable book.
This wonderful book is set in the mid 1980s - a time in which the heady dreams of the �60s and �70s had begun to crumble - the dreams of empowerment for the black community in Detroit, the dream of political freedom and progressive action in Nigeria. Angie, the protagonist of this book, has lost her beloved older sister Ella under mysterious circumstances in Nigeria. The portrayal of Ella is amazing - a young woman whose passion for life leads her into excess at every turn, whose response to the question of enough is always, “Not even!� Angie cannot move forward without resolving her questions about sister’s life and death, and that quest takes her from Detroit to Nigeria. Davis, a Detroit native, captures the Detroit of the 1980s beautifully, but the descriptions of the varied regions and people of Nigeria are truly exceptional - no “single story� portrayal here!
The word that came to my mind most often while reading this book is not a Nigerian word, but an Akan word from Ghana - Sankofa. Sankofa means looking to the past for understanding in order to move into the future. Angie’s need to understand her sister’s life is the driving force of this book. I said when I read Shifting Through Neutral that Davis illuminates the heart of a younger sister better than any author I have read, and this book just strengthens that opinion. I was with Angie every step of the way, through her loss and heartbreak and search for healing. This is a beautiful, unforgettable book.
September 24, 2014
"There are plenty of ways to be black in this world." I'm paraphrasing the mother of the main character, Angie, in Bridgett M. Davis' "Into the Go Slow." In many ways, that feels like the thesis of this engrossing work. Exploring blackness and how different cultures approach it seems to be a central conceit of this novel. Angie considers herself the odd woman out in her family, which now consists of just her mother and middle sister. Her father, a horse trainer (one of few black men who pioneered in the profession), passed when she was young. Her oldest sister, Ella, died in Nigeria nearly four years before the action of the novel begins.
Ella, though deceased, often feels like the true protagonist of the book. Angie's personality seems subsumed by an obsession with Ella's memory and with finding out what really happened her in the last days of her life. Ella is a deeply complicated figure and much of the book is spent describing her. Ella's compulsive/addictive personality. Ella's addiction. Ella's relationships. Ella's travels.
Because we're given all this info through Angie, the kid sister who idolized her (and also felt eclipsed by her), Angie herself seems like an afterthought. What we come to understand is that she's just as compulsive/addictive as her sister, when it comes to following her tracks. At times, that obsession takes uncomfortable, odd turns and, while reading, I found myself a bit worried about Angie's mental health (her mother and sister seem similarly concerned).
I think we're supposed to accept that Angie's own trek to Nigeria and each step she takes toward reconciling her sister's death are empowering and healthy, that after she settles this, she'll get on with her life. But I was left wondering how that "moving on" process would go for her. She's sort of a blank slate throughout the narrative and when she's given a sense of direction at the end, it still feels rudderless for me. I wondered if the compulsions that drove her decisions in this novel would be brought to bear in other steps of her life.
It's a testament to Davis' vivid storytelling that I cared so much about her characters. They're complex, fully realized and diverse in ways that don't seem at all archetypal; everyone is his or her own
person, navigating what it means to black, whether in Detroit in the changing political landscape of a crumbling black power movement, or in Nigeria, struggling with government corruption and deep class divides. It's a very interesting read, thoughtful and worthwhile for reasons beyond the family saga at its center (although that family saga shouldn't be undersold; it's pretty incredible).
Read it.
Ella, though deceased, often feels like the true protagonist of the book. Angie's personality seems subsumed by an obsession with Ella's memory and with finding out what really happened her in the last days of her life. Ella is a deeply complicated figure and much of the book is spent describing her. Ella's compulsive/addictive personality. Ella's addiction. Ella's relationships. Ella's travels.
Because we're given all this info through Angie, the kid sister who idolized her (and also felt eclipsed by her), Angie herself seems like an afterthought. What we come to understand is that she's just as compulsive/addictive as her sister, when it comes to following her tracks. At times, that obsession takes uncomfortable, odd turns and, while reading, I found myself a bit worried about Angie's mental health (her mother and sister seem similarly concerned).
I think we're supposed to accept that Angie's own trek to Nigeria and each step she takes toward reconciling her sister's death are empowering and healthy, that after she settles this, she'll get on with her life. But I was left wondering how that "moving on" process would go for her. She's sort of a blank slate throughout the narrative and when she's given a sense of direction at the end, it still feels rudderless for me. I wondered if the compulsions that drove her decisions in this novel would be brought to bear in other steps of her life.
It's a testament to Davis' vivid storytelling that I cared so much about her characters. They're complex, fully realized and diverse in ways that don't seem at all archetypal; everyone is his or her own
person, navigating what it means to black, whether in Detroit in the changing political landscape of a crumbling black power movement, or in Nigeria, struggling with government corruption and deep class divides. It's a very interesting read, thoughtful and worthwhile for reasons beyond the family saga at its center (although that family saga shouldn't be undersold; it's pretty incredible).
Read it.
September 1, 2014
I read Ms. Davis's first novel and happily purchased this one when publication was announced. I was not disappointed. A young woman, Angie, mourns her older sister, Ella, who died abruptly without adequate explanation. Angie's inability to come to terms with her sister's death stunts her own life and leaves her adrift. Into the Go-Slow is set in two fascinating places, Detroit during the 60's through 80's, and Nigeria during the 80's. In the first half of the novel, Ms. Davis does an excellent job of providing a glimpse of the excitement of the 60s/70s for those who were politically active and the disappointments of the 80s. She brilliantly handles the resulting progression of Ella's addiction as seen through the eyes of her family. Thankfully, Ms. Davis avoids the tedium so common in novels that deal with addiction (contrast several hundred pages of adolescent drug experimentation that could have been cut from The Goldfinch). Instead, she describes just enough for the reader to really "get it." Less is more. And the chapters dealing with Ella's addiction served up a huge emotional punch. Then the second half of the book deals with Angie's time in Nigeria, where she unravels the truth of Ella's life and death there. Again, the subject was fascinating and the events were often surprising. Overall, In The Go-Slow delivers enlightenment about important historical and cultural events, as well as absorbing characters and an engaging coming-of-age story. I particularly loved the Ella character as she was artfully revealed in the first half of the novel. The entire cast of supporting characters was great -- Angie's mother and sister, Nigel, and the Nigerian hosts -- all worthy of long memory. I sometimes felt Angie, the main character, was less sympathetic and interesting than the others, perhaps too realistically self-absorbed as a young woman barely out of adolescence; but in the end, the reader receives a wholly satisfying story through her eyes, and roots for her. Kudos to Ms. Davis for this expertly written and thoroughly researched novel.
October 17, 2014
Excellent storytelling. A story of grief, love, blackness and so much more. Taking you from Detroit to Nigeria with such vivid description you can envision it. The characters are so well developed you are interested and vested even in the secondary characters. My words don't adequately describe how wonderful it was to read this book you will have to read it yourself. Purchasing my own copy for my library.
August 25, 2016
4.5 - Great novel that should have more exposure. A novel of identity, family, and love. Rich with details of Nigeria from a Black-American perspective. Listing this as a favorite novel of mines! Ms. Davis is a fantastic writer.
October 4, 2014
I inhaled it. A truly fine novel. An important novel. Not to mention un-put-down-able.
December 9, 2014
This was a beautiful and captivating story. It should be made into a movie! I look forward to reading more by Bridgett Davis.
September 13, 2014
Beautiful and exquisite, a winding mystery wrapped up in a love story topped by international adventure and intrigue. Enjoyed immensely, can't wait to hear Bridgette speak at Spelman!
October 13, 2014
Excellent!
November 3, 2014
I’ve always hated not having a sister and it’s books like Into the Go-Slow that always reconfirm to me just how much I’m missing out. The story of younger sister Angie’s idolization and parallel horrification at her older sister’s behavior provide such a complex sister dynamic, you’re definitely be rolling your eyes the next time someone tells you “Frozen� is such a deep look at sister relationship.
The novel takes off in 1986, and Angie’s older sister Ella has been dead for a few years. Still, there are pieces of Ella that haunt Angie, control the way she lives her life still. For instance, she refuses to leave Detroit, the place her sister spent most of her life, even as her mother and her other older sister opt for a new life in the south. By the time we meet Angie, she’s taking on her older sister’s obsession with Africa, Fela Kuti, even becoming involved with the same men and women Angie spent her time with.
It’s tragic, though, despite Angie’s following in Ella’s footsteps, Ella’s old friends can’t see it. While Ella was the outspoken life of the party, fuel to any environment, Angie is more likely to stand back and soak it all in. And there are the physical differences as well � while Ella was full-bodied, Angie’s thin frame keeps people from making the connection that the two could have been sisters.
It’s around this time that Angie decides she must follow in another one of Ella’s footsteps. She decides she must visit Nigeria, the place were Ella was killed years earlier, hit by a car while crossing the road. Angie is desperate to meet the people who knew Ella closely, who were with her in the moments before her death.
There’s so much at play at this point. Not only is Angie going to find out about Ella, she’s leaving to find out about herself. An obsession with Africa, their forefathers homeland, a passion for the women of Nigeria and a job as a reporter for an independent Nigerian newspaper were what worked to pull Ella out of a downward spiral; Angie hopes diving into the same, tracing the same trails will lead her to discover more about herself. As her mother heartbreakingly tells Angie: “I think there are a lot of ways to be black in this world, and I think you just need to find yours.�
At this point, there’s already so much I have heard about yet know I’ll never understand. Sure, I have an older brother and know what it’s like to follow in another’s footsteps (literally, every time I had the same math/science teacher following my brother, having to explain that I’m better at writing/art as they gave me that look of shock handing back the first assignment), but from all accounts I’ve heard, this is nothing like following a same-sex sibling. People expect you to look the same, to talk the same, to be the same girl. I can’t imagine having my way carved out before me like that.
What makes it even more complex for Angie is that, despite Ella’s success and joy as a writer during the last few years of her life, so much of her life was spent addicted to drugs, battling the demons of addiction. For so long, Ella was no one to look up to, and even a young Angie realized this. Despite the horrible things her sister would do while high, though, Angie would never distance herself. Of course she saw the flaws and harm Ella’s actions had on the rest of the women in the family, yet, it seems Angie would rather bury that Ella, keep the memory of the thriving, wise Ella in Africa alive only.
And then, there’s the tension of being black in America. That line the mother said really stuck with me: “There’s a lot of ways to be black in this world.� As a white person, I don’t think I’ve ever actually taken a minute to think about what kind of white person I should be. As with most whites, I have a vague pride in my national heritage, but have never truly felt defined or discriminated against because of it.
And then my curiosity is peaked � what are the ways to be black in this world? It seems, coming from this novel, there’s to take on your skin color, to delve into the history and current circumstances of your people, to really connect with your African roots; or to try to move past the racialization of everything, to try your damnedest to live in a colorblind world despite it all, as Angie’s mother and middle sister do. Are these the choices? I’ll never know. Privileged as I am with my white skin, I will never truly have to understand what it means to be black in America, in the world, in life.
Basically this: Into the Go-Slow will teach you something, give you a meaty story about how a person should be no matter their skin color, origins, or past.
The novel takes off in 1986, and Angie’s older sister Ella has been dead for a few years. Still, there are pieces of Ella that haunt Angie, control the way she lives her life still. For instance, she refuses to leave Detroit, the place her sister spent most of her life, even as her mother and her other older sister opt for a new life in the south. By the time we meet Angie, she’s taking on her older sister’s obsession with Africa, Fela Kuti, even becoming involved with the same men and women Angie spent her time with.
It’s tragic, though, despite Angie’s following in Ella’s footsteps, Ella’s old friends can’t see it. While Ella was the outspoken life of the party, fuel to any environment, Angie is more likely to stand back and soak it all in. And there are the physical differences as well � while Ella was full-bodied, Angie’s thin frame keeps people from making the connection that the two could have been sisters.
It’s around this time that Angie decides she must follow in another one of Ella’s footsteps. She decides she must visit Nigeria, the place were Ella was killed years earlier, hit by a car while crossing the road. Angie is desperate to meet the people who knew Ella closely, who were with her in the moments before her death.
There’s so much at play at this point. Not only is Angie going to find out about Ella, she’s leaving to find out about herself. An obsession with Africa, their forefathers homeland, a passion for the women of Nigeria and a job as a reporter for an independent Nigerian newspaper were what worked to pull Ella out of a downward spiral; Angie hopes diving into the same, tracing the same trails will lead her to discover more about herself. As her mother heartbreakingly tells Angie: “I think there are a lot of ways to be black in this world, and I think you just need to find yours.�
At this point, there’s already so much I have heard about yet know I’ll never understand. Sure, I have an older brother and know what it’s like to follow in another’s footsteps (literally, every time I had the same math/science teacher following my brother, having to explain that I’m better at writing/art as they gave me that look of shock handing back the first assignment), but from all accounts I’ve heard, this is nothing like following a same-sex sibling. People expect you to look the same, to talk the same, to be the same girl. I can’t imagine having my way carved out before me like that.
What makes it even more complex for Angie is that, despite Ella’s success and joy as a writer during the last few years of her life, so much of her life was spent addicted to drugs, battling the demons of addiction. For so long, Ella was no one to look up to, and even a young Angie realized this. Despite the horrible things her sister would do while high, though, Angie would never distance herself. Of course she saw the flaws and harm Ella’s actions had on the rest of the women in the family, yet, it seems Angie would rather bury that Ella, keep the memory of the thriving, wise Ella in Africa alive only.
And then, there’s the tension of being black in America. That line the mother said really stuck with me: “There’s a lot of ways to be black in this world.� As a white person, I don’t think I’ve ever actually taken a minute to think about what kind of white person I should be. As with most whites, I have a vague pride in my national heritage, but have never truly felt defined or discriminated against because of it.
And then my curiosity is peaked � what are the ways to be black in this world? It seems, coming from this novel, there’s to take on your skin color, to delve into the history and current circumstances of your people, to really connect with your African roots; or to try to move past the racialization of everything, to try your damnedest to live in a colorblind world despite it all, as Angie’s mother and middle sister do. Are these the choices? I’ll never know. Privileged as I am with my white skin, I will never truly have to understand what it means to be black in America, in the world, in life.
Basically this: Into the Go-Slow will teach you something, give you a meaty story about how a person should be no matter their skin color, origins, or past.
December 14, 2015
“Into the Go-Slow� is an ambitious novel that attempts to tell the very personal story of a young woman grieving her sister while also exploring larger themes of “how to be black in the world.�
Set in 1987, it maps Angie Mackenzie’s fraught journey to retrace her deceased sister Ella’s steps from Detroit to Lagos, and bring a sense of closure to her mourning. Since Ella’s death, Angie had been stuck–unable to forge her own identity. She’s lived instead “as a kind of caretaker to the obsessions Ella left behind, an executor of her sister’s Afrocentric politics, new age beliefs, Fela Kuti devotion.�
But by 1987, four years after Ella’s death, times had changed. The African Liberation Day celebration in Detroit had shriveled, Fela was strung out, and Angie sporting her dead sister’s caftan and haunting her grave was long-past worrisome. She set off for Lagos Island, Ikeja and Surulera on a “hajj of some sort, yearn[ing] to return more certain of who she was, of what she could do in the world. Figure out what type of black person to be.�
Author Bridgett Davis makes a risky choice in telling this story through Angie, a thin, grasping imitation of Ella. It mutes the book’s most lively character and reduces Ella’s charisma and many compelling experiences to plot points along Angie’s quest for resolution. The effect is to dampen the urgency of some of the book’s best material. Pivotal moments in Ella’s life become, in Angie’s mind, mere explanations for her ultimate demise, making the tale a bit too pat and tidy.
Davis references a great deal of African-American history–the family’s migration north, Jim Crow, “black firsts� (the first black woman jockey, the first black woman congresswoman�), the Black Power movement. It provides important context for Angie’s journey and a counterpoint to what she learns of African current events, illuminating the dramatic personal, social and cultural change sweeping through countries on two continents.
Occasionally, though, the historical references to coups and crack, apartheid and AIDS feel forced into a story that’s principally about grieving, not racial consciousness. That Ella was “deep into the struggle, a dedicated Pan-Africanist� feels less important than that she was dynamic, loved, and greatly missed.
Stalking Ella’s memory proves to be extremely dangerous for a single woman in Nigeria, and naive Angie belatedly realizes that Ella didn’t make her journeys to Africa alone. Big sis was always a part of a delegation or with her on-again-off-again boyfriend Nigel. Davis hits her stride in the latter part of the book when she vividly describes Nigeria in all its poverty and prosperity, with many shades of lifestyle, identity, and culture in between. It’s a much more textured depiction than the one offered of Detroit, which is principally set in stores or in front of television sets.
Like the “go-slow� in Lagos for which the book is named–its notorious traffic–the novel’s direction is clear from the outset, but so dense with characters and activity that you don’t know when you’ll arrive. Be forewarned. It’s quite a ride and the destination may not warrant the travel.
Set in 1987, it maps Angie Mackenzie’s fraught journey to retrace her deceased sister Ella’s steps from Detroit to Lagos, and bring a sense of closure to her mourning. Since Ella’s death, Angie had been stuck–unable to forge her own identity. She’s lived instead “as a kind of caretaker to the obsessions Ella left behind, an executor of her sister’s Afrocentric politics, new age beliefs, Fela Kuti devotion.�
But by 1987, four years after Ella’s death, times had changed. The African Liberation Day celebration in Detroit had shriveled, Fela was strung out, and Angie sporting her dead sister’s caftan and haunting her grave was long-past worrisome. She set off for Lagos Island, Ikeja and Surulera on a “hajj of some sort, yearn[ing] to return more certain of who she was, of what she could do in the world. Figure out what type of black person to be.�
Author Bridgett Davis makes a risky choice in telling this story through Angie, a thin, grasping imitation of Ella. It mutes the book’s most lively character and reduces Ella’s charisma and many compelling experiences to plot points along Angie’s quest for resolution. The effect is to dampen the urgency of some of the book’s best material. Pivotal moments in Ella’s life become, in Angie’s mind, mere explanations for her ultimate demise, making the tale a bit too pat and tidy.
Davis references a great deal of African-American history–the family’s migration north, Jim Crow, “black firsts� (the first black woman jockey, the first black woman congresswoman�), the Black Power movement. It provides important context for Angie’s journey and a counterpoint to what she learns of African current events, illuminating the dramatic personal, social and cultural change sweeping through countries on two continents.
Occasionally, though, the historical references to coups and crack, apartheid and AIDS feel forced into a story that’s principally about grieving, not racial consciousness. That Ella was “deep into the struggle, a dedicated Pan-Africanist� feels less important than that she was dynamic, loved, and greatly missed.
Stalking Ella’s memory proves to be extremely dangerous for a single woman in Nigeria, and naive Angie belatedly realizes that Ella didn’t make her journeys to Africa alone. Big sis was always a part of a delegation or with her on-again-off-again boyfriend Nigel. Davis hits her stride in the latter part of the book when she vividly describes Nigeria in all its poverty and prosperity, with many shades of lifestyle, identity, and culture in between. It’s a much more textured depiction than the one offered of Detroit, which is principally set in stores or in front of television sets.
Like the “go-slow� in Lagos for which the book is named–its notorious traffic–the novel’s direction is clear from the outset, but so dense with characters and activity that you don’t know when you’ll arrive. Be forewarned. It’s quite a ride and the destination may not warrant the travel.
May 16, 2016
Davis gives us a peek into the life of the Mackenzie family of Detroit, MI. Specifically she focuses this stories on the daughters of the family, the narrowly the intense and almost idolatrous relationship between the youngest daughter Angie and the oldest daughter Ella. The story is narrated by Angie, who is completely consumed by her sister Ella's life and death, that she basically resumes Ella's life. While the book is quite disturbing at times and Angie's obsession borders on insanity, it is a good read. I wish Davis would have given us Ella's voice, I understand the book is not about her, but she is the one with the "juicy" story! Overall I felt sorry for Angie, she was so interested in her sister's Ella's life that she basically had no life of her own. Though the book ends with Angie finally moving on and living her life it doesn't seem like she is excited or satisfied with the life she eventually chose.
November 16, 2014
In the acknowledgements, Ms. Davis mentions that she was encouraged by many to finish this novel, and I am so glad she did. Into the Go-Slow was a journey back in time, seamlessly incorporating history, politics, and pop culture into its storyline. Angie wants to know everything she can find out about her sister, Ella. She tells Ella's story here in a way that brings her to life in the mind of the reader. But later, you will be right there with Angie when others bring Ella to life for her in a similar way. For me, this book is not simply Ella's story, it's Nigeria's story. It will take you to all the highs and lows and you won't soon forget it.
October 11, 2015
While the story is told from Angie's point of view, Ella seems like the stronger character. At times I wanted to smack Angie because she had no sense of herself without Ella. She was blind to how the people around her and the world had changed since Ella's death. I realize this is due to the author's great writing skill.
November 2, 2014
Loved this novel! It starts with a family in Detroit and tracks sisters travel to Lagos, Nigeria during the 1980s. A fast paced plot, great characters, vivid settings. I recommended it to all of my Detroit girlfriends.
January 11, 2015
3.5 Last 150 pages of the story moves quicker than first half. At times the main character Angie will annoy you, but by the end not so much. The authors storytelling style kel me reading and held my attention!
February 21, 2015
This was a 3.5 read for me.
February 9, 2015
Good but dragged on at times for too long a operiod. Could have been shorter but it was a good story.
January 16, 2015
This was a beautifully written love story of two sisters. It is about so many different kinds of love, and it includes historic elements that take you to time and place so brilliantly.
August 7, 2018
Overall, the storyline was pretty good, but Angie was so annoying and it was hard to enjoy the story since you are reading through her perspective.
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August 29, 2014PRE-ORDERED!
July 22, 2018
This was a pretty good read. Angie goes on a trip to Africa to experience the same things her sister did. In the process she uncovers truth.
September 28, 2018
This coming of age story shows the growing up isn't simple, especially if one has no sense of self.
August 14, 2019
For someone who doesn't read a whole lotta fiction, this was a beautiful book. So raw, full of hope, and self-discovery. I can't wait to read more of her work.
April 24, 2016
Angie has just graduated from college, but, still mourning the death of her older sister, Ella, she has no clear plan for what to do next. Her mother is ready to move on, away from a declining Detroit and into a new life, but Angie fears that leaving Detroit means leaving behind memories of Ella. She sets out for Nigeria, hoping to find peace and her own direction by retracing Ella’s steps in the last weeks of her life.
The story within Into the Go-Slow by Bridgett M. Davis is intriguing. As an eldest sister, I found Angie’s difficulty in defining herself separate from her relationship to her elder sisters interesting. I admit, I’ve always been too mired in the responsibility of being the Little Mom to put much effort into imagining what my younger siblings� experience of me as their Big Sister was. Seeing this experience through Angie’s eyes was an interesting shift of perspective for me.
Another shift in perspective came when Angie arrived in Lagos and experienced for the first time being surrounded by people who looked like her. Of course, I’m not surprised that the majority of people in Lagos are black, but for some reason it really struck me this time just how much I take for granted the experience of being surrounded by people of my own race here in the US. (I think if Angie had been willing to visit Atlanta with her other sister, she’d have had a similar experience of race, but Nigeria’s a much more interesting destination and has the benefit of having a history that feels less personal for someone who's grown up in the US than the South does, which allows Angie to feel the joy of being in a black culture without the automatic awareness of its history and the failures of the government in which it exists. She feels this joy and can find out the other stuff later, whereas in Atlanta, her knowledge of the history of the place might have influenced her experience from the beginning.)
I also enjoyed the ways in which Davis juxtaposed the negatives of Nigeria with those in the United States. I particularly smiled at this reference:
Of course, the downside of these comparisons is that I’m already in a fairly perpetually crappy mood about the US, and it really doesn’t help my frame of mind to be reminded that the situation isn’t necessarily any better in most of the rest of the world.
As much as I liked the story, though, Davis� execution lacked the subtlety I prefer in my fiction. An example, from when Angie first arrived in Nigeria:
I want that kind of thing to unfold more quietly and in a way that invites me to put the pieces together myself rather than having them handed to me. Instead the references were direct, the metaphors blatant, and that left me disappointed as a reader.
That said, I enjoyed reading this book, especially the Nigeria half. Davis really did a solid job describing Lagos and Kano. I felt immersed in the heat and the chaos and how they influenced Angie’s frame of mind. I think the book might have been stronger if Ella’s story had been interspersed with the Nigeria parts, but it also might have been more clunky, so I’ll refrain from any more armchair editing.
The story within Into the Go-Slow by Bridgett M. Davis is intriguing. As an eldest sister, I found Angie’s difficulty in defining herself separate from her relationship to her elder sisters interesting. I admit, I’ve always been too mired in the responsibility of being the Little Mom to put much effort into imagining what my younger siblings� experience of me as their Big Sister was. Seeing this experience through Angie’s eyes was an interesting shift of perspective for me.
Another shift in perspective came when Angie arrived in Lagos and experienced for the first time being surrounded by people who looked like her. Of course, I’m not surprised that the majority of people in Lagos are black, but for some reason it really struck me this time just how much I take for granted the experience of being surrounded by people of my own race here in the US. (I think if Angie had been willing to visit Atlanta with her other sister, she’d have had a similar experience of race, but Nigeria’s a much more interesting destination and has the benefit of having a history that feels less personal for someone who's grown up in the US than the South does, which allows Angie to feel the joy of being in a black culture without the automatic awareness of its history and the failures of the government in which it exists. She feels this joy and can find out the other stuff later, whereas in Atlanta, her knowledge of the history of the place might have influenced her experience from the beginning.)
I also enjoyed the ways in which Davis juxtaposed the negatives of Nigeria with those in the United States. I particularly smiled at this reference:
“The first time Shagari had gotten into office, the whole thing had to be handled by the military and they used some convoluted vote-counting system that no one could figure out. Court ended up deciding who won the election. Can you imagine that shit happening in the US? Judges deciding who gets to be president?� (276)
Of course, the downside of these comparisons is that I’m already in a fairly perpetually crappy mood about the US, and it really doesn’t help my frame of mind to be reminded that the situation isn’t necessarily any better in most of the rest of the world.
As much as I liked the story, though, Davis� execution lacked the subtlety I prefer in my fiction. An example, from when Angie first arrived in Nigeria:
“All she had to do was wait, be patient, and Ella would return---as she did back in the old days at the racetrack. Even when Angie could barely see her, a dot on the other side of the stretch, Ella always came back round.� (137)
I want that kind of thing to unfold more quietly and in a way that invites me to put the pieces together myself rather than having them handed to me. Instead the references were direct, the metaphors blatant, and that left me disappointed as a reader.
That said, I enjoyed reading this book, especially the Nigeria half. Davis really did a solid job describing Lagos and Kano. I felt immersed in the heat and the chaos and how they influenced Angie’s frame of mind. I think the book might have been stronger if Ella’s story had been interspersed with the Nigeria parts, but it also might have been more clunky, so I’ll refrain from any more armchair editing.
April 15, 2015
No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man. --Heraclitus
A dream is a hope, the thing with feathers. Fly them too low and gravity can overtake you, fly too high and get burned by the sun. Is it better to reach high and burn or to never take off at all. These are the dilemmas in Bridget Davis's Into the Go Slow.
Angie is in the aftermath of the hope and destruction of her older sister Ella. Once the pride of her father, his sudden death smashes all of her dreams and leads her spiraling into drugs and self-destruction. With the help of Angie Ella seemingly pulls out of her death spiral and sprouts new wings in Nigeria. Her sudden death in a car accident leaves Angie reeling and her family worries she will set into the same path. Angie is trying to find her own way forward and hopes by reliving part of Ella's life she can answer the questions of what if and also answer what her own future will be.
Nigeria, known as the Go-Slow to the locals (referring to the traffic), is a mysterious place. It brings Angie in search of her sister and her own passion. She finds hope but so much disappointmentin retracing Ella's steps. It's like her sister's ghost is following her throughout the story. She meets old acquaintances both good and sinister. In hoping to learn the truth of her death and experience what she did, she hopes to find her own future in Ella's stunted one.
Davis combines Teju Cole's Everyday is for the Thief, Charles Blow's Fire Shut Up in My Bones, and Michael Chabon's Telegraph Avenue in this wonderful journey of a book. Davis is brilliant in how she can juxtapose a family tragedy with the Black Power movement. A stifled movement against Reaganomics of the 80s, both Angie and the movement find a second act in ending Apartheid in South Africa.
Favorite Passages
Even though she knew she was headed to an African country, she hadn't been prepared for this, for dark-skinned men and women moving through a public space with ease and grace. Instantly, she understood Ella's devotion to the Pan-African movement. This is what it was all about--black people in charge, running their own country. She felt like a girl who'd landed in a scene from The Wiz, it's Afro-Oz long hidden from view. And now she found it. P. 126
"I'm just telling it like it is...the American press wants to read one thing about Africa--stories of untold suffering. Preferably told through they eyes of one person--a boy soldier, a woman raped by an entire rebel force, a child prostitute supporting her family, a man who's seen his wife and kids hacked to death by tribal enemies. Those stories get sold." P. 264
The Black Power movement, Nigel said, which had limped along in the seventies, was non-existent. All the big brothers and sisters they'd admired? In the ground, locked up, or fucked up. Huey Newton was a drug addict, Eldridge Cleaver was a Republican. Bobby Seale was denouncing guns and wearing three-piece suits. And Assata Shakur was still hiding out in Cuba. Killer cops were on a rampage in the city's ghettos. And with Reagan in office, white supremacist groups flourished. Life for black folks in America was hazardous, pure and simple. P. 272
A dream is a hope, the thing with feathers. Fly them too low and gravity can overtake you, fly too high and get burned by the sun. Is it better to reach high and burn or to never take off at all. These are the dilemmas in Bridget Davis's Into the Go Slow.
Angie is in the aftermath of the hope and destruction of her older sister Ella. Once the pride of her father, his sudden death smashes all of her dreams and leads her spiraling into drugs and self-destruction. With the help of Angie Ella seemingly pulls out of her death spiral and sprouts new wings in Nigeria. Her sudden death in a car accident leaves Angie reeling and her family worries she will set into the same path. Angie is trying to find her own way forward and hopes by reliving part of Ella's life she can answer the questions of what if and also answer what her own future will be.
Nigeria, known as the Go-Slow to the locals (referring to the traffic), is a mysterious place. It brings Angie in search of her sister and her own passion. She finds hope but so much disappointmentin retracing Ella's steps. It's like her sister's ghost is following her throughout the story. She meets old acquaintances both good and sinister. In hoping to learn the truth of her death and experience what she did, she hopes to find her own future in Ella's stunted one.
Davis combines Teju Cole's Everyday is for the Thief, Charles Blow's Fire Shut Up in My Bones, and Michael Chabon's Telegraph Avenue in this wonderful journey of a book. Davis is brilliant in how she can juxtapose a family tragedy with the Black Power movement. A stifled movement against Reaganomics of the 80s, both Angie and the movement find a second act in ending Apartheid in South Africa.
Favorite Passages
Even though she knew she was headed to an African country, she hadn't been prepared for this, for dark-skinned men and women moving through a public space with ease and grace. Instantly, she understood Ella's devotion to the Pan-African movement. This is what it was all about--black people in charge, running their own country. She felt like a girl who'd landed in a scene from The Wiz, it's Afro-Oz long hidden from view. And now she found it. P. 126
"I'm just telling it like it is...the American press wants to read one thing about Africa--stories of untold suffering. Preferably told through they eyes of one person--a boy soldier, a woman raped by an entire rebel force, a child prostitute supporting her family, a man who's seen his wife and kids hacked to death by tribal enemies. Those stories get sold." P. 264
The Black Power movement, Nigel said, which had limped along in the seventies, was non-existent. All the big brothers and sisters they'd admired? In the ground, locked up, or fucked up. Huey Newton was a drug addict, Eldridge Cleaver was a Republican. Bobby Seale was denouncing guns and wearing three-piece suits. And Assata Shakur was still hiding out in Cuba. Killer cops were on a rampage in the city's ghettos. And with Reagan in office, white supremacist groups flourished. Life for black folks in America was hazardous, pure and simple. P. 272
April 21, 2015
This is a novel about sisters and relationships, but most of all about identity. Angie has always been overshadowed by her daring older sister Ella, whose involvement in the Pan-African movement of the 1970s takes her from Detroit to Nigeria. After Ella is killed in a traffic accident, Angie’s profound grieving propels her to follow her sister’s trail through the world. The contrast between Ella’s embrace of many different identities and Angie’s loosing herself in memories of Ella is profound and highlights a third theme--what it means to be African American. Told with a film maker’s eye, this novel will take you to places you’ve never been before and make you see them as clearly as your own house. This complex, beautifully written novel, it will make you analyze your own race and identity in new and potentially profound ways.
I loved the novel and while I was reading it, wished more books were as rich as this one, and took on such tough subjects. I never stopped to think about how to construct my life as a white person. I therefore found it fascinating to see the role race and identity played in this novel, and it made me pause to reevaluate why I had never thought about my own status. It is something I will be thinking about a lot in the future.
Despite that am giving it only four stars for one reason, the end. I don't think that the book could or should have ended any other way, but Angie's transformation was too quick for me. The fact that the novel's "lesson" was explicitly stated in the epilogue also detracted from the whole. It had been such a carefully constructed piece--a work of art really--with realistic people, whether you liked them or agreed with their choices or not, that I think it deserved a more nuanced ending. Still, it was a good book and I am looking forward to reading Davis' first novel soon.
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I loved the novel and while I was reading it, wished more books were as rich as this one, and took on such tough subjects. I never stopped to think about how to construct my life as a white person. I therefore found it fascinating to see the role race and identity played in this novel, and it made me pause to reevaluate why I had never thought about my own status. It is something I will be thinking about a lot in the future.
Despite that am giving it only four stars for one reason, the end. I don't think that the book could or should have ended any other way, but Angie's transformation was too quick for me. The fact that the novel's "lesson" was explicitly stated in the epilogue also detracted from the whole. It had been such a carefully constructed piece--a work of art really--with realistic people, whether you liked them or agreed with their choices or not, that I think it deserved a more nuanced ending. Still, it was a good book and I am looking forward to reading Davis' first novel soon.
.
May 3, 2016
I really enjoyed this book. I loved that it was set in my hometown of Detroit and it actually felt like it. The writer really captured the spirit of the city. I think the story of Angie and her family was wonderfully done. It did a great job looking at the issue of drug abuse and the way that it affects the family members of an addict. I love how when Angie goes to Nigeria, Davis is willing to show both the good and the bad of the country. I find that a lot of stories where Americans go to Africa are either unrealistically negative or unrealistically positive. I feel like Angie's experience is balanced. There's a romance that occurs in this book that I'm not sure I really like but it doesn't take away from my overall experience of this book.
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December 14, 2015
I could see this on a book club list: readers can discuss identity, politics, race, and grief.
I heard the author speak at a book festival and was enthralled with her reading and summary of the book. Unfortunately I wasn't as enthralled with reading it - I liked it but it's dense, which isn't necessarily a bad thing it's just emotional. Angie spent the entire book chasing after a ghost and at first you feel sorry for her but as she interacts with her sister Ella's former friends she's indignant toward them and she lost sympathy points because of it. She's naive and immature and has some growing up to do. It's really a book about self-discovery told in the shadow of a deceased older sibling. I could have done without some of the backstory but I appreciated the family history isn't a sad tale about a single mom who allows her children to fall to drugs.
The characters are very realistic. Everyone knows a Nigel and an Ella and the author flawlessly writes about race both in the states and (more in-depth) lawless Nigeria. Simply put there are more ups than downs.
I heard the author speak at a book festival and was enthralled with her reading and summary of the book. Unfortunately I wasn't as enthralled with reading it - I liked it but it's dense, which isn't necessarily a bad thing it's just emotional. Angie spent the entire book chasing after a ghost and at first you feel sorry for her but as she interacts with her sister Ella's former friends she's indignant toward them and she lost sympathy points because of it. She's naive and immature and has some growing up to do. It's really a book about self-discovery told in the shadow of a deceased older sibling. I could have done without some of the backstory but I appreciated the family history isn't a sad tale about a single mom who allows her children to fall to drugs.
The characters are very realistic. Everyone knows a Nigel and an Ella and the author flawlessly writes about race both in the states and (more in-depth) lawless Nigeria. Simply put there are more ups than downs.
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