Finding Voice in the Underbelly of New York – A Review of Bright Red Fruit
As a lover of poetry and intricate storytelling, I was instantly drawn to Bright Red Fruit by Safia Elhillo, the celebrated author of Girls That Never Die. There’s something magnetic about a novel that weaves poetic verse into its narrative, especially one that explores identity and the yearning to be heard. I found myself immersed in Samira’s world—a Sudanese-American teenager navigating the complexities of life, love, and self-discovery against the vibrant backdrop of New York City.
Elhillo’s novel paints a multifaceted portrait of Samira, caught between her familial expectations and her own aspirations. The desire for validation pulses through her lines, echoing the sentiment beautifully captured in her reflection: “ever since i was small i’ve wanted to be loved.” This longing drives Samira to escape her stifling reputation back home and explore the poetry workshops of NYC. Yet, the city isn’t a pristine sanctuary; it’s littered with complications, including the manipulative presence of an older man, Horus, who becomes embroiled in her artistic aspirations and vulnerability.
One of the most striking aspects of Elhillo’s writing is her ability to integrate different forms into the narrative. Through emails, text exchanges, and Samira’s own poetry, the novel feels both modern and relatable, as if we’re peeling back layers of a young woman’s life. The pace, while reflective and introspective, never lingers too long; it matches the urgency of Samira’s struggle for independence and authenticity.
Elhillo’s use of the Persephone myth is both clever and poignant. Rather than a straightforward retelling, she gives a fresh voice to Samira—a character who feels like "meat" between the wills of her mother and her infatuation with Horus. Elhillo’s interpretation acts as a vehicle for examining agency and desire, shedding light on the often-overlooked emotional battles that young women face. As Samira navigates her conflicting feelings of love and expectation, her journey resonates deeply, especially for those who have ever felt bound by the opinions or needs of others.
Memorable lines like "here’s the story: in sixteen years my lips / have never been kissed, but my name spends years / kissed in every gossiping mouth” cut to the heart of societal judgment and the burdens it can impose. Elhillo’s poetic style is striking, with a rhythm that flows effortlessly, making each verse resonate long after reading.
Bright Red Fruit is not just a novel—it’s an exploration of identity, a harrowing yet hopeful coming-of-age tale, and a heartfelt commentary on the complexities of familial love. I wholeheartedly recommend it for readers who appreciate poetry, struggle with self-identity, or simply seek a meaningful narrative filled with warmth and resilience.
In the end, Elhillo has crafted a lush garden of words where each stanza blooms with authenticity, empathy, and nuance. Reading this novel was an enriching experience for me, and I believe it will leave an indelible mark on anyone looking to connect with their own voice amidst the noise of the world. 4.5/5