Ours
Aba, a previously enslaved man, has traveled Arkansas with a woman called Saint as she systematically massacred plantation owners and overseers to free slaves and guide them to a place of safety called “Ours,” near St. Louis, where they can live freely: a place hidden from the white population that no one uninvited can find, even when it appears on a map. But what of the aftermath of being beaten, starved, raped and whipped? Saint’s conjure stones offer protection from outsiders, but can they safeguard the Ouhmey, who live in Ours, from the horrors of their past? The Ouhmey trust Saint’s supernatural powers, but when an unexpected death occurs and she does nothing to prevent it, a chain of unstoppable events is set in motion. Saint’s motives are called into question as the Ouhmey begin to fear and avoid her.
Williams’ ambitious novel is a powerful blend of realism and mysticism, unfolding over forty years, with supernatural elements weaving seamlessly through history before, during and after the Civil War. At once complex, poetic, visceral and melancholy, the novel muses on the nature of freedom and the lasting impact of slavery. What does true freedom look like in light of the necessity for Saint’s protection?
Ours is a measured read, demanding patience and, reaching the end, I couldn’t help feeling I wanted to start again to truly make sense of all the connections. Although sometimes overwhelmed by my scant knowledge of African mythology, hoodoo, root work, and ancestral spirits, I was deep inside this story. Saint is not the lone protagonist, as Williams’ many extraordinary characters leap from these pages, with their oddities and charm and bizarreness, focusing readers’ attention on the importance of acceptance of human uniqueness. Ours is a triumph, rich with revelations bubbling to the surface long after the last page turns.
