BELOVED is a holy space made of words. Across the street from Washington Square Park, in New York City's historic Judson Memorial Church, Namwali Serpell, writer Vinson Cunningham, and our live audience invoke the hauntings of Morrison's most celebrated novel. Reading from BELOVED's final, stunning page, Namwali and Vinson trace how Morrison imbues meaning on the level of syntax and crafts her words into a story that cannot be forgotten.

Here is the passage Vinson reads from Toni Morrison's BELOVED:

"It was not a story to pass on.

They forgot her like a bad dream. After they made up their tales, shaped and decorated them, those that saw her that day on the porch quickly and deliberately forgot her. It took longer for those who had spoken to her, lived with her, fallen in love with her, to forget, until they realized they couldn't remember or repeat a single thing she said, and began to believe that, other than what they themselves were thinking, she hadn't said anything at all. So, in the end, they forgot her too. Remembering seemed unwise. They never knew where or why she crouched, or whose was the underwater face she needed like that. Where the memory of the smile under her chin might have been and was not, a latch latched and lichen attached its apple-green bloom to the metal. What made her think her fingernails could open locks the rain rained on?

It was not a story to pass on.

So they forgot her. Like an unpleasant dream during a troubling sleep. Occasionally, however, the rustle of a skirt hushes when they wake, and the knuckles brushing a cheek in sleep seem to belong to the sleeper. Sometimes the photograph of a close friend or relative—looked at too long—shifts, and something more familiar than the dear face itself moves there. They can touch it if they like, but don't, because they know things will never be the same if they do.

This is not a story to pass on.

Down by the stream in back of 124 her footprints come and go, come and go. They are so familiar. Should a child, an adult place his feet in them, they will fit. Take them out and they disappear again as though nobody ever walked there.

By and by all trace is gone, and what is forgotten is not only the footprints but the water too and what it is down there. The rest is weather. Not the breath of the disremembered and unaccounted for, but wind in the eaves, or spring ice thawing too quickly. Just weather. Certainly no clamor for a kiss.

Beloved."

You can find an abridged transcript and additional show notes here at Literary Hub.

You can buy Namwali Serpell's ON MORRISON at this link and anywhere books are sold.

PASSAGES: On Morrison is a Random House production, hosted by Namwali Serpell. The podcast was created and produced by Sara McCrea. Sound design and technical direction by John DeLore. Campaign strategy and development, media partnerships by Carrie Neill. Publicity and tour coordination by Peter Dyer.

Toni Morrison didn't want a monument or statue erected in her honor; she wanted a dedicated reading room in her hometown public library, a space that could allow for change and continuous engagement with her work. In this episode, Namwali Serpell visits the Toni Morrison Reading Room in the Lorain Public Library, before heading to a tour event at the CityClub Cleveland to open up a passage from Morrison's novel PARADISE alongside poet and writer Kortney Morrow.

Here is the passage that Kortney reads from Morrison's PARADISE:

"Beyond, to his left, [Deacon] could hear schoolchildren group-reciting a poem he'd learned by rote too, except he had had to hear Dunbar's lines only once to memorize them completely and forever. When he and Steward had enlisted there was a lot to learn—from how to tie an army tie to how to pack a bag. And just as they had in [their] schoolhouse, they had been first to understand everything, remember everything. But none of it was as good as what they learned at home, sitting on the floor in a firelit room, listening to war stories; to stories of great migrations—those who made it and those who did not; to the failures and triumphs of intelli- gent men—their fear, their bravery, their confusion; to tales of love deep and permanent. All there in the one book they owned then. Black leather covers with gold lettering; the pages thinner than young leaves, than petals. The spine frayed into webbing at the top, the corners fingered down to skin. The strong words, strange at first, becoming familiar, gaining weight and hypnotic beauty the more they heard them, made them their own.

As Deek drove north on Central, it and the side streets seemed to him as satisfactory as ever. Quiet white and yellow houses full of industry; and in them were elegant black women at useful tasks; orderly cupboards minus surfeit or miserliness; linen laundered and ironed to perfection; good meat seasoned and ready for roasting. It was a view he would be damned if… the idleness of the young would disturb."

You can find an abridged transcript and additional show notes here at Literary Hub.

You can buy Namwali Serpell's ON MORRISON at this link and anywhere books are sold.

PASSAGES: On Morrison is a Random House production, hosted by Namwali Serpell. The podcast was created and produced by Sara McCrea. Sound design and technical direction by John DeLore. Campaign strategy and development, media partnerships by Carrie Neill. Publicity and tour coordination by Peter Dyer.

Continuing our tour of Ohio, Namwali joins writer and educator Dionne Custer Edwards to discuss ON MORRISON at the Bexley Public Library. They read and open up a passage of Morrison's SULA, a brimming scene of friendship and play between the two central characters, Sula and Nel. Dionne and Namwali explore the innocence of the girls' mirrored play with twigs and grass, but also the undertones of maturation, as Nel and Sula hover on the threshold between the girls they have been and the women they are actively becoming.

Here is the passage Dionne reads from Toni Morrison's SULA:

"Sula lifted her head and joined Nel in the grass play. In concert, without ever meeting each other's eyes, they stroked the blades up and down, up and down. Nel found a thick twig and, with her thumbnail, pulled away its bark until it was stripped to a smooth, creamy innocence. Sula looked about and found one too. When both twigs were undressed Nel moved easily to the next stage and began tearing up rooted grass to make a bare spot of earth. When a generous clearing was made, Sula traced intricate patterns in it with her twig. At first Nel was content to do the same. But soon she grew impatient and poked her twig rhythmically and intensely into the earth, making a small neat hole that grew deeper and wider with the least manipulation of her twig. Sula copied her, and soon each had a hole the size of a cup. Nel began a more strenuous digging and, rising to her knee, was careful to scoop out the dirt as she made her hole deeper. Together they worked until the two holes were one and the same. When the depression was the size of a small dishpan, Nel's twig broke. With a gesture of disgust she threw the pieces into the hole they had made. Sula threw hers in too. Nel saw a bottle cap and tossed it in as well. Each then looked around for more debris to throw into the hole: paper, bits of glass, butts of cigarettes, until all of the small defiling things they could find were collected there. Carefully they replaced the soil and covered the entire grave with uprooted grass.

Neither one had spoken a word."

You can find an abridged transcript and additional show notes here at Literary Hub.

Join us for a live taping of PASSAGES: On Morrison on June 4th at Liz's Book Bar in Brooklyn, NY.

You can buy Namwali Serpell's ON MORRISON at this link and anywhere books are sold.

PASSAGES: On Morrison is a Random House production, hosted by Namwali Serpell. The podcast was created and produced by Sara McCrea. Sound design and technical direction by John DeLore. Campaign strategy and development, media partnerships by Carrie Neill. Publicity and tour coordination by Peter Dyer.