Book Review: Uptown, by Virginia DeBerry and Donna Grant

Uptown, by Virginia DeBerry and Donna Grant, is a fascinating book for two reasons, the first, of course, being the story itself. It’s about a wealthy but somewhat dysfunctional family operating primarily in the real estate business in New York City. As Avery Lyons comes home to deal with family issues for the first time in twenty years, she and her cousin, Dwight Dixon, to whom she was formerly close, are forced to confront the unpleasant incident that had long ago thrust them apart and produced a whole lifetime of unfortunate choices.

This confrontation is both triggered by and deeply affects a huge real estate deal Dwight has put together, one that will make his name and fortune once and for all. And which might also, incidentally, help him be more independent of his dominating father, “King” Dixon. You can detect some of the family layers already, can’t you?

The ways both Avery and Dwight have responded to the Shattering Incident and to their lives since then have a lot to do with their fathers, in fact. Avery’s father, who has been dead for several years, was rigid and orderly almost to the point of obsession, so it’s hardly surprising that she has so rigidly compartmentalized her life and her emotions. Dwight, on the other hand, has grown up in the shadow of his dynamic, pull-yourself-up-by-your-own-bootstraps father. This has left Dwight feeling inadequate, yet also instilled a drive to outdo his father, no matter what it takes or what corners he has to cut.

This is very much a generational story, with at least three characters struggling in the shadows cast by their fathers.

But it’s also a story about what really constitutes “development” in any neighbourhood, not to mention a poor Harlem neighbourhood containing prime real estate on the edge of Central Park. And here’s where the second reason enters the picture, for why Uptown is so fascinating.

The novel is about a black family, trying to develop property in a predominantly black neighbourhood, to retain their standing with other powerful New York developers. Yet its primary thrust is the story and the family relationships, and how the actions of people with power can affect the lives of ordinary people, for good or ill. The fact that the characters are black is not the most important thing about the story, even if it plays a role in the characters’ history and self-awareness.

But as Ms. DeBerry, one of my Twitter acquaintances, remarked to me, the DeBerry and Grant novels keep being shelved in stores as “African American Fiction,” as though these stories are intended only for an African American audience and have no relevance to the general populace. Yet as you read the novels themselves you realize that nothing could be further from the truth.

The moral dilemmas and matters of conscience with which Avery and Dwight must wrestle are deeply human issues, and the very essence of human frailty and strength is evident from the beginning of the book to the end. These are characters with whom you identify, whatever your skin colour or your place of residence. And you’ll find the same big real estate deals, with the same consequences for ordinary people living ordinary lives, in any city in North America.

According to Ms. DeBerry, what she and Ms. Grant write are human stories, primarily in the form of women’s literature. And reading Uptown, you see exactly what she means. You care about Avery, you eagerly follow her personal development, and even if  you really dislike Dwight, you can understand some of his motivations and how he got where he ends up. This is a story about a real human family wrestling with the New York real estate world. It’s not a story that should be relegated to one corner of the bookstore or library.

(Uptown was published in March, 2010, by Simon and Schuster.)

Check out the authors discussing their writing relationship and the book: