If there’s one book that everyone should read, it’s Ann Petry’s The Street. Set in 1940s Harlem, it was the first novel written by a black woman to sell more than a million copies, but the message is one many of us can relate to even today. Petry’s gritty portrayal of Lutie Johnson’s life perfectly lays out the farce of the American dream and the systemic disadvantages that Black women in particular face. Trying to raise her son alone and make a good career for herself, Lutie battles to be taken seriously and is faced with opposition at every turn. We get a look into the stories of several other residents of Harlem, as well as the street as a hostile environment, giving insight into how poverty, misogynoir and violence all blend into the chaos we see unfold. I won’t spoil any major plot details, but I’ll use this article to present the main issues and try to convince you to pick the book up yourself.
Lutie and her son Bub are our main characters, and we start the novel with their move to Harlem having just left an unstable home situation. Bub’s future is Lutie’s main concern, so much so that she takes an apartment purely based on how suitable it will be for his needs. And at first, Harlem is a safe haven for Lutie – she’s ‘never felt truly human’ until she is free from perception as a temptation to white men and a threat to white women. But this new environment is not free of struggle. Her job barely covers her expenses, and while she’s at work Bub is left unsupervised. At eight years old, he doesn’t understand the complexities of Lutie’s life or why she has such high standards for his behaviour. But can she create the life she envisions for him, with hardly any money and predatory men looking to exploit her?
While Lutie and Bub are the focus, we do get key parts of the story narrated from other characters’ perspectives. In particular, we see into the lives of Jones, the landlord who fixates on Lutie as soon as she moves in, and fellow resident (and brothel owner) Mrs Hedges. There is an element of sympathy that comes with their respective tragedies – ‘deadly loneliness’ and ‘sick loathing included – but being able to see exactly how their dysfunction contributes to their external behaviour only adds to the story’s tension.
Even the street itself is positioned as an adversary trying to hold its residents back, contributing to a sinister, claustrophobic atmosphere. Lutie has to fight with everything she has to avoid being absorbed into the hopelessness of the other characters, who are presented as a cautionary tale – the result of staying in the street’s grip for too long. But as time goes by, and the system begins to wear her down, she finds herself brushing closer with the seedier bars and clubs in hopes of a financial windfall. Maybe she can use these men to her advantage, as a springboard to get herself out of this depressing hellhole. Or maybe she’s more trapped than
The Street stuck with me long after I had finished reading it. It’s extremely depressing in a lot of ways, but also very important and brings to light a lot of issues that sadly have not gone away since its publication. Hopefully you’ll be inspired to read the book yourself and understand fully the compelling characters and the narrative that masterfully unfolds. Petry has brought so much complexity together into one novel, one that deserves to be remembered.
