Présentation de l'éditeur :
It is merely an imitation, and none too good at that. Narrow, unsparkling, uninviting, it stretches meekly off from dull Jefferson Street to the dingy, drab market which forms the north side of Oxford Street. It has no mystery, no allure, either of exclusiveness or of downright depravity; its usages are plainly significant, an unpretentious little street lined with unpretentious little houses, inhabited for the most part by unpretentious little people. The dwellings are three stories high, and contain six boxes called by courtesy, rooms a parlour ,a midget of a dining-room, a larger kitchen and, above, a front bedroom seemingly large only because it extends for the full width of the house, a mere shadow of a bathroom, and another back bedroom with windows whose possibilities are spoiled by their outlook on sad and diminutive back-yards. And above these two, still two others built in similar wise. In one of these houses dwelt a father, a mother and two daughters. Here, as often happens in a home sheltering two generations, opposite, un evenly matched emotions faced each other. In the houses of the rich the satisfied ambition of the older generation is faced by the overwhelming ambition of the younger.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)
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Revue de presse :
An engrossing novel of women's lives and experiences. . . . Jessie Redmon Fauset uses Angela's development as the springboard to explore larger issues that have become regarded as central to black women's fiction: the experience of passing, the exploitation of women as sexual objects and thus a questioning of heterosexual relationships, the assertion of racial pride, and the primacy of female bonding. --Mary Katherine Wainwright, Belles Lettres
"A fascinating glimpse of a now-vanished Harlem culture." --Rosalind Warren, New Directions for Women
"A reminder of how entertaining good writing can be." --Ernest R. Mercer, East St. Louis Monitor
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