The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store: A Novel (Random House Large Print)

James McBride is an accomplished saxophonist/jazz musician. I knew that going into the book. (Oh, digression--did you know that he also played with the band, The Remainders? That’s a band with other writers like Amy Tan, Dave Barry, Barbara Kingsolver, Stephen King, Maya Angelou and several others who played for charity and fundraising). Anyway, I mention his musicianship because I see it all over the pages of The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store.

This is the first book I’ve read by McBride (definitely more to come), so pardon my schoolgirlish, giggly first crush for the way that his writing lifts me up, how his words and characters opened my heart, only to break it, and then put it back together in a most absolute and tender way. James McBride is a kind, gentle soul, and his writing reflects this—his ability to bring the world together in a novel. He honors humanity. We are all connected, and this author compels that naturally from his characters. Now, how great is that, yeah?

I want to put this in your hands and promise you a magnificent reading experience. It starts off in a shaggy dog kind of way, with an ensemble of characters, several who possess whimsical names like Fatty, Big Soap, Monkey Pants, Dodo. And their names fit flawlessly to their nature. The story starts with a 1972 prologue—a human skeleton is found in an old abandoned well, and then the body of the story begins in 1936 in Pottstown, Pennsylvania, a place called Chicken Hill, where Jews, immigrants, and Black folks lived side by side, sometimes in harmony, other times in discord, but here’s the thing—the goodness of people, the kindness of their hearts—that is what ultimately rises to the top.

For the story to unfold, there has to be some sinister aspects, too—aren’t we still fighting the fight of ignorance, bigotry, corruption, meanness? But, in the McBride world, well, we also follow the long stretch of yarn as it wends around this way and that, through streets and backyards, dirt roads, onto hills and a shul and a church, through tunnels and a dance hall. And The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store.

I don’t need to rehash the plot, but there are a few fun facts about this book worth mentioning in a review. Such as, there are an abundance of characters introduced early on, and then again later on, before the plot actually launches. That’s the shaggy part. We don’t get to the plot too quickly—instead, Mcbride takes his time, builds the characters. They are already leaping off the pages by the time the plot rolls in.

There are subplots, too, but in the end, they all weave their chords and come together. McBride may slow your roll at first, but it’s a winning bonanza of breadth and depth, from the smallest detail to the broadest design. Scenes that seem initially inconsequential become key notes later on.

Early on, we meet the arresting Jewess, Chona. Chona is an unforgettable female protagonist—I’m keeping her in my journal of best. female. characters. ever. She is handicapped with a limp—but her limp doesn’t stop her strength of purpose, her fierce dignity, her bounteous benevolence, her gentle grace, and her consummate integrity. You will fall in love with her, just like Moshe, the theater and dance hall owner, did. Moshe and Chona dared to welcome change and inclusivity to their part of the world.

At this time, in the 1930s, Black people were almost exclusively cast in menial jobs. But Moshe books Black jazz bands to play at his theater, and successfully includes all tribes together at the dance hall, who “frolicked and laughed, dancing as if they were birds enjoying flight for the first time.” Chona runs the grocery store, and extends credit to anyone who can’t afford to pay; she rarely keeps a record of their debt. The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store may lose money, but it is rich in goodwill and kindness.

Back to this being like a musical book—a jazzy book. Jazz music conjures that raspy, soulful, edgy flavor, blended from a mix of cultures and harmonies. McBride embraces those diverse, insistent, zingy, soul-stirring rhythms and blues into the narrative threads of his novel. I can hear the swing and the chase, the boogie and the blues, the sounds that go everywhere at once and jelly roll the story within a complex set of fusion and feelings. It’s also just a damned good story!

The narrative pulls you here and there, up and down, and when you meet Dodo, the sweet and barely teenaged deaf kid, your protective instincts will wrap yourself around him and never want to let him go. And, when Dodo meets Monkey Pants—well, this right there—the heart of the novel that will break you in pieces.

At times, I had a wellspring of tears—not just for joy or anguish. Sure, comedy and tragedy fill these pages. But McBride’s natural humanity and gentle nature is the colossal, phenomenal heart of the book. The author steps aside, he doesn’t ever intrude. The core of the narrative are the characters. Their cacophony becomes a coda for living large.

This tale made me want to be better, to do better, to open my eyes to all the missed connections, to fix the broken chords and forge new ones, and seek eternally to strengthen them. We are humanity, we are the essential substance to add love to the world, one modest good deed at a time. That is The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store.

It took me a while to get interested in this book. There were so many characters introduced, and I didn’t think the writing style lent itself to remembering them and keeping them straight. However, as I persevered with reading, the story caught my interest and the character development made it so that I could differentiate one character from another. Love, acceptance and understanding the positive differences among us were the themes of this book for me.

It is depressing that we as Americans are still experiencing the same issues today. We are at a crossroads in our American culture. Racism, antisemitism, fear of immigrants and anyone different is again rearing its ugly head in very loud and violent ways. In my opinion these insecure haters are in the minority, but they are very loud and visible. America will never be rid of these an abominations until they are acknowledged as evil and wrong. The lovers of acceptance, diversity, and justice need to have their voices be heard.

This is a great easy read, one that you won't want to put down, moved along smoothly and well written. It is a historical fiction and recommended by many people and a past President. I like reading things out of the ordinary. The author, James McBride, is a great story teller. This book gives me a view of what life was like for immigrants and life in a different time. There is humor and parts that will make you cry and parts that will make you angry, but it's a great story. It shows that we can all get along to accomplish something when we work together for good. This arrived new and packaged very nicely and in good time. Highly recommend to everyone.

Soooo many characters. Sooooo many cultures. I almost gave up on reading this book. It’s summer for me and I thought, this is too much and I kept going back to reread chapters to have clarity. But…if you can just hold on and persevere, there is a blessing at the end! The epilogue had me in tears 😭…like seriously! It took me 5 days to get to 50% of the book and 2 days to read the rest 🤷🏽‍♀️. I didn’t expect to cry tears of joy at the end. I didn’t expect to be blessed by this book. Thank you Monkey Pants…IYKYK. ❤️❤️❤️

In the neighborhood of Chicken Hill, Pottstown, Pennsylvania, in June 1972, police found a skeleton, wearing a gold chain with a mezuzah, at the bottom of a well, next to a lot that had been torn down a day earlier to make way for a new neighborhood. They visited the home of the only Jew left on Chicken Hill, on account of the mezuzah; his home stood on the site that almost half a century earlier had been the local synagogue. Because of this, he was deemed a suspect, though he would never face charges. He skipped town almost immediately, and days later the neighborhood was reduced to rubble by a devastating hurricane.

Forty-seven years earlier, in 1925, young theater-manager Moshe Ludlow bet the little money he had saved on hiring a famous musical act to play at his small venue. Jews from all over the Northeast came to dance and frolic. Moshe recovered his investment many times over. He married Chona Yakov, the brilliant daughter of the local rabbi, and settled in Chicken Hill, which was then a vibrant community home to Blacks and Jews. As years went by, most affluent Jews moved downtown. Chona refused to move out. Moshe and Chona owned a two-story building that housed the neighborhood’s only store on the first floor, The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store, and their home on the second floor. The store was a losing business on account of Chona’s kindness, but it was a regular hangout spot and neighbors loved it.

Over the next twelve years, Chicken Hill, and the world at large, undergo seismic changes—the local KKK chapter gains popularity, Nazism rises in Europe, and America’s immigrants begin to question their new way of life. Among all these social changes, Chicken Hill’s inhabitants undergo personal upheavals as well, but their sense of community remains strong despite the adversities that come their way.

The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store is a novel in three parts and an epilogue, told by an omniscient narrator, about the ups and downs of a community between the years 1925-1936, in an ever-changing world. It touches on several themes, such as racial politics, inequality, sexual violence, disability, sense of community and belonging, friendship, and karmic justice.

The first thing that struck me as I settled into the story was McBride’s assured, propulsive, scathing writing. Despite being an ensemble kind of story, each individual character shines thoroughly, so the reader gets to know each character’s motivations, inner life, idiosyncrasies. I haven’t been that crazy about an ensemble cast of characters as I was with these. The curmudgeons in the story are some of the most sympathetic people in it.

The Heaven… is by no means a happy novel; there are weighty issues and sadness overload, but they are treated so compassionately and so beautifully that the reader will root for these underdogs.