It is astonishing to me that this was Morrison’s debut novel, yet not astonishing at all, because her genius has never given me reason to doubt that she would not have it honed from minute one. The way she seeks to understand, in this novel why black girls hate themselves the way they do, why they are treated the way they are, and in her findings she writes with complete certainty. No ifs or buts, this is the way it is and you must listen because it is real and because people are hurt. Beautiful writing, her classic intertwining of characters’ stories, everything that makes her work brilliant is here from her first novel. How absolutely incredible.

Along with the idea of romantic love, she was introduced to another - physical beauty. Probably the most destructive ideas in the history of human thought. Both originated in envy, thrived in insecurity, and ended in disillusion. In equating physical beauty to virtue, she stripped her mind, bound if, and collected self contempt by the heap.