I’d had the novel If Beale Street Could Talk (by James Baldwin) on my bookshelf for a while; it was one of the many books I rescued from my parents’ storeroom before they gave them all to Goodwill. When I finally read it, I found it was not what I’d expected from the cover. “A masterpiece about the love between a man and a woman…” it said on the cover: not my idea of a great read, if you want to know the truth. It made it seem like a high-class romance novel. It is decidedly not. It is about love between a man and a woman, but it is also about race and family bonds in lower-class New York City. It wasn’t something I really liked, per se, but it was a well-written book. While I can’t speak for the book’s authenticity, it really seemed like Baldwin had captured the setting rather well, and the dialogue was top-notch. A good book, but not something I’d necessarily want to read again.