Sapphire’s “Push”

From The New Yorker's archive: an excerpt from the writer's novel of the same name, which was later adapted into an Oscar-winning film.  ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌   View in browser | Update your preferences     Fiction "Push" "My name is Claireece Precious Jones. I don't know why I'm telling you that. Guess 'cause I don't know how far I'm gonna go with this story, or whether it's even a story or why I'm talkin'." By Sapphire The poet and writer Sapphire is known for narratives that illuminate the lives of marginalized figures. The author of two novels and three collections of poetry, she writes lucidly, and briskly, about knotty subjects that tend to evoke strong emotions. In 1996, she published a short story in The New Yorker called "Push," an excerpt from her novel of the same name, which was later adapted into the Oscar-winning film "Precious," directed by Lee Daniels. Sapphire's tale traces a few days in the life of a pregnant teen-ager in Harlem as she attends school and endures conflicts with adults both caring and careless. The story is raw, unadorned, and told in the first person, except when its narrator addresses the reader directly. "You can do anything when you talking or writing, it's not like living when you can only do what you doing," Sapphire writes in the voice of her protagonist, Claireece Precious Jones. "Some people tell a story 'n it don't make no sense or be true. But I'm gonna try to make sense and tell the truth, else what's the fucking use?" "Push" is difficult to read, and not at all what some might imagine as the typical New Yorker short story from the nineties (if there even were such a thing). Sapphire's tale deals with incest, abuse, and the complex facets of a childhood lived in poverty. The author doesn't shy away from the uncomfortable nature of her subject; she embraces it, imbuing her work with a striking intimacy. She lets us linger in the emotional maelstrom of her narrative, allows the dust to settle, then whips it back up again. With her depiction of Precious and her abusive mother, Mary, Sapphire accomplishes something very few writers ever do—crafting characters that are hard to look at and equally hard to turn away from.   —Erin Overbey, archive editor More from the Archive     The Current Cinema Making Peace From 2009: "The Men Who Stare at Goats" and "Precious." By Anthony Lane     A Reporter at Large Swamp Nurse From 2006: What's the best hope for the first child of a poor mother? By Katherine Boo You're receiving this e-mail because you signed up for the New Yorker Classics newsletter. Was this e-mail forwarded to you? Sign up.   Unsubscribe | Manage your e-mail preferences | Send newsletter feedback | View our privacy policy    The New Yorker may earn a portion of sales from products and services that are purchased through links in our newsletters as part of our affiliate partnerships with retailers.    Copyright © Condé Nast 2022. One World Trade Center, New York, NY 10007. All rights reserved.