Editor Carolina De Robertis has compiled a collection of letters and essays from some of today's best writers, resulting in a book with an astonishing breadth of keen perspectives on the 2016 election. Divided into parts according to temporality - "Roots" which considers the past, "Branches" the present, and "Seeds" the future - "Radical Hope" reminds us of the sweeping arc of history, and that the pendulum of morality, though it has swung us backwards, can be pushed forward if we lean on each other and fight for progressive change. I found "Roots," with its reminders of the struggles for freedom which shaped our nation, and "Seeds," with its promise for hope found even in the words of children, to be the most hopeful. While letters contained in "Branches" made salient points about our current, sometimes nightmarish political situation, I found the former and the latter to be sources of particularly memorable inspiration. Overall, though, I deeply appreciated the book's intersectionality, and rallying cry to "stay open," as Celeste Ng puts so well in her essay, and to keep pushing for a better world.

This a true gem of a book. The writing is beautiful (though at times difficult and sad). I highly recommend this book to anyone who feels hopeless and frustrated with our current president and his administration. The collection is full of powerful stories of love and hope - especially during this time of uncertainty.

I didn't know how much I needed this book until I read it and now I can't be too far away from this one. It delivers on it's promise. It's dark but it is also full of hope.

This is a difficult book to review; there is so much to say about each and every incredible contribution. It’s a sprawling ambitious project that one senses has helped the writers come to terms with the election results, as much as it is designed to console and instigate hope, courage and the desire to continue the battle in its readers. Written between the time between the 2017 USA Presidential election and the actual inauguration of President Trump the book whirls around thirty-one letters written to people of the contributor’s choice about the situation. Some letters explain why we may have got to this place in time, others go into detail about past times/ battles, others imagine a future beyond all this. Some of the letters do all three.

Carolina De Robertis writes a beautiful introduction (and invokes her Argentinian/Uruguayan grandmother who never lived to see the dictatorships in her countries lifted) whereby she explains the idea behind the letters that she has bought together and edited. She has divided the letters into three sections: roots (past), branches (present), seeds (future). There is no more apt metaphor for hope than a tree, still standing strong and sending out its seeds into the future.

The letters are fresh responses that dip into the past to look for meaning. When you read these letters it is easy to imagine the writers sitting at their desks as they find a way through the shock, anger and fear (the US President election hangover) on the page. Their focus on a particular reader/s means these writers have had to delve down and take on the role, not only of writer but of friend, stranger, ancestor, parent, godparent, great great great great great great grandparent even! This adds responsibility and a need for clarity.

This is a multivocal book although the message of love, anger and a burning desire for change and dignity is unanimous. The contributors come from different walks of life and different countries (Syria, Lebanon, Mexico, Cuba, Nigeria, China, Japan, Eypt, India, Puerto Rico, Iran, Guatemala, Indigenous North America, Russia, Uruguay, various parts of Europe and Africa), the only thing that binds them is a particular claim on language – the opposite of silence - and that the United States is their home.

Although all these letters pulsate with life, intelligence and angles on the situation that are absolutely fascinating and intriguing, I have my favourite letters, ones I have re-read a number of times which have left me buzzing.

Katie Kitamura’s letter to her child Mila is by far the one I identify most with, it is a very raw letter, we understand how she has had to really delve deep to dig out hope (and meaning), that as mother and writer she is feeling the fragmentation of our times. She talks about how the election paralysed her essence, how she can’t find her words just when her child is beginning the process of acquiring language. Her promise as mother is to ensure language is not impoverished for her child; she writes about her need to find the language that will help her find meaning in this world, which in turn will lend itself to action. I find this letter incredibly moving. I also thoroughly enjoyed Jeff Chang’s letter and his discourse on the impossibility to overestimate the power of fear and the lyrics peppering his text. I found Mona Eltahawy’s letter to Sally (a sixteen year old she had a chance meeting with in Cairo – another American – Egyptian citizen) illuminating. She quotes Zora Neal Hurston “ If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.”

This is a book about not being silent, about standing strong and courageous and about solidarity and community.

RADICAL HOPE from Knopf Doubleday and edited by Carolina De Robertis is a truly unique text that aims to address collective concerns about the policies and changes in the United States. As the subtitle notes, it contains "letters of love and dissent in dangerous times." These letters were created post November 8, 2016 and many of the authors (like Lisa See, Junot Diaz, or Celeste Ng) will be readily recognized by our students. Editor De Robertis has skillfully organized the contributions from award-winning novelists, poets, political thinkers, and activists into three sections: Roots, Branches and Seeds. Although many are angry and some use offensive language, the letters in RADICAL HOPE are clearly heartfelt and full of emotion whether addressed to Harriet Tubman, present day protestors or children in the future.

These letters are written in the months directly after Trump's election. Some are to historical figures, some are to future beings (grandchildren who are babies, etc.) They help each writer specify their beliefs in the context of the person they are addressing.

Something about the letter format with this directive, however, comes across to me as overly didactic. I may just be weary of protests while the political climate grows increasingly harmful. I also doubt anyone outside of the radical left would ever feel compelled to read a book marketed in this way, and in that sense they are preachy in two ways - preachy in tone and preaching to the choir.

I can't really fault them for the impulse. But solidifying our own beliefs and urging people we already have in our circles to do the same is easy. Preaching is easy, young man, changing is harder.

For the intended audience, these letters will likely be a balm and a boost. And for the literary crowds, seeing names like Viet Thanh Nguyen, Celeste Ng, Hari Kunzru, Karen Joy Fowler, Junot Diaz, etc., is a likely draw.

This anthology was even better than imagined, but with such eloquent writers included, it makes sense. For anyone invested in social justice, this is required reading in the age of Trump.

I was attracted to Radical Hope: Letters of Love and Dissent in Dangerous Times because of the outstanding contributors, including Junot Díaz, Lisa See, Viet Thanh Nguyen, Jane Smiley, and Celeste Ng. A firm believer that writers are the key to maintaining society's highest aspirations, I hoped to find inspiration and affirmation in these pages.

The letters are written to leaders of the past, to real and and to imagined future children, to strangers and to the known. Each contributor speaks of their personal journey and agony. They share a fear of our government's agenda that threatens hard-won rights and protections.

The letters are divided into three sections: Roots, which "explores the histories that bring us to this moment," and Branches, considering present day people and communities, and Seeds, considering the future who will inherit the system and world we will leave behind.

Frankly, many of these letters were hard to read, confronting us with the pain and misery inflicted upon people because of their color, sexual orientation, or ethnicity. I could only read an essay or two a day. Yet there is also in these letters a strength, a commitment, a vision of hope.

The message, says Katie Kitamura, is that this is not a time for complacency, and yet we must be open and not mired in certitude, to think and not be compelled to "ideological haste."

"Beware easy answers," warns Boris Fishman, "Lets get out of our comfort zones...let's lose our certainty--perhaps our arrogance."

"Be kind, be curious, be helpful...stay open," Celeste Ng writes to her child.
"Please promise me that you will, insoar as any person can, set your fear aside and devote yourself to a full, honest life. That, my child, is the first and most important act of resistance any of us can undertake," advises Meredith Russo to her child.

The struggle for human rights is ongoing, continual. We have seen the backlash against hard gained protections and equality. The battle continues.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.