Interwoven throughout the book are the family histories of three families:


The Gibsons, who were some of the first free people of color in 17th-Century Virginia, soon tired of the increasingly oppressive laws being made against free blacks. Although their arrival in South Carolina alarmed settlers who thought they were coming to head a slave revolt, the family settled peacefully in the South. There they were known as neither black nor white, but simply as planters. According to Sharfstein's research, the earliest members of the family were "reputedly ornery, never content with their station, [and]continually challenging attempts to classify them" (23). A generation or two later, Gibsons were graduating from the nation's best colleges, owning large tracts of land, buying slaves, and involving themselves in the political issues of the times.

The Spencers lived in the Appalachian Mountains, a place so remote that neighbors cared more about each others' dependability than about their ethnicity. Although Jordan Spencer's skin was visibly dark, his community accepted him as white. Since he married a white woman, his children, grand children and great-grand children had lighter skin tones, some pale enough to "pass" as Caucasian. While some members of the family left Appalachia, most stayed, finding work as salt miners. It was really only in the early 1900s, after a white man was shot, that the Spencers' ethnicity was called into question. Even then, residents of the family's community realized that the lawsuit brought against the family was more about revenge than anything else. For the most part, the Spencers stayed in Appalachia, straddling the color line for generations.


Using this trio of families, Sharfstein makes many interesting points about the history of race in The United States. Most fascinating for me was the difficulty different states had in identifying what made a person "black" or "colored." Did a person need to be 1/8 black, 1/4 black or simply look black, in order to be subject to the stiffer laws? If a person hailed from a mixed ancestry, was he black, white or something in between? To what laws was he subject? This confusion led to a plethora of court cases, including one against blonde-haired, blue-eyed Isabel Wall, who, in 1909, was expelled from an all-white school because she was "colored." Strangely, the Appalachian Mountain people seemed to have the most forward-thinking attitude; for them, "The difference between black and white was less about 'blood' or biology or even genealogy than about how people were treated and whether they were allowed to participate fully in community life" (84).

Because of Sharfstein's background in law, he delves deeply into both historical lawsuits and politics to prove his points, so much so that I got a bit bored with it all. Overall, though, The Invisible Line, is a fascinating book that explores a slew of issues related to the black/white experience. Each of the families the author highlights is fascinating in its own right and offers a unique perspective on the subject. The premise (Is there really such thing as black or white?) is eye-opening, groundbreaking and definitely thought-provoking. In fact, I'm still mulling it all over. Suffice it to say, I'm glad I read The Invisible Line, even if I did yawn through a few parts.

(Readalikes: Hm, I can't really think of anything. Can you?)

I'm a little late to the party this week, but then again, I've never been big into parties :) Except this one. Because it's actually fun. If you haven't joined in the Book Blogger Hop before, do it. It's a great way to find new blogs. Your Google Reader won't thank you, but you'll have a good time checking out all the great book blogs out there. If you're here because of the Hop, welcome! Enjoy your stay and have a fabulous weekend. Looks like it's going to be a rainy one for us, which is just fine with this reluctant desert dweller.

This week's question is: Do you ever wish you had named your blog something different?

In Heidi Ayarbe's YA novel Compromised, a teenage girl travels from Reno, Nevada to Boise, Idaho, in search of her aunt. She spends part of that time living on the streets of the city, sleeping in alleys, shelters, etc. Interestingly, given Idaho's large LDS population, Mormons are only mentioned once. Near the end of the story, Maya Sorenson tells her friend:

"'I've been to a synagogue, Luthern, and Methodist churches, even a Mormon temple. But they wouldn't let me in the temple, so I sat outside and looked at it,' I said" (427).

Since there are 134 LDS temples in the world (with 23 more on their way), you've most likely seen one before. Temples are beautiful buildings with unique architecture and lush, beautiful grounds. The insides are clean and serene, as befitting a house of the Lord. The walls are decorated with religious paintings, depicting scenes from the scriptures. Everything about temples - from the plants outside to the art inside - is designed to make it a peaceful, calming place to be. Even if you just spot a temple's spires from the freeway, you can tell that it's a special place.

Because Mormons believe the temples to be sacred buildings, only members of the church are allowed to enter. Even then, they must hold a "temple recommend," which signifies that they're worthy (meaning they abide by the laws of the church and are honest, morally clean, etc.). Those who meet the requirements are able to go to the temple whenever they please. Inside, members can be married for time and all eternity. They can also worship the Lord, make covenants with Him, learn more about the Gospel, and serve each other. Going to the temple is a spiritual experience, cleansing, peaceful and inspiring.

If you want to know more about the purpose of temples or just want to see more pictures like the one above (which is the Boise Temple), check out LDS Temples.org.