'Good Dirt' explores intergenerational trauma and family legacies

Charmaine Wilkerson's novel Good Dirt delves into history, loss, and resilience across generations.

Illustration by Febrina Tiara

By Hayu Andini and Novanka Laras

Good Dirt: A Novel, by Charmaine Wilkerson

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Charmaine Wilkerson, the author of the 2022 best-selling debut Black Cake, returns with another gripping family epic in her latest novel, Good Dirt. The book delves deep into the complexities of intergenerational trauma and the lasting impact it has on family legacies. At its center is Ebony “Ebby” Freeman, a 29-year-old woman from one of the few Black families in an affluent New England community. Her life, already shadowed by tragedy, takes a dramatic turn when her engagement to Henry Pepper, a rising star in a prestigious banking family, ends in a highly public and devastating breakup.

The narrative begins by unraveling the central tragedy that has shaped Ebby’s life. At just ten years old, she discovered her older brother Baz’s lifeless body in her father’s study. Baz had been shot by intruders, a crime that left behind more questions than answers. Beside him lay a shattered family heirloom, a 20-gallon stoneware jar known as "Old Mo," crafted in the mid-1800s by Moses, an enslaved potter. The tragedy not only drew intense media attention but also imprinted the Freeman family with a legacy of grief that lingered for decades.

Two decades later, the spotlight returns to Ebby. Following her public breakup, she flees to the French countryside, desperate to escape the renewed scrutiny of her private life. In her isolation, Ebby turns to her family’s history, piecing together the stories tied to Old Mo that her parents and grandparents once shared.

Wilkerson uses a multi-generational narrative to paint a vivid picture of Ebby’s ancestors. The story weaves between perspectives, including those of Moses, the potter who created Old Mo, and Edward "Willis" Freeman, who used the jar during his escape to freedom. Old Mo becomes more than a family heirloom; it serves as a symbol of resilience, carrying secret messages and inspiring hope for generations of Freemans.

The origins of Old Mo are rooted in the harsh realities of slavery. Moses carved the initials “MO” into the jar, ostensibly referring to his enslaver, Martin Oldham, who allowed his enslaved workers to learn to read and write—a rare and dangerous act during that time. However, the Freemans believe the initials were a subtle nod to Moses himself, a defiant assertion of his identity.

Edward “Willis” Freeman carried Old Mo during his perilous escape from slavery, using it to preserve messages within a network of free and enslaved people. Over the years, the jar became a symbol of hope and a reminder that strength and unity could emerge from hardship. For the Freemans, Old Mo embodies the idea that “good could come of bad,” offering guidance as they navigate the challenges of life.

Wilkerson’s narrative also highlights the craftsmanship of enslaved individuals, an often-overlooked aspect of slavery. While many accounts of enslaved life focus on agricultural labor, Good Dirt sheds light on the skilled artisans who played a significant role in industries like pottery. The novel pays homage to their talent, resilience, and contributions to history.

The Freemans and Blisses, Ebby’s extended family, are distinct from typical portrayals of African American lineages. They trace their roots to landownership in Massachusetts dating back to the 1600s. The families include generations of farmers, craftsmen, educators, and professionals who thrived despite systemic barriers. Unlike characters in Stephen L. Carter’s The Emperor of Ocean Park or the elites in Lawrence Otis Graham’s Our Kind of People, these families derive pride from their perseverance rather than proximity to whiteness or wealth.

The novel also delves into contemporary issues. Ebby struggles with public perception and the weight of expectations as a Black woman in a predominantly white community. Her mother, Isabella “Sojourner” Bliss Freeman, embodies strength and resilience, maintaining dignity in the face of societal scrutiny. Through these characters, Wilkerson explores the tension between public image and personal identity, as well as the enduring challenges of systemic racism.

As the story unfolds, Ebby works to uncover the truth about Baz’s death, piecing together clues from her family’s history. The mystery of his murder is intricately tied to the legacy of Old Mo, creating a narrative that is both suspenseful and emotionally resonant.

Wilkerson’s meticulous research and compelling storytelling bring Good Dirt to life. The novel moves seamlessly between generations, offering a nuanced exploration of love, loss, and the enduring power of family. Through the lens of the Freeman family, Good Dirt challenges readers to reconsider simplistic narratives about race, resilience, and history.

In the end, Good Dirt is more than a family saga—it is a testament to the strength of the human spirit. Wilkerson’s ability to weave historical context with deeply personal stories makes this novel a powerful exploration of the ways in which the past shapes the present. For readers seeking a richly layered and thought-provoking tale, Good Dirt delivers a poignant and unforgettable journey through the complexities of identity and legacy.

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