Book review of Passing

by Nella Larsen (Author)

Updated at: 24/01/2025

Nella Larsen's Passing, a cornerstone of the Harlem Renaissance, masterfully explores the complexities of racial identity in 1920s America. Published in 1929, this timeless novel centers on the precarious act of "passing"—light-skinned African Americans presenting as white to navigate a rigidly segregated society. Larsen delves into the psychological toll and moral ambiguities faced by those who choose this path, illuminating the tensions between personal freedom and societal constraints. Through its nuanced characters and sharp prose, Passing examines themes of identity, belonging, and colorism with enduring relevance. This insightful work remains a powerful exploration of the human condition and the ever-shifting boundaries of race and self.

4.3 / 6,686 ratings

Review Passing

Oh, Passing by Nella Larsen. What a book! I went into it completely blind, picking it up for a reading challenge, and I’m so incredibly glad I did. It’s a short novel – more of a novella, really – clocking in around 95 pages, but don't let that fool you. This slim volume packs an emotional punch that resonates long after you turn the final page.

Written in 1929, during the Harlem Renaissance, the novel's relevance is astonishing. It tackles themes of racial identity, colorism, and the agonizing complexities of "passing" – the act of a light-skinned Black person presenting as white – with such grace and precision. Larsen doesn’t shy away from the moral ambiguities inherent in this choice, exposing the internal conflicts and societal pressures that drive characters to make such difficult decisions.

The narrative centers on Irene Redfield, a Black woman married to a prominent Harlem doctor, and her complicated relationship with Clare Kendry, a childhood friend who has chosen to live as a white woman. Their reunion is a powder keg of simmering tension, fraught with envy, resentment, and a profound sense of unease. Irene’s internal conflict – her pride in her heritage battling with her fear and fascination with Clare's seemingly carefree life – is masterfully portrayed. Larsen doesn’t offer easy answers; instead, she presents a nuanced exploration of identity, showcasing the limitations and the freedoms afforded by each choice.

What truly struck me, however, was Larsen’s writing style. While the language reflects the formality of the era, it’s far from inaccessible. The sentences are concise, yet evocative; the descriptions are vivid and sharply drawn. Each word seems carefully chosen, contributing to the novel's overall atmosphere of suspense and unease. There's a certain elegance to the prose that adds another layer of depth to the already complex narrative. Some modern readers might find the sentence structure a little different, a little more formal than what they're used to – and I, for one, found that to be one of its charms. It added a sense of time and place that enhanced the reading experience.

While Clare, the woman "passing," isn't necessarily likeable – she’s self-absorbed and deeply flawed – she’s undeniably compelling. She’s the kind of character you're both drawn to and repelled by, a fascinating study in self-deception and the pursuit of privilege. Irene, on the other hand, is more relatable, her struggles and insecurities making her a sympathetic figure despite her own flaws and internal contradictions. The dynamic between the two women is electric, driving the narrative forward with a sense of impending doom.

The ending is… perfect. It’s ambiguous, leaving much to the reader’s interpretation, and it’s precisely that ambiguity that makes Passing so unforgettable. It’s a book that stays with you, prompting reflection long after you've finished the last page. It’s a powerful, poignant exploration of identity, choice, and the enduring consequences of societal constraints, all wrapped up in a beautifully written, emotionally charged novella. A must-read, without a doubt.