The gut wrenching account, apparently true, of Solomon Northrup, a free black man, with wife and children living in New York State. He is kidnapped and sold as a slave, then shipped south to work on the plantations in Bayou Boeuf Louisiana. He spends most of the twelve years under the cruel tyranny of a sadistic plantation owner named Epps. His eventual escape and return to New York and his family occurs only after a series of events that aren't much short of a miracle. The narrative is painfully difficult to read and is a reminder of the tragedy that was inflicted on generations of a people that lived, suffered, and died in bondage.

"La schiavitù tende a brutalizzare i sentimenti umani più delicati. Assistere quotidianamente a forme estreme di sofferenza, ascoltare l'agonia degli schiavi, costringerli immobili sotto una frusta spietata, lasciarli squartare dai cani, farli morire senza attenzioni, seppellirli senza una bara, non può che rendere gli uomini spericolatamente animaleschi. Se il padrone è crudele, la colpa non è sua ma del sistema in cui vive, dell'influenza esercitata da ciò che lo circonda, da chi fin da bambino gli ha insegnato che gli schiavi vanno frustati e basta". Quando, anni fa, guardai il film tratto da questo romanzo, il disagio, la rabbia, l'ingiustizia, il dolore, l'incredulità che provai mi rimasero a lungo impressi sulla pelle e nella mente e nell'approcciarmi ora alla lettura di questa storia tutte queste forti sensazioni sono tornare prepotentemente a galla. Dico subito che lo shock provocatomi dalle scene della trasposizione cinematografica è stato più profondo rispetto al romanzo ma semplicemente perchè spesso le immagini hanno su di noi un impatto molto più forte rispetto alle parole, ma la vicenda raccontata è sostanzialmente la stessa, resa particolarmente tragica e dolorosa dalla consapevolezza che si tratta purtroppo di una storia vera. A raccontarcela è proprio il protagonista, Solomon Northup, un cittadino nero nato libero, trascinato con un orribile inganno nell'incubo della schiavitù, strappato a sua moglie e ai suoi figli, venduto come un oggetto all'asta al migliore offerente assieme ad altri uomini, donne, bambini brutalmente picchiati e frustati, chiusi in una piantagione alla mercè di un padrone bianco spietato e crudele. Solomon narra con incredibile chiarezza tutte le tappe della sua prigionia, gli abusi subiti, il triste destino dei suoi compagni di viaggio e ci restituisce un ritratto fosco e inquietante della vita di uno schiavo nella Louisiana nel XIX secolo. Sappiamo fin dall'inizio che la storia avrà per Solomon un lieto fine, che si arriverà dopo dodici anni di sofferenze al giorno della sua liberazione, ma io non facevo che pensare a tutti i milioni di persone che non hanno avuto la sua stessa fortuna, a chi è caduto in quelle piantagioni magari sotto i colpi di quella frusta che, come l'autore ribadisce molte volte, si trasformava troppo frequentemente in uno strumento di tortura e addirittura di morte. La narrazione è costellata di scene particolarmente crude e violente che sono raccontate in maniera nitida, con una chiarezza, con un senso di impotenza e di sofferenza che lasciano il lettore senza fiato perchè arrivano dritte al cuore, allo stomaco, alla mente. L'autore insiste particolarmente sulla necessità di farci comprendere che in questa storia non c'è nulla di inventato, che si tratta di un'autentica testimonianza dei pericoli che correva qualsiasi persona dalla pelle scura in quegli anni, per la quale non esisteva un posto realmente sicuro, non c'era alcuna possibilità di ottenere giustizia, rispetto per la propria dignità, per la propria storia, per la quale non esisteva il diritto di essere considerato un essere umano. Proprio per questo alla fine del romanzo troviamo delle pagine dedicate a tutte i documenti, le carte, le firme che sono state necessarie al suo lungo processo di liberazione. Non mancano amare riflessioni sulla discriminazione razziale, sull'insensata pratica della schiavitù, sulla crudeltà dell'uomo che però Solomon imputa al malato sistema in cui l'uomo bianco viene educato, ai principi sbagliati di una società intrisa di odio e di pregiudizi. La scrittura non è particolarmente originale, è uno stile molto lineare, semplice e diretto, che si adatta perfettamente alla finalità di questo romanzo: trasmettere un racconto terribile che possa mettere in guardia, fare da monito a tutti coloro che ancora oggi sottovalutano il potere dell'odio razziale, che possa far riflettere, far infuriare, far ricordare cosa l'uomo è stato capace di fare ai suoi simili. Sono felice di aver letto la storia di Solomon, è stato importante per me provare questi sentimenti profondi, stare lì a riflettere su passi particolarmente dolorosi e lo consiglio a chi ha voglia di scoprire ancora un ulteriore tassello di una delle pagine più vergognose della storia dell'umanità.

"There may be humane masters, as there certainly are inhuman ones--there may be slaves well-clothed, well-fed, and happy, as there surely are those half-clad, half-starved and miserable; nevertheless, the institution that tolerates such wrong and inhumanity as I have witnesses is a cruel, unjust, and barbarous one, Men may write fictions portraying lowly life as it is, or as it is not--may expatiate with owlish gravity upon the bliss of ignorance--discourse flippantly from arm chairs of the pleasures of slave life; but let them toil with him in the field--sleep with him in the cabin--feed with him on husks; let them behold him scourged, hunted, trampled on, and they will come back with another story in their mouths. Let them know the heart of the poor slave--learn his secret thoughts--thoughts he dare not utter in the hearing of white man; let them sit by him in the silent watches of the night--converse with him in trustful confidence of 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,' and they will find ninety-nine out of every hundred are intelligent enough to understand their situation, and to cherish in their bosoms the love of freedom, as passionately as themselves."These words found in the book written by Solomon Northrup about his 12 years as a slave in the 1840/1850's say so much about the history of the US and all the darkness in our past. I didn't learn anything I didn't already know about the dreadful institution of slavery but it was enlightening to read a first hand experience of the horror of a free Black man kidnapped and sold into slavery in Texas and Louisiana. He survived by wit, cunning and by being smarter than white human cockroaches (my apology to the insect) around him. My heart ached for all the thousands of souls who didn't make it out of bondage.It's hard to read because of the sordid and painful content and I had to take time away from it. The writing is good, though written in a very old style and syntax and I found the narrative fascinating. Highly recommended for those who can bear it.

I appreciated this excellent book (some of its scenes still haunt me), but compared to other non-fiction slave narratives such as Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, there was a bit more distance of perspective here. The facts are still searing; the antidotes still filled me with horror. But sometimes the narrator feels a step removed. I read much of the account before I realized why I felt that way .. and then I got to Northup's description of the Christmas celebrations among the slaves. He writes, "Marriage is frequently contracted during the holidays, if such an institution may be said to exist among them." He wasn't one of "them." He was a Northerner. Not only does he not consider himself one of them, he wonders here if their marriages are even fully real. That comment struck me immediately as odd; looking back, I remember many of them.Solomon Northup was an exceptionally intelligent man. Southern culture wasn't his, and at times he almost seems to take the tone of an anthropological study. Perhaps that's why he includes long tracts on various customs and planting methods. The planting methods are eye opening in giving a true depiction of the slaves' grueling labor, but he goes beyond this to describe the methods in great detail - the irrigation, the plowing process, the sort of mounding for each crop. In the end, I think his objective is much larger than telling his and his fellow slaves' human stories. Much as an anthropologist studying a foreign tribe, he tries to give full picture of the Southern life and culture in that area of the South.This focus and his striking intellect make for a unique experience. Yes, sometimes the human story is slowed down a bit by the seeming diversions, but the fuller picture he provides is fascinating as well as searing. If being moved by a human story's raw power is primary, I would recommend Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl first - that book is unforgettable in its immediacy; the reader is pulled directly down into the dark pit of horrors that was slavery. If instead, one wants a fuller historical and cultural study of the period, I would highly recommend this excellent book. In the end though, the distinction is a bit artificial. The world could be improved much if every American were to read both books and many other stories besides from other periods, books that describe periods of history in enough detail that they can be understood not only with the mind but also, even more importantly, with the heart!

I cannot fathom this book. Everything that happens in this autobiography is so distant from anything that I have experienced that I cannot even conceive of the injustice in any sort of measurable or reasonable amount. I feel angry and heartbroken that this sort of crime ever took place in our country, disgusted to the point of choking, so horrified that human trafficking through America is still so present and strong, so helpless because I dont even know how to help, because I want to help, because I would want to kill the person that took my freedom from me and forced me to work, in any capacity, that treated me like chattel.There were times that I felt Northrup was being too forgiving, or wasnt being hard enough, on the people he encountered in the South, but having read substantially from this time period this lack of emotion seems to be due in part to stylistic choices- effusive emotion never really comes through writings from this period. I dont know if it just wasnt distinguished to write with unbridled passion, but you dont see it in literature from this time, and so I assume that Northrup was just writing in the style of his day. There were other times where you could feel his rage and dismay, but it was all bundled up in what I am sure was the editorial process. And maybe I willfully distanced myself from some of it, because it was just so hard to force myself to confront the beatings, the whippings, and the separation and sorrow he was writing about.In fact, there are times that its dry, matter-of-fact portrayal of this tragedy (not just of Northrup, but the tragedy of slavery) was its strong point. He is a reliable narrator, it never feels that he is embellishing, and hearing about the forced desertion of a child as the mother is sold separately in such dry tones, makes it harder to turn away from. You are just faced with the bare starkness of it all. This IS what happened, and simply put. It is powerful in its relation. How this isnt mandatory reading is beyond me. I feel that even excerpts from this work would have substantially and radically changed my perception of my history lessons. The truth can never come too early for children, while sugar-coating history has the same effect as sugar coating teeth- you are left with decay, holes, and false teeth and tales. Perhaps it would be too hard and too brutal, but most of the world is too hard and too brutal, and if we never force ourselves to confront it in our comfortable castles in America, then it will also, inevitably, never change.