A dazzlingly inventive, deeply moving, intellectually bracing exploration of pain and beauty, private memory and public monument, art and complexity in contemporary Black life.

Christina Sharpe begins by writing about her mother and grandmother in Ordinary Notes. This singular achievement explores profound questions about loss, and the shapes of Black life that emerge in the wake. A series of 248 brief and urgent notes gather meaning as we read them, skillfully weaving artifacts from the past—public ones alongside others that are poignantly personal—with present-day realities and possible futures, intricately constructing an immersive portrait of everyday Black existence.

Themes and tones echo throughout the pages, sometimes about life, art, language, beauty, memory; sometimes about history, photography, and literature—but always attending, with exquisite care, to the ordinary-extraordinary dimensions of Black life.

At the heart of Ordinary Notes is the indelible presence of the author's mother, Ida Wright Sharpe. Sharpe writes, "I learned to see in my mother's house," and "My mother gifted me a love of beauty, a love of words." Using these gifts and other ways of seeing, she steadily summons a chorus of voices and experiences to become present on the page. She articulates and follows an aesthetic of "beauty as a method," collects entries from a community of thinkers towards a "Dictionary of Untranslatable Blackness," and rigorously examines sites of memory and memorial. And in the process, she forges a new literary form, as multivalent as the ways of Black being it traces.