Peel me a Book

Let's Peel

Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments

An experiment in listening to the lives no one thought worth remembering.

Perfect if you want to hold the archive close and feel it start to breathe.

Synopsis

"To tell a story capable of engaging life in the act."

A polyphonic, aching reimagining of the early 20th century lives of Black girls and women, this book dissolves the lines between fact and speculation, scholar and storyteller. Hartman doesn’t restore lives—she dreams alongside them, tracing gestures of refusal, improvisation, and beauty in the cracks of systemic brutality. Each chapter hums with intimacy and rage, exposing what it means to try and live freely in a world that punishes the attempt.

This isn’t about recovering the past—it’s about letting it haunt, break, and remake us.

Mood:

intimate · radical · disruptive · haunting

Tone:

lyrical · historical · defiant · elegiac

It Feels Like

Body:

a trembling in the chest, like being seen and never un-seen again

Tempo:

shifting—like a breath held too long, then released in chorus

Texture:

the softness of worn paper laced with blood and perfume

A Little Taste

“Waywardness is a practice of possibility at a time when all roads, except the ones created by smashing out, are foreclosed. It obeys no rules and abides no authorities. It is unrepentant. It traffics in occult visions of other worlds and dreams of a different kind of life. Waywardness is an ongoing exploration of what might be; it is an improvisation with the terms of social existence, when the terms have already been dictated, when there is little room to breathe, when you have been sentenced to a life of servitude, when the house of bondage looms in whatever direction you move. It is the untiring practice of trying to live when you were never meant to survive.”

The Aftertaste

A shift from curiosity to grief, and then toward awe

Undoes the myth of the archive as objective truth

You feel wide-awake

Opens a space to mourn what was lost—and imagine otherwise

Peel With a Drink

To Be read With a chilled Mondeuse Noire — a Savoyard red, wild with black cherry, violet, cracked pepper, and bitter herbs. It’s a grape that was nearly erased, like so many of the lives in this book—survivor of frost, obscurity, and neglect.

Drink it alone, or with someone who’s had to rewrite their own story more than once. Let it stain.

Peel With a Reel

Cane River (1982, dir. Horace B. Jenkins) — A forgotten Black love story, rich in subtext, reclaiming softness and history on its own terms.

I Am Not Your Negro (2016, dir. Raoul Peck) — Baldwin’s unfinished words brought to life—a confrontation, a poem, a mirror.

Peel me a Book
Or Try:

Audre Lorde

Both authors craft language like it’s blood. They don’t write what happened—they write what matters.

Let's Peel

Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments

An experiment in listening to the lives no one thought worth remembering.

Perfect if you want to hold the archive close and feel it start to breathe.

Synopsis

"To tell a story capable of engaging life in the act."

A polyphonic, aching reimagining of the early 20th century lives of Black girls and women, this book dissolves the lines between fact and speculation, scholar and storyteller. Hartman doesn’t restore lives—she dreams alongside them, tracing gestures of refusal, improvisation, and beauty in the cracks of systemic brutality. Each chapter hums with intimacy and rage, exposing what it means to try and live freely in a world that punishes the attempt.

This isn’t about recovering the past—it’s about letting it haunt, break, and remake us.

Mood:

intimate · radical · disruptive · haunting

Tone:

lyrical · historical · defiant · elegiac

It Feels Like

Body:

a trembling in the chest, like being seen and never un-seen again

Tempo:

shifting—like a breath held too long, then released in chorus

Texture:

the softness of worn paper laced with blood and perfume

A Little Taste

“Waywardness is a practice of possibility at a time when all roads, except the ones created by smashing out, are foreclosed. It obeys no rules and abides no authorities. It is unrepentant. It traffics in occult visions of other worlds and dreams of a different kind of life. Waywardness is an ongoing exploration of what might be; it is an improvisation with the terms of social existence, when the terms have already been dictated, when there is little room to breathe, when you have been sentenced to a life of servitude, when the house of bondage looms in whatever direction you move. It is the untiring practice of trying to live when you were never meant to survive.”

The Aftertaste

A shift from curiosity to grief, and then toward awe

Undoes the myth of the archive as objective truth

You feel wide-awake

Opens a space to mourn what was lost—and imagine otherwise

Peel With a Drink

To Be read With a chilled Mondeuse Noire — a Savoyard red, wild with black cherry, violet, cracked pepper, and bitter herbs. It’s a grape that was nearly erased, like so many of the lives in this book—survivor of frost, obscurity, and neglect.

Drink it alone, or with someone who’s had to rewrite their own story more than once. Let it stain.

Peel With a Reel

Cane River (1982, dir. Horace B. Jenkins) — A forgotten Black love story, rich in subtext, reclaiming softness and history on its own terms.

I Am Not Your Negro (2016, dir. Raoul Peck) — Baldwin’s unfinished words brought to life—a confrontation, a poem, a mirror.