Neither does Wilkerson spend much time on the experiences of those surrounding the particular migrants whose stories she shares. Instead, the focus is on the repellant nature of Jim Crow, which no doubt had a lot to do with why people left, but doesn’t, by itself, tell the whole story. Both these push and pull factors are given short shrift. What gets lost as a result are some of the less personal push factors that drove the migration, including the mechanization of agriculture, especially cotton, and powerful pull factors, including sudden and massive Northern industrial expansion driven by the great wars. We live the history of the migration through the imaginations and fears of those whose stories are shared. Of course, using personal stories, especially of just three people among millions, has its limitations. I found it compulsively readable and highly educational. By using personal accounts, Wilkerson humanizes this bit of history, giving us real people to relate to and root for, and a personal sense of the migration beyond its broad economic, social, and political impact on the nation.

Wilkerson relates slices of this history through the stories of three people, each of whom started their journeys from different locations, both socially and geographically, before ending up in Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York. The migrants whose stories are shared were driven out of the South by the humiliations and horrors of Jim Crow and drawn Northward by stories, many apocryphal, of the North as a promised land of freedom and opportunity conveyed by Northern labor recruiters, the black press, and word of mouth. The Warmth of Other Suns is a compelling account of the great migration of African Americans who fled the South for Northern cities in the early to late-mid 20th century.

Then I want you to tell me what you think of it. I know I’ve said this already, but I want you to read it, now, if you haven’t already. Isabel Wilkerson’s The Warmth of Other Suns is a great read.

The warmth of other suns book review