[Book Review] Toni Morrison's 'Beloved'—A Story of the Ghost's Call and Memory
Introduction: Why Read 'Beloved' Now?
Since its publication in 1987, Toni Morrison's masterpiece 'Beloved' has been read as a monument of American literature. The author later became the first African American woman to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1993, cementing her place in the history of American literature. 'Beloved' is the work that most densely expresses her stance as a writer and her literary perspective, and it is a novel that offers new questions every time it is read.
What Morrison depicts is the story of former slaves living in America after the Civil War. However, it is not merely a historical novel. Woven into it are the more universal themes of 'memory' and 'ghosts' that resonate with us across time and place. At the core of the novel is the fact that what happened in the past is not forgotten, but returns to the present in a different form. Morrison depicted this 'returning thing' in the form of a ghost named 'Beloved'.
If we are to interpret this work as a late-night cultural dispatch, the point to focus on is the perspective of the 'ghost's call.' Voices that have been forgotten, erased from records, and excluded from the official language of history appear as ghosts. This resonates not only with Black history but also with the universal challenge of how to accept the 'invisible pain' that humanity carries. That is precisely why 'Beloved' resonates so urgently with us living in the modern age.
Chapter 1: Synopsis—A House Living with a Ghost
The story is set in Cincinnati, Ohio, after the American Civil War. The protagonist, Sethe, once lived as a slave on a plantation in Kentucky. The brutal life there left her with scars that would never fade. She fell in love and had children at a young age, but she decided to escape the condition of slavery with her family. The escape was a life-or-death struggle, but what awaited her after she had finally attained freedom was an even more harrowing choice.
After escaping, when pursuers closed in, Sethe killed her young daughter with her own hands out of an intense desire to 'not let her child be a slave again.' It is a truly shocking act. However, it was also the extreme of a mother's love. To give her child freedom, she had no choice but to choose death—that painful decision would bind Sethe's own life forever.
Time passed, the Civil War ended, and slavery was abolished. Yet, the past continued to reside in Sethe's house as a ghost. Only Sethe and her second daughter, Denver, live in that house, which everyone fears and avoids. Furniture moved on its own, the house never stopped creaking, and the presence of the ghost became a part of daily life. '124,' which isolated its inhabitants, seemed as if the past itself was physically residing there.
Then, a young woman appears. She calls herself 'Beloved' and enters the house. Her age and background are unclear, and she carries an eerie presence. Her name was the same as the word 'Beloved' that Sethe had engraved on a tombstone. In other words, it is implied that she is the ghost of the daughter Sethe killed, having taken on a physical form.
Beloved eventually comes to dominate the family's life. Sethe accepts her as her daughter and gives everything to her as if to atone for her sins. While Denver is bewildered by the bizarre situation, she is tossed about by the relationship between her mother and this being who is like a sister. People around them fear the unsettling atmosphere drifting from the house and begin to avoid any involvement.
What is depicted here is not merely horror. The ghost signifies the 'embodiment of past guilt' and, furthermore, the 'return of the history of slavery itself.' The past that Sethe carries is a personal tragedy, but at the same time, it is a historical wound that the entire Black community has carried. That is why the appearance of Beloved becomes an existence that shakes not only her but the entire community.
As the story progresses, the reader is confronted with the question, 'Is the past really over?' Although slavery should have been abolished, its memory is etched into people's hearts and bodies, dominating the days they live in the present. Beloved is the symbol of this, and proof that history 'cannot be forgotten.'
From the beginning of the novel, what is repeatedly emphasized is the unsettling atmosphere of the house and the presence of the ghost. This is both a staging of fear and a message to the reader that 'this is the call of history itself.' Morrison depicts the ghost not just as a supernatural phenomenon or a metaphor, but as a force that erodes reality itself. The ghost does not disappear; rather, it keeps saying, 'I am here.' The reader cannot resist that call and is drawn into the story.
What becomes clear at this point in the first chapter is that 'Beloved' is a 'story of resisting oblivion' through a ghost. The ghost residing in Sethe's house is an existence that keeps shouting 'it is not over yet' against the force that tries to bury history. Morrison uses the voice of that ghost to try to revive the history of those who have been silenced.
Chapter 2: The Ghost's Call—As a Return of Memory
The ghost that appears in 'Beloved' is not just a ghost story entity. Rather, it can be said to be a phenomenon where the past history itself raises its voice and erodes the present. The young woman named 'Beloved' who resides in Sethe's house is the daughter her mother killed herself, and at the same time, a symbol of the erased memory of slavery itself.
What is important here is that this ghost can be read as a 'voice resisting oblivion.' Although the history of slavery was abolished as an institution, the pain etched into people's memories and bodies does not easily disappear. In American society, the hardships experienced by Black people have often been suppressed and forbidden from being told. It is Beloved who breaks that space of silence and forcibly returns to the present. She approaches Sethe and the reader as an existence that 'will not let you pretend to forget.'
When thinking about this 'ghost's call,' one cannot help but recall the concept of 'hauntology' used by Derrida in 'Specters of Marx.' While a ghost is an existence that belongs to the past, it simultaneously shakes the present and the future. When an event that should have passed returns as 'not over,' we are forced to respond to it. Morrison's novel possesses exactly that kind of power, dragging the reader into the story.
Furthermore, we can superimpose the perspectives shown by postcolonial thinkers such as Spivak and Bhabha. As I will discuss in detail later, Spivak asked 'Can the Subaltern Speak?' and criticized the structure in which the voices of people who have been erased under colonialism are not made visible. Bhabha presented a space where a new narrative is born through the 'third space,' where the boundaries between domination and subordination fluctuate. The ghost in 'Beloved' is exactly the existence where that 'voiceless voice' appears with a form. While linked to Sethe's personal guilt, it is also a return of the memory of the entire Black community. In other words, the ghost embodies the voiceless cry of the community while being the pain of one mother.
In the story, Beloved gradually consumes Sethe's life. Her presence grows, and Sethe becomes trapped in the past, gradually losing her time in the present. The figure of giving everything to a ghost is an extreme depiction of a person who cannot forget the past. What is here is not merely psychological conflict, but the power of memory that refuses the erasure of history.
When readers encounter this description, they are forced to confront the fact that "the past is never over." The past does not simply vanish into the distance of time; it appears at our feet as a ghost. Morrison expresses this through the power of literature, guiding us to listen to the call of the ghost.
Chapter 3: Love and Violence Between Mother and Child—Beyond Individual Stories
The most shocking episode in 'Beloved' is the scene where Sethe kills her young daughter with her own hands. This act demonstrates that love and violence as a mother are inextricably linked. Fearing that her child would be returned to a life of slavery, she decides, "If I let her live, she will have a slave's life, so I will choose death for her." A complex swirl of emotions—love and fear, hope and despair—is contained within that decision.
This choice is the ultimate act of maternal love, yet simultaneously an irreversible act of violence. Morrison depicts this contradiction head-on and forces it upon the reader. The contradiction inherent in the purest of relationships—motherhood—was forced into an extreme form by the specific circumstances of slavery. What we see here is not merely an individual tragedy, but the reality of how a system distorts the very nature of human love.
Furthermore, Sethe's act is not hers alone; it resonates throughout the entire community. Those around her cannot understand the act, alienating her and isolating her family. Yet, at the same time, the act symbolizes the historical pain that the community has carried. The institution of slavery destroys the relationship between mother and child, turning love into violence. This structure is the greatest tragedy presented in 'Beloved'.
The ghost named Beloved makes this contradiction visible. A child killed by a mother's love returns as a ghost—for Sethe, this is both the embodiment of her sin and the flip side of her love. While readers may feel terror at this ghost, they are forced to look directly at the "cruelty of the form of love" within it.
This theme is universal for us living in the modern age as well. The relationship between parent and child exists in every era, and within it, the desire to protect and the dangers of control coexist. By redrawing that relationship within the context of historical violence, 'Beloved' has laid bare the light and shadow of motherhood.
What becomes clear by the end of this chapter is that 'Beloved' is not just an individual story, but a narrative that carries the memory and history of the community itself. The distortion of mother-child love was caused by the institution of slavery, and by depicting it in the form of a ghost, Morrison presses the reader, saying, "This is your own question as well."
Chapter 4: Reading from a Postcolonial Context
Essential to understanding 'Beloved' is the fact that this work occupies an important corner of postcolonial literature. Slavery was the foundation that supported the American nation, but it was also an institution that existed as an extension of colonialism. Black people were forcibly transported across the Atlantic as "commodities," stripped of their humanity, and forced into labor. From the perspective of the rulers, this history has often been romanticized or concealed. Shining a light on those "hidden parts" is also the literary mission of 'Beloved'.
This brings to mind Gayatri C. Spivak's question, "Can the Subaltern Speak?" She pointed out the structure in which those marginalized under colonial rule can only speak within the language system of the rulers, making it difficult for their own voices to truly resonate. The ghost in 'Beloved' can be read as the embodiment of this "voice forbidden to speak." The voices of those who were oppressed and left out of the records return as a ghost. As an existence that cannot be fully grasped by the language system of the living, she continues to shake Sethe and the community.
Also important is the concept of the "Third Space" discussed by Homi K. Bhabha. Under colonial rule, the binary opposition of ruler and ruled does not simply hold; rather, new cultural formations are born in the space between them. The ghost in 'Beloved' is the very embodiment of that "in-between." She exists between life and death, living in the past and present simultaneously. She cannot simply be called "the dead" or "the living." Rather, because of that ambiguity, the reader is placed in the fissures of history.
What Morrison attempted in the form of literature was to give birth to a new voice from these fissures. She resurrects the voices of those lost without record in the form of a ghost. That voice is eerie and often destructive, but that is precisely why it has the power to change reality. The call echoing from the silence shakes the language of domination and opens up the possibility of a different story.
In this way, 'Beloved' goes beyond individual stories to take on postcolonial questions head-on. It is an attempt to break the silence created by colonialism and recover oppressed history. By standing on the side of the ruled, Morrison's literature retells the existence of those whose voices were stolen.
Chapter 5: Memory and Narrative—The Responsibility of Reading
One of the characteristics of 'Beloved' is the complexity of its narrative. The story does not progress linearly; fragmented memories intersect, and time unfolds by moving back and forth. Readers are often confused, but that is exactly what expresses the nature of memory itself. Memory is not lined up like an organized chronology; it suddenly revives and covers the present. Morrison utilized this instability as a literary technique.
Embedded in this way of storytelling is the will to resist oblivion. Voices that have been erased throughout history cannot be contained within a linear, orderly narrative. They appear only as fragments and can only be told as shards. Even so, by gathering those fragments, a new story is woven. The difficulty of reading 'Beloved' is proof of this "fragmentation" and is a device that tells the reader, "Do not try to understand this easily."
What is questioned here is the reader's own stance. Reading 'Beloved' is not simply about knowing past events. It asks us to listen to the call of the ghost and how we respond to that voice. It is about resisting a society that desires oblivion and taking on the responsibility of passing on the story. Through literature, Morrison places the reader in this space of responsibility.
As a late-night culture dispatch, I want to consider how this "responsibility of reading" connects to the present day. It is easy to think of past history as something distant. However, the ghost in 'Beloved' forces us to confront the fact that the past encroaches upon the present. If we ignore forgotten voices, those voices will return as ghosts. That is why we must continue to speak.
This "responsibility of reading" is by no means just a heavy burden. Rather, it is also a hope for creating the future. Taking on memory is the first step toward not repeating the past. And listening to the voice of the ghost is also a way to acknowledge the existence of the "other" who was not seen, and to open a path to living together.
Engaging with the fragmented and difficult narrative of 'Beloved' is nothing less than preparation for encountering the other. In doing so, readers learn an attitude of respecting voices and touching upon pain and memories that differ from their own. The power of literature lies in guiding us toward becoming 'beings who exist with others' in this way.
Morrison's novel does not offer readers easy answers. One cannot exorcise the ghost, nor can one fully heal the pain. Yet, we continue to listen to the voice and continue to tell the story. That is where the meaning of reading lies. 'Beloved' is a work that invites the reader into that endeavor.
Conclusion—Living with Memory Together
When we finish reading 'Beloved,' we are deeply moved by the realization that 'the past is not over.' The historical fact of slavery should have been abolished. However, its pain and violence are deeply etched into people's bodies, minds, and the relationships within communities, echoing into the present. Beloved, who returns as a ghost, was the presence that confronted the reader with this fact.
A ghost is something terrifying and eerie. However, the ghost Morrison depicted is not merely something to be exorcised. Rather, she appears as a 'voice to live with.' Memories pushed into the darkness of oblivion take the form of a ghost, drawing close to us and prompting us to speak. Only when we strain our ears to hear the calls of those without a voice can we finally face history.
Sethe's story is a personal tragedy and, at the same time, symbolizes the historical trauma of the Black community. The reality where the relationship between mother and child was torn apart by institutions, and love had to be transformed into violence. While this is a specific situation from the past, it is also a universal problem that human society carries. 'Beloved' depicts that pain without looking away and asks the reader, 'How will you accept this memory?'
What is required here is not oblivion, but acceptance. Carrying memory is a painful endeavor, but if we avoid it, the ghost will return again and again. Rather, the stance of living with the ghost is the key to opening the future. Not forcing a settlement with the past, but moving forward while holding onto memory. Human hope resides within that imperfection.
If you open this novel late at night, the voice of the ghost will echo from beyond the quiet pages. That voice is the pain of another, and at the same time, it is a question for ourselves. Reading is not an act of peering into someone else's distant story, but an endeavor to reflect upon our own lives. What Morrison demonstrated was the fact that literature can become a place to relive memory.
After closing 'Beloved,' what we can do is not ignore that voice, but continue to tell the story. By speaking, memory is shared, and the ghost changes from mere terror into a companion with whom we walk. While holding onto what must not be forgotten, we pass the story on to the next generation. Therein lies the responsibility of reading literature, and at the same time, the hope.
Morrison's novel does not easily comfort the reader. However, the endeavor to respond to the ghost's call itself becomes a power that shapes the future. 'Beloved' is a work that shows us this quietly, yet surely.
