Fathering Words

What constitutes a good father, a good husband? Miller, an accomplished poet and director of the African American Resource Center at Howard University, muses deeply on this familiar question in his lyrical recounting of his South Bronx childhood. One of three children, Miller seems bewildered by his solitary, humble father, Egberto, a Panamanian who worked nights at the post office and slept away the days, remaining emotionally remote from his wife and family. Determined to understand Egberto's nonetheless unwavering familial commitment, the author, now a father and husband himself, revisits a crucial moment at age 10 when the brooding patriarch, not an especially chatty man, told him, ""I could leave your mother and be like everyone else."" In the end, Miller's intense probing produces more questions than answers, particularly in the case of his late brother, who surprised everyone by becoming a monk and who died young. Meanwhile, in a startling departure from the usual memoir formula, Miller inserts the energetic voice of his sister, Marie, a nurse, to complement his own sedate observations of his life and family. This bold device works on occasion, but it often breaks the rhythm and pacing of the narrative and can be confusing. Fortunately, Miller recovers his stride in the chapters that zero in on his growth as a poet and editor, his marriages and his maturation as a man and father. Modest and sincere, this restrained memoir also succeeds as a superb document of the Black Arts Movement of the 1970s and the current African-American literary scene. (June)