Isaac’s Song – Daniel Black
Daniel Black’s “Isaac’s Song” is less a sequel to “Don’t Cry for Me” than a companion piece, giving Isaac’s long-awaited perspective on his relationship with his father, Jacob. While “Cry” was a reckoning told through a dying father’s letters, “Song” is a son’s introspective journey through memory, contradiction and generational trauma.
Encouraged by his therapist, Isaac journals about his life, emphasizing how his father sought to mold him into a traditionally masculine ideal. Black portrays this paternal pressure as complex — at times misguided and hurtful but ultimately rooted in fear.
Jacob’s discomfort with Isaac in a wig wasn’t about shame but the fear that white people were mocking him. These reflections make “Song” more about understanding than blame. However, where “Cry” delivered an urgent confrontation with the past, “Song” takes a more circuitous route, which often diluted its emotional impact.
Black’s prose is again soulful and personal, making Isaac’s voice feel like an intimate confession. Yet the novel frequently digresses into tangents in the shape of Isaac’s creative writing — some taking up entire chapters — which, while adding texture, slow momentum.
Isaac’s struggles with sexuality are layered and painfully relatable. He forces himself into lavender relationships, decorates his walls with “Jet” magazine women, yet his mannerisms betray his truth.
His first kiss with a man on prom night is a tender yet fearful moment that encapsulates the quiet battles of queer Black identity. However, for a novel set in the late ’80s and early ’90s, the AIDS crisis is underexplored, a missed opportunity given its relevance.
Faith is another significant theme. Isaac wrestles with religion, particularly the tension between his sexuality and the expectations of the church. Black captures the emotional push and pull of a faith that preaches both love and condemnation, adding depth to Isaac’s search for self-acceptance.
Racism is explored with more nuance, particularly through Isaac’s experiences at Microsoft and in academia. One of the novel’s most striking moments is his confrontation with a white classmate at the University of Chicago, only to be penalized with a lower grade for challenging privilege.
These moments, and his writing, all lead to Isaac’s larger realization: the forced separations of slavery created generations of Black men who struggled — or refused — to relate to one another and sought validation from others. This revelation reframes his father’s emotional distance, offering not forgiveness, but a profound shift in perspective.
Yet, despite these powerful themes, “Song” lacks the intensity of “Cry.” The novel’s most heartbreaking moment — Isaac embracing his father in recognition, if not full reconciliation — feels rushed, as if the narrative is racing to catch up.
In “Cry,” Jacob’s voice was desperate for redemption, making even his flawed reasoning compelling. Isaac, in contrast, is more contemplative, which, while thoughtful, creates a sense of distance from the reader. Instead of catharsis, this is a slow, winding journey toward understanding.
JD Jackson’s audiobook narration enriches the experience, bringing warmth and depth to Isaac’s voice. His performance makes the novel feel even more personal, reinforcing Black’s ability to craft deeply lived-in characters.
Ultimately, “Isaac’s Song” is a meaningful read, especially for BIPOC and queer readers navigating faith, family and identity. It’s not about seeking closure — it’s about merely making sense of the past, something many readers know all too well.
Rating (story): 4/5 stars
Rating (narration): 4/5 stars
Format: Audiobook (personal library)
Dates read: February 12 – February 16, 2025
Multi-tasking: Okay. The short chapters help this move along, but this is a book centered on introspection, so if you aren’t paying close attention you’ll miss important details and likely find yourself wondering about the point of it all.
