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The Heart of a Woman

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Overview

In The Heart of a Woman, Maya Angelou leaves California with her son, Guy, to move to New York. There she enters the society and world of black artists and writers, reads her work at the Harlem Writers Guild, and begins to take part in the struggle of black Americans for their rightful place in the world. In the meantime, her personal life takes an unexpected turn. She leaves the bail bondsman she was intending to marry after falling in love with a South African freedom fighter, travels with him to London and Cairo, where she discovers new opportunities.

The Heart of a Woman is filled with unforgettable vignettes of such renowned people as Billie Holiday and Malcom X, but perhaps most importantly chronicles the joys and the burdens of a black mother in America and how the son she has cherished so intensely and worked for so devotedly finally grows to be a man.

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Author Information

Bio of Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou 1928 - Maya Angelou was born Marguerite Johnson on April 4, 1928 in Saint Louis, Missouri. She attended public school in Stamps, Arkansas and San Francisco, California. She is perhaps best known for her semi-autobiographical work "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings", and for the tireless effort she puts forth to make the world aware. In her youth, Angelou traveled the world, eventually marrying a South African freedom fighter and settling in Cairo, where she edited The Arab Observer, the only English language weekly newspaper in the Middle East. They later moved to Ghana where she was Features Editor of The African Review and taught at the University of Ghana. In the 60's, Dr, Martin Luther King requested that Angelou return to the US to become the northern coordinator of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. She was later appointed to the Bicentennial Commission by President Ford and to the National Commission on the Observance of International Women's Year by President Carter. "Just Give Me a Cool Drink of Water 'Fore I Die" was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize in 1971. Ten years later, in 1981, Angelou was appointed to the lifetime position of Reynolds Professor of American Studies at Wake Forest University. Angelou became only the second poet in United States history to write and recite an original poem at a Presidential Inauguration; in 1993 she read "On the Pulse of Morning" at President Clinton's Inauguration Ceremony. In 1995, Angelou received an amazing amount of honors. Her semi-autobiographical tale, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings", which was originally published in 1970, became the longest running nonfiction best seller by an African American on the New York Times Bestsellers List. That same year, "A Brave and Startling Truth" was recited at the 50th Anniversary celebration of the United Nations, and "From a Black Woman to a Black Man" was recited at the Million Man March in Washington D. C.. Angelou is best known, however, for the five books of her autobiography, beginning with "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" (1970), which she adapted for television, through "All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes" (1986). Angelou's collection of essays entitled "Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now" was published in 1993. She has assumed the roles of poet, educator, historian, author, actress, playwright, civil rights activist, producer and director. Angelou had also appeared in the movie "Roots" and was nominated for Best Supporting Actress in 1977 for her role in the movie. She also had a role in the movie, "How to Make an American Quilt" and wrote and produced "Afro-Americans in the Arts", a PBS special for which she received a Golden Eagle Award. She is the author of 11 best selling books.

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Additional Info

Imprint

Random House Trade Paperbacks

Filesize

1.36 MB

Number of Pages

352

eBook ISBN

9781588369246

Excerpt from: The Heart of a Woman by Maya Angelou

The Harlem Writer's Guild was meeting at John's house, and my palms were sweating and my tongue was thick.  The loosely formed organization, without  dues or membership cards, had one strict rule: any invited guest could sit in  for three meetings, but thereafter, the visitor had to read from his or her  work in progress.  My time had come. Sara Wright and Sylvester Leeks  stood in a corner talking softly.  John Clarke was staring at titles in the  bookcase.  Mary Delaney and Millie Jordan were giving their coats to Grace  and exchanging greetings.  The other writers were already seated around the  living room in a semicircle. John Killens walked past me, touching my  shoulder, took his seat and called the meeting to order. "O.K.,  everybody.  Let's start." Chairs scraped the floor and the sounds  reverberated in my armpits.  "As you know, our newest member, our California  singer, is going to read from her new play.  What's the title,  Maya?" "One Love, One Life."  My usually deep voice leaked out  high-pitched and weak. A writer asked how many acts the play had.  I  answered again in the piping voice, "So far only one." Everyone  laughed; they thought I was making a joke. "If everyone is ready, we  can begin." John picked up his note pad.  There was a loud rustling as the  writers prepared to take notes. I read the character and set  description despite the sudden perversity of my body.  The blood pounded in  my ears but not enough to drown the skinny sound of my voice.  My hands shook  so that I had to lay the pages in my lap, but that was not a good solution  due to the tricks my knees were playing.  They lifted voluntarily, pulling my  heels off the floor and then trembled like disturbed Jello.  Before I  launched into the play's action, I looked around at the writers expecting but  hoping not to see their amusement at my predicament.  Their faces were  studiously blank.  Within a year, I was to learn that each had a horror story  about a first reading at the Harlem Writers Guild. Time wrapped itself  around every word, slowing me.  I couldn't force myself to read faster. The  pages seemed to be multiplying even as I was trying to reduce them.  The play  was dull, the characters, unreal, and the dialogue was taken entirely off the  back of a Campbell's soup can.  I knew this was my first and last time at the  Guild.  Even if I hadn't the grace to withdraw voluntarily, I was certain the  members had a method of separating the wheat from the chaff. "The End."  At last. The members laid their notes down beside their chairs  and a few got up to use the toilets.  No one spoke.  Even as I read I knew  the drama was bad, but maybe someone would have lied a little. The  room filled.  Only the whispering of papers shifting