A Love Song for Ricki Wilde

While there are many obvious signs of history throughout New York City, Williams calls special attention to the smaller traces that most people tend not to notice unless they’re specifically looking for it. The novel’s dual time frames work in tandem to juxtapose modern Harlem with Old Harlem of the 1920s, which highlights the ways in which the past persists, though obscured by the newer developments of the region. In the present, Ricki admires the Italianate brownstones of Harlem, originally built during the period of the Harlem Renaissance: Her shop “was a beautifully restored antique, framed by leafy vines and vibrant wildflowers. To Ricki, a lifelong lover of bygone eras, the entire building felt like a gift delivered through time. Magical” (24). Because Ricki is attuned to the history of Striver’s Row—the nickname for the wealthy portion of Harlem settled in the early part of the 20th century by well-to-do Black professionals—she actively searches for traces of it, finding the lingering facets of its history beneath the modern additions. Due to gentrification, the area is now home to mainly chic upper-middle-class white families. However, Ricki highlights its rich Black history in a public way by laying bouquets at Old Harlem historical sites and posting photos of them on Instagram, which encourages others to learn about the history and culture—specifically Black history and culture—that saturates the district.

Ezra’s chapters, which take place in the 1920s, offer a much less subtle picture of the history of Harlem’s cultural significance. Using a key feature of the historical fiction genre, William seeds Ezra’s world with artistic people who were already or would go on to become icons of their fields. At the same time, the novel points out that while these famous names are still known in our day, the places where they performed, exhibited their work, or lived have often faded into oblivion or have been replaced other businesses. For instance, “An office building had taken over Hotel Theresa (oft frequented by Lena Horne and Cab Calloway, back when folks called it ‘the Waldorf Astoria of Harlem’). The Cotton Club was an apartment building. The Savoy, a cabaret once catering to the super elite, was now a supermarket” (98). However, Ricki finds that some place names or family connections remain visible. One example of this is the manager of the Eden Lounge cabaret in Harlem, Ezra’s friend Mickey Macchione. Although the Lounge burns down, Macchione’s name remains part of New York through Macchione Tropical Flowers, the business Mickey created during the Great Depression, which becomes Ricki’s favorite flower seller. In the present, the shop is run by Kelly Macchione—Mickey’s great-granddaughter. While finding such hidden history is difficult, the novel demonstrates that delving into the backstory of small institutions or the families associated with them can reveal meaningful stories that have shaped modern society.

In the novel, love is a quasi-magical force that is not bounded by time or human life spans; it is also, fittingly for a romance novel, proposed as one of the highest sources of joy and meaning. This perspective is given voice by Della, who speaks about her love for her husband Eustace as an eternal thing that goes beyond language:

To me, love is like listening to an album. Some people skip to their favorite songs and ignore the rest. Other people listen to the entire album over and over, until it’s familiar and cherished and they know every note by heart. That’s how Dr. Bennett and I loved each other. He was music I could listen to forever (21).

In contrast to her wise chosen grandmother, Ricki begins the novel with a cynical outlook on love; Ricki does not seek out deep romantic connections and instead settles for shallow flings based on physical attraction: “hot guys who, in lieu of having an established career, purported to be ‘collectors of experiences.’ Great kissers with shady living situations. Men who never tried to dig deep into who she was, but instead just happily ate up the easy, sexually agreeable version she showed them” (30). After meeting Ezra, Ricki takes Della’s paean to love more to heart, wondering whether she should invest in the preternatural bond she feels with this man who appreciates her and does actually want to “dig deep into who she was” (30). The transcendent power of love explains their mystical perfect match: Ezra has been dreaming about Ricki for a century.

Similarly, the novel also focuses on the lasting footprint of artistic production, which affects society long after the death of its creator. Ezra and Ricki’s aesthetic passions—music, floristry, and a reverence for the culture of the Harlem Renaissance—rely on the deep roots of each artistic practice. During the Harlem Renaissance, in a safe space where Black artists were shielded enough from the racist attitudes of the time to internalize that “Black wasn’t wrong. Black was right” (39), Ezra interacted with musicians whose work influenced all the generations that followed. As an immortal muse, he spent decades inspiring up-and-coming artists to compose music directly shaped by this past. In the present, Ricki also draws on Harlem’s rich culture for her self-expression, using her floristry to revitalize the area and remind others of its history. By leaving her lavish bouquets at Old Harlem spots and posting about their significance on her viral Instagram account, Ricki’s art reaches hundreds of thousands of people and showcases the lasting effects art has had on the region.