belies a powerful sense of urgency that aligns with nature's rhythms. As the story unfolds, Mama Day's wisdom and influence are pivotal in confronting supernatural challenges on the island, proving her as a guardian who harmonizes the mystical with the mundane.

The Supernatural and Human Trials

The climax of Mama Day’s narrative is marked by trials that test her resolve and the community's unity. Ruby, a character consumed by vanity and jealousy, curses Cocoa, threatening the harmony that has sustained Willow Springs. Mama Day’s reaction to this malevolence—drawing a lightning bolt to Ruby’s home and healing Cocoa with her ancient knowledge—demonstrates the interplay of the supernatural and the scientific. Naylor’s narrative suggests that the resolution of such conflicts requires understanding and channeling cosmic forces while nurturing human connections.

Enduring Themes and Legacy

The novel's themes are encapsulated in the portrayal of a once-in-a-century hurricane, a natural calamity that tests the resilience and cooperation of Willow Springs’ inhabitants. This event underscores the community’s ability to adapt and rebuild, reinforcing the island's enduring legacy. Mama Day remains an emblem of the community's strength, a matriarch whose life bridges the past and future with wisdom and grace.

A Vision of African American Life

Miranda Day defies the stereotypes of black conjure women, embodying a deeply significant role within the African American community and the broader American narrative. Her life is a testament to the potential for personal growth and appreciation of life’s abundance. In Naylor’s hands, she becomes not only a matriarch but also a vessel for the intangible essence of black American culture, challenging readers to see beyond societal constraints and embrace the richness of diverse experiences.

The balance between urban and rural, tradition and modernity, is intricately woven throughout Naylor’s work, illustrating that each environment offers its own form of sustenance. This duality is mirrored in Mama Day’s rare visit to New York, where she perceives life’s complexity beyond the city’s superficial chaos, much like George once showed Cocoa. While many characters in Mama Day captivate, it is Miranda Day who occupies the narrative’s heart, epitomizing the timeless and indefinable qualities of black American life.

Rise of the Black Middle Class
During the 1980s, some African-Americans began to attain a level of material success previously unattainable. Despite the social advancements from the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 1960s, economic inequality remained a significant issue for blacks in America. By the 1970s, urban areas saw stark segregation, with impoverished African-Americans residing in inner-city ghettos of subsidized housing, while white families moved to affluent suburban neighborhoods. However, in the 1980s, the effects of affirmative action (initiated in 1965), coupled with a thriving economy and decreasing unemployment rates, enabled some African-Americans to secure well-paying jobs. For the first time, a notable number of black Americans joined the middle class. Some relocated to affluent white neighborhoods, while others formed their own prosperous communities, like those depicted by Naylor in Linden Hills (1985). These changes led to concerns among many, including Naylor, that middle-class blacks were losing touch with their cultural roots and adopting white values and beliefs.

In both Linden Hills and Mama Day, Naylor examines the adverse effects of this transformation on African-Americans. George, a character in Mama Day, embodies the affluent black person who is "dark on the outside and white on the inside," a concept encapsulated by the term "Oreo," popular in the 1980s.

African-American Women's Renaissance
The 1970s saw the rise of Toni Morrison and Alice Walker as nationally acclaimed authors, marking the beginning of a renaissance for African-American women writers. Walker's The Color Purple (1982) was adapted into a film by Steven Spielberg. Morrison's works, including The Song of Solomon (1977) and Beloved (1987), garnered widespread acclaim, culminating in her receiving the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1993. Other authors, such as Toni Cade Bambara, Maya Angelou, Gayl Jones, and Ntozake Shange, also gained recognition, reinforcing the notion of a creative flourishing among black women writers. As Morrison remarked in a conversation with Naylor, published in The Southern Review in 1985, referring to the significant works by black women, "It's a real renaissance. You know, we have spoken of renaissance before. But this one is ours, not somebody else's."

African-American women writers have played such a pivotal role in American literature that some critics argue they have produced the most compelling and influential fiction of the late twentieth century. When Naylor attended college in the late 1970s and early 1980s, she encountered these authors and their predecessors (notably Zora Neale Hurston) for the first time. Their examinations of slavery, racism, black pride, and the dual discrimination faced by black women (both as women and as African Americans) deeply inspired Naylor, making her realize she had a unique voice to contribute as a writer.

Morrison's work, in particular, had a significant impact on her. In the preface to her 1985 conversation with Morrison, Naylor mentioned that Morrison's The Bluest Eye (1971) marked the "beginning" for her. She explained that it "said to a young poet, struggling to break into prose, that the barriers were flexible; at the core of it all is language, and if you're skilled enough with that, you can create your own genre. And it said to a young black woman, struggling to find a mirror of her worth in this society, not only is your story worth telling but it can be told in words so painstakingly eloquent that it becomes a song."

Narrator
A standout feature of Mama Day is its use of multiple narrators, as Cocoa explains to George at the conclusion, "There are just too many sides to the whole story." Approximately half to two-thirds of the book is dedicated to George and Cocoa's dialogue, presented through alternating first-person narratives. These sections are distinguished from the rest of the text by three diamond symbols.

Identifying the narrator for the remainder of the novel is challenging. Most critics refer to it as the collective voice of Willow Springs. However, at times it resembles an omniscient narrator who observes everything without participating in the story, and occasionally it appears to emanate from Mama Day's consciousness. In the novel's preface, the voice from Willow Springs addresses the reader, "Think about it: ain't nobody really talking to you. We're sitting here in Willow Springs, and you're God-knows-where.… Really listen this time: the only voice is your own." Given the novel's emphasis on various perspectives, it is fitting that this unnamed narrator adopts different viewpoints, even including the reader in its magical realm.

Setting
In the first half of the novel, George and Cocoa reside in New York, with their experiences there alternating with events in Willow Springs. The latter half of the novel is set entirely in Willow Springs, a fictional locale. These two settings offer a stark contrast. New York is a bustling metropolis, while Willow Springs is a small, rural island. Additionally, while New York is globally renowned, Willow Springs isn't even marked on maps, and its residents prefer it that way. "Part of Willow Springs's problems was that it got put on some maps right after the War Between the States."

The island is situated off the coast near the border of South Carolina and Georgia, with neither state claiming it. As a result, Willow Springs is an autonomous, self-governing community that participates only in presidential elections. Although phone lines extend over the sound and television signals reach the island, its connections to the mainland are tenuous: "We done learned that anything coming from beyond the bridge gotta be viewed real, real careful." The bridge is even destroyed by a storm approximately every sixty-nine years, severing its link to the mainland, as occurs during the hurricane. Willow Springs doesn't truly feel like part of the United States. Its beliefs and customs are more akin to those brought over from Africa by its ancestors than to the ones George knows from New York.

SymbolsMama Day employs numerous symbols, starting with the island of Willow Springs itself. More than just a secluded rural community, Willow Springs symbolizes another world that is neither American nor African, neither entirely real nor completely imaginary. It is a place where the past remains vibrant and the boundaries between the living and the dead are blurred.

On the island, numerous elements hold symbolic significance, such as the chickens, which are linked to Mama Day, fertility, and femininity. When George confronts the chickens, he is facing all the enigmatic forces of Cocoa, the Day family, and Willow Springs. The quilt that Abigail and Mama Day create for Cocoa represents a tapestry of the Day family, designed to remind her of her cultural roots. The bridge serves as both a literal and symbolic connection between Willow Springs (representing the imaginary and the past) and the mainland (symbolizing the real and the present). When a storm, carrying symbolic meaning from Africa, destroys the bridge, George fears not only that he cannot find a "real" doctor for Cocoa but also that they are ensnared in this mystical world.

Additionally, hands hold significant importance in how Mama Day perceives her connection to her ancestors and the necessary steps to save Cocoa. George must "hand" over his self-belief to Mama Day: "She needs his hand in hers—his very hand—so she can connect it up with all the believing that had gone before.… So together they could build the bridge for Baby Girl to walk over." By joining hands, symbolically, they can heal her together.

Magical RealismMama Day is best described as magical realism, where the everyday and the supernatural coexist and intertwine within the narrative. In this context, the magical becomes as "real" as the ordinary aspects of the story. In Mama Day, the world of Willow Springs includes realistic elements, such as Mama Day watching "The Phil Donahue Show" and Bernice falling ill from a fertility drug. There are also magical elements, like Mama Day assisting Bernice in conceiving through a mystical fertility ritual involving chicken eggs and Cocoa hearing the voices of her ancestors at the other place. Moreover, the "real" aspects of the story are associated with the rational, white world of the United States mainland, while the magical aspects are rooted in African folk medicine and beliefs, centered on the island of Willow Springs. Consequently, Willow Springs becomes a place where the "real" and magical harmoniously coexist.

Naylor's use of varying points of view subtly highlights cultural differences, the enduring impact of the past, the significance of tradition, the potential for magic, and the presence of the inexplicable. The narrative alternates between first-person accounts from George and Cocoa and third-person perspectives focused on Miranda's activities during the same timeframe. In the sections narrated by Cocoa and George, they take turns addressing each other, reflecting on their meeting and relationship. These parts reveal Cocoa's emotional tendencies and her quickness to jump to conclusions, contrasted with George's more cautious, restrained, and logical demeanor. However, since they narrate their stories after the events of the novel, with a more mature perspective, their voices show a layer of self-awareness and more integrated personalities. The language in their sections also highlights their education and greater assimilation into mainstream society.

The third-person sections, narrated in a collective voice, reflect a more communal spirit, and the colloquial language captures the essence of the culture. The prologue and ending imply that Cocoa returns to Willow Springs to "talk" to George, and the first-person sections become their conversations, resembling a Willow Springs tradition known as a "Standing Forth." This tradition is a type of funeral without flowers or music where residents gather to address the dead, sharing memories of "when I first saw you" and expectations for "when I see you again." Thus, the dead are never truly gone; despite death, there remains a form of communication.

Naylor employs additional techniques to suggest the merging of past, present, and future, particularly through Miranda's stream-of-consciousness flashbacks and significant foreshadowing from both Miranda's and Cocoa's perspectives. While Miranda's narrative is clear and accessible, the language in the flashbacks and foreshadowing becomes denser and more complex, filled with wordplay. References to the family's loss of Peace—symbolizing both the names of two children and the family's loss of tranquility—carry double meanings with substantial symbolic weight. Similarly, references to George's literal and metaphorical heart troubles serve a dual purpose. Through these passages, Naylor both directly and indirectly elucidates her symbolic and thematic concerns.

The novel raises important issues regarding gender, race, and culture that should encourage engaging discussions. Additionally, themes like the interplay between faith and reason, as well as rationality versus intuition, are likely to spark debate. The book also offers numerous opportunities for technical analysis. For example, the stream-of-consciousness flashback scenes and more complex lyrical passages act almost like puzzle pieces, helping readers comprehend the influence of past generations, the importance of George's final mission, and Cocoa's eventual growth and maturity.

1. Although their ancestors were enslaved many generations ago—and were unusual cases of slaves who gained freedom and owned significant property—their legacy persists in the attitudes and traditions of Willow Springs. How has this heritage resulted in positive outcomes? What about negative ones?

2. Naylor appears to support and celebrate women's empowerment along with activities and values traditionally linked to women and non-Western cultures. What are some examples of these activities and values? What does Naylor imply about the role of men? Does she consider more Western, male-centric values like logic and rationality to be valuable?

3. How can the novel's mystical events be interpreted through a rational lens? In what ways do they defy explanation?

4. How would the novel's meaning change if the dense, lyrical flashback passages were omitted?

5. How do George and Cocoa evolve throughout the novel? Does Miranda experience any significant transformations, or does she remain a relatively static character?

The connections between generations and the legacy passed down are central themes in Mama Day. The novel's primary setting, Willow Springs, is an island located off the coast of South Carolina and Georgia but belongs to neither state. This geographical isolation symbolizes the residents' resistance to mainstream American culture and their pride in maintaining the values and traditions handed down through generations. While the tension between generations and cultures has universal appeal, Naylor also uses it to highlight other enduring social issues. As descendants of slaves, the residents of Willow Springs inherit the effects of racism and colonization. Through the history of the Day family, known for its strong and powerful women, Naylor celebrates traditionally feminine values and sources of female power while portraying characters of both genders seeking relationship and balance.

The title character, Miranda Day, embodies black female power, much like her ancestor Sapphira Wade. She is skilled in healing and attuned to natural forces, abilities traditionally associated with women. These abilities, often seen as mysterious and threatening, were the basis for many witchcraft accusations throughout European history, which also influenced the Salem witch trials. Miranda serves as a mother figure to many islanders, and her gifts can be traced back to Sapphira, a "true conjure woman" legendary for tricking her master into deeding the island to his slaves. Some versions of the story even claim Sapphira killed him afterward. Sapphira's legend profoundly influences the natives of Willow Springs, shaped by a belief in magic that sometimes borders on superstition and a strong sense of autonomy and freedom.

Miranda takes immense pride in her culture while grappling with her role as a healer and the family's tragic history. This history will be part of the legacy passed on to her grandniece, Ophelia, nicknamed Cocoa. Cocoa's father left before her birth, her grandmother suffered a miscarriage so traumatic she hasn't returned to her ancestral home in fifty years, and her great-grandmother—Mama Day's own mother—committed suicide after one of her children drowned in a well. The novel's prologue, set some years after the main events, suggests that Miranda has found peace and Cocoa has gained greater maturity. Additionally, the family's history of sorrow and absent men has been confronted by Miranda and, unwittingly, by Cocoa and her late husband George. The rest of the novel will explore how this transformation came to be.

In the novel's early chapters, subtle hints suggest unexplained events and beliefs that blur the lines between magic, coincidence, and superstition. The legacy of Sapphira Wade's "witchcraft" endures not only in Miranda's healing abilities but also in the islander Dr. Buzzard's reputation as a "hoodoo" doctor and the neighbor Ruby's command of black magic. Dr. Buzzard's notoriety is largely built on his boasting and the moonshine he provides, whereas the abilities of others remain more ambiguous.

Miranda's wisdom and healing knowledge become apparent early on when she responds to an emergency call from her neighbor Bernice. Desperate to conceive, Bernice has ingested fertility pills stolen from the clinic where she works. Despite not having a medical degree, Miranda is clearly experienced, examining Bernice with authority and offering a natural remedy for her pain. Recognizing Bernice's desperation, Miranda reluctantly agrees to help her conceive. Following a mysterious ritual at "the other place," Miranda's ancestral home, Bernice becomes pregnant. Miranda is troubled by her involvement, questioning if God will "forgive her for Bernice … But she wasn't changing the natural course of nothing, she couldn't if she tried. Just using what's there." Miranda views her abilities not as magic but as a profound understanding of the natural world.

In stark contrast to the mystical realm of Willow Springs is the fast-paced, sophisticated environment of New York City, where Cocoa has resided for seven years. Cocoa still feels like an outsider, a sentiment intensified by her recent unemployment, making her especially vulnerable and defensive. Although she is more worldly than her counterparts in Willow Springs, her sheltered upbringing is evident in her mistrust of others and her tendency to stereotype. Additionally, unemployment has heightened her awareness of the subtle racism around her. Cocoa's values clash with the individualistic culture of New York, particularly after she interviews with George for a job but withdraws from consideration upon learning the position would prevent her from making her customary August visit home.

Cocoa and George initially seem to have very little in common; their personalities represent basic extremes of gender differences in self-expression and communication styles. George is reserved, fixated on football, and often reticent about his emotions, fearing that Cocoa might "despise" his vulnerability. This leads him to realize at one point, "I was losing you because of my fear of losing you." Unlike George, who withdraws into silence, Cocoa frequently expresses her emotions indirectly, picking fights over seemingly insignificant issues. Frustrated, George remarks that "when living with a woman the shortest distance between two points is by way of China." Despite their vastly different backgrounds, both are fatherless and fear losing control, and crucially, they complement each other with the traits they individually lack. Additionally, George, whose mother was a prostitute and who grew up in a boys' home, is captivated by Cocoa's strong connection to her heritage. He envies her for being "born in a grandmother's house" and for having the ability "to walk and see where a great-grandfather and even a great-great-grandfather was born."

Despite this, their relationship seems improbable, starting hesitantly when Miranda urges Cocoa to write a letter to George, asking him to keep his job. George discovers gold powder in the envelope, presumably added by Miranda. Later, a fortune cookie seems significant: not only does it remind George of the powder as it crumbles, but his fortune reads, "All chickens come home to roost"—a prediction that will later prove true. Their contentious relationship deepens when George decides to show Cocoa the "real New York." George shares his background with Cocoa and envies her sense of continuity. When they marry, Miranda creates a quilt "for Cocoa's grandchildren to be conceived under."

After Cocoa's marriage, Miranda feels an increasing urgency to unveil the family's history that continues to haunt them. Miranda ponders family mysteries as well—such as what exactly transpired between Sapphira and Bascombe Wade, and how many of Sapphira's seven sons were actually his.

Four years into their marriage, George skips his yearly January Super Bowl vacation to instead take off August and join Cocoa on her annual visit to Willow Springs. George naively views Willow Springs as a paradise, romanticizing farm life to the extent that he begins to consider staying there permanently. Unaware of how he disrupts Willow Springs' customs and social codes, he cannot hear the "whispers" in the family graveyard predicting that Cocoa will break his heart, nor does he feel comfortable during a poker game with the local men, where enjoying the community ritual and respecting Dr. Buzzard is more important than winning.

Miranda is acutely conscious of the quiet predictions surrounding George. Troubled by an overwhelming sense of impending death, she also grapples with the distressing notion that her magic is misunderstood. When Bernice's cherished child passes away, she brings the child's body to Miranda. Miranda is deeply saddened that anyone believes she has the ability to resurrect the dead. She fears that in meddling with the lives of others, she may have crossed ethical boundaries. Her magical gift is a double-edged sword, bringing both joy and sorrow, especially as she struggles with her forebodings.

During an argument that seems to be about Cocoa's make-up but is actually laden with gender and cultural tensions, Cocoa and George set the stage for future disaster. Later that evening at a party, Cocoa, still not speaking to George, sits on the porch with Junior Lee. His jealous wife, Ruby, sees them together.

Ruby Lee's magic is dark, fueled by jealousy and anger. Having taken Junior Lee from another woman, Ruby becomes so possessive that it is rumored any woman he talks to meets a dreadful fate. When Ruby offers to braid Cocoa's hair the day after the party, Cocoa doesn't find it unusual; it’s a familiar ritual from her childhood. Unbeknownst to Cocoa, Ruby uses nightshade and keeps strands of her hair, seemingly for a spell. Cocoa falls ill with a mysterious virus, leaving her pale, with glassy eyes, hallucinations, and an inability to recognize George. The severity of her condition prompts Abigail, Cocoa's grandmother, to visit the other place for the first time in over fifty years to find Miranda, who is staying there.

Drawing on the ancient wisdom of the other place, Mama Day says of Cocoa, "it's gonna take a man to bring her peace—and all they had was that boy." Recognizing Ruby's role in Cocoa's illness, Miranda and Abigail agree that while hate is powerful and destructive, they must rely on a greater force—a power that can be seen as love or interpreted as faith in a higher being.

Miranda's fury towards Ruby compels her to cast what appears to be a spell on Ruby's house. It seems more than a coincidence when lightning strikes the house twice shortly after, destroying it and leaving Ruby severely burned. The storm also washes away the bridge to the mainland and is so intense that Miranda checks the roof of another property. There, she discovers a ledger hidden by her father. Confronting her past instead of ignoring it, Miranda Day pries open the well where the first Peace died. Upon examining the ledger, Miranda realizes that while the women in her family have always been strong, many of their male ancestors also valued intuition and faith alongside logic and rationality. The ledger reveals a liberating truth about Sapphira: "He had freed em, all but her, cause see, she'd never been a slave. And what she gave of her own will, she took away." Hence, Sapphira's legacy is one of autonomy and the freedom to choose whom she loved.

George bears the responsibility of stepping into his familial role. As Cocoa is dying, she tells George to go to the other place, but he resists. He believes that self-confidence is sufficient, but Dr. Buzzard explains that truly believing in oneself means "he ain't gotta be afraid to admit that there's some things he just can't do alone." Nonetheless, George's role in saving Cocoa is crucial; Miranda can only remain at the other place and "reach back to the beginning for us to find the chains to pull [Cocoa] out of this here trouble."

Miranda instructs George to take John Paul's walking stick and Bascombe Wade's ledger, search the hen's nest, and return with what he finds—directions so seemingly nonsensical that George agrees to follow them out of sheer desperation. By accepting the cane and ledger, symbolically taking on the legacy of past generations of men, George, who fears chickens, reluctantly approaches the hen's nest. Despite Miranda's warnings that the "hen is gonna be evil so watch out for your eyes," George becomes so enraged when the hen attacks him and so frustrated by the illogical ritual that he strikes the hen with the walking stick. This exertion triggers a heart attack, resulting in his death.

Through the enigmatic magic passed down through the generations, George manages to save Cocoa but leaves her and Miranda deeply saddened by his inability to save himself as well. Nevertheless, George becomes part of the family legend; his legacy endures as Cocoa remarries, names one of her children after George, moves to Charleston to be closer to her roots, and returns home each year, maintaining a connection with George's spirit.

Although critics have drawn parallels between Naylor's work and that of Ann Petry, James Baldwin, and Toni Morrison for its lyrical and often experimental depiction of African-American characters and cultures, the most evident literary influence is Shakespeare's Tempest. This play revolves around exiles on a deserted island, incorporates magical elements, and questions the true nature of "civilization." By retelling the story from a black woman's perspective, Naylor honors Shakespeare while emphasizing the contrasts between white European culture and the descendants of African slaves. Miranda shares her name with Shakespeare's innocent young heroine, whose main role is to be part of the play's love story. In Naylor's version, however, Miranda embodies the resistance to oppression and slavery that Shakespeare's Caliban represents. Naylor's most groundbreaking change is transforming Miranda into a powerful Prospero-like figure; she rules her island and, like Prospero, casts spells. However, Miranda relies much more on her intuition, wisdom, and faith. Prospero's magical book and staff are mirrored by Miranda's walking stick and the ledger she discovers. Naylor gently mocks the white male literary tradition represented by Shakespeare when Cocoa remarks, "Shakespeare didn't have a bit of soul—I don't care if he did write about … some slave on a Caribbean island."

Mama Day's characters occasionally mention Bailey's Cafe and Linden Hills, which are titles of Naylor's previous works. This is the only explicit link between these stories. However, across her writing, Naylor consistently critiques social systems that hinder the progress of African Americans and explores feminist themes.

Mama Day was recorded as an audiobook in 1989 by Brilliance.

Naylor has crafted a screenplay for the film adaptation of Mama Day, which is set to be produced by her company, One Way Productions, Inc. However, the film has not been made yet.

Sources
Brown, Rita Mae. Review in Gloria Naylor: Critical Perspectives Past and Present, edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and K. A. Appiah. Amistad, 1993, pp. 13-15.

Erickson, Peter. "'Shakespeare's Black?': The Role of Shakespeare in Naylor's Novels," in Gloria Naylor: Critical Perspectives Past and Present, edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and K. A. Appiah. Amistad, 1993, pp. 231-48.

Gloch, Allison. "A Woman to Be Reckoned With," in Special Report, January-February, 1993, pp. 22-25.

Hass, Rachel. Review in Gloria Naylor: Critical Perspectives Past and Present, edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and K. A. Appiah. Amistad, 1993, pp. 22-23.

Hayes, Elizabeth T. "Gloria Naylor's Mama Day as Magic Realism," in The Critical Response to Gloria Naylor, edited by Sharon Felton and Michelle C. Loris. Greenwood Press, 1997, pp. 177-86.

Kelley, Margot Anne. "Sister's Choices: Quilting Aesthetics in Contemporary African-American Women's Fiction," in Quilt Culture: Tracing the Pattern, edited by Cheryl B. Torsney and Judy Elsley. University of Missouri Press, 1994, pp. 49-67.

Kubitschek, Missy Dehn. "Toward a New Order: Shakespeare, Morrison, and Gloria Naylor's Mama Day," in Melus, Vol. 19, No. 3, Fall, 1994, pp. 75-90.

Levy, Helen Fiddyment. "Lead on with Light," in Gloria Naylor: Critical Perspectives Past and Present, edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and K. A. Appiah. Amistad, 1993, pp. 263-84.

Loris, Michelle C. Interview: "The Human Spirit Is a Kick-Ass Thing," in The Critical Response to Gloria Naylor, edited by Sharon Felton and Michelle C. Loris. Greenwood Press, 1997, pp. 251-63.

Meisenhelder, Susan. "'The Whole Picture' in Gloria Naylor's Mama Day," in African-American Review, Vol. 27, No. 3, 1993, pp. 405-19.

Mukherjee, Bharati. Review in Gloria Naylor: Critical Perspectives Past and Present, edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and K. A. Appiah. Amistad, 1993, pp. 19-21.

Naylor, Gloria, and Toni Morrison. "A Conversation," in Southern Review, Vol. 21, Summer, 1983, pp. 567-93.

Simon, Linda. Review in Gloria Naylor: Critical Perspectives Past and Present, edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and K. A. Appiah. Amistad, 1993, pp. 15-18.

Tucker, Lindsey. "Recovering the Conjure Woman: Texts and Contexts in Gloria Naylor's Mama Day," in African-American Review, Vol. 28, No. 2, 1994, pp. 173-88.

For Further Study
Edwards, Tamala. "A Conversation with Gloria Naylor," in Essence, June, 1998, p. 70. Edwards interviews Naylor about the release of her latest book, The Men of Brewster Place.

Felton, Sharon, and Michelle C. Loris, eds. The Critical Response to Gloria Naylor. Greenwood Press, 1997. This compilation of articles on Naylor's work offers a useful overview of the criticism on Mama Day, discussing themes like the quilting motif, the role of the conjure woman, the reinterpretation of The Tempest, and the use of magical realism. An interview with Naylor is also featured.

Fowler, Virginia C. Gloria Naylor: In Search of Sanctuary. Twayne, 1996. Fowler's book includes a biography of Naylor and an analysis of her novels up to Bailey's Cafe. It also contains an interview with Naylor.

Gates, Henry Louis, Jr., and K. A. Appiah, eds. Gloria Naylor: Critical Perspectives Past and Present. Amistad, 1993. This book features numerous early reviews of Mama Day and includes critiques of Naylor's other works.

Mandulo, Rhea. "Georgia on My Mind," in Essence, March, 1993, p. 144. Describes the author's journey to the Sea Islands of Georgia, inspired in part by the fictional island of Willow Springs in Mama Day.

Odamtten, Vincent. "Reviewing Gloria Naylor: Toward a Neo-African Critique," in Of Dreams Deferred, Dead or Alive: African Perspectives on African-American Writers, edited by Femi Ojo-Ade. Greenwood Press, 1996, pp. 115-29. Interprets Naylor's work as an expression of African concepts regarding religion, family, and culture.

Perry, Donna. Interview in Backtalk: Women Writers Speak Out. Rutgers University Press, 1993, pp. 218-42. In this interview, Perry examines Naylor's connections with other female authors and questions her about her first four novels.

Peterson, V. R. Review in People Weekly, April 18, 1988, p. 9. A generally positive review that commends Naylor's writing style while offering criticism of her character development.

Rowell, Charles. "An Interview with Gloria Naylor," in Callaloo, Winter, 1997, pp. 179-92. This interview primarily delves into Naylor's journey to becoming a writer and her thoughts on literature.