[In the following review, Walker finds shortcomings in Disappearing Acts.]

The book was a smooth read; it had an easy flow. But, I think more likely, expectation kept me reading because Terry McMillan's new book promised great things. Disappearing Acts alternates between first-person reflections, reactions and responses of Franklin and Zora.

Franklin introduces himself, "I'm tired of women. Black women in particular, cause that's about all I ever deal with." He continued to fill us in on his way in the world: "Basically, I guess I'm a loner. Ain't got too many friends, ain't too many people worth trusting. Jimmy, a dude I grew up with, stops by every now and then to borrow a few dollars."

Okay, I have a sense of his honesty and the scope of his relationships as he perceives them. He offers his view and his experiences within the male-female sexual dynamic. I learn about his two children and estranged wife. He offers introspection, "I do know I can be a pain in the ass, but that's my nature. I just like to test people, see what they're made of … I got discharged from the Navy because of my temper, lack of cooperation." He continues, "But how can taking orders from the white man, killing people that ain't never done nothing to me personally do me some fuckin' good?"

Okay, I'm involved. What is the author going to do with this man, self-described as big and Black? What is his relationship to Zora, who introduces herself with "I've got two weaknesses: tall Black men and food. But not necessarily in that order," going to look like? I accept these two people for who they say they are; I expect Terry McMillan to provide the depth, to go beyond what I can see watching people on the street or catching bits and pieces of lives in my hallway. I want a view of the internal process and transitions if I'm to believe them. I already have my thinking on why they act as they do; I want to know Franklin, know Zora.

Unfortunately, Disappearing Acts doesn't deliver. McMillan creates a relationship between a Black man and a Black woman that she wants to be honest and successful, as in possibly happily-ever-after. Her desire is so strong that it interferes with the life of the characters, because she does not provide them with dimension. Bright, brash, clever language; fiery, loud, loving interactions, nakedness, good cliche, sparks of truth glowing. But their lives read like exchange on the Oprah Winfrey show—condensed, directed, framed, the ultimate dictator being the commercial.

Racism affects Franklin at his jobs, in his ability to get/maintain consistent employment, in the fact that he can't hail a taxi. Racial oppression in Disappearing Acts is real, but not developed beyond background cliche. Gender oppression while loudly present is not acknowledged at a level that would allow for a straight-on look. I understand that Franklin feels bad and is treated badly, but what does this really have to do with him not picking up his son from the sitter and why can't he and Zora have this discussion? It has to occur between Franklin and himself, Zora and herself, or between them if the changes are to be accepted as genuine.

Zora is waiting, in part, for Franklin to change. For all her dynamic Black woman rap she is quite passive, which makes believable her acceptance of what appears to me to be more of the same from Franklin. But I don't know for sure.

What are Franklin and Zora's nuances? What is their content as well as their context? In the end I know facts about them, but I still don't know them.