An oxymoron marks Ness’s nights with Sam in Part 1 as they try to find love and recover from their injuries at the same time. Bleeding and scabby, they run their hands across each other in a scene that feels less like romance than the aftermath of a murder:
He runs his hands along her scabby back, and she does the same along his, and as they work together, clutching each other, some scars reopen. They are both bleeding now, both bride and bridegroom, in this unholy holy union. Breath leaves his mouth and enters hers, and they lie together until the roosters crow, until it’s time to return to the fields.
Homegoing turns towards its clever wordplay to capture slavery’s cruel perversity. In what seems almost like a contradiction in terms, “unholy holy union” pairs the sublime with the debased, the pure with the horrific. Ness and Sam have suffered so much abuse that even the “holy union” becomes “unholy” with what trickles from their reopening scars. Blood accompanies Ness on the fields, and it follows her straight to the marital bed. Nothing and nowhere is free from slavery’s violence, and this riddle-like phrase stands as ghastly testament to slavery’s all-corrupting, inescapable force.