57 pages • 1 hour read
Cynthia BondA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Ruby is set in a Texas that still harbors segregation and racial violence from its past as a state of enslaved peoples. All the Black residents of Liberty Township experience the consequences of historical and present racism, but the novel’s Black female characters are subjected to the additional dimension of misogynoir. Misogynoir refers to the intersection of racism and sexism experienced by Black women. Ruby’s experiences are heavily informed by the misogynoir she encounters everywhere she goes, even in her own community.
One of the hallmarks of misogynoir is the dehumanization of Black women. In Ruby, this dynamic allows abusers to exploit Black women and girls without guilt. When Ruby arrives at the Friends’ Club, Miss Barbara quickly indoctrinates her with the idea that white girls are good girls while “Negro girls [start] bad” (141). Ruby’s and Tanny’s johns inflict worse violence on them than they would on white girls, culminating in Tanny’s brutal murder. Ruby also hears relentless vitriol from her clients, who refer to her using derogatory terms for women and sex workers, as well as racist slurs.
The abusers’ language shifts the blame for their crimes onto Ruby and implies that by simply existing as a Black girl, she is the instigator of her own abuse. After Tanny’s murder, Miss Barbara tells Ruby that Peter Green “done bought her fair and square” (238) and was therefore within his rights to kill her. Black girls’ bodies and lives are treated as disposable commodities for the pleasure of men.
This twisted dynamic encouraged by Miss Barbara draws on the jezebel stereotype, a racist belief that Black women are hypersexual to the point of always desiring sex. During slavery in the United States, enslavers relied on this stereotype of hyper-sexuality to justify raping enslaved women—for a time, Black women could legally not be classified as rape victims due to this stereotype. The repercussions of this stereotype are evident in the way Ruby’s abusers paint her six-year-old self as a seductress and frame her rape as a natural consequence of her existence.
Harmful stereotypes about Black women are rooted in white supremacy, but Bond highlights how they can be weaponized by both men and women of all ethnicities. The story of the rape and murder of Neva Bell by the Klan is told as a cautionary tale around Liberty, with the town’s men agreeing that her fate was a tragedy. Yet men of all ethnicities abuse Ruby at the brothel, and around the pit fire she is systemically assaulted by the Black men of her community. The reverend blames women for the existence of white men and frames the sexual “training” of young Black girls as a way of taking back their power. He weaponizes the existence of white-on-Black racism against Black women, turning it into a justification for gendered violence.
Celia is an example of a Black woman who has internalized misogynoir. Celia thinks of Neva Bell as “harlot” who “fornicated with a White man and got herself shot” (116), rather than a teenage victim of grooming, gang rape, and murder. This attitude dates to the moment Celia discovered Ruby’s abuse and twisted the narrative, framing six-year-old Ruby as a demonic seductress who sexually manipulated the reverend. Though young Celia’s reaction was largely motivated by the inability to see her father as an abuser, it was informed by the idea that Black women and girls invite sexual abuse just by existing. Celia’s actions as an adult deliberately feed into this idea. This prejudice extends far beyond Celia to the community at large—after her return to Liberty, Ruby’s female peers dismiss her as a “whore” and assume that the rapes inflicted on her are consensual, even though she is visibly not lucid enough to consent to sex.
Ruby internalizes misogynoir as well, coming to think of herself as a bad girl and a “n****r whore” (142). To find herself again, she must see past the negative stereotypes she has been taught about Black womanhood, as well as heal from the trauma she’s experienced because of misogynoir. With the help of Ephram, Ruby eventually manages to separate her identity from derogatory stereotypes and regain a sense of self-worth.
Liberty Township is, on the surface, a God-fearing Christian town. Residents’ social lives are largely centered on In-His-Name Holiness Church, with community picnics and elections for the clergy. As a result, religious status is used as a moral barometer, with factors like baptism and regular church attendance influencing whether residents are seen as good or bad people. Holding an esteemed position in the church grants social influence and the assumption that the holder is an exceptionally moral person. As the narrative unfolds, Bond exposes the systemic abuse facilitated by powerful members of the church and explores how viewing religion as a precondition of morality can obscure the true nature of evil.
Ruby acknowledges the importance of the church in its characters’ lives. Black people in the South have long had to fear racist attacks and endure smaller, day-to-day assaults on their dignity. The church offers a sacred place where a Black community can safely convene and celebrate. Belief in a fair God who protects the faithful and punishes evil offers a sense of control and reason in a world that might otherwise feel senselessly cruel.
Yet the idea that God punishes sinners and rewards good believers is reductive and ignores people’s ability to be duplicitous. During his time as reverend, Omar Jennings is held up by his community as an example of a good, godly man. His devotion to God is all posturing, however, as outside the church he beats his wife, leads black-magic rituals handed down from the Ku Klux Klan, and facilitates the rape and murder of children. Outside of the people who directly witness his actions at the pit fire, nobody suspects him of being anything other than a squeaky-clean husband and father. He uses his reputation and influence to swiftly silence those who would have stood up to him, including his own wife.
While abusers remain protected, the vitriol of the community falls on people who don’t practice religion the “right” way or violate the norms of polite society. Often, these are women who have been wronged by men within the clergy. Honey Polk is impregnated by a traveling reverend in an implied act of rape. Rather than supporting her daughter’s decision to leave the church, her mother, Righteous, falls back on the church belief that rape is “the nature of man” (176) and that a woman’s role is to “find forgiveness, especially for a man of God” (176). When men in the clergy abuse women, the onus is put on those women to move past it because breaking away from the church is seen as the ultimate wrongdoing. If they can’t, then they become pariahs.
To the most devoted churchgoers, outward manifestations of mental illness are viewed as possessions by evil spirits. This casts a stigma on women like Ruby and Honey. Their legitimate reactions to abuse cause them to be branded as “crazy” and cast out from society. The marginalization of women who dare to stand up to their abusers creates an environment in which predators like Reverend Jennings can flourish unchallenged. This stifling environment has dire consequences for victims; Honey dies by suicide, and Ruby also makes an attempt on her life.
As Ruby’s life begins to improve and she falls for Ephram, Celia uses her power in the church to mobilize the town against her. She tells inflated tales about Ruby being possessed by the Devil, playing up her emotions to manipulate the congregation into doing her bidding. Her motivation is selfish—caring for Ephram is the only life she’s ever known, and she doesn’t want him to move on. Under the cloak of religion, her personal vendetta becomes a matter of good and evil. Celia empowers the townsfolk to feel righteous in persecuting a woman whom they have all failed to protect since she was a child.
All in all, Liberty’s unquestioning faith in its clergy upholds archaic power structures, excusing abusive men and disregarding the trauma of their victims. Yet Bond doesn’t outright criticize the existence of a faith-based community in Liberty. In fact, she explores how the church can be a powerful site of connection, hope, and renewal. As with any other social hierarchy, however, the wrong hands can shape it into a weapon against the most vulnerable. Bond encourages using empathy, humility, and critical thinking to forming opinions on morality outside of religious lines.
Much of Ruby involves Ruby battling the trauma resulting from a lifetime of sexual abuse. The ominous Dyboù that follows her around represents her unhealed trauma. It hovers persistently at the periphery of her life, waiting for a chance to consume her entirely. Ruby is cast out by most of her community, left to fend for herself except for when members of the church show up on her doorstep in misguided attempts to save her soul. She struggles alone and terrified until she meets Ephram. Ephram shows Ruby selfless love for the first time in her life, and the connection they form helps her to begin the healing process. Her salvation ultimately comes from her own strength, combined with the patience and love of a supportive partner.
Ruby’s 11 years in Liberty are marked by physical and mental agony. She is routinely raped by the town’s men and shamed by its women. Repressed memories of violent sexual abuse haunt her, as do the Dyboù and the spirits of the ghost children. Before Ephram reenters her life, her life feels like “one building long scream” (13). She exhibits remarkable strength by overcoming her suicidal ideation and caring for the ghost children, but she lives in fight-or-flight mode, and her total isolation from Liberty’s community exacerbates her pain.
Despite Bond’s thorough exploration of trauma, the relationship between Ephram and Ruby is the heart of the novel. Ephram is the first man in Ruby’s life since Papa Bell who doesn’t try to exploit her. Where other men in Liberty focus on her physical attributes, Ephram notices her resilient personality. He shows Ruby gentle, patient love. Though she rebuffs him at first, he persists in supporting her while respecting her boundaries. Ruby is too overwhelmed by her daily struggles to clean, cook, or care for herself. Ephram assumes these basic duties and provides Ruby a clean, safe environment in which to begin her healing process. At times his kindness is painful to Ruby because it contrasts so starkly with the treatment she’s used to. Though she harbors deep self-hatred, the love Ephram shows her ensures that she can “never again pretend she [has] not felt her worth” (212).
The journey of recovering from trauma is complex. Ruby first must remember the entirety of her past, including the experiences her mind has suppressed. It’s a painful process that involves the physical agony of simulated labor and the mental agony of remembering her assaults and Tanny’s murder. Ephram helps her by gently prompting her to share her story, supporting her even after she tells him that his father was her primary abuser. His unwavering belief in her is a stark contrast to the way the rest of the town has written her off, and it sparks a small ember of hope in her worn-down spirit.
Next, Ruby must undo the web of hateful lies woven by her abusers, her community, and society at large. After a lifetime of identifying with the derogatory labels placed on her by her abusers, Ruby realizes that everything they told her was a lie that can “only control [her] if [she believes] it” (262). In her final confrontation with the Dyboù, she saves herself by remembering who she is: the people, places, and things she loves and the qualities she values in herself. These feelings of love overwhelm the hatred that binds the Dyboù to Ruby and set her free.
Though Ruby’s salvation is ultimately her own, Bond emphasizes the role of outside support. Ephram continually reassures Ruby that she is worthy of love and emphasizes her value as a person, outside of her sexuality. His sincere devotion helps Ruby regain her autonomy, confront her trauma, and move past resentment for the way she has been treated. As the novel ends, Ruby looks forward to building a happier future with Ephram.