NONFICTION - April 3, 1994

PARALLEL TIME: Growing Up in Black and White by Brent Staples (Pantheon: $23; 288 pp.) “My brother’s body lies dead and naked on a stainless steel slab. At his head stands an arched spigot that, with tap handles mimicking wings, easily suggest a swan in mourning.” So begins Brent Staples’ autobiography, “Parallel Time.” It’s a strange book, oddly withheld in spite of all of Staples anger, so that there’s a constant sense of him watching his own life, watching himself write it down and even watching you read it.

And who can blame him? The oldest son among nine children, Staples father was a taciturn, abusive alcoholic and his mother too overworked for anything including self-esteem. A scholarship to a local college becomes Staples’ ticket out, and though, for many years he turns his face away from his family, they are still in his heart, causing pain. In addition to family, this is also a book about race. Staples, who is black, does much of his best work when he writes about trying to enter a predominantly white world. Here is a recounting of a job interview: “He wanted to knew if I was a Faux, Chevy Chase, Maryland Negro or an authentic . . . who grew up poor in the ghetto. . . . My inquisitor was asking me to explain my existence. Why was I successful, law abiding and literate, when others of my kind filled the jails and the morgues and the homeless shelters? A question that asks a lifetime of questions has no easy answer. The only honest answer is life itself.”