I have plans to put together a list in December of my favourite reads from the year. The Help just skyrocketed up that list.
It is every bit as moving, poignant, humorous, and hopeful as promised... maybe even more so.
Now, I don't have a lot of first-hand experience with the issues being dealt with in the novel. Obviously I've never been a white lady in the 1960s, dealing with segregation. Add to that, I don't have any experience being on any end of racism in any era. I've never had a maid or "help" to look after me... Growing up my mother always made it quite clear that she was "not my maid." And yet, despite what would seem to make me completely disconnected from the events in the novel, I spent every page feeling all kinds of connections and emotions for all of the characters: white, black, young, old, men, and women... But mostly the women.