Library Journal
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The voice of a Spirit not yet born into the world but with a few things to teach us about life, hope, and love narrates Cooper's fourth novel (after The Wake of the Wind). In this combination of novel and fable, the author notes that she envisioned a locale named Dream Street with a row of houses that held histories within their walls. Eula, a gentle yet courageous black woman, leads the reader to these houses and to a diverse group of residents whose lives intertwine under Eula's guidance. The first half is somewhat arduous in its detail of the long path that brings Eula to Dream Street. Once she arrives, however, the pace quickens. Using the recurring voice of the Spirit, Cooper seems to weave in her own beliefs as well as her hopes for a kinder, more universal spirituality. Cooper could well be called "The Grandma Moses of American Letters" in that her relatively simple, unvarnished style has a unique and captivating charm that clearly comes from the heart. Recommended for all fiction collections. Susanne Wells, P.L. of Cincinnati & Hamilton Cty. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Kirkus
Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

A third novel from playwright and storywriter Cooper (The Future Has a Past, 2000, etc.) follows five generations of African-Americans from the Deep South of the Civil War to a Chicago suburb in the 20th century. You get a feel for the outline of the story here early on, when the narrator tells you that her tale is about the good people who live in a neighborhood called Dream Street in a town called Place. The narrator herself speaks in a tone that falls somewhere between Diogenes and Ecclesiastes, relating the vanities of those who manage to make their way in the world and the travails of those who don't. Among the latter are some of the descendants of an ex-slave named Eula, who, in the late 19th century, manages to leave the South and make her way north to Oklahoma. Her children work as sharecroppers at first, and their children move farther north with each generation until they reach Illinois. In the lean years of the Depression, Eula's granddaughter, Eula Too, sets out for Chicago, but she's raped, beaten, and left for dead along the way. She's rescued by a high-class bawd named Madame LaFon and given a job and a place to live in Madame's Chicago brothel. Madame grows to love Eula Too and provides her with a good education. Madame grew up in the woebegone little town of Place, in a dreary little house on Dream Street. Her dying mother lives there still, and Madame looks after her with Eula Too's help. There are all kinds of people living on Dream Street, including the Chinese immigrant Ha and the Jewish refugee Maureen Iris, both of whom (like Eula Too) had to struggle against great odds to get there. Stilted prose combines with creaky allegory in a very odd family saga—a mix, perhaps, of Mister Rogers, Roots, and The Good Earth. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Publishers Weekly
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An unborn child narrates Cooper's earthy fourth novel, which, through a minute exploration of the lives and loves of the residents of Dream Street in the town of Place, aims to unveil the vastness of human experience. At the heart of the novel is the narrator's future mother, Eula Too. Born to a poor African-American family in a small town outside of Chicago, Eula Too spent her early years caring for her numerous younger siblings, finding time to sneak away for lessons with a beloved teacher and letting an impotent chauffeur touch her for spending money. When she eventually flees home, hoping for a better life in Depression-era Chicago, she is raped and abandoned, only to be discovered by the rich owner of a high-class brothel. Madame LaFon takes Eula Too in, not as a future prostitute but as a friend. The years pass and Eula Too, now a loving, moral young woman, accompanies Madame to her hometown of Place, where she endeavors to turn the neighborhood into a haven of love and goodwill. A certain didacticism-about politics, rich-poor relations and the importance of morality-gives the tale added depth, if also a kind of heavy-handedness. Cooper's (The Wake of the Wind) simple, plain writing and unequivocal regard for all people stand out in a novel scattered in narrative but united in its humanity. Agent, Anna Ghosh. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Book list
From Booklist, Copyright © American Library Association. Used with permission.

I have not been born . . . yet, Cooper begins her intriguing novel, which features a not-yet-born narrator following the life of her chosen family. The not yet born have some freedom to choose their families and possess knowledge of life and people that they gradually lose after birth. The narrator provides running commentary on world events, human frailty, and the life of her poor black descendants as they move from sharecropping in the rural South to Chicago and finally a small town called Place, under much improved circumstances. Eula Too, the narrator's mother-to-be, survives grinding poverty and rape at a tender age to find refuge as a companion to a wealthy white woman operating a high-class brothel. Madame and Eula Too develop a binding friendship that serves as the nexus for examining friendships and family relationships across generations, race and ethnicity, and class against the backdrop of the Depression, the world wars, and the civil rights movement. Cooper's universal sensibilities and strong character development are on full display in this provocative novel. --Vanessa Bush Copyright 2004 Booklist