This year has seen a bonanza of worthy books, covering
various genres. But while best-book lists in many newspapers have focused on
fiction, we’d also like to highlight some of the critical work produced by
scholars in 2014. Here we select a short list of books that we hope will be
widely read in the coming months. We’ve found them to be incisive, superbly written,
and extremely thought-provoking.
From Uncle Tom’s Cabin to The Help: Critical
Perspectives on White-Authored Narratives of Black Life, ed. by C. Oberon Garcia, V. Ashanti Young and C. Pimentel
This collection of essays is a timely examination of “racial
ventriloquism” in the United States - that is “when white authors appropriate the
history and stories of black life”.
Edited by Claire Oberon Garcia, Vershawn
Ashanti Young, and Charlise Pimentel, the book looks at how “white-authored
narratives are consistently used to structure perceptions of American race
relations”, infiltrating our consciousness and perpetuating the current hegemonic
power.
The editors state that despite the success of
contemporary American writers such as Toni Morrison, “the most influential and
widely disseminated narratives of black life are created by white people
through the institutions and discourses dominated by white money,
decision-making, and interests”.
Focusing particularly on Kathryn Stockett’s novel The
Help, and the film it spawned, the book discusses the critical controversies
around these works and investigates the divided opinions about them in the
Black community itself: from Oprah Winfrey’s embracing of the story to writer
Touré’s slamming the film as “the most loathsome movie” in America.
“The Help
links us to questions that are not only literary or cinematic but also deeply
social and political,” say Oberon and colleagues. Among these questions is: why
does Hollywood constantly reward black actors and actresses “for playing
subservient, violent, or hypersexual roles often created by whites”?
With the current racial crisis playing out in the
United States, following the high-profile killings by police of African-American
men and youngsters, these issues are more pertinent than ever. As the editors
assert, “stories … create our realities”, and if we don’t question and
challenge the sources of these stories, we’re doing ourselves a disservice.
 |
| Claire Oberon Garcia |
The editors realize that some people will disagree
with their views and pose the question: “doesn’t every artist, writer,
producer, or director have the right to tell stories as he or she sees fit?”
The answer to that would be “yes”, of course, in a world where equality is the
norm.
But sympathy and empathy are not the same as painful experience, and
“racial ventriloquism” may be fundamentally doing more harm than good. Anyone
who has doubts about this can skip directly to Chapter 4: “Taking Care a White
Babies, That’s What I Do – The Help and Americans’ Obsession with the Mammy”, written
by Katrina Dyonne Thompson.
Thompson was a doctoral student, sitting frequently in
a café “armed with stacks of books” and her laptop, when one day “an older
white gentleman” approached her and asked, “Are you here to interview for a
nanny job?” As she says, she felt “the burden of hundreds of years of
stereotypes in this one exchange”. Thompson’s essay goes on to illustrate how
Stockett’s novel feeds these stereotypes. Like the other essays in the book, it
may make some readers reconsider their take on the whole “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”
genre.
But the editors aren’t necessarily recommending that
these narratives not be written or read; what they are calling for is context. “Racial
ventriloquism” should be given its appropriate framework, and should be taught alongside
books by African American writers, in a comparative and critical space. The
message here is that white-authored stories should not provide the prevailing and
accepted view of black lives.
The Grenada Revolution in the Caribbean Present: Operation
Urgent Memory
Shalini Puri’s elegantly written book comes 31 years
after the United States’ invasion of Grenada and is the first scholarly work
from the humanities on the subject of both the Grenada Revolution and the US “intervention”,
according to the publishers. The author herself describes the book as “simultaneously
a critique, tribute, and memorial”, and it fills all those roles in excellent
fashion.
Puri, Associate Professor of English at the University
of Pittsburgh in the United States, argues that the 1979-1983 revolution was a
transnational event that had a great impact on the politics and culture across
the Caribbean and on the region’s Diaspora, both during its short span and in
the three decades since its fall. Her research includes interviews, landscape
studies, literature, visual art, music, film, and newspaper accounts to give a gripping
description and analysis of the revolution and its effects.
Her main premise is that the region has been
participating in a kind of collective silence about the revolution, hence her
subtitle “Operation Urgent Memory”, a play on the name of the American
offensive - Operation Urgent Fury. “The degree to which Grenadian memories are
silenced is especially striking in comparison to the loudness of pro-US
narratives,” she writes, adding that on the Internet, “data on the US invasion,
which lasted barely a week, far outweigh those on the Grenada Revolution, which
lasted four and a half years”.
Puri makes it clear from the outset that this is not a
history book, but a “meditation on memory, on its frailty and its survival, on
the unexpected sites and manner of its surfacing”. As such, the book can be
considered a literary work, fused with criticism and journalism. It even has
photographs – some snapped by Puri and others taken from archives or provided
by Grenadian sources.
 |
| Shalini Puri |
Readers will gain new insights into the momentous
events on the Caribbean island, from the overthrow of Prime Minister Eric Gairy
in 1979 to the invasion by the United States in 1983. Puri delves into the charismatic
personalities of revolutionary leaders such as Maurice Bishop and Bernard Coard
and recounts the tragedy of Bishop’s execution in October 1983, before the age of
40. She provides compelling answers to the question of: what is the
significance of a revolution on a tiny island measuring 310 square kilometres,
smaller than many US cities?
As she points out, the Grenada Revolution was the
“first socialist-oriented revolution in the Anglophone Caribbean; the assassination
of Maurice Bishop was the first assassination of a head of state in the
Anglophone Caribbean; it was the first time the United States invaded the
Anglophone Caribbean.” Even now, the events still generate political debate in
the region and there is disagreement about the revolution’s legacy.
Puri also examines the long-held silence of some of
the participants, including noted writers, but what is most striking about the
book is the compassionate tone throughout. It’s as if the author is herself moved
by the story she is telling, and touched by the cast of unforgettable
characters.
Stylistic Approaches to Nigerian Fiction, by Daria Tunca
One doesn’t have to know anything about the field of
“stylistics” (analysing and interpreting texts through an examination of
language) to appreciate Daria Tunca’s enlightening work on Nigerian literature.
The Belgium-based researcher, who teaches in the English Department of the
University of Liège, asserts that the “analysis of style in Nigerian fiction
needs to be broadened to account for the range of linguistic techniques
deployed by contemporary writers”.
In a clear and engaging manner, Tunca addresses issues
such as the links between style and characterization and between aesthetics and
ideology. She also casts light on the use of language and folklore in selected
texts but goes beyond studies of the writers’ mother tongues to explore form
and content.
In all of this, the figure that looms large is that of
Chinua Achebe, the late “grandfather” of “African” literature. “Ultimately,
beyond all criteria of differentiation, second- and third-generation writers
have at least one major thing in common: everyone, from Nigerian academics to
American radio hosts, obsessively compares them to their illustrious
compatriot, Chinua Achebe,” Tunca writes.
Achebe played a defining role in the
debate on language, and Tunca’s book addresses his influence and that of others
including Wole Soyinka and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o. Among the issues: to choose or
not to choose English as the means of expression?
For those who are fans of the current generation of
celebrated Nigerian writers - Chris Abani and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, among
others - this books provides accompaniment to the reading of their work. One
will learn the names for an array of concepts and techniques used by these
authors, such as “underlexicalization”: which is “withholding the usual term
for something that is being described”.
Tunca says that every magician (or writer) has a
trick. To discover it, “onlookers must not simply allow themselves to be
dazzled, but rather observe and analyse – meticulously, systematically, and
with appropriate technique. This is the aim of stylistics.” Of course, one can
choose to be dazzled without any deeper observation, but then one would miss out
on stimulating books such as Tunca’s.
(The three books above were published by Palgrave
Macmillan.)
FICTION – THE SHORT AND LONG OF IT
It’s sometimes difficult to cut through the hype
surrounding works of fiction, especially with everyone and his grandma now
using social media to push their publications. The promotional screams can be deafening, but every now and then, amid the noise, the sweet calls of beguiling
stories break through. That may sound a bit over the top, but it reflects the thrill of discovering truly memorable books, two of which are described
below.
Love It When You Come, Hate It When You Go, by Sharon Leach
Sharon’s Leach’s stories are mesmerising,
to put it in one word. The range of characters created by this Jamaican author
and journalist stays in one’s head after one has finished the book, with bits
of conversation or description recurring. From a particularly poignant story,
“Lapdance”, comes this, for instance: “I’m here because I love lapdances.
They’re my poison. Chillin’ in the champagne room, son. I figure people would
say I’m addicted to them. That’s a hell of a thing to get addicted to.”
Leach’s protagonists are “people struggling for their
place in the world, always anxious that their hold on security is precarious,”
according to the blurb, but they’re more than that. They’re the products of an
inventive imagination that gets to the soul of things, without sentimentality
or judgment. They’re people with secrets, with heavy pasts and, in some cases,
without a future.
Underpinning the skilful, fast-paced writing is a sly sense
of humour, as Leach highlights the absurdities of various sexual situations.
Whether readers are meant to take at face value certain improbable acts is a
question that will linger, but this doesn’t necessarily detract from the
strength of the collection. It makes it somehow more unforgettable. (Peepal Tree Press)
Ryad Assani-Razaki and La main d’Iman (The Imam’s
Hand)
 |
| Ryad Assani-Razaki (photo by A. McKenzie) |
Published in Canada in 2011, and in France a year later, La main d’Iman is a story of people caught up in a web of inequality in an African country, where the main characters include children sold by their parents into domestic servitude.
The book is told from several points of view, and
pulls one in from the first few lines because of the beauty and sophistication
of the writing. The author’s particular talent is in describing the unspeakable,
not in crude terms, but in poetic prose - much like Toni Morrison, whom he
cites as an influence.
We spoke with Assani-Razaki this year in Paris, when
he attended the biennial Festival America literary event. We wanted to know more
about this talented writer, who was born in Benin in 1981 and currently resides in Montreal,
Canada, after studying in the United States.
SWAN: What was the inspiration for La main d'Iman?
A-R: Following a long period away from my home
country, I eventually returned to Benin when I could afford the trip. Upon my
arrival, one of my most puzzling impressions was the feeling people gave me
that they all wanted to depart. At every level of society, the eagerness seemed
the same. The question of why it was so important for people to leave was my
inspiration. Some people are ready to go to the furthest extremes, to achieve
that goal, even risking their lives. That was puzzling to me.
SWAN: Who are your influences?
A-R: My influences are multiple. Having been educated
in two languages, my influences are both French and English. But in any case, I
always favor authors and works that focus on character development. My French
influences would be such as Annie Ernaux for her treatment of language,
Nathalie Sarraute for her thinking. The English-speaking writers that most
influenced me are Toni Morrison for her courage to tackle the most disturbing
themes, Jumpha Lahiri for the beauty of her words. I have also read Anchee Min,
hanan al-shaykh, V.S. Naipaul. I like to travel with literature
SWAN: Do you think that francophone writers from
Africa get the same attention as their English-speaking counterparts?
A-R: I think francophone writers from Africa get a lot
of attention in the Francophone community. However, to cross over to the
English-speaking word with translations is a bit of a challenge.
SWAN: Do you also write in English?
A-R: I do write in English.
SWAN: As someone who left his home country, is
identity an issue as a writer?
A-R: I think identity is the central issue for every human
being on the planet, whether they are writers or not, and even for those who
haven't travelled. We spend our lives, constantly redefining ourselves. Which is
why a book such as La main d'Iman that deals with the theme of improving one’s
condition as a human being can resonate with anybody, regardless of their life
experiences.
La Main d'Iman won the Prix Robert-Cliche, a Canadian award for first novels.
