Digging Up the Mountains: Stories By Neil Bissoondath

"He saw the earth, as from space, streams of people in continuous motion, circling the sphere in search of the next stop which, they always knew, would prove temporary in the end."

Neil Bissoondath's short story collection, Digging Up the Mountains, features the praise of his uncle, V.S. Naipaul, and Bissoondath, like Shiva Naipaul, is trapped in that wider shadow. Unlike them, Bissoondath, who choses Canada over Britain, has some commonalities with Ladoo and Selvon, but combined with a similar worldview of his uncles on colonialism and independence. Many of the short stories featured in this collection are quite short and appear to be character sketches or material with light humor, but none come close to the satirical masterpieces of his uncle's short fiction. And, excluding the detailed portrait of a confined Japanese woman, the best tales here feature Trinidad and Trinidadians in Toronto, perhaps because it's the world the young Bissoondath knew so well at the time. A touch of authenticity in the dialogue and vernacular of some of the Trinidadian characters goes so well, and he almost reaches the lofty heights of Vidia and Shiva in terms of Trinidadian social satire and post-colonial traumas. I will have to read his future Caribbean-inspired novels. 

Stories Recommended

1. "Dancing": Narrated by a lower-class black Trinidadian women, one gets a feel for the Trinidadian vernacular that I have come to love in Selvon and early Naipaul. Rich and perhaps politically incorrect take on West Indian migrants in Toronto, but makes for hilarious reading. One may find a kernel of truth in this tale, but, unfortunately, being who he is, Bissoondath seems to mock the very idea of racism or prejudice against Caribbean people in Canada. 

2. "Digging Up the Mountains": Trinidadian setting, political commentary, somewhat typical yet intriguing dark tale of the 'Global South.'

3. "The Revolutionary": Hilarious portrait of  West Indian radical. I am quite sure I strongly disagree with Bissoondath on politics and multiculturalism, but sometimes he nails it. This piece is one example. Reminiscent of Naipaul's "Guerrillas" and some of Shiva Naipaul's commentary on the colonial left.

4. "The Cage": Narrated by a Japanese woman bound by freedom and tradition. Surprisingly comes off as a fully fleshed character, and somewhat reminiscent of V.S. Naipaul's "One Out of Many," but with more plausible female characters. 

5. "Insecurity": Amusing tale on the worried self-made rich Indo-Trinidadian who finds out that financial security and flight to the north isn't quite what you think.

My Love, My Love: or The Peasant Girl

Rosa Guy's My Love, My Love: or The Peasant Girl is an interesting read compared to the Trinidadian-American's other Haiti-inspired novel. Taking the story of The Little Mermaid and its tragic ending, Guy brings the reader to the "Jewel of the Antilles" in a tale exploring Haiti's color, class, and ecological devastation. Guy purposely describes this story as a fable in the title, and that's quite clear based on her changing the characteristics of Vodou and class in Haitian society (and it's many allegedly dichotomous features: urban versus rural, black versus mulatto, humanity versus nature) to offer a disturbing but powerful statement on color, Haitian social and economic decline, and last, but certainly not least, its relevance to the rest of the black world. In some key respects, this novel also bears many commonalities with other sympathetic black writers of Haiti, actually bringing to mind the peasant characters of Roumain's masterpiece, the tortured life of Coralie in Paulette Poujol Oriol's novel, and General Sun of Alexis. As a fable with magical realism, betrayal, intense natural beauty, a touch of the exotic via 'Vaudun,' and an assertion of racial pride, Guy deserves accolades for this Haitian-inspired work. Nonetheless, by adapting a folktale to a complex society like Haiti, and focusing on a sixteen-year-old woman consumed by passion for a 'grand homme' mulatto, in a world where the two never can intersect for long, it pales in comparison to Guy's other Haiti-inspired novel, a tale that is actually far more engaged in African-American women's anti-imperialism and solidarity with Haitian plight and saw the commonalities in their experiences. Since US-based black women and their relationship with Haiti attracts less attention than US African-American males in relation to Haiti (is this part of the patriarchal tendencies of previous forms of black nationalism?), Guy stands out for me and her Comedians-inspired novel is the superior tale.

A Tribute to Coltrane (And Tyner and Jones)

A fascinating tribute to Coltrane, McCoy Tyner and Elvin Jones from David S. Ware. "African Drums" sounds eerily close to Coltrane's take of "My Favorite Things" with a hint of the drum soloing of Jones on Coltrane's "Africa." Sure, Matthew Shipp's piano accompaniment and soloing is derivative of Tyner's singular style, but sometimes you have to take an homage for what it is. Ware's time to shine is distinct enough anyway. 

The Lathe of Heaven

Bill Moyers interviews Ursula K. Le Guin about the film adaptation of her excellent (and phildickian) novel, The Lathe of Heaven. What I love about her work is it exemplifies how Le Guin and Philip K. Dick shaped each other's work, in addition to their correspondence. Indeed, I am still amazed that these two titans of SF went to the same high school and supposedly never crossed paths. Both also allude to The Beatles in powerful ways for their novels, particularly John Lennon in Dick's The Transmigration of Timothy Archer. As for the novel, it's an entertaining read on ethics, dreams, metaphysics, and even climate change, race, power, and gender. Like the old saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, as Haber's character illustrates in his twisted use of Orr's power. 

Si Yo Pudiera

The parang music of Trinidad is a tradition with which I am largely unfamiliar. But this, I love. It's reminiscent of Venezuelan music and guitar-driven music of the Hispanic Caribbean. In fact, it is somewhat reminiscent of the jibaro music of Puerto Rican Ramito and similar artists, which I also adore. 

Souvenir d'Afrique

Delectable piece from Boulpik, a Haitian group with an earthy twoubadou aesthetic. Beautiful banjo playing. Coupé Cloué would be proud...

Nochero Soy

Living the night life with one of the best of tango. The tango obsession continues!

Milonga del Angel

Beauty is a rare thing. Bask in the pulchritude. 

William Gibson

Interesting talk with William Gibson for all fans of science fiction. Highly recommend. He admits outright that part of his fiction is just transporting the horrid conditions of life in the Global South to North American cities, which is partly why dystopia in science fiction is already part of 'reality' in much of the world. 

No Pain Like This Body

Harold Sonny Ladoo's No Pain Like This Body quite different from Yesterdays. Although both novels share a raw, earthy, and unsentimental portrait of the lives of Indian peasants on a fictionalized Trinidad, local dialect for the dialogue of the uneducated, poor characters, and a bleak future, No Pain Like This Body features children as central to the plot, especially in their worldview, one in which jumbies, jables, lougawou, God, and death can be flexible to meet their shifting fears, hopes, and comprehension. Furthermore, the plot is not as straightforward, and the early chapters are dedicated to describing the experience of Rama, Panday, Sunaree, Balraj and their Ma after the abusive father beats his children and chases them into the rain on a tempestuous night on Carib Island. So, Ladoo's book is a slice of life in these downtrodden characters with some dark humor at the wake for Rama, yet one in which there's no escape from the black, heartless sky. Incredibly dark read but worthwhile for a different approach by an Indo-Trinidadian writer on their community.

The wake chapter actually brought to mind Roumain's magnum opus, believe it or not. Yet, I have never encountered any peasant family or community in other Caribbean literatures in which despair is so perfectly captured by the locale, family, village, and writing. Sure, urban settings in some other Caribbean writings have come close, but nothing quite like this. The other writer who came to mind is Arundhati Roy, particularly Rahel and Estha in The God of Small Things. One wonders if Roy ever read Ladoo. Perhaps she took an interest in the Indian diaspora of the Caribbean while writing her excellent novel?

Elma Constance Francois

Remember Elma Francois? I have heard of her here and there, but am ashamed to admit I did not understand the depth and work of this leftist Trinidadian woman for labor history. For a quick video special, this will suffice. Unfortunately, it does not emphasize her leftist bona fides, but at least it provides a useful introduction. The 1937 labor unrest is covered by Eric Williams and Naipaul, but, curiously, I don't recall them mentioning Francois. For more reading, Gerard A. Besson's blog contains oodles of information on her.  

A Naipaul and a Black Panther?

"Jim Jones, never an original man, was dealing in a common currency. On the day when Huey Newton was talking to those Boston students, the ideological irresponsibilities of a promiscuous decade were coming home to roost in Jonestown."

One of the strangest but most intriguing parts of Shiva Naipaul's Journey to Nowhere: A New World Tragedy, written about the Jonestown Massacre, is an interview with Huey P. Newton of the Black Panthers. Yes, Shiva Naipaul's famous brother met C.L.R. James, as well as attending a GOP convention featuring former Black Panther Eldridge Cleaver, so Vidia has met some prominent black radicals, but Shiva Naipaul struck me as more sympathetic to the plight of those on the receiving end of white supremacy. Certainly no leftist, Shiva Naipaul is critical of the posturing and bearing of arms by the Black Panthers, and even goes so far as to insinuate the extremist and alarmist rhetoric of Huey Newton and Angela Davis, talk of genocide and extermination of blacks, partly legitimate considering the racial backlash and failure of the Civil Rights Movement and Great Society to address poverty, actually fueled support for Jim Jones (Angela Davis herself allegedly supported Jones). The argument, if I may so crudely summarize, is implausible or at best, an exaggeration, but it may partly explain why so many black Americans joined Jones in Guyana and were willing to believe in him. Why not, if, as white and black radicals were saying, white America was hell-bent on destroying black America and the reality of living conditions for poor blacks were so horrific. That said, Shiva Naipaul is far too harsh on Huey P. Newton and does not seem to understand or concede to Newton that blacks patrolling the police is itself a radical act. Carrying guns and adopting militant titles and names is too much for Shiva, and morally or politically irresponsible, but perhaps that reflects Shiva's own political biases.

Despite the flaws and "blindspots" of Naipaul's understanding of race and the Black Panthers in the US, I actually enjoy his travel writing. He is witty, possesses an endearing sense of humor (in one of his other books, he jokes that he prefers the genial criticism of a West Indian who suggests Vidia actually writes Shiva's books for him!), is more perceptive than one would realize on issues of culture or race, but avoids the disturbing negrophobia of his brother. Despite sharing an 'Afropessimistic' attitude at times, Shiva occasionally shocks the reader by alluding to the dehumanizing way Europeans spoke of Africans, shares jokes about being cheated by a Kikuyu shoeshine boy, recognizes the ingenuity of Swahili civilization, and even has some insightful commentary on culture and identity in Australia. I think I prefer his travel writing to that of his brother...

Top Reads of 2015: An Overdue List

2015 has turned out to be a wondrous year of reading for me. I even challenged myself by reading literary forms I usually ignore, such as poetry (Langston Hughes, Lorca) and plays (Lorca’s Spanish tragedies, Wole Soyinka’s thoughtful work, Walcott’s Haiti-inspired Caribbean dramas). Of course, my bias in favor of the novel determined most of my reading habits this year. Naipaul, both Shiva and Vidia, provided more than enough novels to provoke my rage. Sam Selvon, the humorous Trinidadian storyteller and, of course, the ‘Trini gladiator” himself, C.L.R. James, have reaffirmed my interest in Trinidad & Tobago and leftist humanism, of course.   In other news, Kurt Vonnegut, Philip K. Dick, Octavia Butler (“Kindred” should be a movie, by the way), and other speculative fiction writers have fueled my growing interesting in science fiction, a genre I have neglected since my youth. In the spirit of the “Best of 2015” lists that are ubiquitous this time of year, here are my top “reads” of 2015:

1. Adolph Reed’s Class Notes and Stirrings in the Jug: For anyone interested in the state of black politics and race/class in the US context.

2. Barbara and Karen Fields wrote an enlightening book on race, racism, and inequality in the US, the excellent Racecraft.

3. Cedric Johnson has written a definitive account of the limitations of Black Power politics, against the prevailing trend of vindicationist scholarship one encounters. Highly recommended for all those willing to take a glance at a work of political science which does not cower in fear of criticizing some of the prominent Black Power ideologues and proponents. Revolutionaries to Race Leaders: Black Power and the Making of African American Politics is for you, if that interests you.

4. Shiva Naipaul’s Fireflies is a great tragicomedy that meets or perhaps excels his big brother’s “A House for Mr. Biswas.” With far greater attention to the plight of women, Shiva Naipaul’s humorous but depressing novel is one of the greatest depictions of the search for meaning in a seemingly small place, Trinidad. Highly recommended for all fans of Naipaul, those interested in Indo-Caribbean Trinidad, and anyone searching for a “great” novel that redeems the spirit. And, may I add, Romesh runs off to New York and marries a Puerto Rican Negro! 

5. VS Naipaul’s The Enigma of Arrival for those interested in autobiographical fiction. Describing in excruciating detail his time living in the English countryside, the true highlight for those interested in the Caribbean is VS Naipaul’s description of his 1950 trip from Trinidad to England, with layovers in Puerto Rico and New York. Fascinating and introspective reflection on movement and death, decay and rebirth. Powerful ending as Naipaul describes the funeral rites of his sister, back in Trinidad. 

6. VS Naipaul’s In A Free State, the first Caribbean novel to win the Booker Prize. Disturbing stories of freedom, lack of moorings, postcolonial revolution in Africa, the migrant experience, and, surprisingly even racism against Indo-Caribbeans in London. Recommended for those fans of Naipaul’s later, dark style ruminations on postcolonial countries without the sentimental deceptions we place before our eyes. 

7. Naipaul’s Mimic Men, for all those interested in a scathing critique of postcolonial politics in a Caribbean nation which bears an uncanny resemblance to Trinidad. 8. Andrea Levy, a British writer of Jamaican ancestry, writes the novel which so realistically depicts the world the Windrush generation of West Indians faced upon arrival in England. World War II, interracial marriage, colonialism, British racism, India, Jamaica, and the “smallness” of both islands figure prominently in this powerful novel. Highly recommended for all interested in Black Britain, Jamaica, class in English society, etc.

9. Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle. I think I’ll skip the Amazon TV adaptation, and stick to this fascinating alternative history in which Nazi Germany and Japan win WWII. Recommended for all fans of “phildickian” creativity, metaphysics, and science fiction.

10. Lorca’s Yerma, a disturbing look at the life of a woman in Spanish society and the “proper” place for women, fertility, and pagan themes. Highly recommended, as well as “Blood Wedding,” translated from the Spanish by the inimitable Langston Hughes. 

11. The Military and Society in Haiti by Michel Laguerre is essential reading for all interested in Haitian society, history, the disproportionate role of its military in its political history and why for such a small country which rarely used its military on external enemies, how its function in politics led to its problems with local populations.

12. Vonnegut’s God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater is pertinent to the issues of class in American society, a topic we usually ignore or pretend we’re all “middle-class.” 

13. The Black Jacobins by CLR James is a classic in the black radical tradition. I recently re-read it for the third time, and, as always, learned something new. 

14. Octavia Butler’s Kindred is only my second foray in SF by writers of color, but initiated a process I hope to continue on! I firmly believe this should be adapted into a film or miniseries. 

15. Dany Laferriere’s An Aroma of Coffee, for all readers who enjoy writers’ attempts at recapturing their youth and a child-like sense of wonder. Dany Laferriere’s grandmother, Da, will make you cry. As Futurama once said, a grandmother is both honored and subjugated....

16. The Beast of the Haitian Hills (Bete du Musseau) by Philippe-Thoby Marcelin and Pierre Marcelin, two Haitian writers, surprisingly took a hold on me. Not exactly sure if its a horror story, a fable, or something else, this 1940s Haitian novel succeeds in taking one to the world(view) of the Haitian countryside while satirizing class relations.

17. Jamaican-American Claude McKay’s Home to Harlem is a classic in Harlem Renaissance literature. Lots of radical Harlem political viewpoints expressed here, such as opposition to US Occupation in Haiti, post-WWI black militancy, and precious 1920s Harlem slang and language. Once you remember McKay wrote “If We Must Die,” this novel makes more sense.

18. Death and the King’s Horseman, by Wole Soyinka. For anyone and everyone interested in Nigeria, Africa, Yoruba culture and traditions, colonialism, and human nature. This short play moved me.

19. Esmeralda Santiago’s When I Was Puerto Rican is rightfully a classic in Puerto Rican, Hispanic, Latin@ literature and circles. Santiago’s “loss” of life in Puerto Rican countryside and then the slums of the capital will leave tears in your eyes, particularly when she’s ‘uprooted’ a second time to New York. I will have to read the read of the trilogy soon.

20. Boyhood: Scenes from Provincial Life by Coetzee offers a fictionalized account of Coetzee’s childhood in the South African countryside and the eventual move to Cape Town. Lots of insightful commentary on the countryside, race relations, politics as the Nationalist Party hovers in the shadows, and a South Africa that no longer exists. 

21. Earl Lovelace’s The Wine of Astonishment, required Caribbean literature. I knew nothing of the Spiritual Baptists or this Trinidadian world in which Lovelace depicts so well. 

22. The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon brings to life the Windrush generation! London, that’s the place for me! Humorous, written in ‘dialect,’ experimental, and not only about West Indian migrants in 1950s London (there’s a humorous West African who hangs out with the West Indians, bedding prostitutes and living off various women, including a funny encounter with a transgender woman), Selvon has quickly become one of the more enduring writers to me in his deep identification with Trinidad, transcending the racial barriers the Naipaul brothers never seemed able to cross in their West Indian fiction.

23. Naipaul’s Suffrage of Elvira is class Naipaul: Trinidad setting, satirical, comical, lampooning local society and politics. Naipaul biographer Patrick French is right: if Naipaul had only written his early Trinidad comic fiction, his reputation as a writer of the Caribbean and the English language would still be firmly entrenched. Anywho, I’ll say one thing about the people of Elvira: you don’t have to bribe them twice! 

24. The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes. As a creative soul who wrote for multiple decades, his poetry encompassed many styles and political ideas. I personally love his proletarian, left-wing verse, but there’s more than enough for everyone to laugh, from comedy, blues, jazz, black internationalist rhymes, etc.

25. A Way in the World by Naipaul. Not really a novel, though marketed as such in the US, this suite of interconnected stories takes one to Amerindian Guyana, anti-colonial 1950s politics in Trinidad, and a semi-autobiographical narrator who describes an attempt at being courted by the Caribbean leftists and black nationalists. In typical Naipaul fashion, our narrator refers to the notion of a racial movement forward too sentimental! I love it, even though I profoundly disagree with Naipaul and his condescending description of we people who are darker than blue. Nonetheless, his fictionalized CLR James, Lebrun, is granted respect in this tale stretching from South America’s Guyana and Venezuela to Trinidad and beyond. 

Many other books were read or perused, but these 25 have left a mark for 2015. 

Radio Free Albemuth

"The U.S. and the U.S.S.R., I understood, were the two portions of the Empire as divided up by the Emperor Diocletian for purely administrative purposes; at heart it was a single entity, with a single value system. And its value system was the concept of the supremacy of the state. The individual counted in its scales as nothing, and individuals who turned against the state and generated their own values were the enemy."

Radio Free Albemuth is actually better than I thought it would be. Philip K. Dick's novel is very similar to the other Valis-themed novels of his late period, but more restrained than the more self-referential Valis with less overt Gnostic and Jewish references than Divine Invasion. In fact, I think Dick inserting himself as a character but creating Nicholas as a similarly autobiographical character for his own experiences with Valis succeeds marvelously here. Nicholas, like Dick, not only undergoes a theophany, predicts his infant son's ailment, worked as a clerk in Berkeley, dropped out of the University, and moves from Berkeley to Southern California, but also shares with Dick a similar paranoia and experience of being recruited to spy by the FBI. Phil Dick in the novel is, of course, another extension of the same person, and the juxtaposition of both 'halves' of the same being as narrators works well here. It's familiar ground for any fans of Dick, employed excellently in A Scanner Darkly. Indeed, Radio Free Albemuth brings to mind the optimistic conclusion of Scanner (sowing the seeds) with the dystopic vision of Flow My Tears and conspiratorial Nixonian nightmare of Valis. Like Divine Invasion, one finds two seemingly opposed forces that represent the same evil, Fremont's fascist US and the USSR, united against the people, which could almost be read in a libertarian or leftist light, more likely left-wing given Dick's background with Berkeley bohemia. 

Moving on, Divine Invasion, Christian themes and Gnosticism play a significant role, as well as numerous allusions to Rome, early Christianity, and references to Philip K. Dick's struggle as a writer, artist, and self-doubt. For that reason alone, it's fascinating to read this work. Radio even hints at his late masterpiece, Transmigration of Timothy Archer, through Nicholas's experience with the "professional students" and leftist scenes of Berkeley. Even more so than in Valis, what particularly stands out here is Phil's conversation with Leon, an ex-pastor who stresses the importance of faith and millennialism in the present, material reality (a reality that is, when you stop believing in it, ceases to disappear, to paraphrase Dick). Much like Maze of Death, for those willing to put their faith in Valis or the higher power, beaming to the Aramcheks through satellite, one can still effect change in the surrounding real world of suffering or physical ailment. He somehow manages to avoid hitting the reader over the head with the dense spiritual and religious references. 

As for "ranking" the Valis-period work of Dick, I believe I would rank the four novels in this order:

1. Transmigration: Amazing female narrator and central character, effusive prose, inspired by "true" story of Jim Pike, Christian conspiracy, and a central idea of agape and life after death. 

2. Radio Free Albemuth: More restrained and still exciting Valis hinting at the masterpiece above

3. Valis: An emotional and theological rollercoaster into Dick's life after 1974

4. Divine Invasion: A little too melodramatic and Gnostic for my tastes, but intriguing use of Zoroastrian and Jewish ideas and metaphors with an intriguing conclusion and idea of parousia. 

Side Note: One of Futurama's best episodes revolves around a similar deity/entity Bender encounters in space. Methinks the writers of the show were fans of Philip K. Dick. Unfortunately, the film adaptation of the novel is horrible, and Alanis Morisette does not have the "Afro-natural" hairstyle of the character she plays from the book, Aramchek (I suspect an Afrocentrist reader would have a field day with the hair texture of Aramchek). Similarly, the film, from what I recall, omits the redemptive ending of the novel while underplaying the role of Rachel and Johnny, the wife and son of Nicholas. 

Esos No Son De Aqui

Adorable video of legendary Myrta Silva singing to Puerto Rico. Notice fellow legend Rafael Cortijo in the background. Song composed by the legendary Rafael Hernandez, an important Latino in the history of Latin music and jazz. 

Remembering Shiva Naipaul

V.S. Naipaul and Shiva Naipaul, together with their father in the background. 

How sinful of me to forget Trinidadian Shiva Naipaul, whose birthday was on the 25th of last month. Shiva Naipaul, trapped in his older brother's shadow, is one of my favorite writers. Some of his short stories are even funnier than Vidia's. Indeed, my favorite story by Shiva is the tale of a Hindu thief who exploits a children's choir on Christmas to make money, making for the best humorous Christmas story one could ever need. Shiva Naipaul's novels are also tragicomedies of the most gravity, imbuing meaning to 'small islands' in a way most would choose to ignore. Christopher Hitchens also thought highly of Shiva, praising "Fireflies," a masterpiece, which I believe surpasses A House For Mr. Biswas. Unlike his famous big brother, Shiva Naipaul could write fully developed female characters and avoid some of the more Negrophobic tendencies of Vidia's fiction and travel writing. In fact, according to Paul Theroux, Vidia used to mock his younger brother, who went to Oxford and studied Chinese, as believing in the liberal talk of racial equality and interracial unions. 

As for his travel writings, I have only read here and there, but Shiva offered, through his nonfiction, similarly dark musings that fans of Vidia will appreciate. Who could forget Shiva's daytrip between Africa and Europe, Islam and Christianity, ending so sourly? Shiva's experience with an English woman who could not fathom an East Indian from the West Indies? Or his potent observation on the function of Bollywood as the opium den of Bombay? Of course, anything the Naipauls ever wrote in their travel writing should be taken with a grain of salt, but Shiva struck me as less devoted to the imperialist gaze. 

Milonga Jibara

Irresistibly catchy. Although I usually listen to salsa, bomba or plena when it comes to music from Puerto Rico, Ramito represents another musical tradition just as grand. The guitar and cuatro in Ramito's music is always delectable, too.