Showing posts with label Earl Lovelace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Earl Lovelace. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

The Wine of Astonishment

"And we really blind not to see that to these people we is just a joke that come in fashion once every five years when they come with pen and paper and take our names, promising to bring down the moon and the stars, feting us on rum and roti so we could ride their car on election morning and mark a X next to their name."

Earl Lovelace's The Wine of Astonishment is an interesting read for those who gravitate toward Caribbean literature. Employing the Trinidadian vernacular English through Eva, the peasant woman who narrates the tale, Lovelace tells the story of the tribulations Spiritual Baptists face in Bonasse as they struggle to express themselves and their religion in a colonial context. World War II, the negative social impact of the Yankees, the colonial government's discriminatory outlawing of the Spiritual Baptist church, urbanization, class, and the betrayal of the black political leadership are just some of the obstacles to freedom of religion and asserting the humanity of Trinidadians of African descent. 

Because of its postcolonial themes and assertion of a communal basis for black advancement in a Trinidadian context, the novel is quite similar to the only other novel by Lovelace I have read, The Dragon Can't Dance. Both use local traditions and themes (Carnival, stickfighting, Afro-Christian Spiritual Baptist traditions)  and an unmistakable solidarity with the lower classes for social advancement. In this novel, the push for the colonial government to ensure freedom of worship for the Spiritual Baptists is inseparable from their dignity, pride, and African roots, just as Carnival and stickfighting also represent the black creole culture of Trinidad. Through these traditions, which survive rural to urban migration and (Western) education, one can arguably see the survival of these cultural forms and the assertion of human dignity by the people of Bonasse after all their trials and tribulations. 

That is why the novel's conclusion is so powerful. The Spiritual Baptists celebrate their freedom to worship but the Spirit does not descend. Instead, on the way to an election event for Ivan Morton, the politician who has betrayed Bonasse by trying to live as a white man for years, they find the Spirit in a steelband performance. The Spirit of this syncretistic Afro-Trinidadian church is found in the culture of the everyday people, in their celebration of themselves as uniquely Trinidadian for empowerment. This allows the novel to transcend any superficial attempt to limit it solely to religious expression. The novel is a defense of the peasantry of Trinidad, of stickfighting and the African-derived warrior. This realization among Eva's community, this acknowledgement of their own pride, power, and ability to defend themselves, despite failing to do so against the self-sacrifice of stickfighting hero Bolo, is what will allow their community to become more than the earth, to reach for the skies and reveal their agency. 

For anyone searching for a difficult but short read on Trinidad, The Wine of Astonishment is an excellent literary feat. One will finish this novel with a much greater appreciation of Trinidad's cultural heritage, as well as the pervasive landscape that defines the community. While Indo-Trinidadians are largely absent(The Dragon Can't Dance is more inclusive), the historical context in which labor organizing, social change, migration to Port of Spain, and the burgeoning anti-colonial movement are key themes which increases the relevance of the novel to the broader Caribbean or Africa. Trinidad, with its black creole traditions that evolve as in the case of stickfighting or the Spirtual Baptists, is highly suggestive of the optimism that characterizes both The Wine of Astonishment and The Dragon Can't Dance. 

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Earl Lovelace's The Dragon Can't Dance


"But, for all his apparent casualness, he had read Marx and grounded on Fanon and Malcolm X and he was on the outskirts of what called itself a Socialist Movement, involving professionals and fellows from the University of the West Indies." (182)

Earl Lovelace’s The Dragon Can’t Dance, is widely considered one of the best novels to come out of not only Trinidad but the Caribbean. Indeed, it is a well-written, poetic novel about self-liberation from the colonial psyche set in the fictional slum of Calvary Hill in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad. Lovelace explores the impact of the colonial psyche and discovering one’s identity through multiple characters, such as the protagonist, Aldrick, Pariag, a man of Indian descent who leaves the countryside for Port-of-Spain, Philo, a calypso singer, and many others. Lovelace also uses Trinidadian dialect for dialogue combined with a standard English prose imbued with lyrical genius. Thus, the novel has some similar themes with Toni Morrison’s Tar Baby, specifically regarding how people of African descent respond to the extreme rationalism and regimented, authoritarian social orders and labor systems associated with plantation slavery and the industrial West.

Aldrick, the novel’s protagonist, initially saw the way of life of the people of the slums as the best response: avoiding the strict, western hegemonic rationality and devoting one’s life to idleness and living day to day. Son, in Morrison’s Tar Baby, has the same initial response as Aldrick, the dragon masquerader in Carnival, but through his relationship with Jadine, who wholly absorbs the Eurocentric mould, eventually is forced to make a decision altering his life forever. Likewise, Aldrick eventually realizes the errors of his past ways after partaking in hijacking and kidnapping of a police jeep and 2 officers, in a vain attempt to lift the consciousness of the people of Trinidad, demanding freedom, liberty, democracy. He acknowledges that driving around in a car, asking for freedom and respect will never end slavery or neocolonialism; in order to liberate the masses, people in Calvary Hill and other slums of Port-of-Spain must rise up by acting like free, human beings.

The false dichotomy of selling oneself for the so-called free, but troubled existence of idleness or giving into the Eurocentric approach to life, represented by Guy in the novel, will not bring liberation. Indeed, Lovelace also cleverly but not so subtly critiques Afrocentric, black nationalist, Afro-wearing blacks, socialists, and other self-proclaimed radicals who do nothing to seize their humanity.

Lovelace has a unique style and literary voice. I recommend this novel although it may be hard for those unaccustomed to Trinidadian culture, especially regarding food, language, and cultural elements pertaining to Carnival, calypso, and the multiracial character of Trinidad. This is seen in the novel through the mulatto, Cleothilda, and Pariag, the Indo-Trinidadian who wants to befriend Afro-Trinidadian Creoles in Calvary Hill but the ethnic differences continue to divide. Overall, this is a fascinating read that deserves multiple readings to truly comprehend the metaphor of Carnival for Trinidad’s persistent colonized mentality and the African-derived traditions influencing the masquerade and Carnival celebration. Moreover, with the focus on characters of lower socio-economic status, Lovelace depicts the lumpenproletariat as saviors of themselves, with the only avenue to liberation coming from themselves alone.