Book 205: St Lucia (English) – Death by Fire (Anderson REYNOLDS)

The year was 1938, the month was October, and it was the hurricane season. Prophets of doom riding horse-drawn carts with attached bells traversed the main roads passing through farming villages and all the streets of the towns lining the island’s coast, shouting their warning of an upcoming hurricane. The people should stock their houses with food, hammers, nails, candles and kerosine [sic] lamps. And those whose houses were suspect should consider seeking refuge in Roman Catholic Churches, then the largest and sturdiest buildings on the island.

In more eloquent voices, at every hour of the day, the radio repeated, in both English and Kwéyòl, the message of impending disaster. The warning cries of the prophets of doom and the eloquent voices on the radio were largely unnecessary. Even the tiniest creatures of the land could sense the danger. Nature had telecast its own mischief. For two days, dark, heavy clouds had blanketed the sun. The land had entered a perpetual predawn. The air was chilly, and, though rain was yet to fall, damp. The people could even smell the rain. 

 

Choosing a book for St Lucia was both easy and hard. It should be easy because the small Caribbean island country is blessed with one of the giants of world literature – Nobel laureate Derek Walcott. (Apparently this novel’s title comes from one of his poems). But he is a poet, and I needed a novel. The other top writers also seemed to be only poets. Finally I found Anderson Reynolds and chose Death by Fire. And yes, the St Lucians can write great novels too!

This beautiful island has repeatedly suffered tragedies, according to this novel, because the gods of the land were upset that the Carib Indians permitted the French colonialists to move the capital from Soufrière to Castries (then called Carènage!) That sounds like the ‘justification’ of a terrorist/warmonger/persecutor/religious bigot for killing innocent people, in ‘revenge’ for what their ancestors supposedly did a long time ago. But apart from that caveat, this is a fantastic novel!

It is an historical novel which jumps back and forward through time and between characters (in a much more successful way than most such attempts), with a bit of mythological history thrown in.

Reynolds, who knows what he is talking about, manages a deep analysis of the country’s problems through a few totally natural conversations.

The story-line follows two women. Unlucky Felina is left pregnant and abandoned by her boyfriend, and transfers her hatred at her fate to their son Robert

Beautiful Christine is also unlucky but is more resilient. She is a descendant of indentured Indian labourers on her mother’s side and a ‘Black/White’ mix on her father’s. Felina and Christine come from different worlds but their sons Robert and Trevor become great friends. Robert’s ‘devilment’ gets his friend Trevor into trouble (since Robert gives him the attention he never got from his mother). They end up committing a horrible crime. It all ends in the conflagration of the title.

I learnt a huge amount about St Lucian life and history from this one. The relations between the various ethnicities seemed very sad – everyone thinking they were better than everyone else. The Indian indentured servants (who were often, as here, tricked into coming out) and their descendants live lives little different from the (freed) slaves but still look down on them. The ‘Blacks’ in turn despise the Indians.

The novel is simply written but engrossing. I enjoyed it very much.

 

 

Reynolds, Anderson, Death by Fire, Vieux Fort/NY/London, Jako, 2001, 2018, ISBN 978-09704432-1-2

 

Book 157: Namibia (English) – Born of the Sun (Joseph DIESCHO)

“Do you have any questions?”

There are no questions. The men are hungry for more information about what they will soon experience, but how do you ask questions about what you don’t know, have never experienced and do not have the foggiest idea about? In any case, you simply do not ask your mother what she will cook tomorrow, you wait graciously for the food, eat it, and then ask your questions. The future will have its own rules. You do not ask today what you will do to the bridge tomorrow – you will either cross it, or burn it, when you get to it.

This is one that I picked up in the Windhoek. Namibia was colonised by the Germans (as South West Africa), then ruled by South Africa (supposedly on behalf of its people) who tried to impose their own apartheid system. It finally gained independence after a long guerrilla struggle and international sanctions pressure.

Muronga is a (perhaps too perfect?) young man who grows up in an isolated village with little knowledge of the world, and that coming through German Catholic missionaries. The book portrays Catholicism very negatively, which (as author himself remarks in a note) “is more accurate for an earlier period in history than for the time frame in which this novel is placed.” It seems like more of a send-up, with threats to “un-baptise” those who are not good… The natives can’t even remember or pronounce the baptismal names they’ve been given.

When South Africa took over, it made the people pay taxes for the first time. This meant that their young men had to go to work in the horrid conditions of apartheid South Africa’s mines. Their recruitment process was reminiscent of slave processing and they were separated from their family and friends for years, maybe forever. Eventually Muronga comes to fight for the miners’ rights against the exploitation. Yet somehow he still seemed to me rather naive at the end.

Born of the Sun was an uncomfortable read – apart from the horrible conditions and racism suffered by the ‘Blacks’, they themselves came across against ‘Whites’ who are all portrayed as bad (and lumped together as ’the white man’).

Because of the simplicity of the writing, treatment of the issues and the plot, I felt like this first novel by a native Namibian was really a children’s book, although a friend of the author that I spoke with assured me that he didn’t intend it to be. But we need to be reminded of this cruel time in history.

Joseph DIESCHO (1955 – ) with Celeste WALLIN, Born of the Sun, Windhoek, Gamsberg Macmillan, 2002, ISBN 99916-0-386-7 (first published in US 1988)

Book 75: Ecuador (Spanish) – Huasipungo = The Villagers (Jorge ICAZA)

‘The Indians cling with blind and morbid love to this scrap of land which is lent to them in exchange for the work which they give to the hacienda. What’s more: in their ignorance they believe that it is their own property. You know. There they put up their thatched huts, farm their little smallholdings, raise their animals.’
‘Sentimentalities! We must overcome all difficulties no matter how hard they may be. The Indians… What? What do the Indians matter to us? To put it better… They must… They must be important TO US… Of course… They can form a very important factor in the business. The arms… The work…’
[my translation]

 

In 1930s Ecuador, building a road through the jungle should have brought prosperity and modernity to the local Indians, but landowner Don Alfonso only thinks of using it to increase his personal wealth. He robs them first of their labour then of their huasipungos (small plots of land allocated to tenant farmers by the hacienda/large estate owner in exchange for work), causing them to revolt and be massacred. (A more accurate spelling in English orthography would be ‘wasipungo’).
Icaza was maybe the greatest Ecuadorian author of the 1900s. ‘Huasipungo’ needs to be seen in the context of the indigenista movement (which was influential across the arts spectrum), which highlighted the oppression and struggles of the indigenous people. Its themes are exploitation by big landowners and gringos, racism (including the racism of the mixed-race mestizos against those with more Indian blood than themselves), class struggle, and the venal, collaborationist church which functions as part of the power structure and has been bribed into using the faith as a weapon against the indigenous.
The casually inhuman treatment of the natives as if they are not people is quite shocking. For example, in one incident, cattle invade the corn fields during the night. Don Alfonso thinks he’s a hero just because he had to get up in the middle of the night to do something about it! To reward himself, he rapes a powerless indigenous girl. They are basically treated like property, even the indentured labourers. These have been subjected to forced labour under the very real threat of losing their land.
Fuelled by chicha, a fermented corn drink (which is doled out to them like medicine), they are forced to drive the road through a marsh, against the engineer’s advice, leading to a horrific death.
The Ecuadorian Spanish spoken by the indigenous people is not too hard to follow, but is obviously influenced by their native Quechua which only has the vowels a, i, u, so that their Spanish loses its e and o vowels. The Indians tend to speak as a chorus almost like in a Greek tragedy. They are an integral part of the country, while the whites seem out of place and slightly ridiculous.
This important and engaging novel shows in black and white the long shadow that colonialism cast over Ecuador.

 

ICAZA, Jorge (1906-79), Huasipungo, Madrid, Cátedra, 2013 (originally published 1934), ISBN 978-84-376-1251-5

In English:
Icaza, Jorge: The Villagers