Jamal Reads

Book reviews and commentary by J.C. Reads.

[jamalreads-blog]

Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

“People can't, unhappily, invent their mooring posts, their lovers and their friends, anymore than they can invent their parents. Life gives these and also takes them away and the great difficulty is to say Yes to life.” 

Well, that was depressing. James Baldwin is easily one of my favorite authors, not only for his mesmerizing prose but the raw emotional intensity he packs into his writing. Let me just say that this novel contains some of the most haunting passages of unrequited love that I have ever read. Giovanni's Room is often considered a 'classic' of LGBT literature (rightfully so) but there is so much going on beneath the surface than simply a story about a doomed love-affair between two gay men living in Paris during the 1950's. Of course, male homosexuality and identity politics is an important thematic aspect of the novel. Baldwin's piercing insight into the struggle of achieving an authentic self because of societal gender and sexual norms is fascinating. The psychological exploration of loneliness and self-deception is complex and painfully realized. The themes here are universal and this novel should appeal to anyone regardless of one's sexuality.

Semi-autobiographical and advocating for the recognition of a shared common humanity, Baldwin’s depiction of queer sexuality and internalized self-loathing/homophobia is complex in its many contradictions. His sensitivity to language and effective use of metaphor is something to marvel at. Additionally, the exploration of loneliness, guilt and grief is very moving. While achingly beautiful at times, the novel is also slightly problematic in its acquiescence to white hegemony and Eurocentric literary culture. Is the reader meant to decode Baldwin's palimpsest, revealing a shameful and repressed queer black identity? By removing the subject of race, the white/black dichotomy takes on more metaphorical and symbolic meanings. Paradoxically, blackness and homosexuality are intrinsically linked yet totally absent. Giovanni, an Italian, represents the “colored man” whereas homosexuality is related to darkness, blackness--both literally and metaphorically. For me, Baldwin’s decision to depict race as being interchangeable with sexuality is a slight flaw. Giovanni’s ethnicity can be seen as representing the emasculated homosexual black man but doesn’t always work. Thus, this metaphorical interpretation of the text as being “raceless” drastically undermines the novel’s emotional impact and sociopolitical rhetoric regarding black queer identities. So, I'm a little torn on this one--while there is much to admire, it isn’t as memorable as some of Baldwin’s other works. However, I have a feeling this novel will grow on me over time.

3.5/5

[jamalreads-blog]

I love discovering hidden gems and 'The Lonely Londoners' by Sam Selvon is certainly one of them. The story follows a group of black men living in--yes, you guessed it, London--during the 1950's as they experience various hardships of being discriminated in a foreign city that is predominantly white and doesn't want them there in the first place. Many immigrants arriving on England's shore from the West Indies are bravely optimistic like Galahad (a fitting nickname given to him by Moses, the central character in the narrative who has lived in this country for many years) who have come here in search of a better life only to quickly discover that any notion of England's roads being paved with gold is a pure myth. Living in London as a black man is to be treated with haughty derision as a foreigner, a racialized "other" who is considered less than human. Work is scarce and many live in abject poverty, barely scraping together enough money to pay the rent or eat on a regular basis. While this sounds like it would be a bleak and depressing read, which it certainly can be at times, the author's satirical critique of racism and 'blackness' is actually very very funny. Selvon's witty humor and comedic flair shines through in highlighting the absurdity of displacement within this diasporic space. The narrative framework consists of a series of 'ballads' or vignettes mostly mediated from the perspective of Moses and is written in a type of 'creolization' that lends itself to an authentic representation of a working-class black vernacular. Thus, Selvon's narrative technique is intrinsically connected to the articulation of lived experience and the need to establish a collective voice against the oppression of language itself along with the shaping of fragmented Caribbean consciousness. Despite its short length, Selvon's work offers a complex representation of the black diaspora--more specifically, home and homelessness. The underlying irony is that even though life in England is pretty terrible, many of these black men refuse to return home. In other words, they are stuck in limbo, neither here nor there. Selvon's London is often a presented as a phantasmagoria, a dream-like and confounding space for them as they battle loneliness and disappointment. Their desire for stability is always out of reach and they must learn to adapt to the hostile environment. Yet, Selvon somehow manages to find humor in this interminable struggle, this incessant longing for home and that is no easy accomplishment. Such a great read.