Alexia Arthurs’s anthology of short stories, How to Love a Jamaican (Ballantine Books), is host to these nuances. Her characters negotiate who they were, are and aspire to be as they confront and traverse their problems with proverbs and parables of their nation’s past. Arthurs creates a world that reminds us that though we have the ability to engender entirely different realities than the ones that we are currently acquainted with, distance does little to sever ties to the places, people and practices of a life now foregone, especially when love is involved. She breathes life into common experiences of immigrants, refugees and people who leave their homeland for unfamiliar grounds. But using Jamaica as a backdrop offers a unique perspective into what makes Jamaicans’—diaspora included—collective realities so distinct. To live in Jamaica is to exist in a paradox. A story, typically passed down orally, speaks to the island as a place, during the era of the transatlantic slave trade, where the most unruly and resistant slaves were sent to be “seasoned,” or broken down, into slavery. Centuries later, that same badniss is an element of our collective identity that we shoulder with pride. It’s evident in our music, our fashion, our language and our dancing but is juxtaposed by the remnants of a religious, colonial past that creeps its way into contemporary institutions and widely held beliefs. The land of wood and water is duly known for having the most churches per square mile in the world, and the influence of Christian values permeate nearly every aspect of our lives, both overtly and insidiously. What this means for many is a limitation of one’s actions and a silencing of desires for fear of reprisal, or being sequestered into the fringes of their communities. Whether it be alleviating or even amplifying parental pressures, having the space to explore sexuality or stepping out of the confines of tradition, for many Jamaicans on the island and in its far-reaching diaspora, the idea of living in the Global North—though accompanied with its own particular challenges—offers a chance for rebirth or at the very least an opportunity to step into a different kind of truth in a foreign utopia, sans the anticipation of judgements that lurk in the shadows of our subconscious.
‘It’s More Complicated Than the Grass Being Greener’: An Interview with Alexia Arthurs by Sharine Taylor









