Tag: island

Title: How to Love a Jamaican 

Author: Alexia Arthurs

Synopsis:  How to Love a Jamaican is a collection of short stories about different Jamaican people living in either the US or on the Island.

Trigger Warnings: Depression, eating disorders, verbal abuse, identity issues, LGBTQ* issues  (coming out, living), death in the family, child loss, absentee fathers, sexual assault, pedophilia, drugs, death, breast cancer

Rating: 3 or 3.5 stars

 

First Impression: What on Earth did I just read?

The Review:

I really wanted to love this book, but I couldn’t. I’ll say outright that the first and last stories are the most poignant, the others are forgettable. Though I love the idea of having Caribbean representation, I feel How to Love a Jamaican  failed to provide a holistic picture. Because Arthurs opted to write a series of short stories, I expected to see multiple different aspects of Jamaican life. Instead, all of the characters are more or less the same, and they’re all victims.

 

Most of the characters have absentee fathers who sleep around, almost all of the mothers are portrayed as overbearing, and all of the children suffer from trauma related to their dysfunctional family. There are several gay and lesbian characters, and none of them are fully accepted by their families. Most of the characters see moving away from the island as the ultimate goal in life. While I was reading, I kept feeling like I’d seen the story before. In fact, one of the stories seemed lifted directly out of the New York Times. I felt like I was reading trauma porn.

 

To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded the trauma porn if there were character growth and if the composition has a bit more artistry. I actually think it would have been better for Arthurs to choose a selection of the stories and drawn them out more. I’d have liked to seen more sides of the characters, rather than the same aspect portrayed in all of them.

 

Besides the structural issues, I found a problematic thread running through the stories. There were both implicit and explicit declarations that fair/yellow skin, wavy hair and “European features” are more beautiful and that those bearing them are more deserving of success. I’m sure Arthurs included these threads simply to illustrate Caribbeans’ unnatural obsession with fair skin, but I would have appreciated more commentary on the subject. As it stands, I’m not sure whether the characters fetishize “biracial beauties” or whether Arthurs herself (who is neither particulary fair nor particularly dark) actually subscribes to this colorist propaganda.

 

But Sarabi, if you hated the book so much, why are you giving it three stars instead or just one or two?

 

Well.

 

Even though the book is not for me, I will still acknowledge that it’s not that bad. I’m not Caribbean, but I still see myself represented in How to Love a Jamaican. I’m sure there are plenty of others will see themselves as well. There are also moments when Arthurs makes a very good point, laying bare the internal struggles PoC face. The relatability is also part of the reason I included so many trigger warnings. I had to stop reading at times to sort myself out before continuing.

 

In the first story, which is my favorite of all of them. Arthurs explores the intersection between race and class. She places two adult children of Jamaican immigrants side my side. One is rich, the other is not. The narrator (the poorer Jamaican) discusses how she feels interacting with the rich Jamaican. There’s a sense of camaraderie because they are both black and both Jamaican, but she’s acutely aware that there is a slight distance between them because they have had very different life experiences, and because they each can’t imagine what the other went through. We experience the narrator feeling slightly uncomfortable, embarrassed even, when introducing the rich girl to her home life. We see her disgust when the rich girl only uses black guys to get back at her white lover. The rich girl’s family wealth allows (or perhaps causes) her to behave similarly to the people who once oppressed both of their families.

 

Later on, we see several versions of sexuality. We see men with men, women with women, men with multiple women and women with multiple men. Each of these stories shows us the Jamaican attitude towards sexuality, and make it clear that while “slack” men are frowned upon, their sexual exploits are much more acceptable than those of “slack” women in the Caribbean community. All of the stories with homosexual characters tell us that Caribbean communities consider homosexuality unacceptable, even if one’s friends claim to tolerate it. None of this information is new, and the stories aren’t particularly good, but the self-acceptance in them is healthy and could possibly help someone still struggling with their identity.

 

Arthurs even touches on the perception of psychiatric medication in the Caribbean community. The mention of the medicine is so brief you might miss it, the one-liner sends the message that depression isn’t supposed to exist in Jamaicans. Having depression and seeking help is something shameful. I know from experience that this is true not only of Caribbean communities, but PoC communities as a whole. Each community handles mental health issues a little differently, but most of them sweep it under the rug one way or another.

 

Frankly speaking, even I’ll admit that three stars is a little harsh for this book, but 3.5 is also too much. It has the potential to be a four star collection but it’s just not there for me yet. Some days I think about the book and I want to give it two stars, then I remember some truly terrible collections (like Her Body and Other Stories, which I plan to review… eventually) get two stars and I want to give How to Love a Jamaican four stars.

 

Ultimately, I decided three stars was a fair compromise, but if I’m feeling generous I’ll call it 3.5. I can see this book winning awards. It ticks all the boxes: it’s a debut collection from a Black female author, it discusses sexuality in detail, it serves trauma for breakfast and it’s full of introspection rather than action. All of the books that have been nominated recently seem to be pretty much the same thing: “innovative” ways to see women’s/minority’s stories. There’s nothing particularly innovative if you belong to that community, but the people making the decisions usually don’t, therefore the novels are praiseworthy.

 

If you made it this far, thanks a ton. ❤ You’re the real MVP.

If you want to read it, you can find it on Amazon or wherever you usually buy books.

If you have recommendations of books by minority authors, please drop them in the comments. I’m always looking for something that’s actually new. (I.E. The Vegetarian  was PHENOMENAL.)