Tag Archives: Childhood

Black Shack Alley- Colonialism and Racism

I can’t quite believe that just last week we were talking about incest and now we are making a sharp turn towards racism and colonialism. Black Shack Alley is one of the stand out novels that I have enjoyed so far in this class. This reading feels a lot more reminiscent of common literary novels that we would feature in middle school or high school, not merely because it concerns race and colonialism, but because it offers a unique perspective and portrayal whilst still highly relevant to the setting and topic of the novel. I think that the author’s writing style is very powerful and vivid especially in his depiction of the of emotional truths to the story (for lack of a better word) that goes beyond just language to evoke imagery or to paint a picture ; he seems to have this ability to envelop the reader into the moment and I feel like considering the message and setting of the book, that is a very praise worthy feat. I feel like in this case, authenticity in experiences carries the bulk of the messaging, and thus a lot of the messages in the book need not be a direct finger point yet it still maintains the same effect.

There were a lot of parts of this book that were really striking to me. One of the many memorable quotes to me was “I already knew by intuition that the devil, misery, and death were more or less the same evil individual, who persecuted the blacks above all. And I wondered in vain what blacks could have done to the devil and to the béké to be so oppressed by both.” which was a thought by Jose when he was asking questions to Médouze. I feel like no words can ever describe the sadness you feel when you hear something like that, especially from a CHILD. As if the treatment would in any way ever be self-inflicted. I was reading up on some background for the book, and I found that the author only passed away in 2006 (and that the book is somewhat based on his own life and experiences). I think colonial history as it has been taught often seems like something of the past, without acknowledgement that it still controls the power dynamics of the world today and the conditions of colonialism for a lot of countries still remain basically the same regardless of legality. This is similar to how at the time when Jose was still at the plantation, slavery was technically abolished however the material conditions of the place remained largely the same.

A question to everyone this week: how has education played a role in your reckoning of social positioning within your ethnic background? I’m curious, because coming from an Asian immigrant household education is basically everything and the cultural messaging is very strong, and I find that to be a noteworthy topic within the book as well which made me curious about others.

The Shrouded Woman – The Feminine Perspective

The Shrouded Woman by Bombal was this weeks required reading, which is sort like a series of vignettes inspired one by one by different people who have come to visit this dead woman at her funeral, and is then told from her perspective. I think just the premise of this kind of novel seems to be a pretty popular choice somewhat by writers, as popular books even nowadays seem to feature that sort of exploration, such as The Midnight Library. One thing that is different though is that the intention behind recounting your life and I guess the overarching message as different authorial intents kind of leads the readers to different conclusions. For examples, a lot of the times authors sort of loom the question of “what would you have done differently?” or “What are your regrets?” or “What are the final lessons you actually learn looking at your life to gain peace?” over our heads as the main character sort of gets this revelation in the face of death. However, for this book, I sort of feel like this books focus was about honesty. I think in many ways it works to capture the authenticity in Ana Maria’s thoughts, beliefs, and most importantly emotions, even though at time they may be immature, immoral or whatever that might be. Point is that I don’t think she is trying to curate this image of herself, or what she “means” to be to prove a point. I think the portrayal of her authentic experience sort of utilizes this structure in a different way, sort of like an answer to the question: what was a woman’s life like during this time and place? What could she possibly be thinking about? How would she feel about this topic? It sort of works to answer this question about identity more.

One thing that particularly stood out to me is that the construction of the novel is about delving into moments of her life again, but the centre of the narrative is very very concentrated on this sort of nuclear family and their family business. I think a lot of times it is true that female authors put a much heavier emphasis on the relationships of those around them and I found this book to be the same way. I imagine that if I were to write down my own life story or recount what recall at the time of my death, I probably would do the same too. But I guess I also recognize that in the time and place of where Ana Maria lived, women likely were conditioned to primarily focus on their family and manage the family etc. so in some sense, they are primed to place much more significance on this topic. By just considering the focus of her recalling the events of her life, it sort of gives rise to a broader conversation about the positions and roles of women at that time and place.

Question: Which character in the novel stood out to you the most and why was it Maria Griselda? Just kidding please let me know who it is and why.

Combray – Windows into childhood, modernism, and…confusing writing?

Im sure you can tell from the title that much like the other people in this course, I did not enjoy the writing style of this book. But before I jump into ranting about it, I’ll talk about some more interesting aspects of the book first.

The flow and focus of this books features a sort of choppy consciousness – like you’re reaching back into the depths of your memory and just recalling whatever you can that relates to one another, which often times don’t necessarily connect that well. I think that really contributes to the confusion of this book because there seems to be holes in between the sentences, contexts, and stories. So as a reader on my end, I’m trying to scour the pages to try to piece things together and read on the sentences to see if things will come together, yet it doesn’t. But that seems to be intentional in some ways maybe?. Also, it features windows as a symbol- reading this book did feel like I was glancing into the window of someones house and it reminds me of the reality that this is someone else’s story being retold for their own purposes, so the world and the bounds of it are dictated by them only, not necessarily meant for others to easily understand. Which also connects to my next point.

A lot of the times, I feel that reading is sort of like an interaction between writer and reader, somewhat like a dance (it takes two to tango etc. etc. etc.) like maybe a children’s book will be more direct and guiding along so on the authors part they design their writing to be more rooted in the audiences perspective. Somewhat like you’re being taught to dance and held by the hand to see the world through the authors eyes and stories. For this book, it felt like instead of the usual duet, it’s instead the author’s solo performance and I’m just there to watch. I think that process is unusual and does challenge our activeness and perspectives on what it means to be a reader.

And that then leads me to my next point and I guess my dissatisfaction with the book. When reading a book I think I seek to empathize. I want to see the perspective of a character that isn’t me, know what’s going on about them or what they think about things. I also held this expectation for this book, but for some reason this book just didn’t really connect with me. It could be that I just don’t care about the ramblings of a little rich boy but I think it’s more than that- I can’t discern the relevancy (in the sense of the purpose of what he means to convey) from his sentences and that could just be a fault of mine.

To end with a question, why do you think people write, or what is the purpose of writing a novel/book? What do you think Proust’s view was?