After the birth of his daughter, Pamela, David Hamilton turned away from a life of violence and transformed himself into a respected professor. But when his daughter becomes the victim of domestic violence, David must make a choice between his comfortable life or teaching Pamela's boyfriend that "real men don’t hit women.”
So Much Things to Say, by Kwame Dawes & Colin Channer; Published by Akashic Books (Ibrahim Ahmad).
Angels of Reflection: Poems by Lil; Written and Published by Lilieth H. Nelson.
Heart Song, Written and Published by Blosson O' Meally-Nelson.
Sista Single, by Carla Barrett; Published by Rebaki Christian Publishers.
Snapshots From Istanbul, by Jacqueline Bishop; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
I Name Me Name, by Opal Palmer Aadisa; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
Intersections, by Frances Marie Coke; Published by Peepal Tree Press
A Permanent Freedom, by Curdella Forbes; Published by Peepal Tree Press
The Damp In Things, Millicent A. A. Graham; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
Far District, Ishion Hutchinson; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
Dog-Heart, by Diana McCaulay; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
Who's Your Daddy? And Other Stories, by Geoffrey Philp; Published by Peepal Tree Press
Leaving Traces, by Velma Pollard; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
The Fullness of Everything, by Patricia Powell; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
She Who Sleeps With Bones, by Tanya Shirley; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
After-Image, by Dennis Scott; Published by Peepal Tree Press.
Power Game, by Perry Henzell; Published by Macmillan Publishers Limited.
John Crow's Devil, by Marlon James; Published by Macmillan Publishers Limited.
The Girl with the Golden Shoes, by Colin Channer; Published by Macmillan Publishers Limited.
Crocodile, by Anthony Winkler; Published by Macmillan Publishers Limited.
Two Can Play & Other Plays, by Trevor Rhone; Published by Macmillan Publishers Limited.
Inner City Girl, by Colleen Smith-Dennis; Published by LMH Publishing.
The Day I Met Me; Written and published by Tracey Tucker.
Souldance, by Jean Lowrie-Chin; Published by Ian Randle Publishers.
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Philp's imagination flows from a casual game of dominoes that reveals the deep undercurrent of affection between father and son to the laugh-out-loud inventiveness of a dreadlocked vampire. I encourage all villagers to read this book to see a unique view of the lives of Black boys and their (sometimes) absent fathers.
If you can't travel to the Caribbean and experience the complexities, the next best thing is to read Caribbean literature that captures the richness of a specific island. Geoffrey Philp's Who's Your Daddy and Other Stories not only conjures up the sounds and images of rural Jamaica, it also reflects the Jamaican community in Miami, which is an element that I've never seen portrayed quite so vividly.
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The first review of Who's Your Daddy?:And Other Stories has been published in The Gleaner: "Philp is Funny and Fearless." Criss-crossing the Atlantic Ocean, Philp spins tales of teenage homophobia, infidelity, religious hypocrisy, betrayal, impending death, father/son relationships, vengeance, egomania and greed in this 161-page paperback, his second collection of stories.
Philp writes without fear or favour. He tells his stories with honesty, throwing away the pen of pretentiousness to weave simple, but poignant plots with a down-to-earth style, which is refreshing. No apology is in order for graphic phrases and words that the stories are replete with
Here's the link to The Gleaner: Philp is Funny and Fearless.
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It’s funny, but I never knew that my granddad was not my father until I was almost eight years old. As far as I knew, Ma Lion and Rag & Bone (as I affectionately named them) were my mum and dad--in fact, they were really my grandparents.Much later, I learned the story of my birth to an underage mother who delivered me whilst in the care of the local authority. The story goes that when my grandmother saw my huge saucer black-as-coal eyes, she was mesmerized and vowed not to leave without me. I was three months old and I lived with her until the age of 14.
When I learned the truth about my grandparents, I don’t remember yearning for my real father. His name was never mentioned. It was as though I was a product of an Immaculate Conception or better still – that I’d fallen out of the sky!Much, much later in life when my grandfather died, my thoughts turned to the father I never knew. I started to wonder what he looked like, where he lived, but the overriding question was – why he never sought me out? What was it about me that could stifle his curiosity?
I heard talk among family and friends that he lived close by and that he’d fathered several mixed-race children, but I was never conscious of our paths ever crossing. I thought, like the perfect fairytale, my spirit would have recognized the blood connection if he ever came near.Years went by and I gradually gave up hope of ever seeing the man who was responsible for my creation. But then, out of the blue, there was a message with his address and that he wanted to see me. I was amazed at the fact that he lived on the route I travelled daily. If he had looked out his window at any given time, he would have seen me on my various sojourns along that beaten path – back and forth, back and forth. Yet strangely, our paths never coincided and we never collided.
I should have known that his summons was an indication of something wrong; he had cancer and wanted to make his peace. But where do you begin, this stranger before you who searches your face as you search his, studying every line, pockmark and mole – desperately seeking self in the reflection of each other’s eyes. Where do you start, what questions to ask, it all seemed futile. After all, he was dying and he knew it!He just wanted peace.
Did I have the courage to grant him absolution, give him penance of a few Hail Mary’s for the lifetime of deprivation?It was sad, really. I was angry and bitter, but you can’t rail against a dead man and he was the walking dead – the soul was leaving and he was just a shell of a man. I did learn about his love of music and poetry, and his artistry is now my legacy.
His funeral that followed was a dispassionate affair--father in name only. I mourned him as I would a distant acquaintance.
Sheron Hamilton-Pearson has won an autographed copy of Who’s Your Daddy?: And Other Stories.Congratulations, Sheron!
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Reading in front of family and friends, especially when there are new readers in the audience, is never easy. On the one hand, I wanted to read something that showed I had grown artistically and the faith that my family has had in me—not to speak of the money they’ve lent me—had been justified. On the other hand, I wanted to introduce new readers to my work. It’s that delicate balance that I faced when I read at Books & Books on June 9, 2009.
Of course, Mitch Kaplan helped me in satisfying the expectations of old and new readers by mentioning my previous books and setting a context for Who’s Your Daddy?. Mitch has always been a great supporter of local writers and he also recalled the earliest readings that I and many other writers have given at my favorite South Florida Indie bookstore. It was a generous introduction that helped to set the stage for the stories.
I started with “Third Time,” a humorous tale about a young man who uses his father’s advice about the “third time being the charm” to his own advantage. The audience enjoyed the double entendres and the social commentary that was part of the subtext of the reading.
That, I thought was the end of the presentation, but in responding to a question, I read “My Jamaican Touch” as an example of my experimentation with meta-fiction and magical realism. The story was a hit and my mother-in-law enjoyed it even though I had some light hearted humor at her expense.
The book signing that followed was special for me. I met old friends such as Mary Luft, Vicki Hendricks, and Barbra Nightingale, who will be reading at Books & Books on June 19. 2009.
This was one of those readings in South Florida that I’ll always remember, not only because nearly all of my extended family was there and that I introduced a few new readers to my work, but I also read stories that confirmed a feeling that I’ve had for a long time—I’ve become pretty good at this writing thing.
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Please follow this link for more photos: Reading of Who's Your Daddy? @ Books & Books.
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How do our fathers' absence or presence shape our lives?Growing Up With Dad
Growing Up Without Dad
Write a short post (maximum 1000 words) on one of these topics:
Growing up with Dad
Growing up Without Dad.
Link to this post and leave a comment on this blog with your url, so I’ll know that you’ve entered.
Write a short post (maximum 1000 words) on the topic:
Growing up with Dad
Growing up Without Dad.
Send the post to me in the body of an e-mail (geoffreyphilp101 at gmail.com) with either topic in the subject line:Growing up with Dad
Growing up Without Dad.
Please include a digital photo (.jpg).
Good luck to all!
Tuesday, June 9, 2008 @ 8pm
Books and Books265 Aragon Avenue
Coral Gables, Florida 33134
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I was as nervous as one of the blue herons I’d seen on our Black River Safari. The moment was here and I still didn’t know which story I was going to read. I’d narrowed down the choice to two stories: “The Day Jesus Christ Came to Mount Airy” or “Cry to Me” from Who’s Your Daddy? : And Other Stories. It was going to be a difficult choice between stories which confront two important issues in Jamaican life: spirituality and fatherhood.
On the other hand, “The Day Jesus Christ Came to Mount Airy” deals with fatherhood and spirituality, but in a more humorous way. It also incorporates something that I had learned from Rastafari, but has not been fully articulated in Jamaican fiction: the Divine moves in and through us. That despite the hardships and circumstances, faith and hope abide with us. It is part of our liberation. For if we can begin to think of ourselves and Jamaica as part of the Divine continuum, then we could see progressive changes in how we treat ourselves, others, and the environment. And considering the audience reaction to writers such as Anthony Winkler, whose story had what some considered “racy” content, I realized something essential in the Jamaican character: we love to laugh. And this, perhaps, is why the audience reacted favorably to Winkler even though he did use some “bad words” in his story.
I could feel it.
Later that night, after listening to readings by Terese Svoboda and Xu Xi and then to the sound clash of Colin Channer and Mutabaruka, my wife and I strolled down to the bonfires on the beach--the dull thud of the bass rivaling the incessant throb of the sea.
Calabash had provided me opportunity and I give thanks I-tinually for this. The reading, judging by some of the shouts as we headed back to Jake’s, was a success: “Jesus Christ, good story!”
My doubts had been erased. My promise had been kept.
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Related Post: Big Wheels Keep on Turnin': Calabash 09 (Part One)
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Friday, June 5, 2009: Calabash 09: Reflections
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This post has been included in Middle Zone Musings: What I Learned from a Mountaintop Experience.
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Throughout this month, I will be doing my part to help with this celebration by joining with fellow writers and artists in South Florida. I will be reading from my latest collection of short stories, Who’s Your Daddy?: And Other Stories at the following venues:
Saturday, June 6, 2009
7 - 8:30 pm
Sailboat Bend Artist Lofts
1310 SW 2nd Court
Fort Lauderdale, FL
Phone: 9546627827
art@artistswhowork.com
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Tuesday, June 9, 2008 @ 8pm
Books and Books
265 Aragon Avenue
Coral Gables, Florida 33134
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Caribbean Book and Art Fair
Celebrating Derek Walcott
1992 Nobel Literature Laureate
June 19, 20, 21, 2009
Miramar Cultural Center
2400 Civic Center Place Miramar, Fl 33025
For Information Call 954-357-7478/754-224-8150/786-537-5897
If you get a chance, stop by and see me, nuh?
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Photo credit: Caribbean American Heritage Month
I am always very careful about the things I say when I’m around teenagers because if they misunderstand tone, bias, or context, then a whole lotta people will have a lot of xplainin’ to do. So I approached with a with a bit of hesitancy my reading of “How do you tell?” from Who’s Your Daddy? at a local high school on May 8, 2009. On the surface, “How do you tell?” and “First Love” from Who's Your Daddy? are stories about identity and fit in with the literature textbook themes of "Conformity and Rebellion." But “How do you tell?” is different from "First Love," in many ways.
“How do you tell?” exists on both literal and metaphorical levels. On a literal level, the story expresses difference, but there are several clues within the text that suggest that it could also be read as the attempt of a young man to understand with his sexual identity and to "come out" to his parents.
Of course, once we had deconstructed the story, I had to answer the question, “Are you gay?” which had the follow-up, “What made you want to write this story?” I didn’t have the time to go into the prejudices that male, Jamaican writers must confront, but I talked about the issues of difference that I’ve had to face in my personal and professional life—always being a kind of exotic whether I was playing football or in graduate school and being the only black person in the room when Absalom, Absalom was being dissected. I also talked about the devastation that I had witnessed because of AIDS during the early years when no one knew how the disease was spread and many of my friends were dying.
Teenagers have a hard enough time just dealing with growing up and when sexual identity is thrown in the mix, then I can only imagine the grief that they must face daily. I hope these stories will help with the discussion of this issue that has split families and torn communities apart.
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