June 30, 2015
Five (More) Questions With Pamela Mordecai
Set on the island of St. Christopher, Pamela Mordecai's latest book, Red Jacket, confronts the issues of prejudice and colorism in Africa and its diaspora. Growing up in a large extended black family, the protagonist, Grace Carpenter, must face the taunts of neighbourhood children and elders who are disturbed by her presence. For Grace is a redibo with copper coloured skin, red hair, and grey eyes. Adding to Grace's confusion about her place within her family and culture is her ignorance of her birth mother and the resistance of family members to reveal the identity of her father. Grace’s quest to discover her familial origins takes her on a journey away from the Caribbean to Africa and back home again.
After reading this remarkable novel, I had the pleasure of conducting this interview via email with Pam.
1. Why did you choose an imaginary island as the Caribbean setting?
I chose an imaginary island for the Caribbean setting because it gave me latitude. In answering that question – because it's been asked before – I've invoked a poem of mine in Certifiable called "Jus a Likl lovin.” There are two lines in that poem that speak of "the Mona moon heaving/ up from the sea". Kamau Brathwaite called me to account on that, since of course the Mona moon does no such thing! So I had to confess to him that I moved the moon because I needed the rhyme! I didn't want to be hamstrung by that kind of constraint.
If I made up my own island, I could write without being accountable where physical and social settings, behaviours, customs and even history are concerned. Thus, Marcus Garvey visits the imaginary St Chris, St Chris children speak 'standard' English exclusively when they are on school premises, and so on. Though I know Jamaica over fifty years well, I didn't want it to tie me down. To put it simply, I took the line of least resistance and greatest imaginative freedom.
2. Is this the same reason you chose Mabuli (the imagined West African country)?
In the case of Mabuli, the situation was the same and quite the opposite – the same because I needed the imaginative freedom with Mabuli also, the opposite because I needed it for other reasons. Where the island setting was concerned, I didn't want to be constrained by the need to be accurate in describing a real and very familiar place. Where the West African setting was concerned, I was working on the basis of research alone, for I've never been to West Africa. Though I was describing a made-up place, it's a place with a very specific location – Mali to the West, Burkina Faso to the east, Côte d'Ivoire to the south.
In order to be persuasive, I had to be accurate about climate, topography, flora and fauna, the history of the region, the weather over the period of years when the action in the novel takes place, and so on. So that there is indeed a Bandagara Escarpment in Mali, and the Tellem people did live there before the Dogon, and the Tellem were indeed reputed to fly, never mind that the specific incident in Red Jacket that explains how English got to Mabuli is imagined.
I needed to make Mabuli persuasive in those respects, but I needed my fancy licensed to advance some important aspects of the story, for instance the 'fact' of an organization such as the Oti, as well as certain, if you want, magical realist elements, like the walking stones and the weeping keystone in the Kenbara Stone Circle.
3. Why did you include Marcus Garvey in the narrative?
Many people fail to recognize what an extraordinary man Garvey was, and the breadth of his influence. It stretched far and wide, and I wanted my imaginary St Chris to be one of the places that he visited, and where he left his mark.
4. Ultimately, Red Jacket is about Grace's search for identity and one of her most steadfast allies is the priest, Father James Atule. Are you suggesting that the quest for self-awareness is also a spiritual journey?
At this point in my life, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s all one: as Lauryn Hill famously said, “Everything is everything.” For a while now, I’ve avoided the word “religion” because it suggests allegiances, and these have always led to fights, but I’m not sure that I even distinguish between spiritual and physical any more. There is only the journey of the individual self trying to find its way with other selves through time, in a perhaps imagined, perhaps material, world. Grace is lucky to have James Atule S.J. join her on that journey, but not because he’s a priest – because he is who he is, a fellow pilgrim, fallible and sometimes frightened, but generous and caring deeply about his fellow human beings nonetheless. Even if she hadn’t met him, there are others who from early on show Grace (not by instruction, but also by being who they are) that the journey to self-awareness and a sense of worth as a person is not a material one.
The most important of these persons is of course, Gramps. As a child Grace observes that Gramps’s God is different and that “he and Gramps have conversations all the time.” Also, “God and Gramps are often scamps together.” Her idea of a rascally God in cahoots with her rascally grandfather is an early grasp of a person with rich self-awareness, a conviction of his unique and worthy personhood. Shortly after that, she makes this quite clear: “Gramps is special. God is smart so he would know.” We walk in quest of our specialness, but neither wealth nor importance nor fame will bestow it on us. For sure, our journey to discovering who we are is what we call “spiritual” – for lack of a fuller appreciation of the Everything-that’s-everything!
5. I was really struck by this passage: "Jesus says to love our neighbours as ourselves... He exemplified that proper self-love, daring to be who he was, the Messiah, son of God, and getting killed for it. Whenever we are rejected, we need to remember that and to remember too that he rises again and his resurrected self renews the sacred self of each of us, making us more lovable.” Would it be presumptuous to suggest that this manifesto of faith is not merely part of a text, but refers also to your life and career?
It wouldn’t be presumptuous at all.
About Pamela Mordecai
Pamela Mordecai was born in Jamaica. She has published five collections of poetry, with a sixth, de book of Mary, to appear in fall 2015. Pink Icing, an anthology of short fiction, appeared in 2006, while Red Jacket is her first novel. She has published five children’s books and her poetry for children is widely anthologized – indeed, one of her children’s poems recently appeared in The Guardian (UK) in a list of “top ten poems to remember and recite”. She has also written many textbooks and edited or co-edited groundbreaking anthologies of Caribbean writing. Her poems have been shortlisted for the Canada Writes CBC Poetry Prize and the Bridport Prize (U.K.) and her short fiction for the James Tiptree Jr Literary Award. She is the recipient of the Institute of Jamaica’s Centenary and Bronze Musgrave Medals, the Vic Reid Award for Children’s Writing, and the Burla Award. Pamela lives in Kitchener.
FIve Questions With Pamela Mordecai
http://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/2012/09/five-questions-with-pamela-mordecai.html
May 15, 2023
Why I’m Switching to Vocal
I have always been concerned about the erasure of Black memory. That's why I began blogging at Geoffrey Philp's Blog Spot.
In some of my earliest blog posts, "Why I Continue to Write" and “Why I Continue to Blog,” I explained the reasons for starting the blog and what I hoped to achieve. The blog has served as an important platform for Caribbean literature and culture, connecting Caribbean writers, artists, and a wider audience. It has played a significant role in raising awareness of Caribbean literature and culture.
I'm particularly proud of several posts that I have written:
· Posts About Marcus Garvey: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search?q=Marcus+Garvey
· Posts About Bob Marley: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search?q=Bob+Marley
· Posts From Caribbean and South Florida Writers: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search?q=In+My+Own+Words
· Posts About Caribbean Writers: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search?q=Caribbean+Writers
· Interviews With Caribbean Writers: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search?q=Five+Questions+With
· A Conversation With: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search?q=A+Conversation+With
· Birthday Posts: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search/label/Happy%20Birthday
I have also participated in a few podcasts, although some of them have been lost in the ether: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search/label/podcast
In the next few days, I will switch many posts to Vocal, where I have written haiku, a short story, and a few bad limericks. I've decided to make this switch for several reasons:
· Active community:
Vocal has a large and engaged community of writers and readers, meaning others are likelier to see and read my posts. It provides me with a broader reach than I would have on a personal blog.
· User-friendly interface:
Vocal's interface is designed to be easy to use, making it simple for me to create and publish my content. But most importantly, Vocal compensates writers for their work. For every 1,000 views my posts receive, I will earn $3.80. Additionally, I will earn $0.10 for every share my posts receive. Vocal also offers readers the opportunity to actively support writers by tipping. I plan to use the earnings to help with my travel expenses for research, book promotions, and especially for Archipelagos.
I will continue writing One Minute Book Reviews, announcements about book publications and fairs, and interviews with Caribbean Writers. You can find them on my blog at the following links:
· One Minute Book Reviews: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/2023/05/one-minu
· Book Publications and Fairs: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search?q=Book+launch
· Interviews with Caribbean Writers: https://geoffreyphilp.blogspot.com/search?q=Five+Questions+With
In the meantime, I invite you to visit my page on Vocal. If you enjoy a haiku or story, you can subscribe, share it on social media, or leave a tip.
See you on Vocal!
#BlackMemoryMatters
#CaribbeanCulture
#CaribbeanLiterature
#VocalPlatform
#SupportWriters
#AmplifyBlackVoices
October 27, 2006
Five Questions With Marlon James
Marlon James was born in Kingston, Jamaica in 1970. His debut novel, John Crow's Devil, was an Editor's Choice in the New York Times Book Review and a finalist for both the Commonwealth Writers' Prize and the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. He lives in Kingston.Captain Beefheart
I was also listening to Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica. My book's first quote: 'Three Little Children with doves on their shoulders/ They're counting out the devil with three fingers on their hands" comes from that album. Trout Mask Replica sounds like the ramblings of a deranged, defrocked Southern Baptist preacher and the band sounds like lunatics all making their own record at the same time. Not for the fainthearted, of course, but probably one of only two times I thought rock music genuinely approached poetry, which leads to...
Patti Smith: Horses. I throw this record away every year. Every time I listen to it I can hear her saying "I'm at 10 and you're still at 4, so step up," to which I shrivel up in cowardice and throw the record away. But then I always buy it back with two months. The rest: Bjork: Homogenic, Prince, Sign O' the Times, John Coltrane, Blue Train, Miles Davis, Sketches of Spain
2. How did you come up with the name Gibbeah?
Next Week Friday. Five Questions With Sandra Castillo, author of My Father Sings to my Embarassment.
October 20, 2006
Five Questions With Barbra Nightingale
1. Which author and/or book has most influenced you?
The Source byJames Michener, Henderson, the Rain King by Saul Bellow and Sylvia Plath's Ariel probably influenced me the most.
2. How has living and working in South Florida shaped your work?
I am very aware of my natural surroundings in Florida; the heat, the heavy air, the closeness of the moon, the song of the stars. And clouds. Clouds here seem to figure in my work a lot, along with the sea. Also, my best friends in Florida are all poets and the community here has inspired me like nowhere else.
3. Why did you choose the name "Miranda" for your poetic alter ego?
Miranda is a name that came to me in 1981. I have no idea why. It just popped into my head. I liked the syllabic sound of it, but there was really no consciousness in choosing the name. After about 30 or 40 Miranda poems, though, I did start thinking about the connections between Miranda Rights (the right to remain silent--or NOT--) seemed to have special significance.
4. "Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within"-- James Baldwin. How does this relate to your poetry?
Because I love what I do (work with words), I use poetry in that same way, as a way to take off the masks, allow the REAL emotions or truths, mostly emotional truths whether the situation is fictional or not, to shine through.
5. What role does myth play in your poetry?
I think that my knowledge of myth and fairy tale has always fed into my poetry, even in the most oblique ways; just in the story telling and suspense and layers of meaning if nothing else.
6. What makes you laugh?
MYSELF. All my silly little foibles, insecurities, mistakes. Life. Love. Everyone.
Monday. In My Own Words: Pam Mordecai, author of Pink Icing
Friday. Five Questions With Marlon James.
September 1, 2006
Five Questions With Ricardo Pau-Llosa
Ricardo Pau-Llosa was born in La Habana, Cuba in 1954 and, after the age of six, grew up in exile in the United States. He is the author of five books of poetry: The Mastery Impulse (Carnegie Mellon, 2003), Vereda Tropical, (Carnegie Mellon, 1999), Cuba (the 100th title in the Carnegie Mellon Poetry Series, 1993), Bread of the Imagined (Bilingual Press, 1992), and Sorting Metaphors (Anhinga Prize, 1983). His forthcoming collection, The Parable Hunter, will be published by Carnegie Mellon in 2008. Pau-Llosa has published extensively on the visual arts, particularly 20th century Latin American painting and sculpture.1. Which author and/or book has most influenced you?
Aside from the classics and 'canon' writers. Influence occurs mostly in one's early maturity (college years)--so the modern writers I read with most enthusiasm at that stage and to which I return with fondness to this day (this may or may not translate into 'influence') were: Wallace Stevens, Pablo Neruda, Jorge Luis Borges, Richard Wilbur, Rainer Maria Rilke, Federico Garcia Lorca, Derek Walcott, Ted Hughes, James Dickey--these are not in any order of importance. Philosophers and historians were just as important--Empiricists, Edmund Husserl, Martin Heidegger, Paul Ricoeur, C.S. Peirce, Fernand Braudel, Frances Yates, Otto Rank, Elias Canetti, Mircea Eliade.
2. How has living and working in South Florida shaped your work?
As a Cuban-American who identifies entirely with the exile experience, I'd say it has impacted me quite a lot. Miami had, may still have, the potential to combine epic and theater, if it took consciousness of it--no theater without self-awareness of theatricality. Exile, not nostalgia, was the driving plot, for exile is a battlefield and nostalgia a tea room. Miami refuses to assume this invitation to greatness.
3. Unlike many other Cuban-American poets, your poems about Cuba are rarely nostalgic. Indeed, they sometimes seem combative. Do you agree? If so, to what do you owe this difference in tone and style?
The poet is always an advocate--in the legal sense. Sometimes you prosecute, sometimes you defend your client. But you're always arguing with images and against them.
4. “Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history.” ~Plato, Ion. How would you apply this to your work, especially to the sense of history that informs most of your work?
Never cared for Either/Or's. If truth is a city, it can be arrived at by air, sea and land. And abandoned just as easily. In fact, even easier. It is the city you can abandon and think you're still residing in it.
5. Over the years your poems have undergone a transformation from the cryptic lines in Sorting Metaphors to a looser, expansive style in The Mastery Impulse. To what do you attribute this change?
Got older, read more, wrote more, got less energy with which to struggle with the erotic obscurity of cryptic lines.
(Optional) What makes you laugh?
Reading my old poems. And they get old pretty quick, too.
Tags:
Miami
Caribbean writers
Poetry
poetry blog
poet blog
Cuban-American writers
Authors
South Florida writers
Caribbean literature
Ricardo Pau-Llosa
Kwame Dawes
April 29, 2021
Five Questions With Celia A. Sorhaindo
1. When did you first know you wanted to be a writer?
I have a difficult relationship with labels like “writer” or “poet.” Definitions and meanings vary so widely; I’m never really sure what is meant or not meant by the person asking. Labels also often draw a finite inclusion and exclusion line, and, in my experience, things are never that simple. At the simplest level, a writer is just someone who writes, something I would encourage everyone to try at some point in their life, without thinking about “being a writer” or who your reader will be.
I recently read an interview with Kwame Dawes where he said, “Poets are priests of language, and that title has to be earned.” So, with all that in mind, I don’t think I’ve yet categorically said to myself, “I want to be a writer,” and these days, I’m not often in a hurry to call, label or tag myself anything, except the full name my parents gave me.
But for sure, I do think there was a point a few years ago when I felt a
compulsion, an overspilling, to voice something and seek to improve the
way I could express myself in a literary form. At the time, I wasn’t really
clear what I wanted to say or why, but poetry was the form that I felt drawn
to.
Although I have been an avid reader from an early age, my career background is computer programming, so I am relatively new to the whole literary world and am still learning and understanding what exactly being “a writer” means, in terms of a vocation; and understanding all the complexities and the business part of becoming/being a writer.
For now, I am just enjoying the journey of “poeting,” learning all the various aspects of the craft and seeing where things lead.
2. How have you developed as a writer?
I think my writing development goes hand in hand with my self/character development and personal and spiritual growth; the two cannot be easily separated for me. As I become more comfortable and confident in myself and more comfortable and confident with the tools of poetry and what I can do with them, so my writing has developed, and I take more risks on the page.
With all its horrors, the pandemic has led to a host of online workshops, open mics, events like poetry readings and literary festivals, virtual spaces to share, discuss and connect with other writers and writing communities, and a host of other opportunities. All of these have helped to improve my craft and my confidence. I have also been reading poetry voraciously from a diverse range of poets, and other articles that catch my interest, not just literary ones, from quantum physics to the amazing life and anatomy of an octopus. I assume it’s the same for everyone.
Writing draws on so many different inputs. Since school, I have had very little formal literary training, so the internet and books have been my key resources.
3. What was the most challenging part of writing Guabancex?
Writing Guabancex was cathartic. It might seem a weird thing to say, as the collection deals with what happened during and after the traumatic event of Hurricane Maria, but working through the complex, conflicting, and confusing mix of emotions and thoughts through the potent craft of poetry was very empowering and gave me a lot of joy, release, and clarity. Also, the alchemy, transmutation, of something aesthetically beautiful being created from the debris and devastation; holding the physical book in my hand at the end was life-affirming. To paraphrase Kamau Brathwaite, I, too, believe art can come out of catastrophe.
Some of the challenges with writing the poems were the vulnerability I felt using the lyric “I,” when the speaker was not necessarily a factual “Me,” and tackling some of the more complex topics or themes that might have been viewed as “political.” I had to take some deep breaths and resist self-censoring.
Another equally challenging aspect, which I never even considered, was how I would feel “performing” some of the poems; first because performing to an audience is still not an aspect that I’m not comfortable with, and secondly, I found it difficult to “embody” some of the personas in the poem, some of the tragic emotions, performing trauma or sadness; especially when that is not how I felt at the time, years after writing the poems.
I was also conscious of not wanting to re-traumatize anyone who had experienced a hurricane. In addition, hearing about, or seeing the impact of some of the poems on audiences and readers, was unexpectedly complex to deal with emotionally; like hearing a poem made someone cry, or having people feel sorry for me, or for “my Grandmother,” when the Grandmother persona was not a “real” person but drawn from the real and the imaginary. It was emotionally confusing.
There are a whole host of things that happen after you publish a book that I did not have a clue about, so it’s been a steep learning curve and sometimes an uncomfortable one; especially being “visible” when you are a natural introvert and being expected to articulate yourself clearly.
4. What is the most important lesson you have learned from writing Guabancex?
That I have no control over how my work will be read or received once it is “out there”; who will read it, what will be read into it, how readers and critics will respond to it - and that I have to learn to be comfortable with all of that; especially as it can often be a positive and nourishing experience to read or hear how your words have been received.
Also, to trust and have courage as much as possible, going into the unknown. My major life lessons time and time again have been that life will take you down paths you could never have imagined, positive and not so positive, and one thing definitely leads to another; a constant ripple of cause and effect or effect and cause, which is unavoidable, and perhaps necessary for experiential learning and growing.
Lastly, that the promotion of a book takes a lot of hard work and effort, is a whole complex science by itself, and requires skills and a mindset/character disposition that seem at times in opposition to the writing process; all made more “interesting” during a pandemic and when your book is themed around a devastating hurricane. Again, the process sometimes left me feeling conflicted.
5. What are you working on now?
I wish there were a different word we could use besides “working,” again because there are so many expectations and connotations to the word “work”; there is a lot of joy in crafting and creating as well as the hard work, which sometimes doesn’t get talked about. Also, “poeting” for me, is not something separate from living and “being,” so my practice as a daily ritual means paying attention/listening/observing, reading (tons of that), thinking/reflecting/imagining (a lot of that too), writing, and following where my curiosity leads; as well as all the other mechanics of improving my craft and being part of a writing community.
I have no formal writing background, so I have a lot of catching up to do, especially with reading poetry, essays, and other literary material. I’m also trying to familiarise myself with the host of literary journals, finding the good fits, and investigating if and how a living can be “earned.” I also have a pre-Guabancex collection I have been having fun with for several years, but she’s starting to get stage fright as she feels she will be compared to Guabancex, and she is a different child, birthed at a different time in my life.
About the Author
Celia A. Sorhaindo was born in The Commonwealth of Dominica. She migrated with
her family to England in 1976, when she was eight years old, returning home in
2005. Her poems have been published in several Caribbean journals, Anomaly,
New Daughters of Africa Anthology, and longlisted for the UK National
Poetry Competition. She is co-compiler of Home Again: Stories of
Migration and Return, published by Papillote Press, and her first poetry
chapbook collection, Guabancex, also published by Papillote Press, was
longlisted for the 2021 OCM Bocas Prize for Caribbean Literature.
http://www.celiasorhaindo.com/
October 6, 2006
Five Questions With Colin Channer
1. You have recently started teaching fiction at Medgar Evans College. How is this different from teaching workshops?
I haven’t noticed a significant difference really. Writers are writers. Students are students. Well, I got ahead of myself right there. As a professor I have to maintain a greater social distance from the students. We can’t exactly go for a drink after class. In a college setting I also have to deal with grading and taking the roll and that kind of thing and making a big deal about absences and lateness.
2. In your story, “How to Beat a Child the Right and Proper Way,” you address the theme of child abuse. What has been the reaction to this issue?
Oh people love this story. Almost every review of Iron Balloons singles it out. It’s not so much a story about child abuse as you put it though. Very few people read it that way. They read it as a story about a clash of cultural values, parental anxiety about the social advancement of their children, mother-daughter tensions, and the peculiar way in which teenagers, especially girls are capable of pushing their parents to the limits of anger. Most readers side with the mother, even those who’d never take a belt to their child under any circumstance. The story allows them to see however, why this specific mother would beat this specific child this way on that specific evening.
3. The Calabash Literary Festival continues to be a success. Do you have any plans to expand or do you think, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”?
I don’t think we need to get any bigger. There are not many places in the world where writers read before an audience that can reach 3,500. I dismiss call calls to make the festival larger in the same way that I dismiss the penis enlargement ads that turn up in my inbox every day.
4. Strong women have always played a part in all your work and unlike many male novelists, you don’t shy away from female characters. What’s wrong with you?
I’m every woman. It’s all in me. I have found that I write male and female characters equally well and so I write a lot of female characters. I don’t make a real distinction between them. I know women as well as I know men, or at least I think I do. I am like a ball player who can kick and throw with either leg or arm with the same amount of power, accuracy and strength.
Every writer has a standard for vetting story ideas, or at least I think they do (or should). For me it comes down to this, an interesting person who wants an interesting thing for an interesting reason. Weak women are not interesting so they’re not worth placing at the center of a narrative.
5. Describe your experience in editing Iron Balloons? Do you have any other plans for more anthologies?
It was hard. I’d never edited an anthology before. But as always, when I have difficulty with anything I turn to Kwame. He helped me a lot. But I also have to say that I also got a lot of help from the publisher and editor in chief of Akashic Books, Johnny Temple. In the end I simply worked like a selector on a champion sound or a great reggae producer. I picked the best selections and put them in what I considered to be the best sequence.



