#5. Brown Girl in the Ring, by Nalo Hopkinson
Brown Girl in the Ring, Nalo Hopkinson
1998
Well, I see that Nalo Hopkinson is very popular here. I have had several of her books on my to-read list for years, so I began with this one.
My feelings about the book are mixed -- it definitely shows many of the signs of a first novel, including some very clumsily worded passages, and a lot of filtering-type language ("Ti-Jeanne thought... Ti-Jeanne felt... Ti-Jeanne heard XX say..."), as well as some info-dumping ("Ti-Jeanne knew...") But the setting, and the cultural and political backdrop, are so new and so vibrant -- fully felt, deeply realized and believed in -- that the book has some very strong bones, despite the occasional infelicities.
I suspect there is definitely a lot to think and write about regarding marginality in this book; there's a quote from Hopkinson in my copy about the irony of the fact that science fiction focuses so hard on the experience of alienation, but hardly ever gives voice to the actual populations of the world who are actually marginalized. Hopkinson's future Toronto (or the part of it we're concerned with, the inner city, or "Burn," that has developed within the "Ring" as those with resources fled out to the suburbs) is composed of people who don't today form the 'mainstream' of Toronto's culture -- they are immigrants, people of color, and/or people who speak different languages or a different dialect from Toronto's official standard English. (This, at least, is my assumption; I could be wrong -- I have heard it said that today's Toronto is already the most ethnically diverse city in the world.) And there is a lot of life taking place within doors, or behind doors -- a healing garden behind the house, a place of healing or temple that you need to know where to find, gangster operations in places both obvious and unexpected. When you think about that alongside the visible/invisible aspects of the religious magic that is a central theme and action of the piece (deities acting through the voices and bodies of humans, invisible spirits on the hunt for blood, a spell that conceals you "halfway in Guinea Land" so that people walk around you and can't remember having seen you)... I can't figure out how I was going to end that sentence. I think "It seems interesting" approximates it. :)
Like others, I am also much struck by Hopkinson's use of language in her dialogue. Not really in her prose in general; I read she is the daughter of a poet, but irrespective her prose isn't particularly poetic. In this book I find it mostly workhorse, startling at its best, clumsy or laboring at its worst. I'm assuming that gets more polished as she gains experience. The characters' dialogue is really fascinating to me, though. I have done a little looking-up of this, but I have not been able to find any discussion of her characters' dialect more specific than "Caribbean creole," which I will readily believe it is; but I would really like to find out more precisely where from. Is it a mash-up of a variety of Caribbean creoles and patois/patwas? (Hopkinson's own biography says that she lived in Jamaica, Trinidad, and Guyana -- as well as Connecticut and Toronto -- but that doesn't exactly pin things down.)
Anyway. An interesting book, and I will look forward to seeing how Hopkinson's style develops as she progresses in her career. Two and a half or three stars out of five, I think: two or two and a half for execution and technique, and three and a half for power and potential.
(ETA: Oh! And I am also going to read Derek Walcott's "Ti-Jean and His Brothers," which ought to shed further light.)
1998
Well, I see that Nalo Hopkinson is very popular here. I have had several of her books on my to-read list for years, so I began with this one.
My feelings about the book are mixed -- it definitely shows many of the signs of a first novel, including some very clumsily worded passages, and a lot of filtering-type language ("Ti-Jeanne thought... Ti-Jeanne felt... Ti-Jeanne heard XX say..."), as well as some info-dumping ("Ti-Jeanne knew...") But the setting, and the cultural and political backdrop, are so new and so vibrant -- fully felt, deeply realized and believed in -- that the book has some very strong bones, despite the occasional infelicities.
I suspect there is definitely a lot to think and write about regarding marginality in this book; there's a quote from Hopkinson in my copy about the irony of the fact that science fiction focuses so hard on the experience of alienation, but hardly ever gives voice to the actual populations of the world who are actually marginalized. Hopkinson's future Toronto (or the part of it we're concerned with, the inner city, or "Burn," that has developed within the "Ring" as those with resources fled out to the suburbs) is composed of people who don't today form the 'mainstream' of Toronto's culture -- they are immigrants, people of color, and/or people who speak different languages or a different dialect from Toronto's official standard English. (This, at least, is my assumption; I could be wrong -- I have heard it said that today's Toronto is already the most ethnically diverse city in the world.) And there is a lot of life taking place within doors, or behind doors -- a healing garden behind the house, a place of healing or temple that you need to know where to find, gangster operations in places both obvious and unexpected. When you think about that alongside the visible/invisible aspects of the religious magic that is a central theme and action of the piece (deities acting through the voices and bodies of humans, invisible spirits on the hunt for blood, a spell that conceals you "halfway in Guinea Land" so that people walk around you and can't remember having seen you)... I can't figure out how I was going to end that sentence. I think "It seems interesting" approximates it. :)
Like others, I am also much struck by Hopkinson's use of language in her dialogue. Not really in her prose in general; I read she is the daughter of a poet, but irrespective her prose isn't particularly poetic. In this book I find it mostly workhorse, startling at its best, clumsy or laboring at its worst. I'm assuming that gets more polished as she gains experience. The characters' dialogue is really fascinating to me, though. I have done a little looking-up of this, but I have not been able to find any discussion of her characters' dialect more specific than "Caribbean creole," which I will readily believe it is; but I would really like to find out more precisely where from. Is it a mash-up of a variety of Caribbean creoles and patois/patwas? (Hopkinson's own biography says that she lived in Jamaica, Trinidad, and Guyana -- as well as Connecticut and Toronto -- but that doesn't exactly pin things down.)
Anyway. An interesting book, and I will look forward to seeing how Hopkinson's style develops as she progresses in her career. Two and a half or three stars out of five, I think: two or two and a half for execution and technique, and three and a half for power and potential.
(ETA: Oh! And I am also going to read Derek Walcott's "Ti-Jean and His Brothers," which ought to shed further light.)