Agymah Kamau has taken the enchantment of a grandmother sitting under a tree telling a story and woven an intriguing and fascinating tale. The story is set in an unnamed West Indian village where there seems to be no separation between the ghosts and the living, the real and the magical. Instead of creating confusion, this technique only adds to the intrigue as we move with the ghost of a narrator from the land of the living to that of the netherworld. Agymah Kamau's first novel is a wonderful introduction to the nuances of Caribbean storytelling. In lively and poetic language, he captures the rhythm of the dialect as he tells of a people thrown into chaos after a foreign preacher and his wife move in, set up a church, and then invite in outsiders who destroy the land searching for gold. They find no gold but conduct further excavation, leveling the land to build a resort. Amidst the outward turmoil, the rumblings of day-to-day life continue: the preacher's wife is adulterous, the government is corrupt, the police brutalize whomever they wish, and a hurricane causes further destruction. An excellent debut; highly recommended for all fiction collections.Corinne Nelson, "Library Journal"
Barbados native Kamau, mixing magic realism and political rhetoric, tries but fails in this first novel to create a searing portrait of oppression on a Caribbean island.
The story is told by the dead grandfather of Cephus, one of the protagonists. Now a spirit, the grandfather keeps a protective eye on his kin and makes judicious appearances to those of the living who have the gift of second sight. He recalls how the island won independence from Britain only to end up with a prime minister, Anthony Roachford, even more oppressive and corrupt than the colonial masters. The tale opens as a white missionary and his wife move in and begin proselytizing. The two are observed with distrust by the locals, like Cephus, a farmer, and Boysie, a former sailor, who as Brethren members worship their ancestors and the old African spirits. Cephus's wife Doreen, in love with Boysie, joins the new church but most remain suspicious of the newcomers. With good reason, too, because Pastor Wright and wayward wife Sandra, who seduces a local lad, are bad news. They're hypocritical and corrupt, and thus fitting representatives of the West, but the local oligarchy is not much better; only the poor are pure. Roachford gives money for a new church while the locals lack housing; a hurricane devastates the region, and no aid is forthcoming; bauxite is discovered but not enough to satisfy those who've invested in the search for it. They decide instead to build a resort on land stolen with the Pastor's connivance. A revolution planned by Cephus and Boysie goes horribly wrong as Roachford gets help from the West; the good and the bad die violently; and all the despairing spirits can do is to remind people of "who they are, where they came from."
Despite the beguilingly effective uses of lyric symbolism and lilting Caribbean speech, the heavy agenda and almost farcically melodramatic plot make for a disappointing debut.
