Signifyin' Guyana

Million-airing it out in Jamaica

Big Jamaican guy--well, Jamaican from New York, to be exact--was strutting around the resort last summer, talking about how he'd be a millionaire if he moved to Jamaica and could somehow still earn his New York salary.  "I could be living like two king out here," he said, curling up his big lips like an exclamation point.  Somebody, no ehhhvrybody in the group wanted to say Oh really, Mr. Moneybags?  And what about New York court-mandated childcare payments for the five or so children you'll be leaving behind in new York?  Add that to your Caribbean luxury life and see how far your money will stretch then.

But we didn't actually say that.  We were on vacation--we transplanted Caribbean / West Indian people--so we dreamed right along with him...

And when we returned to New York, we continued to look for ways to escape this place and "go back"...

--In our close-knit, closed-off Guyanese communities in Brooklyn and Queens

--Playing mas in cold places dressed in turtle necks

--Stocking up on island patties, frozen stiff in a box

But it ain't so straightforward.  We love how far we've come and can go in this place...

--Look!  That woman in a major role in that primetime TV show is GUYANESE!

--Listen to that sweet Trini accent denouncing that political candidate for Mayor of New York and commanding the attention of many!

--Girl what you waiting for?  Call your grandmother in Antigua and tell her you just won a coveted scholarship to that top university!

--Carib ID 2010 !

Truth is, most of us don't really want to pack up traps and go back physically.  We still see and remember the unchecked corruption, the lawlessness, the reality that too often you have to know somebody who is somebody to get ahead, the men who put deh hand on you with impunity, the ignorance... And somehow all of that overshadows any real desire to return.

So we lay on the beach last summer--comebackees (hate that one), transplants, generous remittance givers, familiar to the locals, and strange as well--counting and converting currency in our heads, counting the possibilities, but eventually getting right back on the plane and forgetting about it til next time. 

Our message would be something like this Hey Caribbean, we love you; we really do.  But we're not coming back to stay.  Well, who knows, maybe Mr. Moneybags Millionaire was serious.   

What would be the first line(s) of your autobiography?

I try not to think much about my own mortality.  I guess because the length of time I'd like to spend on this earth is too ridiculous for even me to seriously think about too often.  And I guess I don't want to jinx my secret desires. 

The brave writer who dares to write his or her life story is (I suppose) thinking about and preparing for the inevitability of his or her death.  I've always thought of autobiography as an attempt to leave behind--forever in memoriam--something more or less truthful about one's existence.

If you were to take on the task of memorializing your own life in an autobiographical work, what would be the first lines of that autobiography?

Here are some good ones I've seen.

A psychoanalytical mix of perspectives in Roland Barthes, by Roland Barthes:

--To begin with, some images: they are the author's treat to himself, for finishing his book.  His pleasure is a matter of fascination (and thereby quite selfish).  I have kept only the images which enthrall me, without my knowing why (such ignorance is the very nature of fascination, and what I shall say about each image will never be anything but . . . imaginary).

Poetry in Journey to Le Repentir, by Mark McWatt:

--This is my song of the universe, of the past / that is now and the future that is never...

From E.A. Markham's Against the Grain:

--I was going east, and apparently no one went east.  Too dangerous.  I was fed-up with being cossetted; so I was quite psyched up to be going into the danger zone, against the advice of everyone.

And, one of a hundred possibilities for the beginning of mine:

Along with pirated TV images of America, my early visions of the world were influenced by projected wall film, lines on chalk boards, school desk and bathroom "art," Playboy, Penthouse, and other assorted good literature, of course.

Repost (with an update)

I updated this post to protect myself from being associated with Guyana911.blogspot[dot]com and from being included in any potential lawsuit involving the blog and the blogger.

http://signifyinguyana.typepad.com/signifyin_guyana/2009/10/dealing-once-again-with-a-public-nuisance.html

Reclaiming my face

One of the downsides of having a public image (picture included) is the possibility that that image will be abused by mean-spirited folk.  That's just par for the course I have chosen.  To combat the misuse of my identity, I've decided to add a picture of me to this blog, and to my Twitter page. 

Please note: Copyright to the poems, prose, and images posted here at signifyinguyana.typepad[dot]com is retained by the individual authors and artists. All other writing and images are copyright © 2009 by Charmaine Valere (c.d.valere).  All rights reserved.

(It's cold in my office here at home.)

   

(And sometimes I work in my pajamas...complete with earrings.)

Is it really theft if you steal it from a blog?

Annie Paul asked (on Twitter): "What are protocols for blog consolidators who use your posts without your name appearing along with your post?"

Nicholas Laughlin responded: "Copyright is copyright, and reproducing in full is not covered by fair use..."

And the exchange got me swearing up and down that I'll never again publish anyone's poem in its entirety (though I've always been careful to include names, titles, and links where possible).  I've been informed that posting a poem in its entirety diminishes the value of the overall collection.

The exchange also made me think about this situation...

What if you logged on to your favourite social networking site one day and discovered the talk was all about a brilliant newspaper article, and when you checked out the article it closely resembled something you had written online a few months prior?  Would you just brush it aside and consider it mere coincidence?  Given that general scenario, a rational thinking person would probably do just that . . . brush it aside . . . call it mere coincidence.  But what if there's more to the scenario?

Some may assume the internet is a vast global place where good and bad blog writing go off to die more or less anonymously, and where blogs and such are not as noticeable as established newspapers, magazines, journals, and the like.  So what if one were to pinch from something one saw on a blog? Who'd care?  Well, if the internet is as vast as some assume, then the pincher may well get away with such an act.  But the truth is most of us who use the internet tend to visit and interact with the same sites and people regularly--the sites covering topics related to who we are and what we like to do.  And of course that's how internet communities are created.

So back to the case I mentioned earlier.  What if the writer of the "brilliant" article and you were part of such an internet community?  What if the chances of him / her having read your article were highly likely?

I'm not writing this to attack anyone in particular, even though I've experienced the above situation.  As startled as I was at the article's similarity to mine, I had to force myself to remember that similar ideas strike people all the time and though I may have said it first within our internet community, that may not necessarily mean the person deliberately stole my idea.  It may have simply been a case of mild pinching.

But though I'm willing to be generous about the issue, copyright violation is still a troubling one on the internet.  It may range from the kinder gentler unauthorized cross postings (where websites "host" your blog to add to their site's content FOR FREE) to instances of outright theft, where people use content from your blog without linking or attributing the source.  Some people don't seem to think copyright laws governing offline publications apply to the internet.

The rules governing theft of offline material are pretty clear.  If you take words verbatim (or in poorly disguised paraphrasing form) from some place else and pass them off as your own, you're plagiarizing, and the penalties could be pretty stiff.  Folks have been fired from academia and from media jobs for plagiarism, and others have been publicly embarrassed and have had their offending work pulled from shelves by publishers and book sellers.

In academia, to avoid repeating someone else's thesis, one is required to do thorough research and acknowledge those who said something similar.  The ultimate goal in much of academic writing is of course to say something new, and prove that it is new.  But even they don't always accomplish the task of saying something new every time.

It would be unreasonable to expect anyone to say something new all the time.  I certainly don't claim to always do so on this blog, but I do attribute my sources when I use them, and I expect anyone who borrows something I say here or over at Baiganchoka to kindly cite the source.

If we can't rely on folks to be honorable about citing internet sources, and about asking for permission to use content, then . . . well, let's just hope it doesn't get to this.

Rebels and uniforms

"That uniform is gonna make us all look like fat geeks," she said.

She was one of a group of students at my son's school who had signed a petition declaring their disagreement with the school's proposal to introduce uniforms.  Their most vehement point (fat and geeky aside) was that uniforms take away individuality and help to kill free expression--their greatest right as American citizens.

Poor babies.  I saw the uniform proposed and I imagine they'd find it hard to be rogues in burgundy, emblem-ed, polo shirts, loose-fitting khaki pants, and black shoes.  How on earth would it look hanging out and trying to cause trouble in such garb!?  And imagine the difficulty of having to blend a school-shirking friend from another school (or from wherever) into the crowd!  Of course, those (I imagine) are the unspoken secret concerns of some of the students.  Outwardly, the main protest was based on the ever precious right of the individual to free expression.

American pop culture has its fair share of the rogue idol.  He is often known by his first name only--Jimmy, Fonzie, Kanye.  He is given clever barbs and amazing come-backs.  He has been deemed the picture envisioned by the founding fathers in their description of the individual deserving of all those inalienable rights.  And I'm sure the students outraged at the uniform proposal could easily cite many examples of individuals they admire in the fare they are offered on TV, in books, and on the silver screen, who have successfully defied some attempt to make them act or appear like sheep.

But I could have told them about some of the esteemed trouble makers I knew who wore full school uniform--hat, tie, skirt below-the-knees, stiff white shirt, seamed pant...

One was Patrick.

He strode up to the podium, tall, dark, confident, neat in his sixth form uniform, fresh from leading his debate team to victory in an interschool competition.  Many of us who were younger were unable to fully grasp the analogy he made in describing a Machiavellian Prince in the Caribbean, but from the rapt nervous attention he was being given by the teachers seated behind us, we knew the speech wasn't only good, but dangerously defiant.

I could also have told those young anti-uniform-ites that sometimes uniforms are disguised as freely chosen clothing, and sometimes uniformity takes other forms than clothing, but they serve the same purpose--they label, they suggest conformity, they confirm identity--and that one's "uniforms" are even likely to change as one ages.

A character in Pauline Melville's Eating Air notes the uniforms of the young capitalists around him: "...the pony-tailed hedge-fund managers and punk investment bankers who were hang-gliding to work; the global head-hunters with aviator dark glasses and red braces who sang gangsta-rap lyrics in their lunch breaks and exchanged high-fives with street gangs as they roller-bladed into the City..." and he is saddened that capitalism (in his view) has been mistaken for freedom.

But isn't he really just witnessing a younger generation's take on what it means to be free and revolutionary?

I wish I could have explained all of that to the young revolutionaries at my son's school who think trading their disguised uniformed jeans and hoodies for a more recognizable polo and khaki look would completely ruin their lives.  But instead I checked the yes boxes and in doing so joined the chorus of parents and teachers who for the moment can dictate exactly what those young revolutionaries will be wearing to school for the next few years of their lives.

I saw Patrick recently...late forties, married, two children, shiny SUV, great city job, comfy suburban home, regular family vacations, fat with too much good food and drink and little or no exercise.  I reminded him of that speech he gave, and he laughed and said now he only talks like that at reunion gatherings when he's full of piss and liquor.  I laughed too, but I hope he felt as sad as I did about that.  I felt like stamping a sign on his fat belly that said: "I was once a brilliant rogue in a high school uniform." 

Why review?

--To tell the world (or as many people as possible) about a great book you read?

--To tell (same world or less) about a book whose author should be flogged to just within inches of his life, and then be made to replant all the trees wasted in the book's publication?

Yes and yes.  More often than not the books I read get me so excited (did I mention I am a book lover?) I want as many people as possible to read them and hopefully have the same great experience I had.  Notice I said hopefully.  After all, I could only hope the person(s) to whom I recommend a book enjoy(s) it as much as I did.  Nothing sure about that.

And likewise, there are those times when I want to share the shortcomings of a book in a way that is fair to the writer, but true to my opinion of it.  (I never...okay, I rarely ever recommend a writer be flogged for a lousy book.  Planting trees, now that's a good idea.)  Of course it's tougher to have a good outcome--chagrined writer, justified reviewer, grateful readers (best scenario)--in response to an unfavorable review.  That may be the reason some reviewers avoid saying anything about a book they don't like, or why some try to cushion any blow with vague descriptions like "puzzling," "not my taste," "not his/her best work," and other such language.  Some reviewers also try to suggest reasons (excuses for) why a book may be less than stellar.  And then of course there are those reviewers who just seem to gleefully pounce on the offending book and beat it and the writer bloody (A lot of violence in my writing today, ain't it?  I may be feeling her influence :-)

The fact is, all reviewers, like all books and writers, aren't equal.  At one extreme are those reviewers who are clearly no more than publicists writing gushy reviews to promote book sales.  At the other extreme are those who can't hide the chip on their shoulders about writers and publishers and delight in finding fault with every book they read.  Between the extremes there's still a lot of shady ground associated with motive and the need for moonlighting or freelance work for writers / book reviewers.  All of that is probably why some people take book reviews with a fat pinch of salt (or a dose of salts, depending on which end of the anatomy they think needs the most help processing the review).

A friend of mine said he doesn't read my reviews because he considers them a whole load of butt-kissing. Don't cry for me.  He's a sweetie really, and I truly dig the fact that he tells me exactly how he feels.  Well, most of the time.  But on with my opinion...

I usually tread a fine line here with my reviews.  You see, it's not only the reviewers and writers who are unequal (in terms of knowledge, writing skills, and what not), the marketplaces for books are also glaringly unequal.  Even in this space where I review/feature--this cyber-constructed Caribbean space--I am aware that the marketplace for Caribbean books is a small one.  Many of the books I review/feature/and tweet about by Caribbean writers are yet to find a consistently interested, buying Caribbean readership here outside of the Caribbean (read Caribbean Book Blog for more on book marketing/publishing issues within and outside the Caribbean). 

So here's my dilemma: part of what I see myself doing here is helping to create a marketplace for the books I review and feature.  But it ain't easy.  So when I berate a book, I feel I'm helping to make it less buyable in a very stingy marketplace.  And I don't feel good about that at all.

But even with the serious considerations for marketplace and readership, I still do my best to be honest about any book I review here.  Understand this disclaimer though: my reviews /analyses are solely based on the text, and what I see there (unless otherwise noted) is entirely my interpretation.

So if you think you see kiss-ass, gush, what-de-eff-she-talking-bout-she-musse-hate-he in any review, then just nod your head and smile.  But please buy the book and check it out for yourself.

And here's a parting gift from John Steinbeck for the writer who just can't seem to separate his or her sense of self from the writing (good or bad) he or she produces:

Writing to me is a deeply personal, even a secret function, and when the product I [turn] loose [is] cut off from me, I have no sense of [it] being mine.  Consequently, criticism doesn't mean anything to me.  As a disciplinary matter, it is too late.

 

The Caribbean Review of Books, Issue 20: Quotable quotes (part 2)

Andre Bagoo on Trinidad Noir:

 

Trinidad has been dying for a book like this.  A work of fiction that explicitly attempts--however successfully or not--to tackle the seemingly intractable problem of crime which has seen the island's murder rate shatter records.

Despite his over-the-top opening statement (The whole of Trinidad?  Dying for it?), Bagoo presents a comprehensive discussion of the collection's strengths and weaknesses, and the writers' applications of the Noir genre.  I'm at least encouraged to complete my reading of it.

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[To read the full length of Andre Bagoo's review and other reviews and analyses of Caribbean books, support the CRB by subscribing online at www.caribbeanreviewofbooks.com ]

The Caribbean Review of Books, Issue 20: Quotable quotes (part 1)

Kei Miller on Marlon James's Book of Night Women:

If one were to be pedantic, there are things we could quibble over in James's slave dialect recreation, both as sound and as it appears on the page: the skillful use of the Joycean em-dash to render speech; the colourful vocabulary; a sensibility which at times feels very contemporary--the compromises made for the sake of a wider readership--for instance, the word "nigger" in preference to the more distinctly Jamaican "nayga"; the anachronisms sprinkled throughout: "Say dat over and over till it turn into sankey and yuh soon start believe it" -- this is 1800, forty years before Ira Sankey was even born, let alone penned his book of hymns . . . but does any of this matter one lick?  Resoundingly, it doesn't.  What's more, is it likely that James himself was aware of these anachronisms.  He thankfully understands that the big question we must ask of fiction is not, Is this accurate? but, rather, Does this work?

__________________________

I tend to believe, as Miller points out, many of the anachronisms in the text are carefully constructed with a wide contemporary readership in mind.  I consider myself part of that wide contemporary group.  But, is the book's appeal to us worth the sacrifice of a good review from a "sniffy" stick-to-it reader or two? 

Meanwhile, here's another quotable quote in Issue 20 of the CRB from Andre Bagoo's review of Trinidad Noir.  

[To read the full length of Kei Miller's review and other reviews and analyses of Caribbean books, support the CRB by subscribing online at www.caribbeanreviewofbooks.com ]

Dealing (once again) with a public nuisance

I, Charmaine Valere, am in no way associated with Guyana911.blogspot[dot]com.  The picture of me on the blog's masthead is a completely dishonest representation, and a violation of my copyright to the picture.  I am not, and have never been, the author or a contributor there.

And if you're interested in finding out who blogs at Guyana911.blogspot[dot]com, check out the IP addresses listed on the site's dossier, and compare with the IP addresses listed for Ruel Johnson's blog cumae.blogspot[dot]com here on his site's dossier.  Though there are other Guyanese blogs listed on the same IP, the only Guyanese blogger on the list with whom I have had an ongoing feud over my comments on his writing, and who I would certainly consider an enemy, is Ruel Johnson.

This is the picture that should be on the blog.