Each story in the collection (each section of the orange, if you may) can be read and enjoyed separately. They are all engaging narratives and all worth their literary weight structurally and otherwise. But what of the collective effect? Will the reader looking for more than the individual delight of a well-told story, for a collective statement perhaps, find it in Sections of an Orange? Yes. For this reader, the collection can be made whole, the message completely understood, by looking at the role of two stories in the collection. The first is the story of an Old Man--both a larger that life paternal representation of a caring Trinidad, and a down to earth, humble man--who spent a lifetime creating his own paths, "slashing through thickets of what often seemed like the island's indigenous barriers--poverty, classism, jealousy, corruption--and still made his way." All along the way (and standing right beside him) was his wife and love of his life, Marjorie, with whom he had four children. In the story, Marjorie is terminally ill and he spends days preparing and cooking a meal which they sit and eat together for a final time. The story is touching and beautiful, and it also provides poignant messages to the possible gay and straight children of that old man wherever they may be in the diaspora. The messages are about overcoming seemingly insurmountable adversities, about acceptance, and about making lasting familial connections through culture. The second story, which works, like the Old Man's story, to reach across borders and belief systems is one set in New York. The main character, Push, is the Ellisonian invisible man. But unlike his literary predecessor, Push suffers from an embarrassment of riches (so to speak) because he is mistaken for or assumed to be several types of men of colour--men from parts of the Americas, men from Africa, a Rastafarian, a Muslim, and the list goes on. He is able to become the every man of colour simply by changing the length of hair on his head or face, or by the clothes he wears. Push is so overwhelmed by the comic-tragedy of his multiplicity that he longs for the ability to free himself, and (surprisingly) imagines the ultimate condition of freedom to be like a female relative in Trinidad who walks out of an abusive marriage. Push's story, like the Old Man's, communicates powerful messages about making assumptions about a person's identity and about making empathetic connections that may seem unlikely, but that are necessary. Signifyin(caribbean) Conclusion My only quibble with Sections of an Orange is that a sex scene or two seem(s) more aimed at entertainment than at conveying moments of intimacy between the couples involved. This is not to say that there aren't any well-written sex scenes in the collection. There are, which makes lines like the following seem glaringly less than good: "we pull out of the parking lot, from the gravel onto the smooth pavement of Route 1 and Leigh is all trash talk, phone-sex talk, and I'm all soap-opera tease as I push my seat back and lick my lips." Hmmm. Gratuitous (sounding) sex scene aside, I highly recommend Sections of an Orange to my Caribbean people and beyond, for its stories--each possessing something marvel-worthy, and for its voices--young and old, Trini, Trinilyn, or Triniyorker--that collide, connect, abuse, love, question, and share wisdom. [Now on to the author of this intriguing work. Any questions you'd like to ask him?] Continuing from this...