WHILE I don’t really feel like wasting time re-hashing old ideas I must say that as a black male science fiction reader who began reading in the genre in elementary school, one of the things you come to terms with as you grow up is that the genre at large is both largely Caucasian and largely militaristic. Yes Sci-fi as a whole is a large genre and each author brings their own particular nuances, but like all English language subjects it is dominated by male westerners talking about largely westernized ideas and white futures. (I’ll need another post here soon) In contrast Hopkinson’s debut novel does not feature a single white main character, is inhabited by an impressive pantheon of African mythological figures, and takes place in a decayed urban landscape that is neither ultra futuristic nor ultra alien.
In This breakhrough book by debut author Hopkinson tales the story of Afro-Caribbean mom, Ti-Jeanne and her family and their clash with the corrupt rulers of their burned out and abandoned metropolis. Hopkinson’s debut novel represents itself well as the voice of an Afro-Caribbean writer in a largely western genre. I can say I enjoyed it immensely with it’s intricate weaving of high and low subject matter. Under Hopkinson’s pen we see images such as gyrating zombies being torn from their spirits, we hear the mocking laughter of African God’s dancing on their hands, meanwhile the characters switch between Afro-Caribbean and English, dialect that is tight enough to make the writer in me jealous.
Juxtaposing this vivid mythology is heavy dose of the ultra-mundane. The love affair between our protagonist and her good for nothing boyfriend, the realities of sickness, disease, injury, and child rearing. Hopkinson I feel does a really good job of centering her novel in the everyday world, despite the colorful voudou which TI-Jeanne and her grandma practice, the novel keeps up a strong sense of everyday life and desire gradually mixing this as the novel progresses with the theme of power. And it is the conflict of power that seems to be the driving impetus behind the narrative.
Our protagonist Ti-jeanne, her Grandmother Mami, and her boyfriend Tony quickly find themselves at odds with the main evil of the Burn, the voodoo wielding spirit protected drug lord Rudolph Sheldon. In the burned out and law abandoned Toronto landscape they face off against Sheldon and his posse, who rule without censor, trafficking drugs and committing rampant acts of violence and torture to feed themselves. Utimatley even in it’s most grotesque and tragic parts hopkinson novels reminds about the hidden power and frailty of webs of family relationships and the importance and ramifications of our actions both large and small.
Call it a triumph. I’ve read nothing like it.