Book Review: Michael Manley: The Making Of a Leader by Darrell E. Levi

Michael Manley:

The Making Of a Leader

by Darrell E. Levi

      Jamaica is a nation that got off to a rough start. As a post-colonial Caribbean country granted sovereignty from Great Britain in 1962, they have been plagued by political and economic turbulence ever since. In the 1970s, Jamaicans elected a Prime Minister who was seen as a savior by some and a menace by his opponents. Darrell E. Levi’s Michael Manley: The Making Of a Leader tells his story.

Michael Manley was born into a middle class family of importance to Jamaica’s development. His father founded and ran the left wing People’s National Party (PNP) in opposition to the right wing Jamaican Labor Party (JLP). His mother was a prominent artist and political activist. Manley’s cousin, the conservative and authoritarian Alexander Bustamante, was elected Jamaica’s first post-colonial prime minister in 1962.

During World War II, Michael Manley enlisted in the Canadian air force and then went to university in London. There he worked as a journalist before returning to Jamaica to work as a labor union leader in association with the PNP. He wasn’t just an ordinary union leader though; he rose to prominence because he went on the job and worked side by side with the laborers who were given the most back breaking work in Kingston. He didn’t just show up for photo ops with teams of ditch diggers; he picked up a shovel and helped them dig for as long as their work shifts lasted. He continued in his willingness to get his hands dirty with the most impoverished of workers long after he became a politician. His sincerity took him a long way in Jamaican politics.

Levi doesn’t just tell the story of Michael Manley’s life. He provides a fair amount of context to help people outside the country understand its political climate. He explains the 1960s under Bustamante as a time of uprisings, police brutality, and the West Kingston Wars. Bustamante stayed aloof to Jamaica’s problems as the country struggled to get on its feet. Levi also demonstrates how Jamaican politics differ from those in the developed nations to some degree. It is a system of bicameral parliamentary governance, but with high levels of graft the prime minister makes most decisions unilaterally. Politics are more tribal and territorial, something which has led to gang warfare over the years. Class and ethnicity are closely related; dark skinned, lower class Jamaicans mostly align with the PNP and the light skinned middle and upper classes align with the JLP. In political discourse, passionate speaking is valued more than nuanced debate. Political favors granted to neighborhoods or territories that vote in blocks are common. When one party gets into office, they repay the favor to voters who supported them with things like free food distribution or the upgrading of houses, something denied to neighborhoods that didn’t support the party in power. This sometimes leads to gangs forcing people in their territories to vote at gunpoint for their party of affiliation. Politics are mostly localized with the national government almost exclusively managing affairs in Kingston while paying little attention to the rest of the country. The Rastafarian movement has been most closely affiliated with the PNP and are big supporters of Michael Manley.

Despite Jamaica’s grim political practices, Michael Manley got elected Prime Minister in 1972 on a platform of social justice. Racial equality, worker’s rights, education, and the raising of living standards for the poor were the issues that won him a significant majority. He ruled by committee, setting up community organizations subordinate to the PNP to address all aspects of governing. Manley became massively popular throughout the 1970s despite a long list of political setbacks. His political philosophy was that of democratic socialism. Even though the emphasis was on “democratic”, his practice of soft socialism led him into conflict with the United States who were backing his conservative rival Edward Seaga through affiliations with the CIA. His personal style made him look messianic in the eyes of the lower classes and he earned the nickname Joshua, possibly an influence from the Hebrew-inspired Rastafarians.

Aside from placing social justice at the forefront of Jamaican politics, Manley also played the role of statesman. Levi writes about how Manley brought Jamaica into the post-colonial Non-Aligned Movement of nations that began in Indonesia after World War II. He spoke at the United Nations as an advocate for international cooperation and put Jamaica on the map as a viable participant in world affairs. Some of his alliances proved to be contentious though. Manley kept close ties with Cuba and had a lifelonh friendship with Fidel Castro who never pressured him to turn communist. Manley also maintained diplomatic and trade ties to the Soviet Union. As a result, the USA kept him at an arm’s length despite his desire to make Jamaica a neutral force in the Cold War.

While Jamaica remained a small, impoverished island nation, America could not so easily dismiss Manley. The aluminum industry depended on mining the raw material bauxite there, something they were doing at a very low cost because of Bustamante’s policies in the 1960s. Jamaica owed America money anyhow. Manley borrowed from the World Bank to kick start the Jamaican economy, but when they failed to meet the growth demands set by the IMF, they came close to defaulting on their loan. As Jamaica sank deeper into economic crisis, Manley raised taxes on bauxite exports so the American mining companies withdrew from the island. Even worse, the US placed tariffs on the products Jamaica imported from America, and this led to further economic hardship. Manley picked up some extra money for the nation by building tourist resorts and putting on music festivals, but this was never enough to stabilize the economy, let alone promote its growth.

The CIA were by then backing Manley’s rival Edward Seaga and a fierce propaganda battle ensued that harmed Manley’s stature in the eyes of the middle and upper classes. The CIA imported guns to Jamaica as a plan to destabilize the country with escalating violent crime rates and gang warfare to turn the population against Michael Manley. Assassination attempts against Manley happened three times, all of which he survived.

Manley remained popular though until he lost the election to Seaga in 1982. Seaga remained Prime Minister until the late 1980s. He failed to deliver on his promises to control the crime rate and bring economic prosperity to Jamaica, although he did succeed in building up Jamaica’s infrastructure. Michael Manley returned to power in the election of 1988, but by then the two rival Prime Ministers agreed to stop fighting and worked together to further Jamaica’s development. Manley resigned from the office of prime minster soon after getting re-elected because of health problems. That is something not covered in Levi’s book because this biography ends with Manley’s return to office as prime minster.

Levi’s political biography of Michael Manley is a slow read. That isn’t because it lacks excitement. It actually is an exciting book considering it is about the politics of a nation that is not often discussed in the wider world. It is only slow moving because it is so densely packed with information that it takes a good deal of time to absorb it all. It really is a book worth reading if you want to learn anything about West Indian politics or the economic struggles of the Third World. Otherwise, Darrell Levi is heavily biased in favor of Michael Manley and some people might find fault in that as he doesn’t go deeply into the problems Manley’s shortcomings as a politician. He doesn’t ignore those problems, but he just doesn’t say enough to make this a balanced biography. It would be interesting to learn more about Edward Seaga too since many Jamaicans consider him to be equally important, and controversial, as Michael Manley in the political history of Jamaica.

Michael Manley is presented here as a sincere prime minister with a heart of gold and as an intellectual with a taste for the finer things in life. His biggest crimes were naivete and lacking the pragmatic skills necessary for advancing Jamaica towards being a Caribbean nation of peace and prosperity. He wasn’t entirely to blame for that because Jamaica did not have a history of independent rule to fall back on or to learn from. He did the best he could with what he knew. He was more of a visionary than a politician, but he got others to believe in his vision and sometimes those visions are necessary to instigate action. Jamaica has been through more hard times since Michael Manley died, but his dream isn’t dead.

Recent years have seen an incremental drop in crime and a strengthening middle class due in part to Jamaican immigrants in the US and UK remitting money back home and buying property. Sites associated with Bob Marley are becoming places of pilgrimage and tourist dollars are trickling in. Jamaica has a long way to go still, but with enough economic momentum and the desire to pursue dreams, they just might make it some day. Go visit this interesting country and see for yourself.

 

Book Review & Analysis: A Brief History of Seven Killings by Marlon James

A Brief History of Seven Killings

by Marlon James

      Reggae music exploded in popularity during the 1970s. At the forefront of this musical movement was Bob Marley. Not necessarily the best reggae musician but certainly a great one and the most famous, he was perfect as a leader when it came to bringing reggae to the world. A lot of his softer pop songs had commercial appeal without being shallow or fake like so much top 40 music of the era. But he also had an angry side that was steeped in politics and the mysticism of the Rastafarian religion that appealed to young people moving on from the hippy movement without abandoning their counter cultural stance. Rastafarians were proponents of marijuana smoking and had a distinctly cool image with their dreadlocks and colorful clothes. As Bob Marley’s fame grew internationally, so did interest in Jamaica as an emerging nation, a country with a vibrant music scene and a tourist oriented economy. Reggae also had a strong influence on the punk, ska, and new wave music scenes that began in the mid to late 70s. A lot of reggae lyrics called for peace and love along with laments about violence and political injustice. Probably most reggae listeners weren’t aware of the events and political climate of Jamaica in the 1970s that served as inspiration for those lyrics. Gangs tied to Jamaica’s two political parties were fighting in the streets and Kingston could possibly be thought of as having a low level civil war at the time. Marlon James portrays the violence between Kingston gangs and their relation to Bob Marley in his novel A Brief History of Seven Killings.

Bob Marley is at the center of this novel...kind of. Without being mentioned by name, he is referred to exclusively as The Singer from beginning to end. The novel’s plot lines all relate to an assassination attempt on his life to prevent a free concert, his attempt at ratifying a peace treaty between Jamaica’s gangs, and his death. The Singer’s life is more of a framework for the novel and functions more as the narrative device we call a McGuffin.

This book is all about characters and situations, of which there are many. It is not a plot driven novel. The large number of people introduced to the story shouldn’t bother you. Most of them play peripheral roles and only stay around for a short time after their introduction. But there is a moderate group of central characters that stay around for large parts of the story.

One of the central characters is Papa Lo, the don of the Copenhagen City gang. Copenhagen City is a neighborhood in Kingston with ties to the right wing Jamaican Labor Party or JLP headed by Edward Seaga. They are in constant war over territory with other gangs tied to the People’s Nationalist Party or PLP headed by the democratic socialist and prime minister Michael Manley. While these gangs are politically affiliated, the parties play only a minimal role in the story. Anyways, Papa Lo is reaching middle age and starting to be concerned about surviving. He notices that there are hardly any elderly Jamaicans and he is growing weary of the gang violence even though he tells other people he isn’t. He begins taking interest in the message of the Rastafarians and is in dialogue with The Singer who has hired him to manage security for an upcoming concert. The Singer is affiliated with the left wing PNP in opposition to the Copenhagen City gang, but his intention is to bring peace to the city.

Second in command of the Copenhagen City gang is Josey Wales, named after the outlaw from the Clint Eastwood western movie. Josey Wales recognizes that Papa Lo is aging out of his position. He starts plotting behind Papa Lo’s back to lead a gang of dugged up teenage assassins on a mission to assassinate The Singer. The origins and purpose of this plot are murky, but it is clear that Josey Wales has ties to the CIA who provide him with weapons, drugs, and guidance. Josey Wales’ liaison with the CIA is the freelance asset Doctor Love, a Miami Cuban exile and Bay of Pigs veteran. Doctor Love is an explosives expert who helped to blow up an airplane over Barbados in an anti-communist terrorist attack. Doctor Love also has ties to Colombian drug cartels who he later introduces to Josey Wales. This part of their relationship is of later importance in the chapters that come after The Singer’s death.

The two other characters that carry the most weight are Alex Pierce and Nina Burgess who subsequently changes her name twice before the book concludes. Alex is an American journalist for Rolling Stone magazine, sent to Jamaica to cover The Singer. He is a rogue journalist though and breaks with Rolling Stone to pursue a more lurid story about CIA connections to gun running and gang activity in the Kingston ghettos. As he pursues his story, he ends up being one of only a handful of people who know that Josey Wales is the ringleader of the hit squad that attempts to assassinate The Singer. This has consequences for him later as Josey Wales sends hitmen out to kill anyone who has knowledge of the failed assassination attempt. The danger follows Alex to New York City where he continues working as a journalist covering the Jamaican gangs, called “posses”, that are responsible for the crack epidemic of the 1980s and 1990s.

Nina Burgess is a young, middle class Jamaican woman who wants nothing less than a chance to emigrate to America. After being seduced by The Singer at a party, she deludes herself into thinking he loves her and hangs around outside his house, hoping she can convince him to get her a plane ticket and a visa out of Jamaica. She thinks her own country is too backwards and dangerous for her. Nina is all about class mobility.

We later find her working as a prostitute in Montego Bay under the name Kim Clarke where she hooks up with an American businessman named Charles who works for a bauxite mining company. She moves in with him. The two of them use each other. Charles uses Kim for sex and as an unpaid domestic servant. Kim doesn’t love him but pins all her hopes on his promises to marry her and take her to live in America. When the Jamaican government raises taxes on bauxite exports, the American company closes down its Jamaican operations, Charles leaves and doesn’t take Kim with him. Nina/Kim later shows up in New York under the assumed named of Dorcas Palmer.

Then there is Weeper, a character of lesser importance in the beginning, but one that becomes more significant in the later New York City chapters. Weeper is an educated man, an atheist and reader of Bertrand Russell, and he is also gay. He tries to follow the honest path of education upwards out of the Copenhagen City ghetto, but gets arrested and tortured in prison by the police. After getting out, he becomes Josey Wales’ closest associate and later moves to New York to oversee the crack dealing operations there.

Otherwise there is a large cast of peripheral characters. Most of them are gangsters or gang affiliated. Despite the large numbers, there isn’t a wide range of characters though. One of them is, however, the duppy, or ghost in Jamaican English, of a man who died in the West Kingston Wars of the 1960s. Unseen by the other characters, he gives surreal narratives of murder scenes, telling us what happens before the killing and what happens to souls on the other side.

The plot, as explained above, is simple. The subplots are a bit more complex, but not by much. The complexity is in how interwoven they all are. But this novel is less about plot and more about character. More specifically, it is about Jamaica as seen through different subjective points of view. And the subtext of the novel is about thwarted ambitions for class mobility. The Singer, for instance, seemingly at the top of Jamaica as a type of prophet or king, is thwarted in his ambition to bring peace to Jamaica. First assassins try to rub him out and then gangsters use violence to make his peace treaty fall apart. After that he dies and the text carries a heavy suggestion that the CIA had a hand in his demise.

Papa Lo’s desire to retire and live to old age in peace is thwarted when he gets killed in a police ambush, probably orchestrated by Josey Wales who takes over as don in the Copenhagen City gang. Both Josey Wales and Weeper initially tried to move up in life through channels of vocational work training and education, but were beaten down by the police and found no other outlet for their desire to grow other than in criminal gangs. Josey Wales does succeed in expanding his operations by working with Colombian drug cartels to traffic cocaine to America, but meets his match when he crosses a competitor in New York. Weeper also gets killed. In New York, he finds liberation because he is able to live with minimum hassle as a gay man, unlike in the oppressively homophobic society of Jamaica. But he dies in a gang hit there too.

The desire for class mobility is further emphasized in Josey Wales when examining his motivations. As mentioned before, he tries to advance himself by learning a skilled trade, but then gets shot five times during the wars of the 1960s. As he rises to the position of don, we learn small details like how he wants a flush toilet in his house, something given to him as a payoff from the JLP, and how he refuses to talk about the business of killing and drug trafficking before finishing his morning tea. At the end of his life, his son attends a prestigious private school. His aspiration is for a middle class existence like the family that Nina/Kim comes from. And she wants to escape her middle class life by fleeing to America to escape from the crime that plagues Jamaica, making it unsafe for middle class people.

After The Singer dies, the last two sections of the novel mostly take place in America, sometimes in Miami but mostly in New York. Jamaican posses that deal crack are the central part of these back end sections.

Nina/Kim, however, does achieve her dream when she takes on another fake name, this time Dorcas, and emigrates to New York. She finds herself, in a way, by working as a caretaker for a man with amnesia. The significance is that every day, he forgets who she is and she wants nothing more than to forget her past and become someone else. This becomes another thwarted ambition since people recognize her Jamaican accent no matter how hard she tries to lose it. She later becomes an emergency room nurse and realizes something big is happening because Jamaican posse members keep showing up with bullet wounds. In the end this shows how her Jamaican-ness is a permanent part of her no matter how hard she tries to hide or eliminate it.

It is in New York City that the white journalist Alex Pierce shows up again too. While continuing to work as a journalist and author of a biography about The Singer, he meets with an inmate of Rikers Island prison. Tristan Phillips is a member of the Ranking Dons, the coke dealing posse that rivals the Storm Posse which is the American arm of the Copenhagen City gang led by Josey Wales. Tristan is a fallen Rastafarian who is a signatory to the peace treaty The Singer tries to uphold back in Kingston. Alex uses his journalist credentials to get in touch with Tristan, but he has a hidden motive. Alex fears for his life because he is one of only a couple people who knows that Josey Wales is the man who orchestrated the assassination attempt on The Singer. He also lives in fear because he killed the man who they sent to murder him in a bid to eliminate everyone who knows Josey Wales’ secret. Alex looks to Tristan for inside advice on his safety. It is through Tristan that the novel takes on a meta-narrative quality since he insists on Alex writing a book about the Kingston gangs and how they tried to assassinate The Singer. Alex, the white journalist, thereby becomes a literary persona representing Marlon James, the Jamaican author of this novel. The novel’s title is also a reference to an article written by Alex Pierce.

After Tristan assures him he is safe, Alex returns home to find a gang of Jamaican thugs waiting for him. Alex has been writing a serialized work of investigative journalism about a massacre in a Brooklyn crack house. The articles are revealing too much about the posses in involved. After a brutally violent confrontation, Alex learns that he will be allowed to live only if he continues writing articles that are approved of by the Storm Posse. This may be good news, but his wings are clipped so that his ambition to be a truth-telling journalist is thwarted. To a certain extent, all the major characters in this book get only a fraction of what they want. That fraction doesn’t go far for any of them. The theme of thwarted ambitions reminds me a bit of the poem “Dream Deferred” by the Harlem Renaissance poet Langston Hughes.

The most amazing part of this novel is how it is written. Every chapter is told in the first person by a different narrator. That way we get a subjective, kaleidoscopic view of everything that is happening. The story lines and subplots are interwoven into a web of multi-dimensional perspectives so that we see each character from both their own subjective point of view and the subjective point of view of others. It’s an amazing accomplishment that this writing, in all its subtlety, is so easy to follow.

It’s also amazing how effectively this works in character building. Each of the main characters are so distinctly written that it is easy to tell them apart. They really come to life as individuals through their narratives. You might notice in the beginning that each chapter heading is the name of the character speaking. By the end of the book, these chapter headings are absent and yet it is still obvious which character is speaking. This is even more interesting in how Nina/Kim/Dorcas takes on three different names in three different locations, yet it is clear that she is all three people without the author ever explaining this. He never explicitly says, “and then Nina changed her name to Kim.” He just shows us how she is as she is and allows for us to make the connection of our own.

And the stand out narrative for me is when Tristan is talking to Alex in prison. The only speech in these passages is that of Tristan; the speech of Alex isn’t written into the text. It is like sitting next to Tristan in a prison visitor’s booth where he is separated from Alex by a plexiglass window as they communicate over a telephone. These passages are especially good because of the change Tristan goes through during the conversation. At first he is hostile towards Alex, but after learning about Alex’s secrets, Tristan becomes relaxed, interested, and friendly. This is done by showing us only Tristan’s side of the conversation and his change in mood is delieverd so effectively because of the actual language used. Again the author shows us this change without explaining it.

One other great thing about this novel is the crafting of the language. It is mostly written using Jamaican English or Patwa as it is sometimes called. Marlon James, being a Jamaican author, has a natural understanding of the language and he writes it so well that he captures its rhythms and nuances in pronunciation and vocabulary. In fact, the shifting narratives give it the feel of reggae music. When listening to reggae you will notice the instruments don’t all play at once. Pauses and empty spaces in the rhythms create a depth that can’t be achieved in other ways. You might notice the call and response patterns in reggae rhtyhms too; the horns play a line of notes then stop to allow the bass and keyboards to run for a measure then stop to allow the horns space to play again, so on and so forth. The structure of shifting and alternating first person narratives operates with a similar logic. You will also learn some new vocabulary too if you read this. Words like “raascloth”, “battyboy”, “pussyhole”, and “fuckery” are repeatedly used throught the text. If you finish this and “fuckery” hasn’t been permanently etched into your brain, you probably weren’t paying much attention to what you were reading.

Finally, this book is not about the CIA’s involvement in Jamaica, but that element is a root cause of the problems being portrayed in the story. The novel starts fourteen years after Jamaica gained post-colonial independence from Great Britain. Within less than a decade, the CIA began a destabilization program in this small West Indian nation that was struggling to get on its feet and stay there. When the democratic socialist PNP party came to power in a landslide election, the CIA armed JLP affiliated gangs with heavy ammunition and the result was disastrous in two ways: the brutal violence of a rapidly escalating crime rate and a growing narcotics trade. Both of these problems spilled over into America and may have permanently damaged Jamaica as a nation. To paraphrase Josey Wales, America creates monsters and then acts surprised when they act monstrous. All this is in the name of fighting communism although I’m convinced the American government doesn’t actually care about fighting communism. They scapegoat communism for the purpose of imperialism and hegemony. If this is the case, maybe we deserve some of the crime that drug cartels have brought to our shores. Our meddling in other countries’ affairs is only perpetuating the problems we claim to be fighting against.

A Brief History of Seven Killings fills a gap in people’s knowledge of Jamaican history and culture. If you search around for books covering this subject in the decades of the 1970s to the 1990s, almost nothing can be found. Yet people worldwide are familiar with Jamaica through its music, most especially the monumental work of Bob Marley. Although this novel is fiction, most, if not all, the events in it really happened. This can be corroborated by checking a wide variety of legitimate academic sources. Marlon James crafts all that information into a novel and makes it accessible to the general reader. The Jamaican Patwa and the descriptions of extremely brutal violence might make it difficult for some people to read, but it is possibly the most important book about Jamaica that has been written so far.

 

Book Review: Language in Exile by Barbara Lalla & Jean D'Costa

Language in Exile:

Three Hundred Years of Jamaican Creole

by Barbara Lalla & Jean D'Costa

      Jamaica has been a troubled place for centuries. From the horrors of slavery and colonialism to the rampant crime and poverty of the present day, it hasn’t been an easy historical ride. But along the way a rich and beautiful culture has grown. One element of that culture is the language of Jamaican Creole, something that deserves much more study than it has already received. With an eye to the future in the field of linguistics, Barbara Lalla and the Jamaican YA novelist Jean D’Costa collaborated on Language in Exile; Three Hundred Yesrs of Jamaican Creole.

Languages don’t emerge out of nothingness. Every language grows out of some pre-existing system of communication. Language is deeply rooted in human necessity and the need for communication. Keeping this in mind, it is easy to see how the island of Jamaica functioned as a crucible for the creation of new forms of linguistic expression. After Columbus arrived in Cuba, he moved on to Jamaica, probably landing at what is now Montego Bay. In his wake came a tsunami of colonialists from Europe, primarily Spanish and Portuguese. Later on it was the Dutch and the French. Eventually came the British Empire which dominated the island until independence in the 1960s. These colonialists built sugarcane plantations and imported slaves for manual labor from the Gold Coast of Africa. While many of the slaves spoke languages from the Kongo-Bantu language group, they were ethnically distinct and spoke mutually unintelligible languages. Since communication is necessary for running a business, even more so for a large scale farming operation like a sugar estate, a pidgin English formed which was supplemented by neologisms and words brought over by the Africans.

This book is primarily a study of etymology. The authors analyze Jamaican Creole syntax, phonetics, and semantics in an attempt to locate linguistic patterns in their languages of origin. This study is framed on a spectrum encompassing Jamaican Creole, called the “basilect”, at one end and the prestige variety of Jamaican Standard English, called the “acrolect”, at the other end. Most Jamaicans speak a combination of the two extremes; this is called the “mesolect”. By extending this continuum, Jamaican Standard English would actually be a mesolect of Standard British English (a.k.a. Received Pronunciation, King’s/Queen’s English, or BBC English). Using this scale helps to flesh out which elements of Jamaican Creole come from the top-down power structure of the colonialists and which ones come from African roots and other languages.

Despite the obvious influence of Chomsky’s Transformational Generative Grammar (TGG), this is not a thoroughly study of linguistic structures. It actually uses TGG to parse structures in order to trace them back to their origins. As such, Jamaican Creole’s origins are bifurcated into two broad categories: that of British English and that of African-origin languages with stray bits of other languages added in. Thus, Arawak, Spanish, and Portuguese elements do show up in Jamaican Creole, the authors claim their contributions are too small to have a major impact on the broader development of the language. Since British English is the source language of the basilect Jamaican Creole, elements of British Standard English dominate. This would make sense since the slaves, being fluent in mutually incomprehensible languages, were unable to speak to each other or the colonialists, and had to rely on pidgin English as a lingua franca for communication. This pidgin morphed into a creole language and fluency in the mesolect largely depended on the amount of social contact a person had with the colonial speakers of British English. House servants would likely be more fluent in British Standard English than field workers who speak on limited terms with a “buckra” or plantation manager. The slaves would speak the basilect Jamaican Creole among themselves. It is through these differing interactions that a new variety of English came to be.

The subject of Jamaican Creole’s origins in British English is more complex than you might at first imagine. The colonialists were mostly of lower class or working class status in the UK. They entered the colonial trade for the sake of class mobility. Therefore the English they brought to Jamaica was a variety of mesolects dependent on regional linguistic patterns. The majority of colonialists came from both sides of the border between Northern England and Scotland; this means that Scots English had an influence on the lexicon and phonetics of Jamaican Creole. Other colonialists were Irish, Welsh, or Cornish and this had some influence on the creole as well. Some archaic lexical items from the British Isles are still used in Jamaican English to this day long after they fell out of use in their regions of origin.

A large portion of this book is on the etymological roots of Jamaican Creole in West African languages. Since so little has been studied or written about this linguistic category, it is a more difficult subject to tackle. But separating West African elements from European elements isn’t so difficult. If such elements don’t correspond to anything found in a European language of the time period in question, it likely either came from a native Caribbean or West African language. This book mostly focuses on the lexicon of Jamaican Creole and its relation to West Africa, but it does touch on phonology and syntax to some extent. Some interesting discussion surrounds the influence of Gold Coast Creole English and the origins of the mysterious pronoun “unu” in Jamaican Creole.

Gold Coast Creole English developed because English colonialists set up trading posts on the west coast of Africa. Part of their trade was in slaves and so the creole became a lingua franca for the purpose of enterprise.

In the latter case, “unu” is used in Jamaica as a second person plural pronoun in place of “you” in Standard English. For example, “you (people) must go gome” would be realized in the surface structure as “unu mus home” in Jamaican Creole. The origin of “unu” hasn’t been setttled yet, but most likely it came from West Africa, although, to the best of my knowledge, no equivalent in a West African language, or any other language, has ever been found. This raises an interesting question about Received English as well since the singular “you” is used as both a second person singular and plural pronoun. Some speakers of American Standard English inflect the plural “you” to make “you all” or y’all” and working class people in New Jersey might say “youze” to clarify any confusion when addressing a group of people. That second person plural pronoun appears to be a linguistic problem causing semantic surface structure problems that get solved in various ways. “Unu” complicates Jamaican Creole further because Jamaican Creole uses the same pronouns for nominative and accusative cases. Therefore in Jamaican Creole you can say “We drive him to the store” but also “Him drive we to the store”. Why is this so? This is the kind of problem that keeps linguists awake at night. It’s also the reason we never get invited to parties.

There is one interesting chapter about the source materials used in researching this subject. Until recently, Jamaican Creole has been an oral language only. It wasn’t until the 1960s that people began to write it. But the written record does include some samples and scraps. Mostly they are written by colonialist writers who used eye dialect to inject a sense of realism into their texts. Some of these are ephemera like songs or nursery rhymes. Sometimes there is as little as a line or a passage of dialogue in a story or journal. Often these bits ot Creole are written with the intention of demonstrating the inferiority of the slaves. So one problem with these source materials is a socio-linguistic one in that they are not written by the people who spoke it and the intended purpose of the writing is inherently pejorative. Another problem is that since Jamaican Creole was an oral language in the past, there is no standardized spelling for it. The colonialists who wrote in the creole eye dialect depended on their own phonetics to transcribe sounds and this differed from writer to writer. It also differed according to the linguistic background of the writer so that speakers of different English mesolects heard Jamaican Creole through varied phonetic systems. The spelling of Jamaican Creole is therefore irregular which means deductions as to how Jamaican Creole sounded in the past can only be approximated or sometimes entirely wrong. This makes if further more difficult to study phonetic morphology as phonemes from various languages combined to form new phonemes and new phonetic environments that influence how Jamaican Creole is spoken today.

After the technical chapters in the first half of the book, the second half is a compilation of written source materials included so the reader can apply the linguistic analysis to actual written language. It takes some discipline to follow this section because some of the source material is disturbing due to the socio-linguistic problems mentioned before. Reading the speech of slaves describing their living conditions, and sometimes the torture they suffered for disobedience, is distressing, sometimes even disturbing. On the other hand, there are lighter passages including some entertaining tales of Anancy, the trickster archetype of Jamaican folklore. And once you’ve learned the parameter sets of Jamaican Creole syntax, phonetics, and semantics, it actually isn’t as difficult to understand as you might intitially think. Or “as ye’ fi tink a’ fus”.

This book is academic and written using highly technical language. If you don’t have a background in linguistics most of it will go right over your head. If you do have a background in linguistics, it will be clear what the authors’ intentions are. This isn’t a study that arrives at any strong conclusions. What it does instead is identify unanswered questions about the etymology and morphology or Jamaican Creole and opens up avenues for future research in this subject. It is strictly a scientific book and non-specialists would be advised to look elsewhere to read up on Jamaican language. And non-specialists absolutely should do that because creole languages are a fascinating to study and often easy to catch onto for speakers of Standard English.

Language in Exile isn’t a book that provides answers. It is a book that points the linguistic scholar towards the future for the sake of seeking out answers farther down the road. This isn’t a book for everybody. But one final thought is this: psychologists since Freud have argued that birth is a traumatic experience. Because of slavery and colonialism, Jamaica is a nation that was born in trauma. That trauma is necessary for life to begin though. At least one beautiful thing came out of Jamaica’s traumatic birth and that is the language spoken by its people and all that goes with it.

 

Book Review: Jamaica Talk by Frederic G. Cassidy

Jamaica Talk:

Three Hundred Years Of the English Language in Jamaica

by Frederic G. Cassidy

      If you’ve ever been to Jamaica, or if you’ve spent any time around members of the Jamaican diaspora community, you might have had a certain type of experience. As the conversation starts you notice the Jamaican accent. Some words are pronounced differently, Some of the grammar is different from what you ordinarily hear although you can still understand what is being said. The language is musical and you’ll probably be charmed by the easy going and friendly manner of the person you’re talking to. I’ve seen many women swoon when they hear a handsome Jamaican man speak. And then another Jamaican person comes along and, without warning, they’re speaking in some language you can’t comprehend even though you think you might be hearing some words that sound like English. What has happened is that they have codeswitched from Standard English to Jamaican Creole, also called “Jamaican Patois” or “patwa” as it is sometimes spelled.

Many speakers of English as a first language find Jamaican Creole to sound cool 0r interesting. Closed minded people, on the other hand, will think of it as a corrupted form of “pure” or “proper” English. Jamaicans simply think of Jamaican English as their normal way of speaking while linguists see it as a fascinating source of scientific study for a wide variety of reasons. The latter two catagories are of high importance for Frederic G. Cassidy, the half-Jamaican and half-Canadian linguist who wrote Jamaica Talk, a pioneering study of this subject matter.

A creole language is defined as deriving from a standard language spoken by the dominating colonial class. Creoles can start as pidgin languages, develop their own rules of grammar and pronunciation, and then get passed down to the following generations as a first language. Creole languages never fully separate from the original language and so something like Haitian Creole is classified as a non-standard variety of French even though native speakers of French might not be able to understand it. The same can be said for Jamaican Creole. But Cassidy explains that the dividing line between Standard English and Jamaican Creole is not easy to pinpoint. The two varieties exist as end points on a continuum rather than being distinct entities unto themselves. Eductaed Jamaicans will be more fluent in Standard English while rural, uneducated Jamaicans will be more fluent in Creole. Most Jamaicans speak the mesolect, a mixture of both, adjusting their linguistic styles according to who they are speaking to.

It would be impossible to discuss Jamaican language without exploring its etymology in the context of Caribbean history. The original inhabitants of Jamaica were Arawaks. Later on, colonialists from Spain and Portugal imported African people, mostly from the west coast and the Kongo river basin. Many of these slaves did not have a common language since they came from tribes or villages speaking mutually exclusive languages. British colonialists came later, bringing over larger and larger numbers of slaves over two centuries of rule. Since work, especially in the sugarcane farming and processing industries, depended on communication for the purpose of instruction and domination, the colonialists and Africans had to negotiate linguistically by combining elements of African, English, and some other European languages to functionally run plantations. Colonial Jamaica was like a laboratory for the creation of new linguistic patterns, utilizing chance, trial and error to birth Jamaican Creole as we know it today.

Cassidy provides a good explanation of Jamaican prosody and pronunciation. The languages spoken by the West African people brought to Jamaica, like Twi or Ewe, are phonemically tonal whereas English isn’t. English is, however, a syntactically tonal language. Similar to Asian languages like Chinese, Thai, Lao, and Vietnamese, the meaning of a word in African tonal languages changes according to variations in rising, falling, neutral, or wavy pitches. A word like “ma” in Chinese can have four different meanings according to the tone used by the speaker. English uses grammatical tones to mark things like questions which are marked as such by rising tones at the end of the sentence. West African languages do not have these syntactic tones. So when speakers of languages using phonemic tones speak a language that doesn’t, but does have tones in its syntax, the result is a spoken language that some might say has a musical quality to it as Jamaican English does. Cassidy comments on the way Jamaican English has lilts and drawls. And since tones in West African languages are mostly carried by the vowels, this effects the phonetics of consonants in their linguistic environments too.

I don’t like to say that this linguistic environment corrupts Standard English pronunciation because that implies that speakers of Jamaican Creole are peaking an inferior variety of English whereas they are actually speaking the language they learn from birth, a language that has developed over three centuries to meet the needs of the people who speak it. The scientific view is that there is no right or wrong English, no good or bad English, and no pure or impure language of any kind. There is only English as it is spoken according to the needs of the people who speak it. It is that organic, pragmatic form of spoken language that interests linguists rather than an idealized version of a pure language that no one actually speaks.

Cassidy also examines other aspects of phonology like ellipsis or intrusive sounds. Notable is the absence of the voiced and unvoiced /th/ that occurs in Standard English. A word like “with” thereby gets pronounced as “wid” or “wi” in Jamaican Creole. Combined with the ellipsis, or absence, of consonant clusters, “thing” is pronounced as “tin”. Consonant cluster ellipsis, intrusive glides, and vowel shifts also can make a word like “going” become realized as “gwine” in spoken Creole, while “boy” becomes “bwai”.

Syntax is another matter. The bigots and conservatives have made the claim that Jamaican Creole has no grammar; the defenders of the language argue that it is just as grammatically complex as Standard English even though it follows different syntactical structures. Some differences are the absence of possessive plural case markers, the /’s/. Instead the gender neutral pronoun “him” is used as a possessive marker attached to the noun. “Bob drives John’s car” in Jamaican Creole is “Bob drive John car him”. Creole also has an absence of word-final /-s/ inflections to mark plurality. Instead the pronoun “them”, pronounced “dem” is inserted after the pluralized noun so that “Bob has bananas” becomes “Bob ha banana dem”. Plurals can also be formed by repeating the noun so that “He has cars” is realized as “Him ha car car”. Creole doesn’t account for nominative or accusative cases with either case markers or syntactic order and accusative pronouns are used for nominative nouns. Pronouns are also gender-neutral with no distinction for the “he/she” dichotomy. The masculine “him” is used universally. Therefore “He goes home” in Standard English is “Him gwine home” in Creole can also mean “She goes home” depending on context. A sentence like “Him dri fi home him fi ca him” would be confusing to a non-speaker of Jamaican Creole, but those who speak the language would hear “He/she drives to his/her home in his/her car”.

Jamaican Creole verbs also have no inflection, nor do they have tense or conjugation. Auxiliary verbs like “is”, “go”, “have”, “could, “can” and so on are also absent with the exception of those used as time markers such as “will”, pronounced “wi” to mark future tense. Thus “Bob will walk to his house” gets spoken as “Bob wi wak fi hass him”. Rather than using gerunds, or the word-final /-ing/ verb forms, to indicate continuous action, verbs are instead repeated. So “Bob is eating mangoes” becomes “Bob nyam nyam mango dem”. “Nyam” is the Jamaican Creole verb for “eat” and is probably of West African origin.

And there is so much more. Syntax in Jamaican Creole bears a lot of similarity to some languages in Southeast Asia especially to Bahasa Malay-Indonesian which itself is an invented language based on a Creole that was spoken by sea merchants around the Malaysian peninsula and the archipelagos of the Philippines and Indonesia. Such similarities raise questions about the formation of creoles as to whether there are universal patterns in their formation or not.

The beginning chapters on history, etymology, syntax, prosody, and phonology actually take up a thin section of this book. More than half of its chapters are categorical documentations of the Jamaican Creole lexicon or vocabulary. Each chapter accounts for a sub-category of the lexicon such as occupations, medicine, farming, tools, food, plants, animals, and geography. Some explanations are given for the probable etymology of words in English, Spanish, Portuguese, or one of the many West African languages brought over during colonialism with Twi and Ewe being those that Cassidy cites most often. While these chapters on the lexicon are endlessly fascinating to read, they are less scientifically rigorous than the other chapters at the beginning of the book. Some of these vocabulary items are now obsolete since Cassidy depends heavily on written texts from the colonial era to catalog and document the Creole lexicon.

Frederic G. Cassidy maintains a fine balance in Jamaica Talk. Parts of it may be challenging for the non-linguist because of the technical language he uses in the earlier chapters. But this technical language is not overused and some of it is well-explained and illustrated with diagrams to make it more clear. Most of the book, especially the sections on the Jamaican Creole lexicon, are easy to read and use very little technical language. It is successfully written for linguists and non-linguists alike. It is also of historical value since Jamaican Creole is such a tragically under-represented language in the linguistics field and little has been written about it before or after the publication of Jamaica Talk. Also it was researched and written around the time Jamaica gained its independence as a nation from England and the pride in this West Indian island nation’s culture radiates out of Cassidy’s writing.

He would definitely say that Jamaican Creole, like reggae and jerk chicken, is a national treasure. Jamaica is a beautiful country with its beaches and jungles. Even the alligators have a relaxed approach to life providing you aren’t around them at dinner time. But it’s also worth visiting for the people with their melodic language and easy going ways, at least as long as you don’t go wandering around Kingston alone at night and are careful around gangster war zones like Trench Town or Tivoli Gardens.