The Kiskadee is a bird native to Guyana and often referred to in Edgar Mittelholzer's brilliant novel, The Life and Death of Sylvia (1953). The bird is so named because its cry seemed by French colonists to be enquiring: "Qu’ est ce qu’il dit?". So what did he say? This blog is about two key topics: EDGAR MITTELHOLZER (his life and his works) and ME (my encounter with Mittelholzer and tales of life in Guyana).

Friday 30 January 2015

Oh Beautiful Guyana: Race, Power and Politics in Jan Lowe Shinebourne's, Timepiece (1986)

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  Guyana as a multiracial nation, delights.   Last night I met Sonia Yarde, a talented playwright and actress.  She looked African to me.  Turns out she is mixed Amerindian.  Barrington Braithwaite was there too.   One look at his face and I’m confused.  Is he African, Amerindian, Indian, European, Chinese, Portuguese – a mix of all or some of these?  I gave up guessing.   All I can tell you is that he’s a cinnamon baritone, full of quizzical expression, full of energy and bursting with thought-provoking views of the world.  As a person of mixed ancestry living in Guyana, I can breathe.  Feel free.  Fit in.  Be certain that no one is going to give me that “What are you doing in our country?” look.  Or the just as irritating: “All that misery in Africa”-look.  The-“You must feel grateful to be living here”-look.     The Guyanese wittingly or unwittingly make nonsense out of conventional ideas of race and geographical boundaries.

I was thus deeply shocked to discover that one of my Facebook friends had posted a racist clip in defence of his thesis that black people are inherently incapable of governing a country, any country, and that everyone should therefore vote for the PPP (a party that is perceived to favour Indians and/or is said to led by Indians).   I'm assuming (hoping) that this type of mindless, vile racism - frankly ridiculous in a multiracial (‘cook-up’) society – is the preserve of a small pocket of idiots and only put on full display during the run up to elections or “silly-season” as my husband’s cousin, Raquel, puts it.    It led me in any case to think about the positive role literature plays in helping us to understand social dynamics.  To which end, I turn to Jan Lowe Shinebourne’s prescient novel, Timepiece (1986).  If you’re Guyanese and haven’t already read it, you should.    Reflecting on the Race Riots of the 1960s one of the characters, Paul, states:

“It was all politics, man,” [...] “Those damn politicians as usual.  Scamps.  They stir up and ferment the people, but no-one blames them for it publicly. They just say Guiana has race problems.  Is politician problem we have.  Then when all the destruction and violence finish, those scamps come out from hiding and make long pious speeches. […]  Look, even some academics at the University here and at U.W.I frame what they say in racial terms nowadays.  Race is God’s word, not the doing of a pack of scamps anymore.  The newspaper and the politician speeches are what the people go by, because they afraid to think for themselves. Now and then, you’ll hear some sense in a cake shop, or at a street corner, or in some private conversation. […]  It was easy to lead the people [after the Wismar riots], because they show what a pack of cowards and butchers they were, and how easy it was to manipulate them.” [Peepal TreePress: 2012, pp139-140]

And as Paul warns in an earlier passage [p.88]: “Race will destroy this country.”

Those of you who like to peddle racist nonsense during silly-season, please take note.  You have a beautiful country.  Cherish it.

BEAUTIFUL GUYANA  (by Hilton Hemerding)

There’s a land just off the Atlantic,
Land of jungles, waterfalls and sweet scenery,
Where poor people farm the lands and hunt the waters,
And all live in peace and harmony.
This is Guyana, beautiful Guyana.
This is Guyana, beautiful Guyana.

Diamond seekers go in the Interior,
Pulling their corials under the falls,
Singing sweet calypso as they heave on their way
To dig up the diamond and the gold.
With Kaieteur tumbling to the river,
How I love to see your foaming tide;
I listen to the chirps of the cheerful kiskadee
As they throw their yellow breasts to the sky.

O Guyana, land where I was born,
O sweet land shining in the sun,
I could hear the monkey chatter up in a tree
And the parrots singing this melody.
O Guyana, beautiful Guyana,
O Guyana, independent and free,
O Guyana, beautiful Guyana.

[For the record, the PPP may or may not be right for Guyana in the next elections.  As a recent migrant to Guyana I don't know enough about their policies or achievements to comment.  This is thus not a criticism of the PPP but rather a plea that when you do vote, you vote for what is good for Guyana and not through the pernicious lens of race ideology.]

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