Tag Archives: discrimination

Frangipani House by Beryl Gilroy

The generosity of book bloggers never ceases to move me. Since last August when I was guest blogger on Global Literature in Libraries looking at older women in fiction around the world I have had recommendations from many people. I really enjoy receiving these suggestions for the list and the series. Pam Giarrizzo went beyond recommending the book that is the subject of this post: she actually sent me a copy from California. Being so connected in the world shut down by Covid-19 was a great boost. There were further connections for me, as I will reveal. Thank you Pam.

This will be the 47th in the series championing fiction about older women in order to make them more visible. This book takes us to Guyana and was first published in 1986. It won the GLC Black Literature Competition in 1985. It is the first in this series from the Caribbean.

Frangipani House

Frangipani House is in Guyana, a large low house which had become a home for old women and where it sits ‘sleek and comfortable’ on the town’s edge. It is run by Olga Trask, known as Matron. 

A comely, honey-brown predator of a woman, short and crisp, with blue-grey eyes and a full head of coarse black hair. […] On admission the women placed everything in her care. (2) 

The story follows Mama King who is 69 and has been unwell for some time with malaria, quinsy and pleurisy. Her two daughters, Token and Cyclette, live in New York and decide to pay for her care at Frangipani House.

The residents are all women and none of them are happy, although some have lost the will to object to Matron’s regime. They adopt a number of strategies to deal with their situations: they sing, or die, or have a stroke, or fade away, or go mad. 

When Mama King’s pleading letters to her daughters go unanswered, she decides to run away. At first she is not found by Matron, but after a few weeks she ends up in hospital and Matron must answer to Mama King’s daughters for what has happened. And they must decide what should be done with her next.

Except it is Mama King’s decision in the end, which is as it should be, for the old woman has some strong opinions based on her experiences.

Through this short novel we see how different groups in Guyana regarded old people in the 1980s. There is the particular complication of the Guyanese diaspora, many family members can not be present to offer practical help and support. An important visit is made by Mama King’s grandson, Markey, who she cared for when he was small, and who is now in the US navy. In Guyana Mama King has a good friend in Grinchi who she has known from childhood. This friend has no children but a track record of helping those abandoned by their families. Issues of male violence, poor fathering, poor parenting and poverty all emerge in this satisfying novel. 

Beryl Gilroy

Beryl Gilroy (1924-2001) grew up in British Guiana, coming to Britain in 1951. She suffered discrimination but eventually became a primary headteacher in Camden at Beckford School (1969-1982), the first black headteacher in London.  She then went on to study and teach at the Institute of Education, part of the University of London. She wrote several more novels and including one based on her experiences as a teacher in London: Black Teacher (1976). Later, she became an ethno-psychotherapist.

In the tradition of Black women who write to come to terms with their trauma, or alternatively to understand the nature of their elemental oppression, I wrote to redefine myself and put the record straight. [From Leaves in the Wind]

She had to endure being ignored as both a woman and a black woman in her teaching and her writing careers.

And I find myself drawn to her educational biography as I too was a headteacher (of a secondary school) in north London, although twenty years after she took up her role. And I too moved on to the Institute of Education, and where her son Paul’s book, There Ain’t no Black in the Union Jack (1989), was a key text in thinking about cultural aspects of education.

In terms of the visibility of older women, her novel reminds us of the need for dignity and consideration in the care of older citizens. It also lays to rest the myth of widespread care in the community of older people in other cultures. But she also draws attention to some of the additional difficulties for families who have migrated. And she reminds us of some pretty admirable older women in Guyana, in her portraya  of Muriel King and Miss Grinchi.

Frangipani House by Beryl Gilroy, published in 1986 by Heinemann in the Caribbean Writer’s Series. 255pp. It is still available.

Here are some posts in the Older Women in Fiction series from outside the European tradition:

The Old Woman and the River by Ismail Fahd Ismail

The Woman from Tantoura by Radwa Ashou

Like a Mule Bringing Ice Cream to the Sun by Sarah Ladipo Manyika

See also a comprehensive list including many recent recommendations by readers, on the page called About the Older Women in Fiction Series.

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Filed under Books, Older women in fiction, Reading, Reviews

Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo

Are there any readers who have failed to notice this book? It won the Booker Prize 2019; it is shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2020. It sparkles. It’s about 12 people – girls, women and one other. I am highly recommending it.

Girl, Woman, Other

This is a long book, divided into five chapters and including an epilogue. The first four chapters each feature the stories of three people. Each story is connected to others in this collection, and the connections help it to zip along with energy.

Its epicentre is London, a London with which I became very familiar and where I lived and worked for 35 years. Most of that time I lived in Hackney, and worked either in the city’s secondary schools or at the Institute of Education, which was part of the University of London at that time, teaching teachers on masters and doctoral courses.

During that time the so-called Second Wave of feminism died down, although those of us struggling in a discriminatory world did not feel that we were in any way in post-feminist times. During that time, girls were still experiencing growing up on terms decided by men. There remained a great deal of discrimination, on the grounds of class, ethnicity and gender identity. It was hard for the young people in the schools, and hard for young women in the poorer areas. 

Bernardine Evaristo covers this ground, and more. Her imaginative ability to conjure up these lives interacted with my memory of these times, and added the important ingredient of experiences of minority ethnicities.

Her characters engage with discrimination, migration, heredity, gender identity, marriage, parenthood, abusive relationships, struggles with education, employment, and so on. So much of life is here, with a female and black emphasis.

She has written beautifully about this kind of territory before, not least in Mr Loverman, set in the Hackney I knew, it could almost have been in my street!

What the judges saw

Passionate, razor-sharp, brimming with energy and humour, a must-read about modern Britain and womanhood … Dazzling. [Booker Judges quoted on the cover, quoted on the back cover of the Penguin edition]

There is so much to enjoy in this book, not least the way in which it is written. I do not recall another book that has so many main characters, and which links their lives in ways which illuminate their own and other stories. The multiple stories are told vividly, and not restricted to London or to suffering although every person featured, like every person on the planet, has to engage with the difficulties and beauties of life. 

And she has adopted a somewhat restless style of writing: the text appears to be divided in traditional ways. There are chapters, with subdivision within them. On the page the text appears to be in paragraphs, but they are constructed of a main sentence or starter and then continue with a series of subclauses. Here’s an example from the start of the novel:

Chapter One
Amma
1
Amma
is walking along the promenade of the waterway that bisects her city, a few early morning barges cruise slowly by
to her left is the nautical-themed footbridge with its deck-like walkway and sailing mast pylons
to her right is the bend in the river as it heads east past Waterloo Bridge towards the dome of St Paul’s
she feels the sun begin to rise, the air still breezy before the city clogs up with heat and fumes
a violinist plays something suitably uplifting further along the promenade
Amma’s play, The Last Amazon of Dahomey, opens at the National tonight (1)

I love the way this innovative form allows for multiple experiences, unfinished ideas, variation, and, in this opening statement, tells us a everything we need to know about who is featured, where and when and it alerts us to a significant event later that same day.

As I say, I highly recommend it and I am sorry our book group decided to read eleven other books this year, I would have liked to have discussed it with them. Maybe next year. But my enthusiasm has confirmed my daughter’s interest, especially as I told her she will find her school and college friends here, and our neighbours from when she was growing up.

Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo (2019). I read the Penguin paperback edition. 453pp

Connected posts

Mr Loverman by Bernardine Evaristo (2013) from Bookword in August 2014

HeavenAli reviewed Girl, Woman, Other on her blog in October last year. You can find her review here.

And an interesting list of recommendations provided by Bernardine Evaristo appeared on the Penguin site in March 2020

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Filed under Books, Feminism, Reading, Reviews