Thomas Glave

This is my first introduction to Glave, a gay Jamaican who fully embodies his country and sexuality. This collection of essays follows years of public praises for his writing and a handful of awards from the biggest and the best (O. Henry award). In his introduction, Yusef Komunyakaa states that, like Glave's earlier books, "these essays pulsate with the same charged lyrical, moral authority. No one easily wriggles off the hook." I assumed he meant Glave's adversaries; turns out he means the show more readers of Bloodpeople.

Glave mostly writes about homosexuality and Jamaica. I didn't know how hated homosexuals are in Jamaica. I didn't know they were disemboweled with machetes. And I didn't consider one could be poetic about fear and anger and isolation. But the touchingly phrased sentences don't soften the impact of reading about murder and political corruption. Instead, it eats at you because it makes you attentive to every word, feel the pauses as Glaves takes a breath and speaks with the pulse of his heartbeat. It takes a few moments to find Glave's rhythm and read with it, pulling the poetry from the prose. If you do, however, you'll be forever changed.

That might be a bit dramatic for a poet's anthology of non-fiction essays, but to date I haven't finished Bloodpeople. I've found I need some time between readings. Glave's does not shout but whispers in your ear and sometimes you can know too many secrets. show less

Very mixed review. Beautiful prose, but a lot of anger, which can sometimes stray into academic-style political correctness that I strongly dislike. He makes it clear that much of the anger stems from his feeling unwelcome in so many communities: Jamaica, England, the white gay scene. If the writing itself weren't so good, I would also be more irritated with the structure of his essays, in which many new paragraphs begin with non-sequiturs, as he tries (and often succeeds in) forcing the show more reader to look at a topic in an unexpected way. I find his use of parenthesis (and parentheses) irritating as well. I learned a lot, by reading this, though: about Jamaica (and being gay there), the British Empire, Africa, etc., and I was intrigued and curious about many of the books and authors he writes about, including his own. show less

Among the Bloodpeople: Politics and Flesh
By Thomas Glave
Akashic Books
Reviewed by Karl Wolff

With comparisons to James Baldwin and Jean Genet, Among the Bloodpeople: Politics and Flesh is a great introduction to the writings of Thomas Glave. The anthology brings together a unique array of writing, melding the personal and political, the intellectual and the erotic. Glave is a gay Jamaican living in the United States who has taught at MIT and Clare Hall, University of Cambridge. He explores show more issues of sexuality, diaspora, and narrative in his written works. All this sounds fine, great fodder for the NPR hipster set. These niceties are jettisoned with Glave's forceful and beautiful writing. In the United States we have, for the most part, heated albeit peaceful discussions about gay marriage and church-state issues.

As Glave illustrates in essays both personal and political, Jamaica treats its gay population in two ways: shunned silence and barbaric atrocities. On one level, the word "gay" is never mentioned in public. On another level, gay Jamaicans have been violently persecuted. "Today, or on another day perhaps not so different from this one - a day of light and birds and even laughter, genuine laughter - another faggot in Jamaica will perhaps scream, or not, as someone moves to burn down his home with him inside it; or tries to rip open his bowels with a machete, as he, the faggot (picture his watching eyes, watching; picture his open open or just-closed mouth, sometimes waiting) is perhaps momentarily distracted by looking at the sea, at our gorgeous bluegreen Caribbean sea." This passage, alternately vulgar, horrifying, and beautiful, is from his short essay, "Toward a queer prayer." (The passage, with its mix of violence, anti-gay slurs, and geographic beauty reminded me of passages from Jean Genet.) With this essay and others, Glave attempts to square the circle of his devout Catholic faith and his personal gay sexuality.

Glave's torturous negotiations between faith, culture, and sexual orientation weave into other narratives. These include an essay on the subtle racism he encountered as a student in Cambridge, England, and his experiences editing an anthology on gay Caribbean authors. The "bloodpeople" of the title has a dual meaning. Bloodpeople can mean one's blood relations, one's family. This can also mean one's people by association, like people of the diaspora (Caribbean, black, African, etc.). This can also apply to a diasporic community like the LGBT community (communities?). Glave also questions the monolithic assumptions one associates with the term "community" and "diaspora." Overall, it is a wonderful anthology, interspersing personal essays with more academic-leaning articles.

As someone who enjoys the Akashic Noir series, it was great to read something in their catalog outside their venerable series. I'm rating this lower than usual, not because of the writing, but because it may prove to have limited appeal beyond the NPR hipster set. But this brings up a valuable point of discussion. What use is a book like this when one can't talk about it to non-like-minded people? Sure, one can crow about one's awareness of a social issue (Jamaica's persecution of gays) and use it as a means to improve one's multicultural literary street cred, but, really, so what? The reason Glave writes many of his pieces is to use his literary gifts as a witness to the atrocities he has seen or experienced. This shouldn't be about how one is now more informed about Jamaican literature, but about trying to get these state-sanctioned murders from occurring. Perhaps it might be useful, once you have read this book, to have an awkward silence at the dinner table or during a family get-together. With gay marriage gaining political momentum in the United States, opponents to these laws have been using the term "religious liberty." Given what Glave is writing about and what is happening in Jamaica, it might be worth asking one's right-leaning friend or relative what they actually mean by the term "religious liberty." After all, it is about politics and flesh. And flesh burns.

Out of 10/8.5

http://www.cclapcenter.com/2013/08/book_review_among_the_bloodpeo.html

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When people talk about the LGBT community and queer people the conversation usually focuses on the USA, the UK and Canada. Maybe some conversation about queer prosecution in Africa if you are lucky. I have, however, seen very little about the lives of queer people in the Caribbean. Although it seems that most of these authors don't live there anymore, this collection draws on the experiences of people from the region to create this rather interesting collection.

Although there are a mix of show more works, this collection leans quite heavily non fiction. Some of the works have quite an academic tone which could make them more difficult for some readers. This is not to discourage you! Just a thing to be aware of (and the beauty of collections is that you can skip a work if it's not working for you). There are a variety in these pages from the invisibility of lesbianism to academic thoughts to gay love to a day in the life of a trans woman. I think my favourites were Property Values (An estate agent learns her clients are gay. We get to see her prejudices while dealing with them.) and We Came All the Way from Cuba So You Could Dress Like This? (A story of people who left Cuba seeking political asylum). I think a lot of people who grew up in a homophobic country or community will relate to Independence Day Letter. I think there would be something for anymore who wants to learn more about gay and lesbian people in the Caribbean and I would definitely recommend it to those who are interested. show less