Esi Edugyan
Author of Washington Black
About the Author
Image credit: wikimedia.org
Works by Esi Edugyan
Associated Works
The Decameron Project: 29 New Stories from the Pandemic (2020) — Contributor — 158 copies, 5 reviews
New Daughters of Africa: An International Anthology of Writing by Women of African Descent (2019) — Contributor — 115 copies, 1 review
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Birthdate
- 1978
- Gender
- female
- Education
- Johns Hopkins University (MA ∙ Writing Seminars)
University of Victoria, British Columbia, Canada - Occupations
- novelist
- Awards and honors
- Giller Prize (2011|2018)
- Relationships
- Price, Steven (husband)
- Nationality
- Canada
- Birthplace
- Calgary, Alberta, Canada
- Places of residence
- Victoria, British Columbia, Canada
- Associated Place (for map)
- Canada
Members
Discussions
2018 Booker Prize Longlist: Washington Black by Esi Edugyan in Booker Prize (July 2018)
Half Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan in Booker Prize (September 2011)
Reviews
A beautifully compelling story that weaves together two parallel timelines in the life of Sid Griffiths, a biracial American-born jazz musician who spent much of his young adulthood living in Europe. Half of the tale is set in Germany in 1939 as Sid and the other men in his band struggle to get out of the country, which has become increasingly unsafe for a group of Black men who play jazz. However, once they get into France the threat of the Nazis continues to loom. The other half of the show more novel follows Sid in 1992 as he travels with his former bandmate, Chip, to Berlin for a festival screening a documentary celebrating the life Hieronymous Falk, another of their former bandmates. However, Chip has a surprise for Sid that will force Sid to once again grapple with a decision he made in 1940 that had disastrous consequences.
It took me a bit to settle into the novel as Edugyan writes it in an historical version of African-American Vernacular English, awash with slang of the 1930s jazz scene. However, once I was accustomed to Sid's voice I was drawn completely into his life in both the early days of the war and in the 90s as he struggles with the choices he made in the past. Edugyan effortlessly weaves in her research about the lives of Black folk in Europe in the 30s and also manages to include real jazz figures in the story, including an appearance by Louis Armstrong. A gorgeous tale of friendship, jazz, and the impossible decisions that were made in the face of war. Recommended. show less
It took me a bit to settle into the novel as Edugyan writes it in an historical version of African-American Vernacular English, awash with slang of the 1930s jazz scene. However, once I was accustomed to Sid's voice I was drawn completely into his life in both the early days of the war and in the 90s as he struggles with the choices he made in the past. Edugyan effortlessly weaves in her research about the lives of Black folk in Europe in the 30s and also manages to include real jazz figures in the story, including an appearance by Louis Armstrong. A gorgeous tale of friendship, jazz, and the impossible decisions that were made in the face of war. Recommended. show less
I've decided that I'm all done reading books about slavery or the civil rights movement or growing up with a black nanny written by white women.
Because I don't think it's wrong to write outside of your own life experience IF you are actively, extensively, sensitively taking the advice and guidance of individuals whose lives are much closer to that experience you're trying to write. Hank Green's acknowledgements at the end of An Absolutely Remarkable Thing are a great example of this. But too show more much of the aforementioned fiction is revisionist history and erases the very real experience of the people in its pages.
I'm looking at you The Kitchen House.
Washington Black was brilliant for a lot of reasons but chief among them, for me, was its nuance and subtlety around the white savior narrative. If Titch, as a character, is the writer cheerfully describing his friendship with a slave who he helps elevate in society, then Wash is the black person reading it saying, okay, but where am I in this story.
Obviously Wash is more than just a symbol and he certainly doesn't exist only to teach white readers, and writers, what not to do. If I genuinely thought that, whoa, I would be missing the point. Because this story is Wash's. This is about his triumphs and tragedies, about finding his place after being systematically stripped of one by slavery. And not only finding it, but by carving it out, painfully and thoroughly looking at his entire life and memories and evaluating them as an adult.
And when it comes time to confront Titch's role in his life, he is as gentle as he is ruthless. Because maybe not every person who fashions themselves a "white savior" is a bad person but they're also just not as good as they believe themselves to be. No one can be a savior by erasing the identity of the person they're "saving".
Wash, as a character, is fragile and human and strong. He's not a trope or an archetype. Wash is a man with his own life experience and his own story. That shouldn't feel like such a win but in the world of bookstores packed with books like The Help and Calling Me Home, Washington Black is a breath of bracing fresh air. show less
Because I don't think it's wrong to write outside of your own life experience IF you are actively, extensively, sensitively taking the advice and guidance of individuals whose lives are much closer to that experience you're trying to write. Hank Green's acknowledgements at the end of An Absolutely Remarkable Thing are a great example of this. But too show more much of the aforementioned fiction is revisionist history and erases the very real experience of the people in its pages.
I'm looking at you The Kitchen House.
Washington Black was brilliant for a lot of reasons but chief among them, for me, was its nuance and subtlety around the white savior narrative. If Titch, as a character, is the writer cheerfully describing his friendship with a slave who he helps elevate in society, then Wash is the black person reading it saying, okay, but where am I in this story.
Obviously Wash is more than just a symbol and he certainly doesn't exist only to teach white readers, and writers, what not to do. If I genuinely thought that, whoa, I would be missing the point. Because this story is Wash's. This is about his triumphs and tragedies, about finding his place after being systematically stripped of one by slavery. And not only finding it, but by carving it out, painfully and thoroughly looking at his entire life and memories and evaluating them as an adult.
And when it comes time to confront Titch's role in his life, he is as gentle as he is ruthless. Because maybe not every person who fashions themselves a "white savior" is a bad person but they're also just not as good as they believe themselves to be. No one can be a savior by erasing the identity of the person they're "saving".
Wash, as a character, is fragile and human and strong. He's not a trope or an archetype. Wash is a man with his own life experience and his own story. That shouldn't feel like such a win but in the world of bookstores packed with books like The Help and Calling Me Home, Washington Black is a breath of bracing fresh air. show less
There seems to be a lot of readers who have are confused by this book. I think it's because they are expecting it to be a slave narrative. And while it's true that the horrors of slavery do make a large part of the events of the book, slavery is not the main theme. The main theme of the book is...
...wait for it...
...our relationships with our families (both birth and found families) and how they shape our sense of self worth and even our desire to go on living.
*Spoilers ahead*
Washington's show more relationship with his birth mother is deeply complicated. In fact, he doesn't even realize she is his birth mother until after she is dead when he finds the records of his birth in England. She abandoned him at birth and only began having contact with him after he stumbled back into her life, and she presented herself as a guardian, never telling him that she was his birth mother.
Washington finds a surrogate father in Titch. Titch also becomes a mentor and teacher to Washington. But just like his birth mother, Titch ultimately abandons him, and for many years, Washington has no idea whether Titch is dead or alive. Titch's motivation for trying to kill himself by walking into an arctic storm is driven by his troubled relationship with his own father. A man who constructively abandoned his wife and sons in order to pursue his scientific research.
Washington wandering into the storm mirrors Titch's suicide attempt because they are both driven by the same motivation. Titch treated Washington with the same selfish abandonment that Titch's father treated him (Titch). He survived his walk into the arctic storm but made no effort to reconnect with Washington, and allowed him to believe that he was dead. The complete indifference of his father figure is what causes Washington to lose faith in himself and his work, and quite literally stop caring whether he lives or dies, leaving his fate to be decided by the storm. And to some degree, by the reader themselves. show less
...wait for it...
...our relationships with our families (both birth and found families) and how they shape our sense of self worth and even our desire to go on living.
*Spoilers ahead*
Washington's show more relationship with his birth mother is deeply complicated. In fact, he doesn't even realize she is his birth mother until after she is dead when he finds the records of his birth in England. She abandoned him at birth and only began having contact with him after he stumbled back into her life, and she presented herself as a guardian, never telling him that she was his birth mother.
Washington finds a surrogate father in Titch. Titch also becomes a mentor and teacher to Washington. But just like his birth mother, Titch ultimately abandons him, and for many years, Washington has no idea whether Titch is dead or alive. Titch's motivation for trying to kill himself by walking into an arctic storm is driven by his troubled relationship with his own father. A man who constructively abandoned his wife and sons in order to pursue his scientific research.
Washington wandering into the storm mirrors Titch's suicide attempt because they are both driven by the same motivation. Titch treated Washington with the same selfish abandonment that Titch's father treated him (Titch). He survived his walk into the arctic storm but made no effort to reconnect with Washington, and allowed him to believe that he was dead. The complete indifference of his father figure is what causes Washington to lose faith in himself and his work, and quite literally stop caring whether he lives or dies, leaving his fate to be decided by the storm. And to some degree, by the reader themselves. show less
In five essays, Edugyan explores the ways in which race is portrayed in art and storytelling all around the world.
She begins with art in Europe, investigating the ways that Black people were portrayed in paintings (when they were at all), such as using symbols to show the "other". "Canada and the Art of Ghosts" was an interesting look at the ghost stories that do - and don't - get told, what we are collectively afraid of and what we allow to be forgotten.
I was particularly struck by the show more middle essay, "America and the Art of Empathy", in which she takes on the idea of transracialism, briefly talking about "passing," but spending more of her time on folks such as Rachel Dolezal who was born white but self-identifies as Black. There was a lot to chew on there, and I highlighted this quote:
Finally, in "Africa and the Art of the Future" she talks about Afrofuturism and her experience watching Black Panther, and "Asia and the Art of Storytelling" (possibly the weakest of the bunch, but still good) details her own story of traveling Asia and the challenging relationship China and Japan have with race, particularly in accepting Black people and why their attitudes are what they are.
There is a lot to unpack in this fairly slim book, but it's well worth the effort. show less
She begins with art in Europe, investigating the ways that Black people were portrayed in paintings (when they were at all), such as using symbols to show the "other". "Canada and the Art of Ghosts" was an interesting look at the ghost stories that do - and don't - get told, what we are collectively afraid of and what we allow to be forgotten.
I was particularly struck by the show more middle essay, "America and the Art of Empathy", in which she takes on the idea of transracialism, briefly talking about "passing," but spending more of her time on folks such as Rachel Dolezal who was born white but self-identifies as Black. There was a lot to chew on there, and I highlighted this quote:
Perhaps all our arguments around transracialism come down to a larger social disconnect between the individual freedoms we all cherish and the authenticity we now demand of everything. We want to everyone to be able to live out exactly the lives they wish, for our children to grow up to be anything, for everyone to be free to experience their true selves. But we are also living now in a time when the concept of identity is fragile, and we put great stock in absolute authenticity. We ask that art transport us to places and into lives we could not have otherwise fathomed, but we also put fences around those imaginative acts, by demanding, for example, that only gay actors play gay roles, or that only Black writers write Black characters.That resonates a lot with me, as it's a tension I find in my reading. I want to read diversely, and sometimes that means I notice when a book is all-white characters, but a lot of the time it means that I'm purposely seeking out books by people who are Black or Asian American or Latinx, and yes, I do look for a certain "authenticity" in that I don't want all the diverse stories I read to be written from a white lens. But, at the same time, I do think that a creative act should allow a writer to write about things they have not personally experienced. It can be a fine line to walk sometimes, and the lack of diversity in publishing with the decision-makers adds another layer to this.
Finally, in "Africa and the Art of the Future" she talks about Afrofuturism and her experience watching Black Panther, and "Asia and the Art of Storytelling" (possibly the weakest of the bunch, but still good) details her own story of traveling Asia and the challenging relationship China and Japan have with race, particularly in accepting Black people and why their attitudes are what they are.
There is a lot to unpack in this fairly slim book, but it's well worth the effort. show less
Lists
World Books (1)
Female Author (1)
Awards
You May Also Like
Associated Authors
Statistics
- Works
- 9
- Also by
- 5
- Members
- 4,679
- Popularity
- #5,392
- Rating
- 3.8
- Reviews
- 258
- ISBNs
- 110
- Languages
- 8
- Favorited
- 2
