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Women’s Version and Dub Version: Paradigms of Creolisation of Culture in Erna Brodber’s Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home

Emilia Ippolito
p. 49-55

Abstract

Erna Brodber’s Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home gives a female version of the search for personal and cultural identity in the multicultural context of the Caribbean. This painful search is carried out by means of psychological regeneration after a traumatic experience. The continuous border-crossing in the realms of cultural and gender identity leads the female protagonist to the final achievement of multiple identities. This condition enables the subject to cross the limits imposed by the dichotomic logic of binary oppositions, intersecting the long oppressed and forgotten peripheries.

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  • 1 Erna Brodber, Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home, New Beacon Books (London, 1980).

1The novel Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home gives a female version of the search for personal and cultural identity articulated in the narrative context of the novel.1 This is expressed by means of psychological regeneration after a trauma and linguistic variation. For the female protagonists of Annie John and Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home, childhood evokes images of warmth, security, belonging; it is represented textually as a ‘paradise lost’ of relatively ungendered life as a child in nature. For Nellie in Brodber’s novel, the loss of the ‘beautiful garden’ coincides with a forced encounter with her femaleness as socially determined. Nellie’s socialization into adulthood is a complex initiation into hierarchies of race and class, as well as gender.

2Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home opens with a delineation of Nellie’s ancestry, with its apparently polarized referents:

Papa’s grandfather and Mama’s mother were the upper reaches of our world. So we were brown, intellectual, better and apart, two generations of lightening blue-blacks and gracing elementary schools with brightness. The cream of the earth, isolated, quadroon, mulatto, Anglican. But we had two wiry black hands up to the elbows in khaki suds... (p. 7).

‘Papa’s grandfather was the white ancestor,’ whose legacy includes ‘principle, invisible gifts of daffodils.... Hamletian castles and wafer disintegrating on your tongue’ (p. 30): gentlemanly behaviour, English literature and high Church of England allegiance. ‘Mama’s mother’, Granny Tucker, is proudly black, Baptist and the epitome of rural respectability. Her legacy also includes denial of her slave antecedents (p. 31) and repression of her husband’s anti-imperialist anger. From these forebears comes the new generation of which Nellie is part: brown-skinned, middle-class, educated, Anglican, well-spoken and distanced from the black and the poor, ‘these people so different – different from us’ (p. 73) who ‘throw dice, slam dominoes and give-laugh-for-peasoup all day long. They have no culture, no sense of identity, no shame or respect for themselves’ (p. 51).

3Nellie’s family history offers a range of female role models. There is Tia Maria, self-effacing, black great-grandmother; Aunt Alice, eccentric to the point of craziness, silent, unmarried and cheerfully lacking a sense of responsibility; Aunt Becca, middle class and proper, who made a good marriage at the cost of aborting her illegitimate child. Contrasting with Aunt Becca’s barrenness are the mysterious cousins B, Teena and Letitia, fallen women who ‘had simply dropped their children U-roy and Locksley and Obadiah and vanished into the crowd’ (p. 143). To Nellie, these initiations into ‘It’ (female sexuality) represent power – the luxury toys they send back for their children – and the terrifying propensity of the womb to become a scrap-heap, a devalued dumping ground for unwanted and unplanned children. Obviously, the commodification of the womb has terrible resonances for the descendants of slave women in the Caribbean.

4This fear and shame associated with female sexuality inform Nellie’s mother’s construction of physical development as a ‘hidey-hidey’ thing. ‘You are eleven now,’ she tells her daughter, ‘and soon something strange will happen to you’ (p. 23). And this strange something changes Nellie, sets her (like Annie John) apart as tainted, defiled: ‘So I am different. Something is wrong with me’ (p. 23). For respectable Aunt Becca, female sexuality, and its attendant vulnerability, must be repressed: ‘save yourself lest you turn woman before time’ (p. 17). On the other hand, a different ethos faces Nellie at university, urging sexual liberation: ‘You want to be a woman; now you have a man, you’ll be like everybody else. You’re normal now! Vomit and bear it’ (p. 28).

  • 2 The kumbla is a Jamaican term meaning literary calabash, a symbolically enclosed space, carrying th (...)

5Another alternative is to ignore the whole sordid issue of female sexuality and adopt the mask of the cerebral intellectual, the committed student of progressive thought: the emotionally sterile ‘cracked doll’ kumbla that Nellie assumes for a time.2 From the bewildering range of roles and hierarchical alliances in her society, Nellie is taught to use sexual repression and social exclusiveness as defences against ‘those people’ who ‘will drag you down’ (p. 17) if they can.

  • 3 Erna Brodber, Perceptions of Caribbean Women: Towards a Documentation of Stereotypes, ISER (Cave Hi (...)
  • 4 Erna Brodber, Perceptions of Caribbean Women, p. 83.

6The novel also dramatizes the cost of being so rigidly classed and gendered, through the representation of Nellie’s fragmentation and collapse. Brodber3 has explained that Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home originated as a case study of the ‘dissociative personality’ for her abnormal psychology students in Jamaica. As with the dub version’s lack of respect for coherence, there is an initially fractured narrative structure which begins to come together as the putative patient re-lives the traumatic events which led to psychic collapse, and begins the reconstructive process. Thus, as Nellie ‘reconnects’ herself, the narrative operates like a ‘moving camera’ film, coherently relating the familial and social history that has produced her. As Brodber explains in Perceptions of Caribbean Women, it is very important for adolescents to be aware of their origins and come to terms with them if they want to achieve ‘a new life’ that can just ‘be forged out of the past.’4

  • 5 Merle Hodge, Crick, Crack, Monkey, Heinemann (London, 1988).
  • 6 Crick, Crack, Monkey, p. 62.
  • 7 Linda Hutcheon, ‘‘Circling the Downspout of Empire’: Post-Colonialism and Post-Modernism’, Ariel 20 (...)
  • 8 Erna Brodber, ‘Fiction in the Scientific Procedure’, in Selwyn R. Cudjoe, Caribbean Women Writers: (...)

7Textually, Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home evokes a personality, indeed a society, fragmented by contending discourses. For Nellie, as for Tee in Crick Crack Monkey,5 ‘doubleness, or this particular kind of doubleness, was a thing to be taken for granted. Why, the whole of life was like a piece of cloth, with a right side and a wrong side’.6 Linda Hutcheon has noted the sense of duality which marks the colonial,7 and it is to such ‘doubleness’ that Brodber refers in describing imperial discourse in post-independence Jamaica as ‘a ghost that talked through black faces’.8 This notion of doubleness, of contending discourses, is reflected in the novel’s complex web of linguistic variation.

8In Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home, several communities interact, each with its own cultural agenda and related set of linguistic patterns. One line of Nellie’s ancestry insists on using the Queen’s English, the language of the educated, upwardly mobile. Another line is comfortable using Jamaican Creole, the language of the majority of black, partially-educated, working-class Jamaicans. But these speech communities, as represented in the text, should not be seen as evidence of a simple bilingualism. Jamaican Creole, like Trinidadian Creole, is not one homogeneous system, but a complex of styles and registers into which all speakers fit at some point or other. Standard English may be hegemonic, but it is constantly interfered with by non-standard linguistic registers in the West Indian situation. One example used to great comic and ideologically subversive effect occurs in Samuel Selvon’s 1975 novel Moses Ascending, where the Trinidadian Moses’ attempt to write the polished, literary English he values is consistently sabotaged by his own Creole register which undercuts the imperial hegemony.

9Most linguists agree that in Jamaica, like in Trinidad, there is a language continuum ranging from acrolect (Jamaican Standard English) through to basilect (‘broad Creole’), with intermediate – mesolectal – registers. Speakers ‘code shift’ or ‘style range’ along the spectrum according to the social context of the speech situation. Code-switching within the continuum is a matter of performance, of behavioural realization, since one’s speech is often an important indication of membership in a certain ethnic, occupational, age or peer group, of one’s class or level of education. Shifting from one lect to another implies shifting social positions. Thus Nellie, in the bosom of her rural family, uses a mesolectal variety of Creole nearer to the basilect: ‘But is not me one frighten. Everybody else frighten too and quiet, quiet, when my father stop talking’ (p. 14). Yet Nellie, the grown-up schoolgirl who lives in a city, speaking to her middle-class Aunt Becca (with whom she is on less intimate terms), switches to a more acrolectal register: ‘But I am sixteen, a prefect at school and a patrol leader. You let me go on hikes, you let me go to evening song and speech festival by myself at night. I don’t understand’ (p. 16). Later, the adult Nellie slips from her careful, educated speech into nearly basilectal Creole, in the heat of her anger at Baba, a rastaman who makes fun of her: ‘You understand this dam shameless rasta-man who is to tell me that he wants to watch me grow. You understand this r...c...t of a hun from nowhere who is to watch and observe me. What the hell he think he is. Man don’t let me...’ (p. 71).

  • 9 The Anancy stories belong to the tradition of story-telling in the Caribbean. Anancy is the spider- (...)

10Speakers are very rarely limited to one single lect and, particularly in the urban environment where social mobility and class interaction are more common, verbal adaptability is a useful skill, as is code-switching and role playing. Tia’s advice to her ‘khakhi’ – mixed race – children concerning their language – ‘you mustn’t say bway, you must say bai. Talk like your father’ (p. 138) – is an injunction to identify themselves with his privileged status. Assumption of identity through choice of speech register is a valuable camouflage. This is reflected in Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home (pp. 123-30) in the parable of Anancy’s escape from Dryhead’s kingdom through role playing.9 Assuming the pose of a humble, broken man, who has no option but to deliver his children to the tyrant, Anancy says: ‘I broke, I los’, I bow to you. You is King. I just can’t make it, can’t mek it at all. I bring the children them. All of them’ (pp. 125-6). He has been caught poaching, but explains the fishy smell in his boat as the result of his heartbroken children overturning it in an attempt to stop their father. And, verbally gifted as he is, Anancy is quick to seize on and manipulate the weaknesses of others. Firefly’s inability to distinguish linguistically between the singular and plural tense means that he is visually confused as to whether Anancy has brought one child or many. This leads to Anancy’s master-stroke: the double meaning behind his public vilification of his child / children, ‘Go eena kumbla:’ ‘To Dryhead and his court, this was a bad word that only a man so torn with grief could utter to his child. To Tacuma, it meant: find yourself a camouflage and get back into the store house’ (p. 128). By role play and linguistic skills, Anancy manages to erect a deceptive facade for his captors, and then to escape through it.

11The manifestation of ‘doubleness’ – code-switching, role playing, the assumption of camouflages (kumblas) are central to Brodber’s text, and essential survival strategies for Nellie. But choosing one model or role of femaleness necessitates a denial of other aspects of womanhood, at the expense of self-integration; whereas the cousins are imaged as womb at the expense of intellect, the ‘cracked doll’ is a head without connection to a sexual body. Competing linguistic registers reflect the complex of race, class and gender options with which Nellie must grapple – a kind of multiple choice life test.

  • 10 Erna Brodber, Perceptions of Caribbean Women, p. 90.

12For a time she retreats into her kumbla. Nellie’s emergence involves recognition of the diversity of Creole society, where she need not choose between polarized gender, class or racial extremes. Psychic and emotional reintegration becoming a ‘walking-talking human being’ instead of a role-playing zombie – necessitates acceptance of her plural heritage. By moving fluidly between speech registers and literary styles, the form of Brodber’s text implicitly encodes this regenerative strategy. So, when Nellie screams Creole expletives at Baba, he congratulates her on having found her language (having recuperated that part of the continuum previously repressed in her playing out a scripted role) and says ‘Next thing you’ll be telling me where I come from and that would really be telling as you know’ (p. 71). There is double meaning here, too. To tell someone where they come from is part of the abusive ritual of ‘tracing’, in Jamaica, as elsewhere in the Caribbean, entailing a graphic and insulting description of sexual origin. For Nellie ‘to come down to this level’, to re-acknowledge the earthly aspect of sexuality in general and her own in particular, is something of a breakthrough in the ‘coming together’ of her dissociated self. Baba’s statement operates also on a more standard level and, in the final section of the novel, Nellie does tell of their shared origins. In this association of personal and political therapy, Brodber explains the necessity of acknowledging one’s origins in order to look to the future – a future of a heterogeneous cultural identity. This process includes acknowledging and accepting the history of one’s homeland, destroying familiar and therefore reassuring myths and accepting uncomfortable realities.10

  • 11 Carolyn Cooper, ‘Afro-American Folk Elements in Brodber’s Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home’, in (...)

13Like the dub version, Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home demonstrates the need to explore all options without being bound by any one definition; in postcolonial terms, the binary oppositions within which the colonial subject is written are rejected, in favour of plurality – a context which may fragment the subject, but out of which creative futures can be made. In the end, the text articulates a political theory. Tolerance, even espousal of the continuum – of language / gender, roles / ancestral affiliation – is necessary for a meaningful representation of a Creole reality. Nellie may, of course, choose to identify for a time with one register rather than another, but acknowledging that her heritage is as hybrid as Jamaican Creole is her key discovery and the source of her new strength. Brodber’s use of the central framing device of the creolized English quadrille dance, and the children’s ring game derived from it (the ‘Jane and Louisa will soon come home’ refrain of this game gives the title to the novel) suggests the adaptive capacity of neo-African folk culture in Jamaica, its conscription of English folk traditions for its own enrichment: fiddling with their dance!11 This is a typical postcolonial dub version appropriation.

  • 12 Lorna Goodison, ‘How I Became a Writer’, in Cudjoe, p. 290.
  • 13 Michelle Cliff, ‘Clare Savage as a Crossroads Character’, in Cudjoe, p. 264.
  • 14 John D’Costa, ‘Bra Rabbit Meets Peter rabbit: Genre, Audience and the Artistic Imagination: Problem (...)
  • 15 Velma Pollard, ‘Mothertongue Voices in the Writing of Olive Senior and Lorna Goodison’, in Nasta, e (...)
  • 16 See, for example, Carolyn Cooper, ‘Writing Oral History: SISTREN Theatre Collective’s Lionheart Gal(...)
  • 17 Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths and Helen Tiffin, The Empire Writes Back, Routledge (London, 1989), (...)

14Other West Indian women writers explicitly note the coexistence of multiple traditions as the source of their creativity. Lorna Goodison feels that the ‘double language, which is part of my (Jamaican) heritage, is one of the main influences on my work...’12 Similarly, Michelle Cliff speaks of ‘inventing my own peculiar speech, one that attempts to draw together everything I am and have been, both Caliban and Ariel and a liberated and synthesized version of each.’13 The urge for multiplicity, for replacing notions of ‘our language’ versus ‘their language’ with a recognition of a range of linguistic and cultural options, is widespread among Caribbean women writers. For John D’Costa, the ‘fusion of differing linguistic and generic codes... [is] the primary challenge to the new writer.’14 Velma Pollard is particularly astute in demonstrating how exploitation of linguistic tensions in West Indian texts by women serves to dramatize the variant social and cultural determinants, the ‘contending discourses’ at work in their societies.15 A careful study of how her own fiction and poetry enact this variation to telling effect, is overdue. This debate reflects the continuing oral / scribal debate in women’s writing within the region.16 And, as noted, in fiction a playful irreverence operates with respect to variation. If, as Ashcroft, Griffiths and Tiffin maintain, ‘in writing out of the condition of Otherness’, postcolonial texts assert the complex of intersecting ‘peripheries’ as the actual substance of experience, such a perspective is even more integral to reading West Indian female-authored fictions.17

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Notes

1 Erna Brodber, Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home, New Beacon Books (London, 1980).

2 The kumbla is a Jamaican term meaning literary calabash, a symbolically enclosed space, carrying the sense of lack of space and even of language. The subject which withdraws into the kumbla cannot communicate with the world outside; when it comes out, it is supposed to have undergone a transformation and development.

3 Erna Brodber, Perceptions of Caribbean Women: Towards a Documentation of Stereotypes, ISER (Cave Hill, Barbados, 1982) and ‘Fiction in the Scientific Procedure’, in Selwyn R. Cudjoe, Caribbean Women Writers: Essays from the First International Conference, Wellesley, Mass.: Callaloo, 1990.

4 Erna Brodber, Perceptions of Caribbean Women, p. 83.

5 Merle Hodge, Crick, Crack, Monkey, Heinemann (London, 1988).

6 Crick, Crack, Monkey, p. 62.

7 Linda Hutcheon, ‘‘Circling the Downspout of Empire’: Post-Colonialism and Post-Modernism’, Ariel 20-4 October, 1989, pp. 149-75.

8 Erna Brodber, ‘Fiction in the Scientific Procedure’, in Selwyn R. Cudjoe, Caribbean Women Writers: Essays from the First International Conference, Callaloo (Wellesley, Mass., 1990), p. 165.

9 The Anancy stories belong to the tradition of story-telling in the Caribbean. Anancy is the spider-person, a hero originating from Ghana as the Ashanti spider God. By the time he is translated into the Caribbean, Anancy is all trickster, cunning, guile. His myth has informed the structure and supplied the ethic for numerous Caribbean short stories and many novels.

10 Erna Brodber, Perceptions of Caribbean Women, p. 90.

11 Carolyn Cooper, ‘Afro-American Folk Elements in Brodber’s Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come Home’, in Boyce Davies and Fido, eds., Out of the Kumbla, Africa World Press (Trenton, 1996). p. 280.

12 Lorna Goodison, ‘How I Became a Writer’, in Cudjoe, p. 290.

13 Michelle Cliff, ‘Clare Savage as a Crossroads Character’, in Cudjoe, p. 264.

14 John D’Costa, ‘Bra Rabbit Meets Peter rabbit: Genre, Audience and the Artistic Imagination: Problems in Writing Children’s Fiction, in Cudjoe, p. 259.

15 Velma Pollard, ‘Mothertongue Voices in the Writing of Olive Senior and Lorna Goodison’, in Nasta, ed., Mothertongues, Women’s Press (London, 1991), p. 249.

16 See, for example, Carolyn Cooper, ‘Writing Oral History: SISTREN Theatre Collective’s Lionheart Gal’, in Stephen Slemon, and Helen Tiffin, eds., After Europe, Dangaroo (Mundelstrup, 1989), pp. 49-57, on narrative form in Sistren’s Lionheart Gal. Cooper’s experimental theorizing in Jamaican Creole is itself a significant input into the discussion.

17 Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths and Helen Tiffin, The Empire Writes Back, Routledge (London, 1989), p. 78.

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References

Bibliographical reference

Emilia Ippolito, “Women’s Version and Dub Version: Paradigms of Creolisation of Culture in Erna Brodber’s Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come HomeCommonwealth Essays and Studies, 23.1 | 2000, 49-55.

Electronic reference

Emilia Ippolito, “Women’s Version and Dub Version: Paradigms of Creolisation of Culture in Erna Brodber’s Jane and Louisa Will Soon Come HomeCommonwealth Essays and Studies [Online], 23.1 | 2000, Online since 12 April 2022, connection on 14 December 2024. URL: http://0-journals-openedition-org.catalogue.libraries.london.ac.uk/ces/12194; DOI: https://0-doi-org.catalogue.libraries.london.ac.uk/10.4000/12498

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About the author

Emilia Ippolito

Université Strasbourg 2

Emilia Ippolito has published on women Caribbean writers. She lectures at the Université Marc Bloch in Strasbourg.

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The text only may be used under licence CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. All other elements (illustrations, imported files) are “All rights reserved”, unless otherwise stated.

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