I didn’t mean to read more Literature with a Capital L, but a coworker I like and trust recommended this book to me, citing its poetic prose, and hooboy is that an accurate assessment. This is exactly the sort of story that shows us why diversity in our authors is important. It tells the story of a Jamaican woman who, after a hurricane, finds herself hosting an amnesiac man, who she can’t help but notice is easy on the eyes. Romance ensues.
I say this story shows us why diversity in authors is important because it is a quintessential example of perspective I couldn’t experience myself. One of the moments that stands out here is when the narrator muses about her neighbor’s red underwear, half-musing about its practicality as period panties, half-wondering about the sexiness of said underwear. That is the sort of consideration I’d never have come to without these voices as part of the conversation.
Maybe my favorite example of this though is when she finds her erstwhile guest masturbating (outside), to what she can only assume is thoughts of her, given that they’ve been flirting up to this point. She is one part disturbed, but like, four parts into it and ready to mingle. I’m really not doing it justice, but as a guy, I have a very set sense of what sexuality is, and reading what felt like an earnest take capturing the complexities of a woman’s pursuing a guy was a new perspective for me.
I don’t have a lot more to say about this because the story was brief, and it’s not a plot-heavy production so much as it is a study in style. It’s worth the three hours the audiobook takes of your time, go give ‘er a listen.
