Trinidad Noir

I bought Trinidad Noir and read each story with the greatest interest. Lisa Allen-Agostini wrote one of my favorites but there are many great ones in this collection. Truth is, not a weak link in the chain, all the stories terrific in different ways. Some like poems wandering in and out of the tricky emotional and physical landscape of Trinidad. Some get right under your skin and you'll read them twice: Oonya Kempadoo's opening line "Trinidad never promised me anything" stays with me as does her nettly, sweet pungent story. The smuggler's morality tale by Willi Chen has this line: "All my life I have been a wretched soul" and I was stuck like glue to this story. Baldeosingh's rape in the cane is like no rape you've ever read or heard about in your life and I loved the last line of the story: "In the clear light of the moon, the man's eyes were open and aware and staring mutely at her." The beauty of this story is that it's somehow moral, immoral and amoral all at the same time. Shani Mootoo's sex, death, and butterflies is another stunner. Tiphanie Yanique's story -- well, I read this three times, savoring it more with each reading. But the greatest you-win-you-lose-you-win story is Agostini's Pot Luck. I was hooked when I read this lovely line -- "She always left him, wandering off like a cat without provocation or explanation..." Single lines at the front and the end of a story often tell me if I'm going to like it, and all of these -- I can't possibly mention every writer though I'd like to! -- have lines of tense, prophetic poetry. I've always sided with those who tell tales this way, as if poetry were the story's real reason for being. All of these noir moments are alive and that is their greatest virtue. Nothing else matters as long as the stories breathe. And these do. Every single one of them.

This book is an enjoyable read, with a lot of details from Trinidad life and culture. It's great to have a collection that represents many members of the writing community.