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The Dragon Can't Dance (Longman Caribbean Writers) by Earl Lovelace
'A landmark, not in the West Indian, but in the contemporary novel.' C. L. R. James'First-class talent.' The VoiceTrinidad, 1970s. Calvary Hill - poverty stricken and rubbish-strewn ��- is home to a community of people who come together during the joyful yearly town Carnival, becoming larger-than-life versions of themselves. But when it ends, and the strains of day-to-day life grow large, what happens to the peoples' hopes, and the feeling that 'all o' we is one'?With an unforgettable cast of characters, The Dragon Can't Dance is a stunning, classic novel of the desire for identity and belonging, alongside the legacies of a colonial past.
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First published January 1, 1979
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About the author
Earl Lovelace
20 books93 followersNovelist, playwright and short-story writer Earl Lovelace was born in Toco, Trinidad in 1935 and grew up in Tobago. He worked for the Trinidad Guardian, then for the Department of Forestry and later as an agricultural assistant for the Department of Agriculture, gaining an intimate knowledge of rural Trinidad that has informed much of his fiction.
He studied in the United States at Howard University, Washington (1966-7) and received his MA in English from Johns Hopkins University in 1974. In 1980 he was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship and spent that year at the University of Iowa. After teaching at a number of other American universities, Lovelace returned to Trinidad in 1982, where he now lives and writes, teaching at the University of the West Indies. A collection of his plays, Jestina's Calypso and Other Plays, was published in 1984.
His first novel, While Gods Are Falling, was published in 1965 and won the British Petroleum Independence Literary Award. It was followed by The Schoolmaster (1968), about the impact of the arrival of a new teacher in a remote community. His third novel, The Dragon Can't Dance (1979), regarded by many critics as his best work, describes the rejuvenating effects of carnival on the inhabitants of a slum on the outskirts of Port of Spain. In The Wine of Astonishment (1982) he examines popular religion through the story of a member of the Baptist Church in a rural village. His most recent novel, Salt, was published in 1996 and won the Commonwealth Writers Prize (Overall Winner, Best Book) in 1997. Set in Trinidad, the book explores the legacy of colonialism and slavery and the problems still faced by the country through the story of Alford George, a teacher turned politician.
He studied in the United States at Howard University, Washington (1966-7) and received his MA in English from Johns Hopkins University in 1974. In 1980 he was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship and spent that year at the University of Iowa. After teaching at a number of other American universities, Lovelace returned to Trinidad in 1982, where he now lives and writes, teaching at the University of the West Indies. A collection of his plays, Jestina's Calypso and Other Plays, was published in 1984.
His first novel, While Gods Are Falling, was published in 1965 and won the British Petroleum Independence Literary Award. It was followed by The Schoolmaster (1968), about the impact of the arrival of a new teacher in a remote community. His third novel, The Dragon Can't Dance (1979), regarded by many critics as his best work, describes the rejuvenating effects of carnival on the inhabitants of a slum on the outskirts of Port of Spain. In The Wine of Astonishment (1982) he examines popular religion through the story of a member of the Baptist Church in a rural village. His most recent novel, Salt, was published in 1996 and won the Commonwealth Writers Prize (Overall Winner, Best Book) in 1997. Set in Trinidad, the book explores the legacy of colonialism and slavery and the problems still faced by the country through the story of Alford George, a teacher turned politician.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 89 reviews
October 13, 2009
I had forgotten how stunning this book is. On this rereading, I found the prologue, on poverty and futility, so poignant and painful that I was minded to desist, and pick up something light and insubstantial instead. I persisted and am rewarded with an engaging narrative of the stories of individuals; the ripening girl destined for whoredom; the vigorous young man seeking to release his energy in warfare; the frustrated artist, with a single annual outlet for his creativity; the outsider, seeking to be seen, to be recognised.
Lovelace is writing about Trinidad, Carnival and its part in the life of the people, Calypso and Steelband, the Black Power Movement of the late 60s. The story is set in Port of Spain around the time I was born, and I feel like I can recognise individuals, not just types. I suspect my parents would find it an accurate representation of the zeitgeist. Some of the stories, I have heard before:
I wonder if the material would have been better shaped into a novella, and short stories/sketches aboout the Calypsonian, the Badjohn, the aging Carnival Queen. This isn't a wholly successful novel. Lovelace isn't as polished as Naipaul, but he inhabits his writing, heart and soul. He moves me so much more. Here is the conclusion to the prologue section, Carnival
I am not doing Lovelace and his novel justice. But I recommend it highly, to mature readers who appreciate lyrical writing, and do not require a happy ending. It may take some time, as well to adjust to the dialogue which is in Trinidadian dialect.
Lovelace is writing about Trinidad, Carnival and its part in the life of the people, Calypso and Steelband, the Black Power Movement of the late 60s. The story is set in Port of Spain around the time I was born, and I feel like I can recognise individuals, not just types. I suspect my parents would find it an accurate representation of the zeitgeist. Some of the stories, I have heard before:
This is the hill tall above the city where Taffy, a man who say he is Christ, put himself up on a cross one burning midday and say to his followers: 'Crucify me! Let me die for my people. Stone me with stones as you stone Jesus, I will love you still.' And when they start to stone him in truth he get vex and start to cuss: 'Get me down! Get me down!' he say. 'Let every sinnerman bear his own blasted burden; who is I to die for people who ain't have sense enough to know that they can't pelt a man with big stones when so much little pebbles lying on the ground.'
I wonder if the material would have been better shaped into a novella, and short stories/sketches aboout the Calypsonian, the Badjohn, the aging Carnival Queen. This isn't a wholly successful novel. Lovelace isn't as polished as Naipaul, but he inhabits his writing, heart and soul. He moves me so much more. Here is the conclusion to the prologue section, Carnival
Now, the steelband tent will become a cathedral, and these young men priests. They will draw from back pockets those rubber-tipped sticks, which they had carried around all year, as the one link to the music that is their life, their soul, and touch them to the cracked faces of the drums. Hours, hours; days, days; for weeks they beat these drums, beat these drums, hammering out from them a cry, the cry, the sound, stroking them more gently than they will ever caress a woman; and then they have it. At last, they have it. They have the tune that will sing their person and their pose, that will soar over the hill, ring over the valley of shacks, and laugh the hard tears of their living when, for Carnival, they enter Port of Spain.
I am not doing Lovelace and his novel justice. But I recommend it highly, to mature readers who appreciate lyrical writing, and do not require a happy ending. It may take some time, as well to adjust to the dialogue which is in Trinidadian dialect.
June 24, 2019
Indeed, their effort at rebellion was just a dragon dance.... We really had them frighten. We had them wondering if we was going to shoot down the town or what. We really play a mas' eh, Aldrick? You couldn't play a better dragon."
Earl Lovelace is a master storyteller. He is a writer and he knows how to write. I was utterly enthralled with the lives of everyone on Calvary Hill. Lovelace's writing makes you feel invested. What I especially loved about this book was the social commentary, set in the 1970s you really get a feeling of what life in Trinidad and Tobago was like.
If you are looking for a well written look into life in Trinidad and Tobago during the 1970s, look no further.
Earl Lovelace is a master storyteller. He is a writer and he knows how to write. I was utterly enthralled with the lives of everyone on Calvary Hill. Lovelace's writing makes you feel invested. What I especially loved about this book was the social commentary, set in the 1970s you really get a feeling of what life in Trinidad and Tobago was like.
If you are looking for a well written look into life in Trinidad and Tobago during the 1970s, look no further.
October 28, 2016
Earl Lovelace’s novel left me spellbound with how possibly to express its beauty and brilliance. With the hypnotic lyricism of its prose, the intricacy of its story, and the depth to which Lovelace investigates the struggles of an entire community, this book is an extraordinary piece of art. Only the great Naguib Mahfouz comes to mind as having a similar ability as Lovelace in probing the psychological and emotional depths of his characters.
The story takes places in the poverty-stricken shantytown of Cavalry Hill in Trinidad. The plot focuses around the festival of Carnival each year. In this impoverished setting and during the transcendent yearly event of the Carnival celebration, Lovelace takes readers into the lives of a range of characters with all their pain and joy, their failures and triumphs, and their shame and redemption. There is Cleothilda, the hostile shop owner; Sylvia, the gorgeous maiden; Fisheye, the wayward combatant; Philo, the calypsonian dreamer; Pariag, the minority outcast; and Aldrick, the dragon masquerader himself. Each of them carries a lifelong weight of both wounds and dreams.
In particular, Aldrick is the focal figure. He is the one who most symbolically undergoes a spiritual transformation each year when he dons his dragon costume. When he becomes the dragon, he asserts both his humanity and his dangerousness, while also reminding himself of his past and his need to survive. Everyone attempts to escape their harsh reality by entering the realm of their masquerade during Carnival. The festival temporarily transports them into their dreams and out of the dismal situation of their lives. They each strive to reach a feeling of hope. After the yearly gala ends, however, problems arise when the people must return to their daily hardships. Lovelace charts these phases and transitions with great compassion and empathy. He scrutinizes the dynamics of race and class distinctions. He traces the emotions and motives that drive his characters to survive, and he also examines what pushes them beyond their threshold of tolerance to a condition where they snap.
The Dragon Can’t Dance is the type of unforgettable narrative that embeds itself in your thoughts. It affirms the power of literature to explore the essence of truth and to address the meaning of humanity. Lovelace is a master at showing us how within a destitute community, the yearning to live, grow, and have hope is no different for people anywhere in the world, regardless of their station in life.
The story takes places in the poverty-stricken shantytown of Cavalry Hill in Trinidad. The plot focuses around the festival of Carnival each year. In this impoverished setting and during the transcendent yearly event of the Carnival celebration, Lovelace takes readers into the lives of a range of characters with all their pain and joy, their failures and triumphs, and their shame and redemption. There is Cleothilda, the hostile shop owner; Sylvia, the gorgeous maiden; Fisheye, the wayward combatant; Philo, the calypsonian dreamer; Pariag, the minority outcast; and Aldrick, the dragon masquerader himself. Each of them carries a lifelong weight of both wounds and dreams.
In particular, Aldrick is the focal figure. He is the one who most symbolically undergoes a spiritual transformation each year when he dons his dragon costume. When he becomes the dragon, he asserts both his humanity and his dangerousness, while also reminding himself of his past and his need to survive. Everyone attempts to escape their harsh reality by entering the realm of their masquerade during Carnival. The festival temporarily transports them into their dreams and out of the dismal situation of their lives. They each strive to reach a feeling of hope. After the yearly gala ends, however, problems arise when the people must return to their daily hardships. Lovelace charts these phases and transitions with great compassion and empathy. He scrutinizes the dynamics of race and class distinctions. He traces the emotions and motives that drive his characters to survive, and he also examines what pushes them beyond their threshold of tolerance to a condition where they snap.
The Dragon Can’t Dance is the type of unforgettable narrative that embeds itself in your thoughts. It affirms the power of literature to explore the essence of truth and to address the meaning of humanity. Lovelace is a master at showing us how within a destitute community, the yearning to live, grow, and have hope is no different for people anywhere in the world, regardless of their station in life.
December 5, 2020
this book is about a bunch of old men lusting after a teenager and feeling sorry for themselves
November 21, 2020
First review, 11/26/12:
Earl Lovelace's The Dragon Can't Dance, set in Trinidad, positions the complex ritual of Carnival in a socio-political context. Unpacking Carnival is synonymous with examining the Caribbean self, as Aldrick journeys from an anonymous masquerade dragon to an authentic self.
Lovelace explores characters from various backgrounds, exploring the transformation each undergoes as consumerism and corporate influence creep into Carnival. From the 'bad John,' Fisheye, to the rising calypso star Philo, each character is transformed and contributes to the transformation of Aldrick.
At the novel's center is the romance between Aldrick and Sylvia. Across the years and Carnivals, the two do a dance of self-discovery which is not overblown or over dramatic. Their love story is, instead, understated and believable, and represents a solid foundation for a novel with perfect prose and pacing.
Second review, 3/24/17:
As I am revisiting these various novels in advance of my PhD oral examination, I think this is yet another novel so tremendous that I could not fully articulate its significance. Frankly, I probably will never be able to "fully articulate" the significance of this novel, but images from it have haunted me for the years since reading it. I've seen images of Aldrick in his dragon costume, Sylvia dancing just out of his reach. Images of Aldrick's soliloquy from the police van. Images, speculative though they may be, of Sylvia as a freedom fighter trekking through the El Cerro del Aripo mountains.
Earl Lovelace paints such a vivid picture of Calvary Hill from the outset. His prologue with the unhappy crucified man, resenting people for stoning him, matches up with episodes from Naipaul's Miguel Street and Selvon's The Lonely Londoners. Beyond that, the four major characters, Aldrick, Fisheye, Pariag, and Sylvia, nearly get their own novel within the text. That is not to say that the book is overly long, but there is something so vivid about each of these character's stories. Though one might argue that Philo is more significant than Sylvia, his position in the novel is that of a witness. Sylvia, too, does not get the same treatment as the other characters mentioned. She is a conspicuous absence from the text, Lovelace making clear that he may have some anxiety about writing from the perspective of women characters. But still, she is vivid nonetheless as the various opinions of her behavior and observations of her constitute a fully realized character who also serves as a formal lynchpin.
Aldrick's coming into political awareness is stirring, as he grasps toward an articulation of the slow commercialization of Carnival and homogenization of Calvary Hill in his soliloquy from the police van. And yet, it is only prison that can draw out a full political praxis from Aldrick, one that makes him a revolutionary but also radically isolated.
The novel interrogates questions of power and people, what is power and what constitutes "a people"? And what is the connection between the two? For Aldrick, it seems that the answer is that some degree of political power, some degree of or will to self-determination, is required for solidarity and the interconnectedness he, Fisheye, and Pariag are looking for. When Pariag asks "Maybe the Creole people just fuck-up" (147), he stumbles upon a truth that beyond rote ideas of colonial neurosis, the oppressive situation makes idealized connection difficult. Pariag sees himself as an outside, but what he doesn't realize is that the groups he envies are simply comprised of individuals rather than people who are experiencing the fantasmatic connection Pariag dreams of. As Malcolm X said to a group of Tuskegee students on February 3, 1965, "I believe in brotherhood, but my religion does not blind me to the fact that I am living in a society where brotherhood cannot exist." Trinidad, as a consequence of racial and economic oppression, is also such a society.
The Dragon Can't Dance is an epic. The stories are larger than life, the characters are unforgettable, and the prose is spectacular. My brief remarks are just one partial reading of a novel that can be mined endlessly for significance and signification. I'm sure when I return to this novel, I'll find something different to fixate on. Lovelace is one of the greatest living authors, period.
Earl Lovelace's The Dragon Can't Dance, set in Trinidad, positions the complex ritual of Carnival in a socio-political context. Unpacking Carnival is synonymous with examining the Caribbean self, as Aldrick journeys from an anonymous masquerade dragon to an authentic self.
Lovelace explores characters from various backgrounds, exploring the transformation each undergoes as consumerism and corporate influence creep into Carnival. From the 'bad John,' Fisheye, to the rising calypso star Philo, each character is transformed and contributes to the transformation of Aldrick.
At the novel's center is the romance between Aldrick and Sylvia. Across the years and Carnivals, the two do a dance of self-discovery which is not overblown or over dramatic. Their love story is, instead, understated and believable, and represents a solid foundation for a novel with perfect prose and pacing.
Second review, 3/24/17:
As I am revisiting these various novels in advance of my PhD oral examination, I think this is yet another novel so tremendous that I could not fully articulate its significance. Frankly, I probably will never be able to "fully articulate" the significance of this novel, but images from it have haunted me for the years since reading it. I've seen images of Aldrick in his dragon costume, Sylvia dancing just out of his reach. Images of Aldrick's soliloquy from the police van. Images, speculative though they may be, of Sylvia as a freedom fighter trekking through the El Cerro del Aripo mountains.
Earl Lovelace paints such a vivid picture of Calvary Hill from the outset. His prologue with the unhappy crucified man, resenting people for stoning him, matches up with episodes from Naipaul's Miguel Street and Selvon's The Lonely Londoners. Beyond that, the four major characters, Aldrick, Fisheye, Pariag, and Sylvia, nearly get their own novel within the text. That is not to say that the book is overly long, but there is something so vivid about each of these character's stories. Though one might argue that Philo is more significant than Sylvia, his position in the novel is that of a witness. Sylvia, too, does not get the same treatment as the other characters mentioned. She is a conspicuous absence from the text, Lovelace making clear that he may have some anxiety about writing from the perspective of women characters. But still, she is vivid nonetheless as the various opinions of her behavior and observations of her constitute a fully realized character who also serves as a formal lynchpin.
Aldrick's coming into political awareness is stirring, as he grasps toward an articulation of the slow commercialization of Carnival and homogenization of Calvary Hill in his soliloquy from the police van. And yet, it is only prison that can draw out a full political praxis from Aldrick, one that makes him a revolutionary but also radically isolated.
The novel interrogates questions of power and people, what is power and what constitutes "a people"? And what is the connection between the two? For Aldrick, it seems that the answer is that some degree of political power, some degree of or will to self-determination, is required for solidarity and the interconnectedness he, Fisheye, and Pariag are looking for. When Pariag asks "Maybe the Creole people just fuck-up" (147), he stumbles upon a truth that beyond rote ideas of colonial neurosis, the oppressive situation makes idealized connection difficult. Pariag sees himself as an outside, but what he doesn't realize is that the groups he envies are simply comprised of individuals rather than people who are experiencing the fantasmatic connection Pariag dreams of. As Malcolm X said to a group of Tuskegee students on February 3, 1965, "I believe in brotherhood, but my religion does not blind me to the fact that I am living in a society where brotherhood cannot exist." Trinidad, as a consequence of racial and economic oppression, is also such a society.
The Dragon Can't Dance is an epic. The stories are larger than life, the characters are unforgettable, and the prose is spectacular. My brief remarks are just one partial reading of a novel that can be mined endlessly for significance and signification. I'm sure when I return to this novel, I'll find something different to fixate on. Lovelace is one of the greatest living authors, period.
May 20, 2007
Like a record by an unknown genius picked at random out of a dollar bin at goodwill, this book, when I brought it home and unleashed it, actually (truly) made me want to dance. Written in “poor-talk,” a highly lyrical Trinidadian Pidgin English which allows for incredible and delightful feats of linguistic dexterity, Lovelace’s 250 page novel depicts the beautifully chaotic, pot-holed, garbage-strewn life of a small shantytown on the outskirts of Port of Spain, Trinidad, as its inhabitants prepare for Carnival. The lovingly-rendered characters (failed and famous Calypsonians, depressed costume makers, alienated Indian shopkeepers, vitriolic barmaids, drunken steel-drummers, gorgeous widows, and “bad-johns”) all struggle against the nihilism and despair that their poverty engenders, as they are drawn together for the annual transformative ritual which allows them a glimpse into their mythical dream-world – a world where “All-o-we is one,” where,
"with carnival coming, radios go on full blast, trembling these shacks, booming out calypsos, the songs that announce in this season the new rhythms for people to walk in, rhythms that climb over the red dirt and stone, break-away rhythms that laugh through the groans of these sights, these smells, that swim through the bones of these enduring people so that they shout: Life! They cry: Hurrah! They drink rum and say: Fuck it! They walk with a tall hot beauty between the garbage and dogshit, proclaiming life, exulting in the bare bones of their person and their skin."
A tragic-comic exploration of Trinidad’s messy racial and economic legacies, a musical and excessive celebration befitting Carnival itself, a book of wild stylistic experimentation, it’s also a heartbreaking tale about one man’s search for ‘personhood,’ community, and hope in the midst of desperate, crushing poverty.
A must read for anyone interested in Trinidad, Carnival traditions, or good books.
"with carnival coming, radios go on full blast, trembling these shacks, booming out calypsos, the songs that announce in this season the new rhythms for people to walk in, rhythms that climb over the red dirt and stone, break-away rhythms that laugh through the groans of these sights, these smells, that swim through the bones of these enduring people so that they shout: Life! They cry: Hurrah! They drink rum and say: Fuck it! They walk with a tall hot beauty between the garbage and dogshit, proclaiming life, exulting in the bare bones of their person and their skin."
A tragic-comic exploration of Trinidad’s messy racial and economic legacies, a musical and excessive celebration befitting Carnival itself, a book of wild stylistic experimentation, it’s also a heartbreaking tale about one man’s search for ‘personhood,’ community, and hope in the midst of desperate, crushing poverty.
A must read for anyone interested in Trinidad, Carnival traditions, or good books.
October 21, 2012
The main character in this novel is not really Aldrick, who plays the dragon, or Fish-eye the "bad-john", or anyone else, but the district of Calvary Hill itself. Earl Lovelace introduces us to a range of different characters who live in Calvary Hill, a poor district on the edge of Port-of-Spain, and we follow them through the years as the neighbourhood changes and the characters are caught between embracing the new and regretting the loss of the old.
Carnival plays a major role in the novel. I heard Earl Lovelace speak about this at Bim Literary Festival in Barbados recently and he said "Carnival is welcoming people into a space, holding up the idea of “all ah we is one” even if it’s not always the case in reality. In music we’re all the same, we’re all human." In this novel he does a great job of exploring this, exposing the cracks in the community for the rest of the year and showing how they are temporarily put aside for carnival. But as things change, even in carnival itself there is division, as some want to get corporate sponsorship and "clean up" carnival, while others want it to retain its traditional, untamed revelry.
Lovelace has tremendous compassion for all his characters and develops them all fully. Although he is compassionate, he is not sentimental, and shows their faults as well, such as their exclusion of the Indian character Pariag. Novels without a focus on a strong central character can sometimes feel a little disjointed, but this one doesn't. I cared about all of the characters, and cared about the fate of Calvary Hill too, as all the characters fight to preserve it in their own very different ways.
Normally there's something about a book that I don't like, but this one really is hard to find fault with. It's a tremendous literary achievement, a moving depiction of a community, and I can wholeheartedly recommend it. Five stars.
Carnival plays a major role in the novel. I heard Earl Lovelace speak about this at Bim Literary Festival in Barbados recently and he said "Carnival is welcoming people into a space, holding up the idea of “all ah we is one” even if it’s not always the case in reality. In music we’re all the same, we’re all human." In this novel he does a great job of exploring this, exposing the cracks in the community for the rest of the year and showing how they are temporarily put aside for carnival. But as things change, even in carnival itself there is division, as some want to get corporate sponsorship and "clean up" carnival, while others want it to retain its traditional, untamed revelry.
Lovelace has tremendous compassion for all his characters and develops them all fully. Although he is compassionate, he is not sentimental, and shows their faults as well, such as their exclusion of the Indian character Pariag. Novels without a focus on a strong central character can sometimes feel a little disjointed, but this one doesn't. I cared about all of the characters, and cared about the fate of Calvary Hill too, as all the characters fight to preserve it in their own very different ways.
Normally there's something about a book that I don't like, but this one really is hard to find fault with. It's a tremendous literary achievement, a moving depiction of a community, and I can wholeheartedly recommend it. Five stars.
June 20, 2017
After reading CLR James' Black Jacobins, my head was ablaze. This was the perfect cool down; humorous and relateable as a fellow Trinidadian. His understanding of his/our culture is manifest here. The trend of anticipating the upcoming Carnival season the day after the end of the current year's festivities live on.
"Who hushed to their bosoms an anger older than themselves"
Lovelace is the master of prose-poetry .
Anthropological/ Social commentary; the analysis of race relations in Trinidad, all wrapped up in an enjoyable story. A pleasure to read. Lively and intriguingly descriptive.
"Who hushed to their bosoms an anger older than themselves"
Lovelace is the master of prose-poetry .
Anthropological/ Social commentary; the analysis of race relations in Trinidad, all wrapped up in an enjoyable story. A pleasure to read. Lively and intriguingly descriptive.
December 9, 2016
A very enjoyable read! Lovelace writes beautifully and is almost Baldwin-esque in his thoughtful prose and perfect imagery.
September 21, 2025
It might be the manic energy of having to read and finish this before class tomorrow, but I really enjoyed The Dragon Can't Dance. The text itself is so rich with detail that reading it once definitely doesn't do it justice — I need to go back and gawp at all those delicious bits of foreshadowing that Lovelace slips in.
I'm a big fan of the narrative structure in the beginning especially. The concept of jumping from character to character in a third person perspective isn't new at all, but the way one character's chapter will end with the appearance of another (Fisheye's bleeds into Aldrick's perspective, then goes to Pariag's, for instance) makes the contrast very compelling to me. As a reader, you're given the external perspective on a particular character, almost like how perception in real life is, but then granted the privilege to access their internal thoughts. That established dual social/personal view makes the subsequent narrative so interesting.
Would highly recommend if you have time! I would never have picked this up if it wasn't on my curriculum, and I'm so glad it is.
I'm a big fan of the narrative structure in the beginning especially. The concept of jumping from character to character in a third person perspective isn't new at all, but the way one character's chapter will end with the appearance of another (Fisheye's bleeds into Aldrick's perspective, then goes to Pariag's, for instance) makes the contrast very compelling to me. As a reader, you're given the external perspective on a particular character, almost like how perception in real life is, but then granted the privilege to access their internal thoughts. That established dual social/personal view makes the subsequent narrative so interesting.
Would highly recommend if you have time! I would never have picked this up if it wasn't on my curriculum, and I'm so glad it is.
September 28, 2025
He just felt this sweet, hard, this beautiful gladness to have lived that life and to be here now, walking down the street, alive, and ready to go on. He didn't regret nothing. For he was a good dragon, when he was a dragon - the best, the best in Port of Spain, in Trinidad, in the world. He was the best dragon in the whole fucking world. And just for that he felt he would like to sit down with the fellars who had shared those days with him, with Fisheye and Philo, over a drink, and say: We was good. We was the best. Come, let's go again.
absolutely fucking brilliant oh my god
March 30, 2018
رواية التنين لايمكنه الرقص لإيرل لوفليس من ترينيدادا.
رواية تحكي بشكل مسرحي عن الكرنفال السنوي في إحدى مناطق تريندادا لتقدم من خلاله صورة بانورامية عن السياق التاريخي والاجتماعي والسياسي للمجتمع التريندادي. يمثل الكرنفال قناع يخفي تحته تاريخ من الفقر والبؤس والنضال بدون جدوى نحو مستقبل لا يمكن رؤيته إلا بالوحدة والتضامن. رواية بديعة تقول الكثير عن ماضي ترينداد النضالي وحاضره الذي مازال يعاني من الاستعمار حتى بعد استقلاله من خلال الشخصيات التي يفسح الكاتب المجال لتتقاطع فرديتهم مع السياق الاجتماعي والسياسي حولهم.
رواية تحكي بشكل مسرحي عن الكرنفال السنوي في إحدى مناطق تريندادا لتقدم من خلاله صورة بانورامية عن السياق التاريخي والاجتماعي والسياسي للمجتمع التريندادي. يمثل الكرنفال قناع يخفي تحته تاريخ من الفقر والبؤس والنضال بدون جدوى نحو مستقبل لا يمكن رؤيته إلا بالوحدة والتضامن. رواية بديعة تقول الكثير عن ماضي ترينداد النضالي وحاضره الذي مازال يعاني من الاستعمار حتى بعد استقلاله من خلال الشخصيات التي يفسح الكاتب المجال لتتقاطع فرديتهم مع السياق الاجتماعي والسياسي حولهم.
July 31, 2019
Aldrick Prospect's one responsibility in life is to "play the Dragon" in Trinidad's annual Carnival festival. Outside of his expected role as the menacing beast, he prides himself on having no job, no attachments, and no responsibilities. But when he realizes he has feelings stirring for a young woman named Sylvia, he begins to question his choices.
Nothing in this book happens quite the way one might expect. As the point of view shifts between the characters, we learn too much about them for the any of the usual, easy stereotypes of "boy meets girl" or "man vs. society" stories to sit easily with us. Everyone here is seen through both their own eyes, and the eyes of others, with the roles they choose at Carnival telling us as much about them as the rumors of their neighborhood.
Lovelace manages to capture the rumors and the stereotypes in the thoughts and actions of his characters and to upend them, much the way real people will defy your expectations when you think you understand them.
There are toxic, tough guy characters on the corners acting like toxic tough guys, but they aren't there simply as scenery - they are there to be seen, and they know they derive their power from the same place as a Carnival dragon.
There are musicians, wrestling with the trap of always being poor and out of the spotlight, or of "selling out" and losing their credibility.
And there are outsiders; so many outsiders who don't realize that their place in the neighborhood is already established and iconic.
Through their stories, Lovelace tells you something true about the way we use masks to project ourselves into the world, and how we always manage to be mystified when people don't see us for who we really are.
Nothing in this book happens quite the way one might expect. As the point of view shifts between the characters, we learn too much about them for the any of the usual, easy stereotypes of "boy meets girl" or "man vs. society" stories to sit easily with us. Everyone here is seen through both their own eyes, and the eyes of others, with the roles they choose at Carnival telling us as much about them as the rumors of their neighborhood.
Lovelace manages to capture the rumors and the stereotypes in the thoughts and actions of his characters and to upend them, much the way real people will defy your expectations when you think you understand them.
There are toxic, tough guy characters on the corners acting like toxic tough guys, but they aren't there simply as scenery - they are there to be seen, and they know they derive their power from the same place as a Carnival dragon.
There are musicians, wrestling with the trap of always being poor and out of the spotlight, or of "selling out" and losing their credibility.
And there are outsiders; so many outsiders who don't realize that their place in the neighborhood is already established and iconic.
Through their stories, Lovelace tells you something true about the way we use masks to project ourselves into the world, and how we always manage to be mystified when people don't see us for who we really are.
May 19, 2023
Δυνατό σε ορισμένα σημεία , όμως σε άλλα ένιωσα να με κουράζει
March 15, 2025
Very timeless, very of its time
January 13, 2026
The writing felt quite repetitive, but it was a meaningful and surprisingly sad read, highlighting that Carnival is more than just an excuse to drink and party (!!)
February 4, 2025
Leighan has made this book for me
March 1, 2013
An oldie but goodie, set amid the poor residents of Calvary Hill, an urban enclave in Trinidad. I love Lovelace's incredible, patient empathy with his characters. Years go by & they're still plodding along, because that's all they can find to do. But some of them deepen their consciousness & change, personally & politically. It's a very internal novel--gets deep inside the heads of numerous characters. Even when I'm super annoyed with some of them, there's a degree of empathy & caring that the novelist has taught me. What a master.
Bonus: the story includes the most hilarious tale of a political uprising I've ever read.
Bonus: the story includes the most hilarious tale of a political uprising I've ever read.
March 13, 2011
I was forced to read it. It's a good book but it's definitely not something I'd read on my own free will - hence the low score. 1 star stands for "I didn't like it" and I most certainly did not, but it was bearable, so I'll just say it was ok. Objectively speaking, the author portrays what he intends almost flawlessly, with very detailed and crude descriptions of the setting as well as valuable character depth. I'd recommend it if you're sure you like this kind of Genre, but if you share my taste for "shallower-just-for-entertainment" literature, it may tire you.
September 26, 2016
I do think Earl Lovelace has done something very unusual here, which is to get inside the heads of young black guys who inhabit the slums in Trinidad, and have little or nothing to do with their lives. He spends a lot of time in the interiors of his characters, and while it is very interesting, by the end, for me, the book had that age-old problem of telling, instead of showing. The plot was slow and by the end, almost nonexistent. Still, though, worth reading due to the unusual voice and point of view of the author.
March 25, 2010
This novel is an excellent portal into Trinidad; a colorful world of Carnival, calypso, and masquerade. The story is both heartbreaking and touching. The novel revolves around Aldrick, who plays the dragon during Carnival, and his interactions with other people in the neighborhood. There's Fisheye, the neighborhood ruffian, Sylvia, the wild beauty, and Parig, the West Indian outsider. It was an entertaining and educational read that taught me a lot about the culture of Trinidad.
June 25, 2019
New review forthcoming...
December 14, 2013
A must read for any Trinidadian. Lovelace paints a realistic picture of Trinidad's cultural history and highlights the fading spirit of rebellion.
September 26, 2020
My FAVORITE book. It was my first intro into Caribbean literature.
December 12, 2025
Πρώτη δημοσίευση εδώ: https://www.dominicamat.gr/2025/12/bl...
Σε μία χρονιά που από τη μία μεριά ένιωθα να ''πνίγομαι'' μέσα στη μετριότητα πολλών από τα βιβλία που διάβαζα και από την άλλη σε κάποια που ναι μεν πέρασα όντως καλά διαβάζοντάς τα, αλλά αυτό κρατούσε μόνο όση ώρα διαρκούσε η ανάγνωσή των, λίγα είναι πραγματικά εκείνα τα βιβλία που ήρθα σε επαφή μαζί τους και μπορώ να πω ότι τα ξεχώρισα. Και δεν ξέρω πώς συμβαίνει, μα το ''κλείσιμο'' του έτους -σχεδόν κάθε χρονιά- να μου επιφυλάσσει ένα μέρος εκ των καλύτερων αναγνωστικών εμπειριών. Ένα μυθιστόρημα που το επέλεξα -για να είμαι ειλικρινής- κάπως στην τύχη, αφού ο τίτλος του ήταν αυτός που μου κίνησε το ενδιαφέρον σε αρχικό στάδιο, είναι το ''Ο δράκος δεν χορεύει'' (The Dragon Can't Dance) του συγγραφέα Earl Lovelace, το οποίο κυκλοφορεί από τις εκδόσεις Oposito σε μετάφραση της κυρίας Ισιδώρας Στανιμεράκη.
''Η ιστορία μας μεταφέρει στο Τρινιδάδ της Καραϊβικής και συγκεκριμένα στον Λόφο, μια φτωχογειτονιά στα περίχωρα της πρωτεύουσας, Πορτ οφ Σπέιν. Εκεί, κάτω ακριβώς από τη μύτη του εχθρού, όπου «ο ήλιος δύει στην πείνα και ανατέλλει στις λακκούβες των δρόμων», εκτυλίσσεται η άπραγη καθημερινότητα όσων αρνήθηκαν «να τους αλέσει ο μύλος της αποικιοκρατικής μηχανής και να τους ξεράσει σε κόκκους ζάχαρης, κακάο και ψίχα καρύδας»." (Από το οπισθόφυλλο)
Ο συγγραφέας έχει έναν λόγο λυρικό, ρέοντα, σπιρτόζικο και με έντονη θεατρική πρόζα που μας παρασύρει σε έναν χορό των αισθημάτων και των περιγραφικών εικόνων που παρεισφρέουν στη σκέψη και στην ψυχή μας και μας ''σαρώνουν'' συθέμελα με την ανυπότακτη φύση της αλήθειας τους. Μιλάει απευθείας δίχως να αφήνει υπαινιγμούς ούτε να ωραιοποιεί καταστάσεις ούτε και να υποκύπτει στην επιτηδευμένη χρήση περιττών φιοριτούρων και βερμπαλισμών που πιθανότατα θα αποσπούσαν την προσοχή μας από την ουσία ( ; ) των λεγομένων του. Δεν ενδιαφέρεται να γίνει αρεστός, αλλά να μας πει όλα όσα επιθυμεί ακριβώς όπως είναι. Δεν αφήνει τίποτα στην τύχη. Κάθε κεφάλαιο του κειμένου σαν μία άλλη ''πράξη'' θεατρικού έργου, όπου εκεί δεν πρωταγωνιστούν ηθοποιοί, αλλά άνθρωποι αληθινοί με τα όποια θετικά κι αρνητικά της φύσης τους. Άνθρωποι που προσπαθούν να βρουν την ελευθερία μέσα από την εξέγερση/εναντίωση σε ό,τι τους/τις καταπιέζει, μα ταυτοχρόνως αναζητούν αυτήν την ''ασφάλεια'' που τους/τις παρέχει αυτή η ''υποδούλωση''.
Ο έρωτας του κεντρικού πρωταγωνιστή για τη φλογερή γυναίκα που ακούει στο όνομα ''Σύλβια'' μοιάζει σαν να γίνεται ο οδηγός σε όλη αυτήν την ανάγκη για ριζοσπατικοποίηση απέναντι προς ό,τι θεωρείται δεδομένο κι ακλόνητο. Ναι, δεν είναι τόσο εύκολες στην πράξη οι επαναστάσεις όσο λέγονται με τις πομπώδεις, ή, και μη λέξεις. Η στροφή προς την ένοπλη δράση μοιάζει σαν ένας μονόδρομος παραλληλισμός της επιθυμίας να ξεφύγουν από τα όσα άλλοι/ες έχουν επιλέξει για εκείνους/ες. Κι όλα αυτά με φόντο ένα σκηνικό μεταβατικό από την ήδη υπάρχουσα συνθήκη της αποικιοκρατίας προς την ανεξαρτησία που συμπορεύεται με τα διλήμματα και τις όποιες αντιφάσεις ακολουθούν ανάλογες ιστορικές και καθοριστικές περιόδους για τη ζωή πολλών ανθρώπων.
Ο συγγραφέας καταφέρνει και κομμάτι κομμάτι μας προσφέρει μία πλήρη -από όλων των απόψεων- ιστορία όπου ο δράκος μοιάζει σαν την αποκριάτικη ενδυμασία που φοράμε για να κρύψουμε/αποκαλύψουμε όλα όσα καλά κρατάμε φυλαγμένα μέσα μας και βρίσκει την κατάλληλη ευκαιρία/αφορμή να εμφανιστεί και να χορέψει υπό τους ήχους του κάλυψο, το οποίο παρομοιάζεται με τις σκέψεις, ευχές κι όνειρα που κάνουμε. Ή μήπως αυτός ο δράκος είναι η κάλυψη που χρειαζόμαστε για να αισθανόμαστε ασφαλείς μέσα σε όλη αυτήν την υποταγή και η άρνησή του να χορέψει να συνεπάγεται στη διεκδίκηση των όσων επιθυμούμε με μία φυγή προς το άγνωστο ( ; ), μακρυά από τα όσα ναι μεν θα μας πρόσφεραν μία σταθερά στη ζωή μας, αλλά στην πραγματικότητα θα ήταν σαν να βρισκόμασταν ξανά εγκλωβισμένοι/ες σε μία φυλακή σαν άλλο χρυσό κλουβί.
Εν κατακλείδι, έχουμε να κάνουμε με ένα καλογραμμένο και πολυεπίπεδο μυθιστόρημα που όχι μόνο διαβάζεται με μία ανάσα, αλλά μας προσφέρει, απλόχερα, τροφή για σκέψη και διεύρυνση των προσωπικών μας πνευματικών οριζόντων, αφού θα μας βάλει στη διαδικασία να ταράξουμε τα νερά της του νου μας και της όποιας φαινομενικής μακαριότητας...
Αναζητήστε το! Καλή ανάγνωση.
Κυκλοφορεί από τις εκδόσεις Oposito.
https://vivliovamon.blogspot.com/2025...
Σε μία χρονιά που από τη μία μεριά ένιωθα να ''πνίγομαι'' μέσα στη μετριότητα πολλών από τα βιβλία που διάβαζα και από την άλλη σε κάποια που ναι μεν πέρασα όντως καλά διαβάζοντάς τα, αλλά αυτό κρατούσε μόνο όση ώρα διαρκούσε η ανάγνωσή των, λίγα είναι πραγματικά εκείνα τα βιβλία που ήρθα σε επαφή μαζί τους και μπορώ να πω ότι τα ξεχώρισα. Και δεν ξέρω πώς συμβαίνει, μα το ''κλείσιμο'' του έτους -σχεδόν κάθε χρονιά- να μου επιφυλάσσει ένα μέρος εκ των καλύτερων αναγνωστικών εμπειριών. Ένα μυθιστόρημα που το επέλεξα -για να είμαι ειλικρινής- κάπως στην τύχη, αφού ο τίτλος του ήταν αυτός που μου κίνησε το ενδιαφέρον σε αρχικό στάδιο, είναι το ''Ο δράκος δεν χορεύει'' (The Dragon Can't Dance) του συγγραφέα Earl Lovelace, το οποίο κυκλοφορεί από τις εκδόσεις Oposito σε μετάφραση της κυρίας Ισιδώρας Στανιμεράκη.
''Η ιστορία μας μεταφέρει στο Τρινιδάδ της Καραϊβικής και συγκεκριμένα στον Λόφο, μια φτωχογειτονιά στα περίχωρα της πρωτεύουσας, Πορτ οφ Σπέιν. Εκεί, κάτω ακριβώς από τη μύτη του εχθρού, όπου «ο ήλιος δύει στην πείνα και ανατέλλει στις λακκούβες των δρόμων», εκτυλίσσεται η άπραγη καθημερινότητα όσων αρνήθηκαν «να τους αλέσει ο μύλος της αποικιοκρατικής μηχανής και να τους ξεράσει σε κόκκους ζάχαρης, κακάο και ψίχα καρύδας»." (Από το οπισθόφυλλο)
Ο συγγραφέας έχει έναν λόγο λυρικό, ρέοντα, σπιρτόζικο και με έντονη θεατρική πρόζα που μας παρασύρει σε έναν χορό των αισθημάτων και των περιγραφικών εικόνων που παρεισφρέουν στη σκέψη και στην ψυχή μας και μας ''σαρώνουν'' συθέμελα με την ανυπότακτη φύση της αλήθειας τους. Μιλάει απευθείας δίχως να αφήνει υπαινιγμούς ούτε να ωραιοποιεί καταστάσεις ούτε και να υποκύπτει στην επιτηδευμένη χρήση περιττών φιοριτούρων και βερμπαλισμών που πιθανότατα θα αποσπούσαν την προσοχή μας από την ουσία ( ; ) των λεγομένων του. Δεν ενδιαφέρεται να γίνει αρεστός, αλλά να μας πει όλα όσα επιθυμεί ακριβώς όπως είναι. Δεν αφήνει τίποτα στην τύχη. Κάθε κεφάλαιο του κειμένου σαν μία άλλη ''πράξη'' θεατρικού έργου, όπου εκεί δεν πρωταγωνιστούν ηθοποιοί, αλλά άνθρωποι αληθινοί με τα όποια θετικά κι αρνητικά της φύσης τους. Άνθρωποι που προσπαθούν να βρουν την ελευθερία μέσα από την εξέγερση/εναντίωση σε ό,τι τους/τις καταπιέζει, μα ταυτοχρόνως αναζητούν αυτήν την ''ασφάλεια'' που τους/τις παρέχει αυτή η ''υποδούλωση''.
Ο έρωτας του κεντρικού πρωταγωνιστή για τη φλογερή γυναίκα που ακούει στο όνομα ''Σύλβια'' μοιάζει σαν να γίνεται ο οδηγός σε όλη αυτήν την ανάγκη για ριζοσπατικοποίηση απέναντι προς ό,τι θεωρείται δεδομένο κι ακλόνητο. Ναι, δεν είναι τόσο εύκολες στην πράξη οι επαναστάσεις όσο λέγονται με τις πομπώδεις, ή, και μη λέξεις. Η στροφή προς την ένοπλη δράση μοιάζει σαν ένας μονόδρομος παραλληλισμός της επιθυμίας να ξεφύγουν από τα όσα άλλοι/ες έχουν επιλέξει για εκείνους/ες. Κι όλα αυτά με φόντο ένα σκηνικό μεταβατικό από την ήδη υπάρχουσα συνθήκη της αποικιοκρατίας προς την ανεξαρτησία που συμπορεύεται με τα διλήμματα και τις όποιες αντιφάσεις ακολουθούν ανάλογες ιστορικές και καθοριστικές περιόδους για τη ζωή πολλών ανθρώπων.
Ο συγγραφέας καταφέρνει και κομμάτι κομμάτι μας προσφέρει μία πλήρη -από όλων των απόψεων- ιστορία όπου ο δράκος μοιάζει σαν την αποκριάτικη ενδυμασία που φοράμε για να κρύψουμε/αποκαλύψουμε όλα όσα καλά κρατάμε φυλαγμένα μέσα μας και βρίσκει την κατάλληλη ευκαιρία/αφορμή να εμφανιστεί και να χορέψει υπό τους ήχους του κάλυψο, το οποίο παρομοιάζεται με τις σκέψεις, ευχές κι όνειρα που κάνουμε. Ή μήπως αυτός ο δράκος είναι η κάλυψη που χρειαζόμαστε για να αισθανόμαστε ασφαλείς μέσα σε όλη αυτήν την υποταγή και η άρνησή του να χορέψει να συνεπάγεται στη διεκδίκηση των όσων επιθυμούμε με μία φυγή προς το άγνωστο ( ; ), μακρυά από τα όσα ναι μεν θα μας πρόσφεραν μία σταθερά στη ζωή μας, αλλά στην πραγματικότητα θα ήταν σαν να βρισκόμασταν ξανά εγκλωβισμένοι/ες σε μία φυλακή σαν άλλο χρυσό κλουβί.
Εν κατακλείδι, έχουμε να κάνουμε με ένα καλογραμμένο και πολυεπίπεδο μυθιστόρημα που όχι μόνο διαβάζεται με μία ανάσα, αλλά μας προσφέρει, απλόχερα, τροφή για σκέψη και διεύρυνση των προσωπικών μας πνευματικών οριζόντων, αφού θα μας βάλει στη διαδικασία να ταράξουμε τα νερά της του νου μας και της όποιας φαινομενικής μακαριότητας...
Αναζητήστε το! Καλή ανάγνωση.
Κυκλοφορεί από τις εκδόσεις Oposito.
https://vivliovamon.blogspot.com/2025...
May 9, 2020
The Dragon Can't Dance is the exquisite book first recommended to me by a colleague's husband, a professor at Villanova who kindly came to my class at Episcopal Academy and spoke about performativity and cultural expression in Caribbean Carnival. After my first year teaching it, I wondered about it from a liberal, anti-colonial, American viewpoint -- I wondered at the implications of its canonicity, and how the Caribbean canon figures into American letters as purveyed in a high powered independent high school.
Six years later, this is the book that binds me to a particular set of fourteen seventeen-year-olds, distanced from me by a virus, but brought palpably closer in the moments when we examine Lovelace's gorgeous characterizations and invitations to self-examination. Lovelace's descriptions urge us inland, so far beyond the sand-and-surf versions of the West Indies. Lovelace offers the students back to themselves as we think through what it means for someone else to name you, to plaster over your identity with mockery or to deny you the name you want most for yourself. Lovelace invites us to consider what it means to enter into a love of self that liberates you to love others properly. He brings us stickfighting, mas playing, calypso, and the exquisite artistry and strategy of relationships in the Yard. He sends us on the trips that may be forever un-permitted--and then we realize that this is how we were actually meat to travel.
For many years I taught this book with my dense annotations and sticky notes, and did not re-read it along with the students, but invited them to produce their own ports of entry. Ironically, my teaching schedule does not permit the yearly re-reading of every text I teach. As a result, I invited students to choose passages or queries that resonated with them, and in doing so I recalled how I thought about the passage and then invited them to weave their ideas into those of their classmates.
This year, however, I read it all with them. And this reading brought us all into the Yard together. Not an escape, but a finding, a deep and meaningful finding. Two days before my last class with these fourteen children, whose last day of high school will be a disembodied one, I feel like we have traveled together.
For a year or two, in my period of ultra-contemporary leanings, I searched for a replacement for this book; I read Danticat and James, and ultimately had to turn away from those texts as too violent for senior spring, when the kids want to love all places and people, and will even read steadily and write amply to dig deeply into this love. The violence of colonialism is still present in Dragon, but is categorically outsung by the gorgeous humanity and deep interiority of Lovelace's characters.
I will always be grateful for and deeply changed by this particular reading, perhaps my third full run-through of Earl Lovelace's song to Trinidad. I am specifically connected to this small group of Philly-area readers; I have also deepened my relationship with Aldrick, Sylvia, and Philo. When this is all over, I will go there.
I am there already.
Six years later, this is the book that binds me to a particular set of fourteen seventeen-year-olds, distanced from me by a virus, but brought palpably closer in the moments when we examine Lovelace's gorgeous characterizations and invitations to self-examination. Lovelace's descriptions urge us inland, so far beyond the sand-and-surf versions of the West Indies. Lovelace offers the students back to themselves as we think through what it means for someone else to name you, to plaster over your identity with mockery or to deny you the name you want most for yourself. Lovelace invites us to consider what it means to enter into a love of self that liberates you to love others properly. He brings us stickfighting, mas playing, calypso, and the exquisite artistry and strategy of relationships in the Yard. He sends us on the trips that may be forever un-permitted--and then we realize that this is how we were actually meat to travel.
For many years I taught this book with my dense annotations and sticky notes, and did not re-read it along with the students, but invited them to produce their own ports of entry. Ironically, my teaching schedule does not permit the yearly re-reading of every text I teach. As a result, I invited students to choose passages or queries that resonated with them, and in doing so I recalled how I thought about the passage and then invited them to weave their ideas into those of their classmates.
This year, however, I read it all with them. And this reading brought us all into the Yard together. Not an escape, but a finding, a deep and meaningful finding. Two days before my last class with these fourteen children, whose last day of high school will be a disembodied one, I feel like we have traveled together.
For a year or two, in my period of ultra-contemporary leanings, I searched for a replacement for this book; I read Danticat and James, and ultimately had to turn away from those texts as too violent for senior spring, when the kids want to love all places and people, and will even read steadily and write amply to dig deeply into this love. The violence of colonialism is still present in Dragon, but is categorically outsung by the gorgeous humanity and deep interiority of Lovelace's characters.
I will always be grateful for and deeply changed by this particular reading, perhaps my third full run-through of Earl Lovelace's song to Trinidad. I am specifically connected to this small group of Philly-area readers; I have also deepened my relationship with Aldrick, Sylvia, and Philo. When this is all over, I will go there.
I am there already.
June 9, 2022
First published in England in 1979, Earl Lovelace’s The Dragon Can’t Dance offers a defining and luminous portrayal of postolnical life in the Caribbean. The setting of the book is the recently independent Trinidad, but it is representative on any Caribbean island settled by Eurpoean planters, African slaves, and indentured East Indians. On the island, Carnival is about to take place. The inhabitants of the Hill, former slaves who, “survive here, holding their poverty as a possession” are getting ready for the lively celebration. Steel bands are practicing, calypso singers and writers are preparing new songs, and, as usual, Aldrick Prospect is working on his notorious dragon costume. Aldrick, who, like most men, is unemployed. However, he comes alive during carnival. His mission is to do the Dragon dance, a dance that expresses the frustrations of the people and evokes the memories of their warrior past. Most importantly, the dance affirms power that, when provoked, could burn down the whole city. This year, Aldrick is brooding, showing a deep unhappiness with the current state of carnival. Carnival is changing- the steel bands have commercial sponsors, the fighting spirit of the people is becoming a passive acceptance, and Aldrick’s friends are drifting apart to create new lives. Once carnival passes, Aldrick is still brooding. Feeling like “the last symbol of rebellion” is gone, and seeing the girl he likes, Sylvia, take up with a notorious womanizer, he befriends Fisheye. Fisheye, an angry radical, convinces Aldrick to join a futile rebellion against the government. Aldrick is arrested, but does not accept this defeat. He returns to the Hill, where Sylvia’s promise of affection and an epiphany are presented to him. He finds hope and reason enough to give up the Dragon dance, a protest he feels is no longer needed. The beautifully crafted story, rooted in the historical significance of the Caribbean, represents the tale of a young man and his country on the cusp of change. The Dragon Can't Dance is a wonderful work filled with depth, insight, and truth. While the story is grounded in the milieu of Trinidad, its message is universal and timeless.
I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in becoming embedded in a novel that explores the essence of truth and addresses the meaning of humanity. This unforgettable narrative, masterfully crafted through the lyrical writing of Earl Lovelace, makes you feel invested and emotionally attached to the characters and culture of Trinidad. Lovelace makes the book applicable to everyone, not just people with close ties to the Caribbean. He shows us how, even in a community destitute from their previous colonization, the hope to grow and search for the meaning of life is still present. Although heartbreaking and remiss of the stereotypical “happy ending,” this novel still leaves you with a hopeful feeling, one that makes you want to explore personal meanings of a life and a feeling of community.
I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in becoming embedded in a novel that explores the essence of truth and addresses the meaning of humanity. This unforgettable narrative, masterfully crafted through the lyrical writing of Earl Lovelace, makes you feel invested and emotionally attached to the characters and culture of Trinidad. Lovelace makes the book applicable to everyone, not just people with close ties to the Caribbean. He shows us how, even in a community destitute from their previous colonization, the hope to grow and search for the meaning of life is still present. Although heartbreaking and remiss of the stereotypical “happy ending,” this novel still leaves you with a hopeful feeling, one that makes you want to explore personal meanings of a life and a feeling of community.
June 6, 2022
The Dragon Can't Dance was a novel that fully captured my attention on day one. There were a series of multi-faceted characters who all embodied the heart and spirit of Trinidadian Carnival Culture. Not only did I learn so much about Carnival through reading this book, but I also learned about how many characters actually represented harmful societal standards that thrive being exposed through carnival. My favorite part of the novel to close-read was actually the Dragon itself. I concluded that the Dragon actually represents a savior figure, as the main character quits everything he's ever known and loved in order to pursue a life in carnival culture. He almost idolizes the Dragon, and contrary to what the dragon may represent in carnival to outsiders, I believe that it was written as a savior figure in order to replace colonialism's idea that Jesus Christ was the only savior and could redeem the marginalized and colonized groups through interpreted faith. Adlrick embodies the power of his ancestral roots in order to further learn about his own identity through carnival. The other characters in the novel were memorable, also they had very interesting names: Sylvia, Fisheye, Miss Cleo, to name a few. Aldrick's relationship with Sylvia was interesting as his desire to protect her and love her came from, what I concluded, was a familial origin rather than a romantic one, despite the events that take place in the novel. The aspects I really enjoyed in the novel was the use of imagery throughout the entire thing. It was easy to do our class project in which we cultivated labor of love and labor of capital through these carnival characters because of the way in which they were written. The story, like other captivating carnival culture, goes through many passages of time. I think this aspect was written as a personal journey of personhood despite the effects of colonialism which was intriguing to read given that passage of time covers a lot in between effects that society has on people. For example, Aldrick goes to prison in the novel and flees once finding out that Sylvia is going to marry Guy. His identity and almost seemingly self worth resides a lot within other people, despite the novel covering a lot of grounds in self discovery and personhood. I believe that this wasn’t a mistake, rather a bigger message to the fact that a lot of times personhood has to do with those around you, finding roots with like-minded people despite your story and despite theirs. Overall I give the book a solid five stars and definitely would recommend reading it if you want to get an insight to carnival culture as well as become attached to really rad characters that have a lot of personality.
August 28, 2024
I read this for a book club I'm attending next month.
Each page contains about two or three sentences, meaning sentences are long and windy like lazy rivers (which is also a metaphor that quite fits the story itself), but I got very quickly accustomed to this style and it remains consistent throughout. Almost all of the time I understood what was going on, so if it looks unapproachable at first, I suggest persevering. It's like getting used to an accent.
The symbolism of the dragon costume at carnival is incredibly rich, and provided the central source of satisfaction for me as a reader. It builds in and fades back out with a whooping big crescendo mid novel which I thought was beautifully done and excellently paced. I fully bought into the legend and the ancestry and the symbolism and the emotion and the dance of the dragon.
My sympathy for the central characters was strong. I could picture their souls, you know? They felt very raw. Sometimes, almost so ethereal that I wondered about their concreteness, like mannerisms or dialogues or behaviours... The effect is that it kind of feels like you're reading about angels' lives in the sky. It's not really a criticism, in fact I believe this thing is actually really hard to do and writing often jarrs me for the opposite reason (when the writer does not respect its characters' with enough reverence). We explore a lot of inner worlds of the characters which they themselves rarely demonstrate or express. It borders on telling not showing, but manages to grip nonetheless.
Stuff that hasn't aged very well is the way in which Sylvia's youth and innocence gets sexualised, but it's not the end of the world and there's certainly more to her than that. I found Philo's reflections about the trajectory of her love life towards the end of the novel to be quite thoughtful and weirdly universal. Essentially, that her otherworldly beauty was something that most men appropriately revered and kept away from, out of some respect for God's work or something along those lines, leaving an evil kind of consumerist minority of men free to pounce.
Both Aldrick and Piarag's musings on selfhood and loneliness were deeply moving, as were Aldrick, Fisheye and the "bad Johns'" attitudes of warriors in a post slavery post colonial world.
Overall, really beautiful novel. I read it around the same time as attending Notting Hill carnival in London and found myself with a much deeper appreciation and respect for the rituals: the music, the dance and particularly, the masquerade, which I hadn't previously understood.
Each page contains about two or three sentences, meaning sentences are long and windy like lazy rivers (which is also a metaphor that quite fits the story itself), but I got very quickly accustomed to this style and it remains consistent throughout. Almost all of the time I understood what was going on, so if it looks unapproachable at first, I suggest persevering. It's like getting used to an accent.
The symbolism of the dragon costume at carnival is incredibly rich, and provided the central source of satisfaction for me as a reader. It builds in and fades back out with a whooping big crescendo mid novel which I thought was beautifully done and excellently paced. I fully bought into the legend and the ancestry and the symbolism and the emotion and the dance of the dragon.
My sympathy for the central characters was strong. I could picture their souls, you know? They felt very raw. Sometimes, almost so ethereal that I wondered about their concreteness, like mannerisms or dialogues or behaviours... The effect is that it kind of feels like you're reading about angels' lives in the sky. It's not really a criticism, in fact I believe this thing is actually really hard to do and writing often jarrs me for the opposite reason (when the writer does not respect its characters' with enough reverence). We explore a lot of inner worlds of the characters which they themselves rarely demonstrate or express. It borders on telling not showing, but manages to grip nonetheless.
Stuff that hasn't aged very well is the way in which Sylvia's youth and innocence gets sexualised, but it's not the end of the world and there's certainly more to her than that. I found Philo's reflections about the trajectory of her love life towards the end of the novel to be quite thoughtful and weirdly universal. Essentially, that her otherworldly beauty was something that most men appropriately revered and kept away from, out of some respect for God's work or something along those lines, leaving an evil kind of consumerist minority of men free to pounce.
Both Aldrick and Piarag's musings on selfhood and loneliness were deeply moving, as were Aldrick, Fisheye and the "bad Johns'" attitudes of warriors in a post slavery post colonial world.
Overall, really beautiful novel. I read it around the same time as attending Notting Hill carnival in London and found myself with a much deeper appreciation and respect for the rituals: the music, the dance and particularly, the masquerade, which I hadn't previously understood.
January 24, 2020
Earl Lovelace is one of those greats of literature that I had only ever heard of, now I see the hype is well deserved.
This is simply a gorgeous book, it reads like a water colour painting, if that makes any sense. It is the first work of Caribbean literature I have ever read and like any great book from a faraway place it makes me incredibly interested in its history, culture, economics, society and what makes the place (Trinidad in this case) tick.
The writing was beautiful and poetic and transported me into the septic underbelly of a place that from the outside looks like Heaven on earth. This is not the first time I have had to reconcile the Islands' great beauty with its alarming poverty, but this book painted a vivid picture of it for me. It is philosophical and introspective but also fable like with characters seemingly ripped out of a parable from some holy book, and Lovelace must have created them that way on purpose with the metaphors for each chapter he used to expand on each character for us.
I like reading the Creole, it is very similar to Nigerian Pidgin english and it was fun to draw parallels. This book was an awe-inspiring look into the human experience and I believe specifically black humans. While he never fleshes out the idea formally he explored the ways that criminality and recalcitrant laziness could be a form of revolt against past slavery, I had never come across this idea before and when I thought about it, this seems like a good piece of the puzzle of why historically enslaved people, even after their "liberation" find it hard to build systems to escape their plight. Maybe choosing to work for the man is a form of validating your own slavery, or maybe lazy hooligans are just lazy hooligans trying to latch on to a big idea to rationalize joblessness. A fascinating idea. It also made me think about how many cultures and traditions are stripped of their original significance the moment money enters the equation, are there any "pure" festivals or is everything a performance for some audience especially in this age of social media and global travel?
This book is also extremely funny, I found myself laughing till my stomach hurt at several junctions in the book. Funny, beautiful, brilliant, unique and exotic without fetishizing, a perfect storm. Also as an aside I read the "DRUMBEAT" edition of the book and since my secondary school days till date I have never seen a bad book from that series. Bravo Longman.
This is simply a gorgeous book, it reads like a water colour painting, if that makes any sense. It is the first work of Caribbean literature I have ever read and like any great book from a faraway place it makes me incredibly interested in its history, culture, economics, society and what makes the place (Trinidad in this case) tick.
The writing was beautiful and poetic and transported me into the septic underbelly of a place that from the outside looks like Heaven on earth. This is not the first time I have had to reconcile the Islands' great beauty with its alarming poverty, but this book painted a vivid picture of it for me. It is philosophical and introspective but also fable like with characters seemingly ripped out of a parable from some holy book, and Lovelace must have created them that way on purpose with the metaphors for each chapter he used to expand on each character for us.
I like reading the Creole, it is very similar to Nigerian Pidgin english and it was fun to draw parallels. This book was an awe-inspiring look into the human experience and I believe specifically black humans. While he never fleshes out the idea formally he explored the ways that criminality and recalcitrant laziness could be a form of revolt against past slavery, I had never come across this idea before and when I thought about it, this seems like a good piece of the puzzle of why historically enslaved people, even after their "liberation" find it hard to build systems to escape their plight. Maybe choosing to work for the man is a form of validating your own slavery, or maybe lazy hooligans are just lazy hooligans trying to latch on to a big idea to rationalize joblessness. A fascinating idea. It also made me think about how many cultures and traditions are stripped of their original significance the moment money enters the equation, are there any "pure" festivals or is everything a performance for some audience especially in this age of social media and global travel?
This book is also extremely funny, I found myself laughing till my stomach hurt at several junctions in the book. Funny, beautiful, brilliant, unique and exotic without fetishizing, a perfect storm. Also as an aside I read the "DRUMBEAT" edition of the book and since my secondary school days till date I have never seen a bad book from that series. Bravo Longman.
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