Blue Basin Island is the final resting spot of formerly enslaved Africans whose souls have flown from Earth—not to heaven or purgatory but toward freedom and a new life. Lucille, the island’s seamstress, takes two forms. She lives among the inhabitants in human form and, along with the evil-repelling blue of the houses, her divine form protects people from the violence of the their former lives. Yet, even there, outside of time, the souls are not totally insulated from the world in which they were enslaved. Each time a Black person anywhere is harmed, a piece of Blue Basin an earthquake leaves hundreds of thousands dead, and bricks crumble on the island; when police kill a Black child asleep in her bed, the blue paint on homes throughout the island drips and then runs from the walls. Lucille must hold the island together, but she struggles to juggle the responsibility of ensuring everyone’s safety while also seeking and losing her own private love. Grounding the story in African folklore and dipping into the rich literary tradition around African people with the power of flight, Zoë Gadegbeku visualizes the destination at the end of the flight and the new life that awaits them.
Beautiful language. Poetic even. The writing is dense and may not be for everybody but the descriptive detail and imagery is exceptional. I wrestled with the fact that on Blue Basin Island there was still “pain.” My assumption had been that there would be more relief for black folk outside of time than those inside of time. So many powerful themes ans ideas in this book. Will be best to unpack in a book club!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
What a stunning book, with a truly original vision and form. The imaginative world-building and multi-dimensional characters are layered and complex. I found it took some time to get my bearings, longer than is common with novels, but with patience and occasional glances at the helpful character and glossary references, the reading experience became incredibly moving. In the process, I realized that pushing beyond norms and comfort levels is inherent to this ambitious project.
Zoë's writing talent is undeniable. Throughout the narration of the characters' stories, the density of deep observations about life, culture and nature manifested in literary flourish is impressively high. I found myself exclaiming "wow!" quite often and like the best books, I found myself doing more of my own observing and writing while I read it. The use of language is also about as masterful as it gets with with dialog interspersed with English, Ewe and Haitian Creole with incredible fluidity and critically, unapologetically, without translation.
It seems the book is not getting the attention it deserves, perhaps limited marketing from the academic publisher. Please seek it out anyway, you wont regret. This book challenges the reader in various ways, but for patient readers open to the pluriverse of storytelling, you will be rewarded with powerful, poignant narratives presented with the most commanding creative care.