Now shortlisted for the International Dublin Literary Award 2020
"I had already seen many deaths: I knew the nature of evil. It was white like a duppy , it drifted down out of a carriage one morning and into the heat of a frightened plantation with nothing in its eyes."
Edi Edugyan's Washington Black: A Novel was shortlisted for the 2018 Man Booker.
The narrator starts by plunging into his story midstream before taking a step back:
"But that is no beginning. Allow me to begin again, for the record. I have walked this earth for eighteen years. I am a Freeman now in possession of my own person. I was born in the year 1818 on that sun-scorched estate in Barbados. So I was told. I had also heard it said I was born in a shackled cargo hold during a frenzied crossing of the Atlantic, aboard an illicit Dutch vessel. That would have been the autumn of 1817."
Washington Black, narrated by the eponymous character, who goes by the nickname Wash, opens with an account of his brutal life as a slave on a Barbados plantation, an account which is while harrowing, ultimately relatively well trodden territory in fiction. Looking back he contrast the horrors with the beauty of Barbados:
"There were the fanged metal jaws of a mantrap meant to catch runaways, and the blood-blackened boulder upon which several men had been whipped dead, and there was the solitary redwood wide as a carriage, from which a weathered noose hung. And there were knife marks in the tree’s bark, where men had been pinned through the throat and left to perish, and there were the raw patches where the grass had not grown back since the bodies of the old and infirm had been set there to rot.
And above it all, pristine and untroubled, sat Wilde Hall, with its clear view to the sea— a sea turquoise and glistening with phosphorus, the miles of sand pure and white as salt.
The planation is run by (the rather cartoonishly evil) Erasmus Wilde but the novel takes a more original turn when Wash is taken on as assistant by his brother Christopher ('Titch').
Titch is experimenting with manned flight on hydrogen balloons and something of a caricature of the eccentric but troubled scientist with also a rather different view on how the slaves should be treated.
"Negroes are God’s creatures also, with all due rights and freedoms, whatever their faculties and abilities. Slavery is a moral stain against us. If anything will keep white men from their heaven, it is this."
Although Wash reflects: "Only years later would his phrasing strike me.", a comment which I will return to later in my review.
Wash turns out to be a natural scientist and brilliant artist. Titch even credits him with the illustrations on papers he submits to the Royal Society and working with Titch offers Wash the chance to get away from the life to which his origins had otherwise condemned him. But even as his leaves Barbados to travel to far flung shores, he receives periodic reminders of his real status in the mid 19th Century world:
"It had happened so gradually, but these months with Titch had schooled me to believe I could leave all misery behind, I could cast off all violence, outrun a vicious death. I had even begun thinking I’d been born for a higher purpose, to draw the earth’s bounty, and to invent; I had imagined my existence a true and rightful part of the natural order.
How wrong-headed it had all been. I was a black boy, only I had no future before me, and little grace or mercy behind me. I was nothing, I would die nothing, hunted hastily down and slaughtered."
The novel, from a fictional credibility perspective, packs rather too much into a short life. Wash journeys from Barbados to the far north, over the Atlantic to London, and even to Morocco, pursued by a rather cliched bounty hunter, and scientifically he is at the cutting edge of development in, inter alia, ballooning, polar exploration and aquariums. The strands are pulled together in the figure of Erasmus and Titch's father who they find (rather bizzarely) in an igloo in the Arctic circle:
"And then I glimpsed him, a man rising from the shadows: like a figure from myth, the great patriarch of the Wildes, Fellow of the Royal Society, recipient of the Copley Medal and the Bakerian lectureship, the man whose learning had kindled his son’s mind and never burned down, the man who had drawn us north through icefield and hazard, against what odds, oh, that man, whose very treatise on the icy nature of comets once left the Sorbonne in chaos, whose learning could be expressed in twelve languages, who admired the jokes of the Tartars and the salads of the Inca, who had instructed his three-year-old son to scoop when his hand held a knife and to cut when it held a spoon, for no person ought to assume a tool’s use is determined by the tool, the man of a thousand lifetimes, who had set his heavy English leather boots on the soil of five continents, and collected the mud from each—I saw him, and I kneeled dripping in the low entrance, staring. For he was short, fat, and under his scraggly whiskers was a face very much alive and quite brutally ugly."
And at times there is a bit too much reliance on coincident meetings and discoveries. Indeed as another character observes:
"“You are like an interruption in a novel, Wash. The agent that sets things off course. Like a gunshot. Or a wedding.”
“I do not read novels.”
“Do not let my endorsement dissuade you . They are not all as I describe.”"
(but this novel is)
The novel, even in its title is something of a pastiche of the 19th century adventure novel and also has a strong steampunk flavour. Except there is actually no science-fiction involved but rather the actual scientific developments of the early to mid 1800s. For example, later in the novel Wash researches, designs and builds the world's first aquarium in Regent's Park, working with the (ficticious) marine zoologist HM Goff.
“Imagine a large hall, a gallery, but filled not with benches. There are instead large tanks holding all manner of aquatic life. Enormous tanks. Perhaps there are open-air terrariums with toads and turtles and lizards. And people could come and press their faces right against the glass. Learn the habits of the animals first-hand. It could be permanent, like an indoor park.”
Although Wash is the main inspiration, Goff is 'forced' to take all the credit. Wash ponders:
"My name, I understood, would never be known in the history of the place. It would be Goff, not a slight, disfigured black man, who would forever be celebrated as the father of Ocean House. When I allowed myself to truly think of it, a tightness rose behind my eyes. Goff was not a bad man—he did not like to take credit for my discoveries in principle, but I understood he was getting older, and that the desire to make a late sensation burned deep in him. And I understood too the greater conundrum—for how could I, a Negro eighteen years old, with no formal scientific training, approach the committee on my own, or even be seen as an equal in the enterprise?"
The real historic inventor of the aquarium was Philip Henry Gosse, who in 1853 indeed built it at Regent's Park. In the novel Gosse reappears in aspects of both Titch and Goff and I believe that the author must have taken inspiration for the character of Wash from Samuel Johnson, Gosse's local assistant for the 18 months he spent, on a different project, in Jamaica, in 1845-6. From Gosse's The Birds of Jamaica:
"I may be permitted here to record a tribute of affection to this faithful servant, Samuel Campbell, a negro lad of about eighteen with only the rudiments of education, he soon proved himself a most useful assistant by his faithfulness, his tact in learning, and then his skill in practising the art of preparing natural subjects, his patience in pursuing animals, his powers of observation of facts, and the truthfulness with which he reported them, as well as by the accuracy of his memory with respect to species. Often and often, when a thing has appeared to me new, I have appealed to Sam, who on a moment's examination would reply, 'No, we took this in such a' place, or on such a day,' and I invariably found on my return home that his memory was correct. I never knew him in the slightest degree attempt to embellish a fact, or report more than he had actually seen.
He remained with me all the time I was on the island, and was of great service to me. Many of the subjects of his work were obtained by him, when I was not myself with him, and some which I believe to be unique."
It must be said that Samuel Johnson stayed in Jamaica when Gosse left, that Gosse credited him in his work (albeit one could argue slightly condescedingly) and there is, as far as I know, absolutely no suggestion that Gosse's aquarium had anything to do with Johnson. But then the power of Edugyan's novel is to ask us how we actually know this to be true - scientific papers like history are written by those who had the power.
And indeed as Wash comes to reflect on his relationship with Titch he comes to question Titch's motivation. And when they meet again he plays back to him something Titch had stressed when they worked together, one that has echoes from the words of Gosse above:
"“You told me once, when I was drawing, ‘Be faithful to what you see, and not what you are supposed to see.’”
“Did I say that?” Titch seemed genuinely surprised.
“You did. And yet it always did seem to me that you never lived by it yourself.” He paused. “What do you mean?”
“You did not see me— you did not look at me, and see me. You wanted to, but you didn’t, you failed. You saw, in the end, what every other white saw when he looked at me."
...
“You took me on because I was helpful in your political cause. Because I could aid in your experiments. Beyond that I was of no use to you, and so you abandoned me.” I struggled to get my breath. “I was nothing to you. You never saw me as equal. You were more concerned that slavery should be a moral stain upon white men than by the actual damage it wreaks on black men.”"
Overall: an enjoyable and straightforward read (some harrowing scenes not withstanding) and with some important messages about historical attribution of scientific discoveries and of the motivations of even well-meaning abolitonists which are also of contemporary relevance.
But to me, and in pure literary terms, rather too straightforward to be Booker shortlist material. This is the sort of novel that would (geographical eligibility aside) instead be perfect Costa material. 3 stars as, by strict Man Booker standards, I was little disappointed.
However in a very poor year for the Booker perhaps worth its place on the shortlist.
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC.