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Escape to an Autumn Pavement
A brave and pioneering treatment of sexual identity in Caribbean literature, this novel, first published in 1960, follows the fortunes of Johnnie Sobert, a Jamaican exile who works in London at a club that caters to black American servicemen. In flight from his dominant, possessive mother, he immerses himself in the bohemian Soho scene and adopts a wisecracking persona as a cover for his deep-seated insecurities. Adding to Johnnie’s confusion is the fact that when he is not at work, he navigates a completely different life in Hempstead, where he lives in a bedsitter and carries on an unsatisfying affair with his white landlady, Fiona. These two worlds provide a lively portrait of Britons reacting to the growing presence of blacks and Asians in their neighborhoods, and Johnnie takes lessons from each place. By the time he finally decides to move in with his gay friend, Dick, he is much better equipped with self-awareness—but he has yet to make a decision about where his desires truly lie.
220 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1960
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
October 4, 2016
Escape to an Autumn Pavement pulls me in two directions. Part of me wants to praise the language, prose, and evocative explorations of sexuality and relationships. I've never read a better rendition of a toxic, unsatisfying, heterosexual relationship. Johnnie and Fiona's romance captures the essence of what is so harmful in the so-called healthy, socially approved relationship. The other part of me has to grapple with the over-determined conclusion, on-the-nose explications of sexual variance, and vexed conclusion.
It is unlikely (read: nearly impossible) that Salkey read French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan (the relevant texts, "The Mirror-Stage as Formative of the I as Revealed in Psychoanalytic Experience" and
The Seminar, Book II. The Ego in Freud's Theory and in the Technique of Psychoanalysis, 1954-1955, published in French in 1949 and 1955 respectively and not in English until after the publication of Escape in 1959) but much of Salkey's text benefits from a psychoanalytic reading. Johnnie has a fear of "the body in pieces," behaves without knowledge of his own desire, and has constant interactions with a seemingly benign the other who remains named as such for the duration of the novel. That entry point, for me, significantly increases the value of the text and the productivity of engaging with it.
Still, even without this connection, it is a phenomenal text. Salkey is at his best in the head of Johnnie while he works through his complicated relationship with Fiona. These scenes are absolutely heart-wrenching and written with incomparable clarity and insight. However, the plot is organized a little less satisfyingly. How the novel ends is not the issue, but the climactic exchanges between Johnnie, Fiona, and Dick are oddly on-the-nose. Johnnie's final conversations with Larry are much more satisfying and thought provoking. Making Johnnie's "choice" (of course, we're to understand there is no meaningful choice involved) of hetero or homosexuality the axis on which the novel must turn is subverted by the way in which both options appear deeply unappealing and compromised. What Johnnie wanted, what he could articulate, is for his life to remain as it had been living alongside Dick. His desire seems to be in a realm outside of comprehension for himself or the reader.
There's no question this text is underrated and a delightful read for those who have an appreciation for formal innovation and insightful explorations of romance and relationship structures. The weaving of these points alongside concerns of race, nationality, and fidelity is quite brilliant.
It is unlikely (read: nearly impossible) that Salkey read French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan (the relevant texts, "The Mirror-Stage as Formative of the I as Revealed in Psychoanalytic Experience" and
The Seminar, Book II. The Ego in Freud's Theory and in the Technique of Psychoanalysis, 1954-1955, published in French in 1949 and 1955 respectively and not in English until after the publication of Escape in 1959) but much of Salkey's text benefits from a psychoanalytic reading. Johnnie has a fear of "the body in pieces," behaves without knowledge of his own desire, and has constant interactions with a seemingly benign the other who remains named as such for the duration of the novel. That entry point, for me, significantly increases the value of the text and the productivity of engaging with it.
Still, even without this connection, it is a phenomenal text. Salkey is at his best in the head of Johnnie while he works through his complicated relationship with Fiona. These scenes are absolutely heart-wrenching and written with incomparable clarity and insight. However, the plot is organized a little less satisfyingly. How the novel ends is not the issue, but the climactic exchanges between Johnnie, Fiona, and Dick are oddly on-the-nose. Johnnie's final conversations with Larry are much more satisfying and thought provoking. Making Johnnie's "choice" (of course, we're to understand there is no meaningful choice involved) of hetero or homosexuality the axis on which the novel must turn is subverted by the way in which both options appear deeply unappealing and compromised. What Johnnie wanted, what he could articulate, is for his life to remain as it had been living alongside Dick. His desire seems to be in a realm outside of comprehension for himself or the reader.
There's no question this text is underrated and a delightful read for those who have an appreciation for formal innovation and insightful explorations of romance and relationship structures. The weaving of these points alongside concerns of race, nationality, and fidelity is quite brilliant.
March 12, 2024
may he get over his self loathing
June 25, 2024
Ughhh sooo good. This was a book on my Caribbean lit class reading list that we didn’t read for class but I went back to. In that way the themes and story of the main character was textbook and quite predictable (kinda worn out). However, the gender identity angle, one that we did cover in many books during the class, was explored much more. In this theme though, kinda a spoiler, the ending was a horrible cliffhanger. The writing, mostly dialogue and inner thinking, was amazing, very real feeling, created a super deep understanding of the main character in limited pages, and made the book a page turner for me. All of this led to the ending being most disappointing, but in a more academic sense, with less hunger for a clear plot ending, I see the value in leaving identity an obviously unsolved problem, the book of course still being a Caribbean product and therefore inherently tied to identity in at least a post or colonial national sense. I always like reading/watching, in the case of movies, people being happy, and this was a lot of turmoil. Just so well written though
June 21, 2009
Just finished this book; I don't know that I should be reviewing it so soon after completing it, but I think this novel merits a very quick, very visceral review.
I detested this book when I began it. Until more than 100 pages into it, it struck me as overly pedantic and ridiculous. The narrator was insufferable, and it sounded to me like Salkey should have written an essay on Caribbean identity rather than poorly fictionalizing the narrator's issues. For example, two books with which I'm intimately familiar (and dearly love), The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon and The Emigrants by George Lamming, deal with the issues felt by post-war Caribbean immigrants to London in very sophisticated, inventive ways. Selvon's use of a vignette-like style, as well as shifting narrative & stylistic techniques, made the novel "novel" and refreshing to read. Lamming's shifts between first and third person, as well as his decidedly "experimental" style really brings to the fore the fragmentation & alienation felt by the immigrants whose lives he details.
Salkey, however (at least initially), left these subtleties aside and threw pedantic, over-bearing conversations into the narrative milieu of the novel--the problem was that none of these conversations sounded real. After finishing Escape to an Autumn Pavement, though, I've reconsidered some of these initial reactions. The novel is essentially about a Jamaican immigrant who has to decide between multiple identities and desires: his sexuality; his attitude towards the stereotypes he's often cast into as a Caribbean immigrant (London was not necessarily a welcoming place--"Keep the Water White" was a rallying call for many racist white Britons of the 1950s, 1960s, and beyond...); his everyday existence in London; his desire to maintain an aloof, somewhat pompous intellectual attitude, which puts him at odds with the many white Britons with whom he interacts, as well as his fellow West Indian immigrants. There are quite possibly several more which haven't exactly sprung to mind. Either way, the narrator, Johnnie Sobert, is torn between several binaries, and Salkey fictionalizes/reduces these tensions to the choice Johnnie must make between Fiona and Dick. Without giving away the ending to the novel, I must say that I was quite disappointed but frustratingly unsurprised by the conclusion (or lack thereof...there we go, I had to do it!). However, thinking upon the fact that this novel was published in 1960, I must say that it fits perfectly into the Caribbean emigre (my apologies for the lack of that word's proper accents) canon. The enormous, traumatic changes faced by the immigrants can be summed up by Larry Denton, the barber-cum-hustler-cum-confidante: "You're looking for a sort of mirror which will make you out to be somebody worth while. You want an identity like. You want to feel that you have a nation behind you, a nation that you can call your own, a national feeling is what you looking for. You would like to walk proud like how the German or the Frenchman or the Englishman can walk proud knowing that they have tradition and a long history behind them to give them a real identity. You feel lacking in ail [sic? I'm not quite sure...:] that because you're a colonial boy with only slavery behind you. So you bound to be confused. You bound to want to escape" (Salkey, 203). Like it is noted by Lamming's many essays in The Pleasures of Exile, by Derek Walcott in his essay collection, What the Twilight Says, as well as countless other narratives of Caribbean, and for that matter, Immigrant (worldwide), existence, this need for some sort of anchoring existence can never truly be met. Even conventional narratives of "motherland," "fatherland," Panafricanism, Aztlan, etc., these sorts of identities are constructed and mythical, to put it plainly. They're sometimes necessary for coping with existence, but they're inherently, inevitably constructions.
For these reasons, as well as for the fact that the novel definitely picked up in its last 100 or so pages, (out of 212 in my edition), I've given Escape to an Autumn Pavement 3/5 stars. Initially, I was prepared to give this novel a 1--I really did NOT enjoy it at first. However, my attitude began gradually, but perceptibly, changing. Interestingly, the novel's title (which I was very curious about), is alluded to by Johnnie near the end of the text: "Yet the man had said, and I had believed implicitly, that London's that big cinema of a city where trees are banks and money plus freedom is as easy to come by as leaves on an autumn pavement" (210). And this brings me to the end of the review: London is, indeed, a "big cinema of a city." Salkey's stroke of genius in this novel is his constantly torn, anxious, tense, alienated, overly-analytical narrator. Johnnie is constantly talking to himself, telling himself what to do--he's trying to reconcile his many performances, but all he's really doing is acting himself into a sinkhole of inescapable despair. His "escapes" just take him further from the truth, from himself, and from happiness.
I detested this book when I began it. Until more than 100 pages into it, it struck me as overly pedantic and ridiculous. The narrator was insufferable, and it sounded to me like Salkey should have written an essay on Caribbean identity rather than poorly fictionalizing the narrator's issues. For example, two books with which I'm intimately familiar (and dearly love), The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon and The Emigrants by George Lamming, deal with the issues felt by post-war Caribbean immigrants to London in very sophisticated, inventive ways. Selvon's use of a vignette-like style, as well as shifting narrative & stylistic techniques, made the novel "novel" and refreshing to read. Lamming's shifts between first and third person, as well as his decidedly "experimental" style really brings to the fore the fragmentation & alienation felt by the immigrants whose lives he details.
Salkey, however (at least initially), left these subtleties aside and threw pedantic, over-bearing conversations into the narrative milieu of the novel--the problem was that none of these conversations sounded real. After finishing Escape to an Autumn Pavement, though, I've reconsidered some of these initial reactions. The novel is essentially about a Jamaican immigrant who has to decide between multiple identities and desires: his sexuality; his attitude towards the stereotypes he's often cast into as a Caribbean immigrant (London was not necessarily a welcoming place--"Keep the Water White" was a rallying call for many racist white Britons of the 1950s, 1960s, and beyond...); his everyday existence in London; his desire to maintain an aloof, somewhat pompous intellectual attitude, which puts him at odds with the many white Britons with whom he interacts, as well as his fellow West Indian immigrants. There are quite possibly several more which haven't exactly sprung to mind. Either way, the narrator, Johnnie Sobert, is torn between several binaries, and Salkey fictionalizes/reduces these tensions to the choice Johnnie must make between Fiona and Dick. Without giving away the ending to the novel, I must say that I was quite disappointed but frustratingly unsurprised by the conclusion (or lack thereof...there we go, I had to do it!). However, thinking upon the fact that this novel was published in 1960, I must say that it fits perfectly into the Caribbean emigre (my apologies for the lack of that word's proper accents) canon. The enormous, traumatic changes faced by the immigrants can be summed up by Larry Denton, the barber-cum-hustler-cum-confidante: "You're looking for a sort of mirror which will make you out to be somebody worth while. You want an identity like. You want to feel that you have a nation behind you, a nation that you can call your own, a national feeling is what you looking for. You would like to walk proud like how the German or the Frenchman or the Englishman can walk proud knowing that they have tradition and a long history behind them to give them a real identity. You feel lacking in ail [sic? I'm not quite sure...:] that because you're a colonial boy with only slavery behind you. So you bound to be confused. You bound to want to escape" (Salkey, 203). Like it is noted by Lamming's many essays in The Pleasures of Exile, by Derek Walcott in his essay collection, What the Twilight Says, as well as countless other narratives of Caribbean, and for that matter, Immigrant (worldwide), existence, this need for some sort of anchoring existence can never truly be met. Even conventional narratives of "motherland," "fatherland," Panafricanism, Aztlan, etc., these sorts of identities are constructed and mythical, to put it plainly. They're sometimes necessary for coping with existence, but they're inherently, inevitably constructions.
For these reasons, as well as for the fact that the novel definitely picked up in its last 100 or so pages, (out of 212 in my edition), I've given Escape to an Autumn Pavement 3/5 stars. Initially, I was prepared to give this novel a 1--I really did NOT enjoy it at first. However, my attitude began gradually, but perceptibly, changing. Interestingly, the novel's title (which I was very curious about), is alluded to by Johnnie near the end of the text: "Yet the man had said, and I had believed implicitly, that London's that big cinema of a city where trees are banks and money plus freedom is as easy to come by as leaves on an autumn pavement" (210). And this brings me to the end of the review: London is, indeed, a "big cinema of a city." Salkey's stroke of genius in this novel is his constantly torn, anxious, tense, alienated, overly-analytical narrator. Johnnie is constantly talking to himself, telling himself what to do--he's trying to reconcile his many performances, but all he's really doing is acting himself into a sinkhole of inescapable despair. His "escapes" just take him further from the truth, from himself, and from happiness.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Read
August 10, 2024It took me forever to find a copy of Escape to an Autumn Pavement—well, forever in Internet time. Thank you to an online educational bookshop (Books Direct) that had a copy (does this mean it’s on the syllabus somewhere?).
Born in Panama to Jamaican parents, Andrew Salkey spent his childhood in Jamaica before moving to London, where he attended university. Salkey was part of an emerging cadre of Caribbean writers who had emigrated to Britain. I want to tell you I’d heard of Salkey — who also wrote poetry and children’s books and died in 1995 at the age of 67 — but if not for Backlisted (that podcast again), I would have been ignorant of his work. And that would be a shame because while parts of Autumn have not aged well, what it says about the immigrant experience in Britain is, sadly, as pertinent today as it was then. (I post this during a week of anti-Muslim riots in the UK).
The novel is narrated by Johnnie Sorbert who left a middle-class life in Jamaica for the grit, grime, and racism of London. It’s assumed that Sorbert came to Britain for a better life (unlike Salkey, he’s not there to study at university). His mother — through her letters — certainly thinks that’s the case. But Johnnie’s situation isn’t entirely optimal, residing in a “small Hampstead sitter” where he’s loathed by the landlord (a cranky old woman) and several of the tenants, including a young Indian woman (and student) who hates everything about Johnnie. At night, he works as a waiter in a Soho club catering primarily to West Indian clientele.
To say that Johnnie is an ambivalent young man would be the understatements of understatements. He’s conflicted about his birth country — Jamaica — he’s conflicted about his sexuality — he’s having an affair with Fiona, the girl-friend of one of the tenants who hates him, and he has feelings for Dick, another tenant — and he’s conflicted about what he should make of his life — he’s an intelligent man wasting his twenties collecting tips in Soho. Then there’s the racism that he confronts regularly, mainly in the form of political pamphlets calling for “Negros” to be sent back from whence they came.
It’s maybe not surprising then that Johnnie is cynical and rude. He treats Fiona like garbage, he’s horrible to Biddy, the barmaid at the Soho club, and he leads Dick on, unable to admit his feelings. On the latter, I am sympathetic to Johnnie; this novel is set in 1960, and being gay was a crime (I’m sure being gay and black was worse). His misogyny is harder to excuse, but then his attitude toward women only reflects the attitude of those around him, like Larry, the barber or the men he encounters at the Soho club. And, to be fair to Salkey, he’s not asking us to relate to Johnnie but rather to realise that the young man isn’t equipped to deal with these contrasting emotions.
If I didn’t love Escape to an Autumn Pavement, I did appreciate it. The almost Joyceian quality of Johnnie’s thoughts has a poetry and rhythm that brings many of the novel’s contradictions to the fore. Whereas the dialogue — of which there’s quite a bit — has a biting wit, Johnnie can be pretty savage when he’s in a mood. For all its rawness and character flaws, this novel has moments of extraordinary lyricism. It’s certainly worth hunting for.
Born in Panama to Jamaican parents, Andrew Salkey spent his childhood in Jamaica before moving to London, where he attended university. Salkey was part of an emerging cadre of Caribbean writers who had emigrated to Britain. I want to tell you I’d heard of Salkey — who also wrote poetry and children’s books and died in 1995 at the age of 67 — but if not for Backlisted (that podcast again), I would have been ignorant of his work. And that would be a shame because while parts of Autumn have not aged well, what it says about the immigrant experience in Britain is, sadly, as pertinent today as it was then. (I post this during a week of anti-Muslim riots in the UK).
The novel is narrated by Johnnie Sorbert who left a middle-class life in Jamaica for the grit, grime, and racism of London. It’s assumed that Sorbert came to Britain for a better life (unlike Salkey, he’s not there to study at university). His mother — through her letters — certainly thinks that’s the case. But Johnnie’s situation isn’t entirely optimal, residing in a “small Hampstead sitter” where he’s loathed by the landlord (a cranky old woman) and several of the tenants, including a young Indian woman (and student) who hates everything about Johnnie. At night, he works as a waiter in a Soho club catering primarily to West Indian clientele.
To say that Johnnie is an ambivalent young man would be the understatements of understatements. He’s conflicted about his birth country — Jamaica — he’s conflicted about his sexuality — he’s having an affair with Fiona, the girl-friend of one of the tenants who hates him, and he has feelings for Dick, another tenant — and he’s conflicted about what he should make of his life — he’s an intelligent man wasting his twenties collecting tips in Soho. Then there’s the racism that he confronts regularly, mainly in the form of political pamphlets calling for “Negros” to be sent back from whence they came.
It’s maybe not surprising then that Johnnie is cynical and rude. He treats Fiona like garbage, he’s horrible to Biddy, the barmaid at the Soho club, and he leads Dick on, unable to admit his feelings. On the latter, I am sympathetic to Johnnie; this novel is set in 1960, and being gay was a crime (I’m sure being gay and black was worse). His misogyny is harder to excuse, but then his attitude toward women only reflects the attitude of those around him, like Larry, the barber or the men he encounters at the Soho club. And, to be fair to Salkey, he’s not asking us to relate to Johnnie but rather to realise that the young man isn’t equipped to deal with these contrasting emotions.
If I didn’t love Escape to an Autumn Pavement, I did appreciate it. The almost Joyceian quality of Johnnie’s thoughts has a poetry and rhythm that brings many of the novel’s contradictions to the fore. Whereas the dialogue — of which there’s quite a bit — has a biting wit, Johnnie can be pretty savage when he’s in a mood. For all its rawness and character flaws, this novel has moments of extraordinary lyricism. It’s certainly worth hunting for.
August 31, 2017
Review: Escape To An Autumn Pavement by Andrew Salkey. 08/25/2017
This book is a Caribbean Classic about sexual identity and relationships. I enjoyed the story but it was a challenge because of the way the author’s writing style with the main character who is the narrator mixing his thoughts within the paragraphs of dialogue between characters. As the reader I had to stop and figure out if it was the thoughts of the character or dialogue interaction with someone.
The main character, Johnnie Sobert is a Jamaican refugee who works at a club in London that accommodates to Black American servicemen. He left his hometown to get away from his domineering mother and engages himself in the bohemian Soho community. Johnnie assumes a wise guy persona to hide his ingrained insecurities that has been confusing his thoughts of his unsure sexual identity. Johnnie was staying at Fiona and her husband’s rooming house which caused Johnnie confusing conflict because Fiona kept coming to his room interested in seducing him. Johnnie was angry but Fiona was determined to get her way.
Johnnie decided to move and share a place with his friend Dick even knowing Dick was in love with him. Dick questioned Johnnie about his affair with his landlady. Johnnie never thought of Dick other than a friend. One of Johnnie’s dilemmas is life expectations because that is what his parents implied during his childhood. Over time Dick has
confused Johnnie to the point of not knowing about his sexuality. Dick ended up giving Johnnie an alternative of choosing between him and Fiona. Dick went away for a week to give Johnnie time to get his life back in order and to make a decision but no matter how long Johnnie thought about his expectation he never did make a choice.
The story ended with Johnnie just walking off…. “talking to himself, telling himself what to do” ---he’s trying to reconcile his many performances, but all he’s really doing is falling into a sinkhole of inescapable despair. His escape just takes him further from the truth, from himself, and from happiness.
This book is a Caribbean Classic about sexual identity and relationships. I enjoyed the story but it was a challenge because of the way the author’s writing style with the main character who is the narrator mixing his thoughts within the paragraphs of dialogue between characters. As the reader I had to stop and figure out if it was the thoughts of the character or dialogue interaction with someone.
The main character, Johnnie Sobert is a Jamaican refugee who works at a club in London that accommodates to Black American servicemen. He left his hometown to get away from his domineering mother and engages himself in the bohemian Soho community. Johnnie assumes a wise guy persona to hide his ingrained insecurities that has been confusing his thoughts of his unsure sexual identity. Johnnie was staying at Fiona and her husband’s rooming house which caused Johnnie confusing conflict because Fiona kept coming to his room interested in seducing him. Johnnie was angry but Fiona was determined to get her way.
Johnnie decided to move and share a place with his friend Dick even knowing Dick was in love with him. Dick questioned Johnnie about his affair with his landlady. Johnnie never thought of Dick other than a friend. One of Johnnie’s dilemmas is life expectations because that is what his parents implied during his childhood. Over time Dick has
confused Johnnie to the point of not knowing about his sexuality. Dick ended up giving Johnnie an alternative of choosing between him and Fiona. Dick went away for a week to give Johnnie time to get his life back in order and to make a decision but no matter how long Johnnie thought about his expectation he never did make a choice.
The story ended with Johnnie just walking off…. “talking to himself, telling himself what to do” ---he’s trying to reconcile his many performances, but all he’s really doing is falling into a sinkhole of inescapable despair. His escape just takes him further from the truth, from himself, and from happiness.
October 22, 2021
Initially, I wasn't sure how I felt about this book. Everyone is a terrible person, Johnnie especially! Since the story is told from his perspective, the reader gets to read the awful things he thinks firsthand. However, reading this for a class and discussing the deeper themes and ideas led me to a greater appreciation for the book as a whole.
There is so much to unpack about it! Personifications of heterosexuality or heteronormativity, comparisons of the house to the British empire, internalized homophobia, internalized racism, the closet, and Salkey packs so much into the text that it almost feels as if the characters don't matter as much as what they represent.
Final thoughts: Dick deserves the world, Johnnie being a bartender is the most relatable thing about him, dialogue needs to be labeled please, and Fiona can go choke.
There is so much to unpack about it! Personifications of heterosexuality or heteronormativity, comparisons of the house to the British empire, internalized homophobia, internalized racism, the closet, and Salkey packs so much into the text that it almost feels as if the characters don't matter as much as what they represent.
Final thoughts: Dick deserves the world, Johnnie being a bartender is the most relatable thing about him, dialogue needs to be labeled please, and Fiona can go choke.
July 29, 2025
The novel is well-written but ultimately unfulfilling. The open ending left me wanting more, but not in a positive, thought-provoking way. I was, simply put, disappointed.
That being said, the novel’s depiction of Johnnie’s toxic and unhealthy relationship with Fiona was both unsettling and interesting to read about. I do wish we had seen more of Johnnie’s friendship with Dick, though, if only to flesh out the homosexual attraction between the two.
All in all, this novel was fine. I imagine it might be of more interest to someone other than myself, but I appreciate Andrew Salkey’s craftsmanship, nonetheless.
That being said, the novel’s depiction of Johnnie’s toxic and unhealthy relationship with Fiona was both unsettling and interesting to read about. I do wish we had seen more of Johnnie’s friendship with Dick, though, if only to flesh out the homosexual attraction between the two.
All in all, this novel was fine. I imagine it might be of more interest to someone other than myself, but I appreciate Andrew Salkey’s craftsmanship, nonetheless.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 6, 2022
The language and rhythm was challenging at first and I wasn't enjoying it then I just got into it and the story was worthwhile.
ummmmmmm almost every character is horrible however. Johnnie Sorbet can come off as somewhat misogynistic in his strong responses to one female character who is particularly horrif.
But all the horribleness of heterosexuality and the picking apart of this horribleness I appreciated. There's no tidy gay resolution either. Everything's horrible unfortch.
ummmmmmm almost every character is horrible however. Johnnie Sorbet can come off as somewhat misogynistic in his strong responses to one female character who is particularly horrif.
But all the horribleness of heterosexuality and the picking apart of this horribleness I appreciated. There's no tidy gay resolution either. Everything's horrible unfortch.
May 12, 2024
Must have seemed very groundbreaking at the time (1960) here is the voice of a Jamaican immigrant, learning to adjust to life in London. Sex, money, prejudice, haircuts and befits. Birthday present from Mum, and a good choice in being something I’d probably not have gravitated to myself that I enjoyed.
Was featured on Backlisted, so now I can go and listen again to Andy, John and chosen guest provide a lively analysis and see what I think….
Was featured on Backlisted, so now I can go and listen again to Andy, John and chosen guest provide a lively analysis and see what I think….
September 25, 2023
A well written story following a Jamaican immigrant in the UK and how he deals with the discrimination he faced because of his race, and also as he comes to terms with his sexuality. An interesting read by a clever author, will be looking for more by Andrew Salkey.
September 30, 2020
the language is beautiful and captures escapism is one of the most creative ways
August 23, 2021
dnf just couldn't get along with this
February 13, 2023
Race, class, and sexuality come to a head in this book as readers follow a Jamaican Londoner and his (mis)adventures reckoning with the meaning of home and belonging.
October 20, 2023
beautiful beautiful book
October 3, 2024
Johnnie [keeps/loses] his cool(th)
February 6, 2025
Ögonöppnare
August 4, 2020
"To be, or not to be, that is the question" - William Shakespeare
After having finished this book, I myself feel like Fionna and Dick: confused towards Johnnie. However, aren't we all Johnnie at some point in our lives when it comes to the world around us and their expectations?
I hated chapter one. Salkey's style can be nerve-racking. He uses full sentences. Often, just phrases. Words. In addition, sometimes, I could not fully grasp what he meant because of the way he plays with language. This often happened at the bar, where Johnnie works and where Mr. Salkey offers insight about Americans in the UK, among other things. Chapter one is mainly focused on Johnnie's observations about life in England and in Jamaica and about how welcome West Indians were in their adoptive "motherland" back then.
By chapter two, I was already getting used to his style of writing, and we read more about Fiona and Dick, Biddy and Sandra, Dubois and Larry. Larry is a Jamaican character whose vibrant personality and conversation contrast with that of Johnnie's. Johnnie is a rather angry character, but he is angry with a reason. He over analyzes everything around him, and this provides insight into the way the world and people work; it is the main cause of his displacement and strangeness. Over analyzing does not always mean finding an answer, for it often confuses you even more.
Chapter three finally deals with the reason why I wanted to read this book in the first place: Johnnie is torn between Fionna and Dick; each of them representing a different "life style". Chapter one seemed so distant from chapter three that it was almost like reading a different book. Chapter three is where we really get to experience Johnnie's dual state of mind. However, do we get to understand the root to his inner conflicts and dichotomy? Most of the times, I felt like Dick and Fionna: confused as to what it is that goes on with Johnnie. Larry seems to be the only one who understands what Johnnie's issue might be.
However, as I said above, I myself understand Johnnie about one of his dilemmas: life expectations. Everybody has expectations from Johnnie: his mother and his adoptive motherland, Sandra and Biddy, and especially Fionna and Dick. However, why is he supposed to meet their expectations? What about his own expectations? This, in my opinion, is Johnnie's real dilemma, a dilemma that never offers a solution to make anybody happy, including yourself. Johnnie is not a hero and is not looking forward to being a role model; he just wants to be himself regardless of what you think of him. It's this what makes Johnnie an interesting character and what makes the book worth reading.
I finished this novel torn between wanting to read it again or putting it back in my bookcase for good. I feel this novel deserves a second reading, but I don't know if I have the patience to read chapter one again. This is a book that really makes you think, especially if you're in a state of mind like that of Johnnie's. Especially, if you are in a world where you're supposed to be "black or white" when you are actually "grey" or when you don't even care to be part of the spectrum.
Should I give it three or four stars? As you can see, Johnnie's indecision is contagious, for I cannot even make up my mind towards that. I will give it four because of chapter one being too long without getting to the main point of the novel, although chapter three alone deserves five stars.
This is the second novel I read about a West Indian in England. Both "The Lonely Londoners" and "Escape to an Autumn Pavement" have a fascinating atmosphere of displacement, which sets the mood for you to question the world around you and the meaning of life.
After having finished this book, I myself feel like Fionna and Dick: confused towards Johnnie. However, aren't we all Johnnie at some point in our lives when it comes to the world around us and their expectations?
I hated chapter one. Salkey's style can be nerve-racking. He uses full sentences. Often, just phrases. Words. In addition, sometimes, I could not fully grasp what he meant because of the way he plays with language. This often happened at the bar, where Johnnie works and where Mr. Salkey offers insight about Americans in the UK, among other things. Chapter one is mainly focused on Johnnie's observations about life in England and in Jamaica and about how welcome West Indians were in their adoptive "motherland" back then.
By chapter two, I was already getting used to his style of writing, and we read more about Fiona and Dick, Biddy and Sandra, Dubois and Larry. Larry is a Jamaican character whose vibrant personality and conversation contrast with that of Johnnie's. Johnnie is a rather angry character, but he is angry with a reason. He over analyzes everything around him, and this provides insight into the way the world and people work; it is the main cause of his displacement and strangeness. Over analyzing does not always mean finding an answer, for it often confuses you even more.
Chapter three finally deals with the reason why I wanted to read this book in the first place: Johnnie is torn between Fionna and Dick; each of them representing a different "life style". Chapter one seemed so distant from chapter three that it was almost like reading a different book. Chapter three is where we really get to experience Johnnie's dual state of mind. However, do we get to understand the root to his inner conflicts and dichotomy? Most of the times, I felt like Dick and Fionna: confused as to what it is that goes on with Johnnie. Larry seems to be the only one who understands what Johnnie's issue might be.
However, as I said above, I myself understand Johnnie about one of his dilemmas: life expectations. Everybody has expectations from Johnnie: his mother and his adoptive motherland, Sandra and Biddy, and especially Fionna and Dick. However, why is he supposed to meet their expectations? What about his own expectations? This, in my opinion, is Johnnie's real dilemma, a dilemma that never offers a solution to make anybody happy, including yourself. Johnnie is not a hero and is not looking forward to being a role model; he just wants to be himself regardless of what you think of him. It's this what makes Johnnie an interesting character and what makes the book worth reading.
I finished this novel torn between wanting to read it again or putting it back in my bookcase for good. I feel this novel deserves a second reading, but I don't know if I have the patience to read chapter one again. This is a book that really makes you think, especially if you're in a state of mind like that of Johnnie's. Especially, if you are in a world where you're supposed to be "black or white" when you are actually "grey" or when you don't even care to be part of the spectrum.
Should I give it three or four stars? As you can see, Johnnie's indecision is contagious, for I cannot even make up my mind towards that. I will give it four because of chapter one being too long without getting to the main point of the novel, although chapter three alone deserves five stars.
This is the second novel I read about a West Indian in England. Both "The Lonely Londoners" and "Escape to an Autumn Pavement" have a fascinating atmosphere of displacement, which sets the mood for you to question the world around you and the meaning of life.
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December 18, 2020Required reading - v much enjoyed this :)
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