A brilliant Jamaican-American writer takes on the themes of colonialism, race, myth, and political awakening.
The structure of No Telephone to Heaven combines naturalism and lyricism, and traverses space and time, dream and reality, myth and history, reflecting the fragmentation of the protagonist, who nonetheless seeks wholeness and connection. In this deply poetic novel there exist several levels: the world Clare encounters, and a world of which she only gradually becomes aware - a world of extreme poverty, the real Jamaica, not the Jamaica of the middle class, not the Jamaica of the tourist. And Jamaica - almost a character in the book - is described in terms of extraordinary beauty, coexisting with deep human tragedy.
The violence that rises out of extreme oppression, the divided loyalties of a colonized person, sexual dividedness, and the dividedness of a person neither white nor black - all of these are truths that Clare must face. Overarching all the themes in this exceptionally fine novel is the need to become whole, and the decisions and the courage demanded to achieve that wholeness.
Michelle Cliff (born 2 November 1946) is a Jamaican-American author whose notable works include No Telephone to Heaven, Abeng and Free Enterprise.
Cliff also has written short stories, prose poems and works of literary criticism. Her works explore the various, complex identity problems that stem from post-colonialism, as well as the difficulty of establishing an authentic, individual identity despite race and gender constructs. Cliff is a lesbian who grew up in Jamaica.
Cliff was born in Kingston, Jamaica, in 1946 and moved with her family to New York City three years later. She was educated at Wagner College and the Warburg Institute at the University of London. She has held academic positions at several colleges including Trinity College and Emory University.
Cliff was a contributor to the Black feminist anthology Home Girls.
As of 1999, Cliff was living in Santa Cruz, California, with her partner, poet Adrienne Rich. The two were partners from 1976; Rich died in 2012.
The second book to Michelle Cliff's Abeng. I have to say at the beginning, I was really sucked into the story. A very memorable and tragic opening scene. I believed the book would be more readable than Abeng and the ideas were flowing really smoothly... Until the second half of the book and especially towards the end. I'm disappointed how vague the ending was. Some parts of the second half were good, but the writing strayed a bit.
We follow the story of Clare Savage, after getting to know her as a child in Abeng. We find out how she learns about colonialism, racism and her family's history. Now, Clare and her family moved to the United States right before the violence in Jamaica escalated. Her family breaks apart. Mother and sister move back to Jamaica. After the death of her mother, she becomes estranged from her father. She moves to England to look for the motherland, but finds herself displaced. Her sister becomes a drug addict. Her lover is damaged from the Vietnam War. Her best friend Harry/Harriet helps Clare piece together the different parts of her life.
This novel definitely depicted the rise of violence in Jamaica, but we never meet Clare's sister. Similarly, Jamaica's independence was completely omitted. I'm left feeling confused why the author decided to steer the story that way. I'm afraid I'm not going to remember Clare Savage's story.
One of those authors you've never heard of but who utterly captures the essence of their homeland. In this case, the turbulent politics and revolutions of Jamaica, as well as the equally turbulent and dangerous line of being half white half black in 50's America.
The fears of post colonial Jamaica are captured lyrically, bravely, and in suspenseful prose by Cliff, who weaves past and present together seamlessly. If you like Zadie Smith, you might want to try this. The flashbacks to the 50s are intriguing and the present story spellbinding as you see race and class tackled along with the author's intense ties to Jamaican history. It's a window into what privilege entails, and how some rather inspirational figures cut through the surface of poverty and injustice to become role models.
Also, it has a drag queen who wears a Wonder Woman cape. I won't spoil anything else, but I'm not ruining the plot by telling you that.
An unusual novel. A lot goes on in sequences with different settings (Jamaica, New York, London, a succession of European cities back to Jamaica). The main character Clare, whose parents encourage her to take up British ideals espoused by her father instead of Jamaican ones of her mother's heritage, goes through vastly different transformations nevertheless from a brilliant schoolgirl and university intellectual to a terrorist. The finale might find a hint of explanation from the book's acknowledgments to a 1984 New York Times article by Joseph B. Treaster, "U.S. Film Makers Lured by Jamaican Incentives," about the scenic island becoming an economical, varied landscape for foreign filmmakers.
The well-educated Michelle Cliff, who died in June 2016, combines themes of rural West Indian and urban British cultures, representative of Jamaica's heritage of mixture. In this post-colonial book, the English class system based on shades of color and the homophobia continue long after the country's independence from the mother country and the queen. There seem no favorable prospects for Jamaica to regain itself. Trampled by tourism, by outsiders' unregulated exploitation of natural resources, and by foreign use of Jamaica's low paid labor for services, and interference into Jamaican government, the country cannot seem to make good.
Wow this is the best book I’ve ever read. Discussing it with queer people in an academic context made it extra special. Soooo grateful this work of art exists. Every chapter moved me.
sometimes there are books that i read and feel like "oh yeah, that's good i guess" and then i discuss with other people and my appreciation of the book just grows. "no telephone to heaven" is a beautiful book, written in such lyrical prose. i really, really enjoyed reading and discussing this book, and i hope to revisit it in my studies. would love to write an essay or make a video review/analysis of this work. shoutout my afro-caribbean lit class
reading this was like pulling teeth. it took me so long to read even 10 pages at a time because I would get bored and the writing style was just so hard to get pulled into. I really only enjoyed the section about Kitty. there were too many time jumps without explanation and the ending was so weird and confusing that I had to read multiple summaries to get the gist of what I had just read. I only finished this because I had to read it for a class and honestly I think just reading the wikipedia page would’ve been a better option since the gist of the plot is the most important parts of the story but gets muddied by the writing style and structure.
rant incoming!! if you liked this book, don't read my review. i am being forced to read this book for a class and this is the only place i can vent my frustration. i am on page 48 and i cannot take it any longer, i hate it here.
god i hate this book so fucking much. generally i hate all books that involve killing, SA-ing, and/or t*rturing women to be "gritty" or "real" or "literary" or "bleak." there is just no good reason to write scenes of such depraved and hateful violence towards women, and the specific fervor of hatred against Black women in particular is inexcusable. for some reason ALL of my literature classes have insisted that we read horrid filthy books like this. WHY?? you wanna know what, i AM a little wimp when it comes to reading about gore. i don't like violence and bloodshed and rape. because ENOUGH OF IT HAPPENS IN THE REAL WORLD!!! FICTION DOESN'T NEED TO BE A FETISHIZATION OF MURDER, RACISM, MISOGYNY, AND RAPE!!! it is perfectly valid to want to write about real-world issues like colonialism, racism, misogyny, rape, et cetera, but the extent to which it is described is horrific. this is a disgusting little book. i am a book lover and i believe in free speech, but this book was not worth the paper it was printed on. i'm so glad i found it for free at the library, i only hate that the stain of it will be attached to my library account forever. and you want to know what? i have to type this out but it's a pretty hot take and y'all aren't ready for it yet so i will come back and edit it in once i think the world is ready to hear it. i ***** *** **** **** *** **** ***** ***** ********* *****, ** ***** **** ** ****. ***'* **** ****. **** ***** ** *****. ***** ** **** *** ***** ** ** * "****-******* ***** *****" like **** ***** *******.
okay that made me feel a bit better. i don't want to finish the dumb book, i already looked at all the online summaries i could find so maybe that's enough to bullshit my way through the next class period.
Cliff's first novel, this is much better than the later prequel, Abeng, which I reviewed last week. It's a much more adult, more sophisticated and better written novel. The main character is again Clare Savage. The book begins and ends with her as part of a small armed group -- the politics is not particularly good, or even clear, and seems to be mostly a product of despair on the part of people who feel oppressed but have no understanding of political theory or effective action. I was reminded at the end of Doris Lessing's The Good Terrorist, although Cliff is more sympathetic and the characters are not the spoiled children of that novel. The majority of the book however, told in flashbacks which are not strictly chronological, is about Clare's psychological development, the experiences she goes through in Jamaica, New York, and London with racism and the guilt she feels as a lighter-skinned Black who, while not actually trying to "pass", is generally considered "white", and her ambivalent feelings toward her lighter father and darker mother. These themes arise much more naturally out of the situations than in the prequel, and have a less artificial feel of illustrating a point. There are also some feminist themes and a major "trans" character. One episode concerns a disturbed Black Vietnam veteran named Bobby whom she falls in love with and who just disappears one afternoon. Meee and Bobbeee McGeeeeeeeeee sorry. After reading this, I understand the decisions Cliff made in writing the prequel even less -- the strange ending of that book with Miss Beatrice and her sister is never alluded to, and the childhood friend who plays such a key role in the later book is not mentioned even in the listing of people she remembers from her time at Miss Mattie's. While Cliff is not my favorite of the Jamaican writers I have been reading for the Goodreads group, the novel is worth reading and does give another perspective on the situation there.
No Telephone To Heaven is a grim, bloody account of a subjugated Jamaica and the inescapable psyche of the colonized. The loose structure of the novel follows Clare Savage, a light-skinned Jamaican girl split by contradiction; a Jamaican heiress descended from the plantation-class, she moves with her family to Brooklyn and, under the American eye, becomes black. Her homesick mother moves back to Jamaica and leaves Clare with conflicting loyalties as she continues her education in America, and then in England, where she studies white history and white art. The arc of her life is inevitable in its return to the island, where Clare will have to decide her heritage and role in the fate of Jamaica.
In the spaces between Clare’s life story Cliff gives us visions of Jamaica which straddle the magical and gritty. Sanguine machetes, howling dogs, and carefree tourists coexist in this hellish paradise. Cliff has an eye for vivid images, opting often for fragments which paint visions like poetry. Brutal in its telling, No Telephone to Heaven offers a post-colonial insight into a country whose history has been erased by tourism pamphlets and white leisure travel. Reading this book was emotionally draining, but I was sustained by Michelle Cliff’s powerful prose and the promise of revelation.
Gut wrenching and guilt inflicting. Truly captures the evil that riddled Jamaica post-empire. How following centuries under a rule of corruption and capitalism, the locals knew only of a life of such cruelty; expected to rebuild themselves amidst such shambles. Cliff writes poignantly and paints such a tangible image. Not an easy read, but certainly one that provides great basis for exploration and analysis.
There are such rich layers in this book in terms of how it discusses race, class, privilege, colonialism, colorism, and familial as well as romantic relationships. The references to historical events caused me to seek out their referents (as always) and helped me learn more about Jamaica’s recent history.
Since I read this for class over the course of several weeks, I was able to really dive deeply into form as well as content. The story is told in a very non-linear fashion, so even had I not read it through class I would probably have taken awhile to read it anyway. I didn’t necessarily expect to get attached to Claire or Kitty or Harriet, but I certainly did.
One of the best books I read in 2008. It's about a handful of people in Jamacia, esp. a young mulatto named Claire. The book swirls around their ups and downs, and the ramifications of class, sex and racial pressure, which eventually leads to a revolution (and I'm not spoiling anything, the book is non-linear and starts with the revolution).
Less enticing than Anna Karenina...the dialect can be tough (why a glossary in the back, and not footnotes?) Maybe I'll get to it before it's due back at the library.
I really loved this book. The writing was wonderful and there was a lot of history I didn't know about before reading this. I also thought the character's and their stories were compelling. But I was really troubled/confused by the ending and what it was trying to say. That perhaps if these characters would have had a fully heroic end that their resistance would have been more of a performance for the reader to feel heroic about rather than a realistic, truthful story? The book does make a lot of commentary about the ways people have a connection and a desire for a history that is rooted in colonialism and violence so perhaps this is what I am to make of it. But I'm just not sure.
Another thing I took an issue with. I understand the need for Clare to not live split and the need to be fully committed to resistance. But I wasn't really sure if I was comfortable with the comment this book made about gender (and committing to a gender identity in such a binary way.) Perhaps Harriet felt as though she were no longer Harry and wanted to fully embrace her identity as Harriet. Perhaps this also goes along with the books statement about women fighting for and healing their country, and Harriet's feminine identity was more in line with the books politics. But I'm just not sure if one really has to pick a gender or they are a "split" person, somehow less whole of a person. I understand this is one characters experience and that maybe this character WANTED to live as one gender. But when picking a gender is brought into the same light as being fully committed to an armed resistance against colonialism, it just feels off. Not picking a gender is being half committed to what? It's not an armed resistance, it's gender. Plenty of people live full, "not split" lives as androgynous or non binary people.
Besides this one bit, I really did love this book and I'm glad I read it. I didn't know anything about the colonialism of Jamaica, or the neocolonialism that still occurs there, and this book was excellent.
This is supposed to be a fine example of Jamaican literature, and the author was a well-known Jamaican poet. However, I had a hard time appreciating the book. For one thing, it's very hard to understand. There is the patois. But that wasn't the problem for me. The plot jumps all over the place, and I couldn't even figure out what happened in the final scene -- very frustrating.
We follow an orphan raised in Dungle, as well as a light-skinned young woman whose family moves to the US. Then we stay with this same woman as she moves to the UK and then back to Jamaica again, where she takes over her grandmother's property, which has gone back to bush. Then, somehow, she seems to be mixed up with a group of communists. (???) And she lets them stage their operations from her abandoned property. But I'm not sure how or why this happened; it wasn't explained. To make things worse, the timeline between scenes was all jumbled up.
The novel focuses a lot on race and shade-consciousness. It gives a great portrayal of the tensions faced by ordinary Jamaicans during the 1980's, and shares a lot of local color (food, smells, sayings, etc.).
What I will remember most from this book is the gut-wrenching agony of several narrators who feel they have no place in the world, as well as the gender-based tensions expressed by the female narrator and one of her friends. This makes sense, because the author was very open about her lesbian relationship with the poet Adrienne Rich, at a time when few had come out of the closet.
No Telephone to Heaven is not a novel I was familiar with before finding it at a local thrift store (although maybe I should have known Michelle Cliff was connected to Adrienne Rich); a blurb from Toni Morrison and an interesting-sounding summary were enough to lure me in. And the novel that followed was exceptionally difficult to untangle, with language and narrative unwinding and rewinding, a glossary in the back and thematic epigraphs throughout. I'll say, it's hard to gather my thoughts on this book. But - what I could understand - I loved.
Cliff is brilliant. Her observations are wry and dazzling. Her characters are complex and - reading from the 2020s - presciently modern. I think I can only describe the novel as a sort of kaleidoscope of beautiful fragments. Post-colonial shards here, feminist there.
Voice and speech are essential to the novel (See the emphasis in the title - "Telephone"). Like Zora Neale Hurston, Cliff captures the rhythm of individuals through their speech, transcribing a language almost as if anthropology. Cliff's novel, then, is more then just an introspective glance at her Caribbean heritage, her experiences abroad, and her coming-of-sexuality, but a national glance at Jamaica of the sound of its people.
This was an interesting book, one I probably never would have picked up on my own if it hadn't been for my sister — she studied abroad in Jamaica while in college, and No Telephone to Heaven was required reading for one of her classes. I went into the book pretty blind — being subsequently shocked by the namesake chapter — and throughout learned about the many sides of Jamaica that I truly knew nothing about.
While the book mostly revolves around the life of Clare Savage, there are also chapters throughout that aren't directly about her but loosely relate to her. The major theme of the novel revolves around identity and migration — from Jamaica to America to England — and the heavy impact of English colonialism on Jamaica and its people. A lot of ground is covered in such a short book — I absolutely see how and why it would be studied in classes relating to the history of the country.
Superb. The text uses powerful, disturbing, surrealistic imagery to wrestle with identity formation, historical memory, and social malaise in a Jamaica after the shattering of colonialism and slavery. The language that veers between pidgin and formal English, the elegiac and the profane, is instrumental in illuminating the tensions and struggles between these various strands of identity and memory warring within Jamaica and within the body of Clare Savage herself. Some of the imagery and symbolism is unforgettable: the sharp edge of the machete used to cut cane and more than cane, the cane fields aflame as you burn Babylon, the Maroons and how they are remembered, NO TELEPHONE TO HEAVEN, etc. The text asks who is Jamaica for, how is she remembered, and how can one severed from that Legacy and Lineage return to it. There are no answers, just struggle.
The narrative was too chopped up for my liking, leaving one character in the dust for another too soon for me to form a connection to any. Clare gets the most airtime, and even then, it’s not enough, for the margin of distance already instituted in the formal aspects: third-person narration, time jumps, structural fragmentation. Sparsity of psychology. The constantly broken sentences impeded my understanding in too many places and made it hard to become absorbed into the story - I never got lost while reading. Moreover, the violence that recurs seemed needlessly brutal, suspiciously self-indulgent on Cliff’s part.
This book is the work of a very skilled writer, and I liked it for being a Jamaican book that intends a Jamaican audience, almost defensively, as though preempting judgment by foreign eyes. But NTTH has the typical litfic traits of being quite “inaccessible” and “unlikable”…and I’m not sure there’s enough to redeem them here.
This book is hard to rate, because I can appreciate its literary merit even though I did not find it a "fun" read. The novel deals with themes of racial and cultural belonging, and the postcolonial condition in Jamaica. The blurb on the back cover says that the book is about Claire, but that is not so until about page 87, so in the beginning of the book it's difficult to see where it is going. I liked many of the different storylines, and there were paragraphs and sentences that really sing stylistically. This may just be a book to read in a classroom or with a book group, not on a plane like I did.
I think the moments that stuck out most to me in this book were the moments that the main characters in order to be treated with respect had to conceal they were black. This is something I will not understand, identifying between two races. Identifying half white that comes with extreme privilege and half Black that subjects you to extreme oppression. The blatant racism in this book reminds me that this may not be how racism typically looks today, but these are the mentalities that many still hold. I think this is an important read to understand the struggles of finding one's identity between both races.
This book was an interesting description of Jamaican colonization and oppression. It is largely poetic and symbolic which isn’t really my thing but Cliff masterfully creates a narrative that intertwines characters and plot lines together throughout the book.
This book helped to broaden my knowledge of colonization and conditions of poverty. Although I’m not a fan of the style, I can appreciate the beauty of her narrative style.