Mr Loverman

What a beautiful book! You begin hearing Barry’s, 74-year old, Antiguan-British voice telling you about his unhappy marriage, his fresh-as-ever love affair with his childhood love, Morris, and his life in London. And then you realise it isn’t Barry who’s only speaking, he echoes the voices of all the Blacks living in Britain, the homosexual men who have lived their whole life in a closet, and the Antiguan men who have left their home in search of a better life across the world. Poetically, you also get to know about the story of Barry’s lonely wife, Carmela, who followed her husband into an alien land. You feel hurt listening to her sadness, her pain in performing the role of a dutiful daughter, a loyal wife, a responsible mother and a silent citizen of a foreign land. Thus follows the story of a Black family making life work in London through happiness and sadness, love and loss. I was enthralled by Evaristo’s writing. The well-thought out structure of the novel and the style of writing kept me engrossed and marvelling from start to the end. The story may appear a simple one talking about a family living their everyday life. However, as I kept reading I realised how skilfully the author has dealt with the finer nuances of Black experience in the UK, that is often unnoticed, as we are used to reading about the African-American experience mostly. I was reminded of Paul Gilroy’s “There Ain’t No Black in Union Jack” and his critique of racism at the political and cultural level in the UK. Evaristo’s story uncovers cultural politics of race in the rhythms of life that Gilroy has dealt with in his book. This is my first read of Evaristo’s novel after I saw @jencampbell gush about it on her channel. I haven’t read her Booker-Prize winner yet but now I am excited to get my hands on that asap.