In both cases the photo was used to advertise a public lecture by the photo’s subject, writer Thomas Glave—a lecture, I should add, that I’m glad to see taking place, as it presents a rare opportunity for a rational discussion about homosexuality in the Caribbean. The event also features my friend Colin Robinson. But all that’s beside the point, at least for the purposes of this blog post (listen to the podcast I recorded with Thomas and Nicholas Laughlin here). The point is that the image belongs to me, though there was nothing in either publication to indicate that this was the case. In Newsday’s case, the published version of the image even bears a Newsday watermark.

On learning of the Newsday instance, which, coming on the heels of UWI Today, was the straw that broke the camel’s back, I made like a 21st century person and went public about the incident on Twitter and Facebook. Within a few hours I’d received an e-mail from Vaneisa Baksh, the editor of UWI Today, apologising for the error. She said she had come across the photo (uncredited, of course) on a web site advertising a reading by Thomas, and thought it was a promotional image. (I suspect it may be this site, whose owners will be hearing from me very soon). UWI Today is now in possession of an invoice from me, which Vaneisa has promised to shepherd personally through the labyrinth of the UWI finance department, and I’m deeply grateful for her gracious handling of the matter.

I’m still awaiting a response from Newsday, whom I also sent a note and an invoice, though to be fair to them, it was sent only today.

As a number of my Facebook friends have expressed an interest in the details of the matter, I’ve decided to make public the text of the letters I sent to both publications.

The letter to UWI Today:

Dear Vaneisa -

Many thanks for your messages and for understanding my position. I was alerted to UWI Today's use of the photo when the edition was first published, and have been meaning to send you a note (plus invoice!) since then. But then came Newsday's more egregious use of the image, to which UWI Today's initial use became an unfortunate footnote.

The sad reality is that all it takes is a single uncredited use of an image and it's downhill from there, and I do acknowledge that UWI Today was not the original violator. I think the more important point is that photos don't take themselves: any published photo should be attributed either to its owner or to the person who granted permission for its use, unless it happens to be in the public domain. I deliberately release my images under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.0 Generic licence (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/deed.en), which allows anyone to use them for non-commercial purposes as long as I am properly credited. This eliminates the need for people who wish to use my photos for purposes covered by the licence to contact me (though most do so anyway), and is also in keeping with my conviction that rigid copyright regimes stifle creativity and innovation and that sharing creates goodwill.

I acknowledge that I should have contacted you simultaneously with my posting of the status message on Twitter/Facebook, and I do apologise for not having done so. I do think it is useful to be public and transparent in situations such as this and I have already posted a response stating that you have been in touch, and will post another stating that the situation has been amicably resolved.

Many thanks again for your gracious handling of this situation. I hope Newsday follows suit! The invoice is attached.

Best,
Georgia

And to Newsday:

Dear Ms Sheppard and Ms. Lum Wai -

Georgia Popplewell

In this long overdue show, which was recorded way back in June, I interview Lisa Allen-Agostini, co-editor, with Jeanne Mason, of Trinidad Noir, the latest in the Noir series published by Akashic Books.

Lisa Allen-Agostini, writer and co-editor of Trinidad Noir

Apologies to Chris Abani and Yusef Komunyakaa for omitting mention of their fine readings on Friday night. At the time of the recording we were still recovering from Derek Walcott‘s unforgettable premiere reading of “The Mongoose”, a “tribute” to V S Naipaul that begins with the choice lines, “I have been bitten/I must avoid infection/Or else I’ll be dead as Naipaul’s fiction,” and goes either downhill or uphill from there, depending on your point of view. Being good bacchanal-loving Caribbeans, we naturally devote a section of our review to discussion of that episode.

Thomas Glave at Calabash 2008

Following our review is a far more coherent interview with Jamaican writer Thomas Glave, who talks about his latest work, Our Caribbean: A Gathering of Lesbian and Gay Writing from the Antilles. Thomas was also kind enough to send me a copy of the statement with which he prefaced his reading at Calabash on opening night:

"I want to say a special thanks to the Calabash organisers – Colin Channer, Kwame Dawes, and Justine Henzell – for inviting me back to Calabash, this being my second reading at the festival, and for their unceasing generosity to, and support of, writers from around the world. And so, mindful of that generosity and kindness, my conscience will not permit me to begin reading from this book in particular before I say that as a gay man of Jamaican background I am appalled and outraged by the Prime Minister’s having said only three days ago on BBC-TV that homosexuals will not have any place in his Cabinet and, implicitly, by extension, in Jamaica. I guess this means that there will never be any room in Mr Golding’s Cabinet for me and for the many, many other men and women in Jamaica who are homosexual. And so I now feel moved to say directly to Mr Golding that it is exactly this kind of bigotry and narrow-mindedness that Jamaica does not need any more of, and that you, Mr Golding, should be ashamed of yourself for providing such an example of how not to lead Jamaica into the future. And so, Mr Golding, think about how much you are not helping Jamaica the next time you decide to stand up and say that only some Jamaicans – heterosexuals, in this case – have the right to live in their country as full citizens with full human rights, while others – homosexuals – do not. That is not democracy. That is not humane leadership. That is simply the stupidity and cruelty of bigotry."

On CFR #7 (released on March 27, 2005!), I played “Acid”, a track by the Martinquan jazz group Matébis featuring Césaire on “vocals”. Or, more accurately, Césaire intoning, in his impeccably enunciated French, against a musical background, the first few verses of his epic “Notebook of a Return to My Native Land”, beginning with the famously ambiguous opening line “au bout du petit matin” (“at the end of dawn”)–a line widely used in the titles of Césaire documentaries (including the one by Sarah Maldoror) and in press tributes this week.

For those who wish to listen to the podcast, my intro to the track begins around 4:00. At the end of it I offer a short outro then segue into a moment of nostalgia for my Martinique days and some musings on multilingualism. Others may click on the player below to hear “Acid” by itself:

I’ve already highlighted Global Voices’ lovely compilation of tributes to Césaire from bloggers throughout the world, but Antilles has been keeping tabs (one, two, three) on the tributes pouring forth from the world’s presses. France24 posts a report and video to coincide with today’s burial ceremonies in Fort-de-France, Martinique, and Radio France d’Outre Mer (RFO) dusts off an interesting 2001 documentary (in French) showing Césaire in his role as “homme politique” along with interviews with friends, colleagues and ordinary citizens whose lives he touched in various ways.

And now would be as good a time as any to take a look at Euzhan Palcy‘s three-part documentary on Césaire’s life and work, which is available from California Newsreel.

As few people in this place seem to read, for “book” you may substitute “lifestyle”, “sexual orientation”, “style of dancing”, “style of dress”, “social practice” etc, as required.

—-

And speaking of mindful officers of the faith, Prime Minister Patrick Manning has denied that the TT$42.3 billion fiscal package he presented yesterday in parliament is an “election budget”. But in an election year, what party in its right mind would present anything else? Don’t they wish to stay in power? Unless 2007 isn’t really an election year. . . .

Technorati Tags: trinidad, caribbean, politics, religion

Cheryl Ali, retail manager of Nigel R Khan Bookseller, is interviewed by a local television station during the launch of Harry Potter 7

It’s only after he puts on the pair of round fake-Italian sunglasses with the slightly reflective lenses that I realise that the figure in the purple cape I’d seen earlier lurking sheepishly near the self-help section is meant to be Harry. A twentysomething year-old Harry, Indian, with close-cropped hair and a five o’clock shadow. The attendants in witch hats bustling around the store, distributing books at the special Potter table and manning the cash registers are a great deal more spirited, led from in front by the indefatigable retail manager/chief witch Cheryl Ali, whose hat has a special orange and black striped crown which marks her as both head honcho and go-to gal.

The book-buying public in Trinidad is well-behaved, and the considerable crowd gathered at Nigel R Khan Booksellers yesterday evening for the 701pm launch of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is no exception. Besides, this is West Mall, in the heart of the country’s north-western peninsula, the cradle of bourgeois values. As a certain artist renowned for pointing out the blindingly obvious remarked the other day at Alice Yard, there are lots of “red people” here.

I spot the father of a friend, more than likely buying a copy of the book for his grandson, who lives in Tobago with his craft store-owning mom. One of the country’s less popular beauty queens turns up at one point and issues a preemptive, “No interviews!” to the television crews in the vicinity, none of whom acts like it’s any great loss. Here and there eager, sweet-faced kids (and some shameless adults) are posing for photos and rhapsodising about the Potter books for TV and radio. CityTalk 91.1′s Raymond Edwards is anchoring a live broadcast from the store which includes Deathly Hallows excerpts read by a chubby, pleasant-faced woman in a witch hat sitting on an overstuffed love seat.

By a little after 8pm the store, which remains open tonight till midnight, has begun to empty. A few people come in to collect their Potter pre-orders and a handful of regular patrons are perusing the shelves. The witches at the Potter distribution table still have a decent stock of books, mainly the Bloomsbury edition with the classy-looking dark cover which looks like it could be targeted at adult Potter fans, who might be ashamed to be seen reading the edition with the cartoonish-looking cover in public (earlier there were also copies of the garish Scholastic (US) edition on sale, but these all seem to be gone now). Harry is wandering idly among the aisles, looking lost. A couple of witches are reading. The last television crew, a guy from Gayelle sent out tonight on a solo run, interviews Cheryl Ali, who has to hold the microphone herself and talk to the camera as he mumbles questions and shoots at the same time. A friend’s son sidles over to me and says he doesn’t need to read the book now that he’s looked at the last page and satisfied himself that certain things happen. Or don’t.

As I’m leaving the mall I run into a friend. “You were in there?” she asks. “Not buying,” I say, indicating the camera around my neck. She looks slightly embarrassed, and hugs a green Nigel R Khan bag clearly containing a thick book to her chest. “I’ve been sick all day,” she says, making a gesture that suggests the problem is her stomach. “And since I’m going to be up all night. . . I figured. . . .” I concurred, or at least I pretended I did, and wished her a good night.

See more photos from the launch here.

Technorati Tags: harry potter, harry potter and the deathly hallows, books, trinidad, caribbean, reading, bookshop

For episode #46 CFR joins forces with Antilles, the weblog of The Caribbean Review of Books (CRB), to bring you Jamaican poet and novelist Kei Miller in conversation with CRB editor Nicholas Laughlin. You’ll also have a chance to hear Kei read two poems from his upcoming collection, There Is an Anger That Moves, which is available for pre-order from Amazon.com.

Also available at Amazon is New Caribbean Poetry, an anthology edited by Kei. Purchase Kei’s short story collection, Fear of Stones, from Macmillan Caribbean or Amazon.co.uk, and read a review by Edward Baugh at The Caribbean Review of Books.

Listen to the podcast by using the player at the bottom of the post or access it using any of these methods:
Download MP3 | RSS | iTunes

Technorati Tags: kei miller, jamaica, caribbean, literature, poetry

It’s often said that once you acquire a DSLR and a lens that’s more than a couple of inches long, it’s only a matter of time before you start getting requests to photograph weddings. Fortunately for me, most of my friends are either already married, sworn off marriage, or unmarriageable. This, however, doesn’t stop them from organising other kinds of events, which is how I found myself in the role of (unpaid) official photographer at a reading by the Jamaican novelist and poet Kei Miller held last night at the Reader’s Bookshop.

Covering a reading is a far easier task than photographing a wedding, I’m sure. There’s no chance, for instance, of your battery running out just as the couple is about to lock lips at the altar, no obligatory shots of the wedding party in its various permutations (couple-with-parents-and-ex-spouses, couple-with-parents-and-current-spouses, groom-with-mother-that-can’t-let-go, couple-with-branch-of-family-that-still-talks-to-each-other, couple-with-estranged-siblings, etc.), and unless it’s an outdoor reading, it’s unlikely you’ll ever have to venture near the Botanic Gardens, the grounds of the President’s House or Wild Flower Park. Once you’ve made sure you’ve got at least one serviceable photo of the writer you’re pretty much off the hook, free to experiment with weirdly-angled shots of bookshelves, piles of books, slumbering audience members, people’s feet.

I first met Kei in front of Jack Sprat’s bar at the Calabash Literary Festival in Treasure Beach, Jamaica. I challenged him to guess what Nikipedia (whom he had corresponded with, but never met in person) looked like. He declined the challenge, which led me to think he was a wise man. Last night, I learned that he’s also an excellent reader, especially of his poetry, and also a passionate commentator on his own work and craft.

After being introduced by Nikipedia, who, as editor of the event’s co-sponsor, the Caribbean Review of Books, was also the chief organiser of the proceedings, Kei read a series of excerpts from his first novel (to be released in 2008), followed by a handful of selections from his two books of poems, Kingdom of Empty Bellies and the upcoming There is an Anger that Moves. In between, he fielded questions from both interviewer Nikipedia and the audience with thoughtfulness and grace, not to mention a breathtaking lack of pretension.

Listening to Kei

I’ve only read some of the stories in The Fear of Stones (which was shortlisted for the Best First Book award, Caribbean and Canada, in the 2006 Commonwealth Writers’ Prizes) and a few of the poems, but I look forward to reading more of Kei’s work, and I’m certain that he won’t ever ask me to remove any of the photos of him from my Flickr page, as the person who eventually beat him out for the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize did this morning (NOTE: the photo linked to is not the one the author asked me to remove). A perfectly good photo, with perhaps the person’s mouth doing something slightly odd, but hardly disfiguring, taken not in some paparazzi-friendly location but while the individual was on stage accepting his prize. And there I was naïvely thinking that Bernard Henri-Lévy had the market cornered on writerly vanity.

Technorati Tags: kei miller, jamaica, trinidad, caribbean, literature, books

Meanwhile, over at Antilles. . . : Maybe I should have called this the “Nikipedia’s roundups edition” instead. Over at Antilles, the tireless young scribe has posted a roundup of the latest coverage on the Calabash Literary Festival, along with my contribution to his “bedside books” series, prefaced by the following barb: “Georgia Popplewell of Caribbean Free Radio hasn’t written for the CRB in ages, but perhaps her contributing this list–of books she’s taken on her nearly-three-week sojourn in Tobago–is a sign that she’ll soon reappear in our pages.”

We’ll see about that.

In and around Washington, DC

www.marie-elenajohn.com

“I thought the hurricane season started on June 1st,” quipped Richard Philcox, the husband and translator of Guadeloupean writer Maryse Condé, as he read from his wife’s biography against a a backdrop of rain and crashing waves yesterday evening. Condé passed duties over to Philcox after giving the audience a short introduction and a demonstration in a heavy French accent of why she shouldn’t try to read aloud in English. She was correct: Philcox did far greater justice to two elegant excerpts from her biography, which Condé said said she wrote partly in response to the portrayal of the French Caribbean experience in works like Joseph Zobel’s Sugar Cane Alley. Michael Ondaatje followed with readings from his biography, his novel Anil’s Ghost and his latest work, Divisadero; then Caryl Phillips took the stage with an excerpt from Dancing in the Dark and an essay called “Growing Pains”.

Nicholas has more details at Antilles of both this outstanding session and the entertaining open mike that followed, where our Trinidadian friend Muhammad Muwakil easily earned himself the title of crowd favourite.

Muhammad Muwakil brought the house down during the open mike session

Our caretakers Polly and Graham (who told us he spent many hours just sitting and watching Alex Haley — who is said to have written part of Roots in a cottage not far from here — write) are now in the kitchen cooking up yet another fabulous breakfast. I saw what looked like a bowl of fresh ackee last night in the fridge, so I’m hoping that ackee and saltfish — my favourite Jamaican dish — is on the menu. Then we’re off to see Cindy Breakspeare and others perform excerpts from Naipaul’s The Mystic Masseur. And yes, you did read that right.

And oh, the photos are here.

Technorati Tags: calabash literary festival, calabash07, jamaica, caribbean, literature

Here at villa Lyric shooting the breeze with Nicholas and the Lyric posse and Kei Miller, who’s dropped in for a visit. Nicholas has just posted about the post-lunch open mike session at Antilles, and the pool of Calabash photos continues to grow. . . .

Nicholas and I have decided to divide the labour: he writes, I take the photos. Read his account of this morning’s proceedings here, and view the photos here.

The Calabash Literary Festival opened this evening with an overlong and meandering but still quite fascinating performance piece by American actor Roger Guenveur Smith called “Who Killed Bob Marley”, followed by a far less compelling trio of readings by three young authors from Brooklyn-based independent publisher Akashic Books. I’m far too beat to write more at this point, so I’ll point you to Nicholas’s brief but comprehensive report at Antilles and also our growing pool of Calabash photos.

More later.

We’re in Treasure Beach, Jamaica, for the Calabash Literary Festival, which kicks off this evening. Check in here and at Antilles for updates, and at my Flickr page for photos. The only images posted so far, however, are of us lounging at the lovely Lyric villa: the envy-prone may wish to exercise caution.

2. Check out Antilles, the blog of the Caribbean Review of Books, but also a rock-solid lit-blog in its own right. (And don’t forget to subscribe – here’s the feed)

3. Take the Caribbean Review of Books reader survey

Undaunted by the near-disaster that was the “Evening of Appreciation” held in V. S. Naipaul‘s honour on April 18, we ventured back to the University of the West Indies yesterday evening to hear Sir Vidia read from his works.

Left to his own devices, with a proper microphone and nobody asking him annoying questions (and only Lady Naipaul interrupting every so often to refill his water glass, which had to be placed just so on the table), Sir Vidia was fine. He read excerpts from Half A Life, the “His Chosen Calling” chapter of Miguel Street and a passage from Among the Believers about Malaysia (“a country,” according to Sir Vidia, “dedicated to fundamentalism”).

Naipaul’s reading style isn’t particularly good, in the classic sense, but his stilted, slightly quaint delivery is oddly effective, and easy on the ear. Even his attempts at reading the Trinidadian dialect which he rendered so adeptly in his early novels — and which is clearly now so alien to him — worked, after their own manner. It was also remarked by at least one member of my party that Half A Life sounds better read aloud.

When the reading was over, Lady Naipaul leapt to the front of the stage and assumed command of the procedings. “The book signing begins now!” she announced. “Form a queue. And only new books will be signed. That is the form.”

What form was this? we wondered. My heart went out to the throngs clutching their well-thumbed copies of early Naipaul novels and first editions which, on being subjected to the newness test by an advance guard comprising Naipaul’s agent, Gillon Aitken, and Lady Naipaul’s daughter, Maliha, were deemed too old for signing, and turned away.

I hadn’t planned on bringing a book to be signed, which is just as well, as I’d probably have been sent packing with my 1987 edition of Engima of Arrival, the newest Naipaul I actually own.

One student permitted me to photograph her copy of The Loss of El Dorado, which somehow managed to pass muster, unlike her friend’s dog-eared and yellowing Penguin edition of Biswas. A friend I hadn’t seen in a while brought along a first edition of Miguel Street, in a delicate dust jacket with edges serrated by time and wear; but it was rejected in favour of a recently purchased Half A Life. “And I don’t even like this book,” she said, with a sigh, and pushed it back into her handbag.

Technorati Tags: v. s. naipaul, trinidad, literature, books, reading

Some years ago, Vonnegut, who was noted for his clear, simple, prose, was one of the spokesmen for a plain English campaign; the ads used to run in places like the New Yorker. I’ll never forget the cartoon that was part of the Vonnegut ad. Two figures, one a speaker of the “jargonese” the campaign was meant to combat, the other a user of plain English. The jargonese-user was saying something like, “The biota exhibted an 100% mortality response,” which the plain English user translated as, “All the fish died.” As someone who fell — very briefly — under the sway of Post-structuralism and witnessed with great dismay the havoc it wrought upon academic writing; and as someone who has has worked on publications for organisations which believe that language is best used as a big stick, an obscurer of meaning, this summed up much of what I feel about writing. It may not even have been Vonnegut’s own idea, but it sounds like something he might have conjured up.

Vonnegut didn’t have an easy life, but he worked hard, continued writing articles when he had no novels left in him, and it doesn’t sound like he complained much. He sounds like someone who truly deserves to rest in peace.

Technorati Tags: literature, books, kurt vonnegut, reading, writing