General Comments
January 26th, 2012Article by Marie Gregory
January 14th, 2010| Fishing to raise ‘The Village Curtain’ |
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| When Kingstonian Tony Tame began to write “The Village Curtain” he had specific ideas as to what he hoped to achieve. The first aim was “to examine a specific segment of West Indian – and in particular Jamaican – society’s use of culturally unique survival techniques and the private atmosphere which tends to be produced within small Caribbean fishing communities”. The second intention was “that readers will enjoy experiencing the sharp contrast between appearance and reality in what seems so picturesque and idyllic a place as the West Indies where the outcome of the best charitable, official and bureaucratic efforts is always uncertain at best”. “The Village Curtain” is described on the cover as “A Jamaican Collection”. That is, perhaps, somewhat misleading. I expected a collection of short stories. True, the stories are there, full of interesting vignettes and characters who appear and reappear. Yet the framework is more that of a novel. The action needs to be followed chronologically.There is no obvious human hero. The story deals with the sea, survival and the village culture. ![]() Tame has spent a lifetime in the marine industry. He admits that he has never earned a cent that has not come from his dealings with the sea. The first chapter and references throughout point to fishing - reading the weather, even dynamiting the coral reefs – testimony to his intimate knowledge. He is fascinated by the various methods used in fishing, sympathetic to the plight of those who eke out survival in that uncertain environment. UNDERSTANDING Characters in the book are treated with understanding. The human spirit is strong, as illustrated over and over whether through Sonia, the visiting American who falls in love with the Black River area and wants to develop tourism; Mikey, who survives a Florida prison and almost loses his life at sea; or Leo, who dynamites the reef and loses an arm yet is able to continue with an adapted method. |
The hardships bind communities together, watched over by village elder “Mr. James”, a ganja grower, who dispenses white rum liberally, yet sticks to coconut water himself. The homespun wisdom of the man allows him to deal with people at all levels - politicians, charity workers, visitors and police – advising quietly, carrying on his own activities, ever hospitable yet never lifting the village curtain more than a few inches. COMMENTARY Social commentary is scattered throughout. We hear of the young officer from Kingston explaining basic seamanship to the men of the village who had fished the Pedro Banks since they were 10 years old, and the Englishman who comes to the Police Force as deputy commissioner telling the press that he has not come to solve crime. Finally, there is the “Charity Man”, so called by “Mr. James”. Here is the disillusioned dogooder who sees his projects diverted from their original intent. Tame is a master of understatement. We are allowed glimpses of lives in the community. The curtain is never lifted completely. The final vignette is of the dog, “a formal sort of dog”, passing to other owners after the death of Myra, the love of his life. Nameless, loyal, knowing, the dog becomes an alcoholic after being given rum in the local bar. The chapter, which deals with the death and burial of the animal, is touching. As the story closes and “Sonia”, about to return to her homeland, looks at “Mr. James” and sees the veil of his eyes, the moment of truth teaches her “it’s not a veil, it’s a curtain. Curtain, hell. It’s a wall”. Tame says: “I hope that I have been at least partially successful at bringing the smell of the salt spray at daybreak and rage of the hurricane into the general atmosphere of this book as well as the tranquil sound of a quiet, rainy night”. Mission accomplished. Marie Gregory is a freelance writer for Caribbean Today. The book is available through Amazon.com. ® Caribbean Today December, 2009 |














