Read Around the World: Grenada in Creole English

For Grenada, I read Angel by Merle Collins, a novel written largely in Grenadian Creole English. This made for a slow and challenging read—but also a rich and deeply rewarding one.

Confession: I hated this book’s cover. That helicopter? And the harsh color scheme? I braced myself for some sort of military thriller, with soldiers barking orders and diving out of choppers. No offense if that’s your jam! But I am not that reader.

To my great relief, Angel is not that kind of book. It’s a deeply domestic novel that centered on the life of Angel, her mom Doodsie, and their extended family in a rural part of Grenada. Through their eyes, we get an intimate sense of what it was like to grow up on the island in the 1960s and 1970s.

But this is also a novel about revolution. As the workers organize, strike, and rise up against colonial rule, Grenada lurches through political change—overthrowing corrupt leaders, experimenting with socialism, and ultimately enduring the U.S. invasion in 1983. The brilliance of Angel lies in how it roots this sweeping history in the day-to-day experiences of ordinary people. I came away with a much deeper understanding of Grenada’s past—and of what it means to live through poverty, protest, and political upheaval while struggling to live one’s regular life.

I love this moment when a hawk steals a chicken from the family yard and Doodsie, the family matriarch, scolds the remaining chickens:

‘Youall so stupid!’ Doodsie looked around the yard empty of fowls. They were hiding in the bushes, up on the steps, under the house. ‘If you’ll would stay tegedder, the chicken-hawk won come down an do nutting! Stupes!’

Angel by Merle Collins, page 287.

Don’t you just love how the author imparts the wisdom learned from revolution and invasion with such a silly moment? Collin’s sense of humor kept me engaged throughout the entire story. In the end, Angel was the perfect pick for Grenada.

Read Around the World: Greece

For Greece, I read Zigzag through the Bitter-Orange Trees by Ersi Sotiropoulos, translated from the Greek by Peter Green.

Zigzag is LITERARY FICTION—no excuses, no apologies. Just buckle up and prepare to be confused.

The story alternate between four different storylines:

(1) Lia, a young woman dying in the hospital from a mysterious illness;

(2) Sid, her drifter brother and only connection to the outside world;

(3) Sotoris, Lia’s nurse, awkward in every creepy way; and

(4) Nina, a dreamy 12-year-old who writes angsty poetry.

The structure is non-linear, and for me, frustratingly opaque.

When I marked this book as “Currently Reading” on Goodreads, I noticed it’s overall rating is 2.85 stars. I panicked and had an extended conversation with ChatGPT about whether I should pick something else for Greece. After lots of agonizing, I decided to press on—and regretted that decision for the first fifty pages. And the next hundred pages. To be honest, I lost track of how many times I nearly quit.

But then, about ten pages from the end, everything shifted. Zigzag went from a two star trudge to a five star revelation. After I finished the book, I obsessively read criticism and analysis of the book and fell in love with its themes and symbolism.

Isn’t it a bitch when literature does that?

If you enjoy literary fiction, I highly recommend this novel. It’s dark and convoluted, abstract and fragmented, and it will make you THINK. About humanity. About stories. About life and death and loneliness and identity–and then back to story structure and character development. It’s messy but in the best way possible.

If you don’t enjoy literary fiction? This probably isn’t the book for you. No judgment! A year ago, I probably would have despised it, but my Read Around the World quest trained me for the darkly intense psychological puzzle that is ZigZag through the Bitter-Orange Trees and I’m glad I stuck it out.

As for me? I’m so glad I ventured beyond mythology (though I do love me some Hermes and Athena!) and explored contemporary Greek literature. The journey was uncomfortable—but I loved the destination.