Indo-Caribbean Masculinities in Literary Works

Long before the emergence of Caribbean masculinity studies, Caribbean fiction writers gave us our earliest distillations of the complexities of Indo- Caribbean masculinities. Indeed Linden Lewis has noted that the region’s creative writers have led the way in the systematic addressing of issues of masculinity and sexuality, well before this was taken up by the academic community (Lewis 2014, 64). In his article, “Calling All Dragons: The Crumbling of Caribbean Masculinities,” Kenneth Ramchand (2004) identified the common yearning to be noticed in Gurudeva of Seepersad Naipaul’s The Adventures of Gurudeva (first published in 1943) and later Bolo of Earl Lovelace’s The Wine of Astonishment(1982). The “bad-john,” Ramchand argued, encapsulated the common aspiration of Trinidadian men of subordinated masculinities to be feared and noticed, in many ways similar to Sampath’s use of the creolizing concept of reputation.

Now at twenty-two, his whole ambition was to be noticed. It was not enough that he had made his presence felt and feared in the house. It was not enough that his father, his mother, his two elder brothers and their wives stood in awe of him. He wanted to be looked upon with awe by the whole village, he hankered to be popular, but to be popular in a spectacular way. He wanted people to point at him and whisper, “See that fellow going there? He is Gurudeva the bad-john!” (Ramchand 2004, 314)

Other classic examples of these literary explorations are almost all of Sam Selvon’s novels, especially A Brighter Sun (1952) and its sequel Turn Again Tiger (1958). In both novels, the Indo-Trinidadian Tiger navigates his manhood and a masculinity shaped by patriarchal traditions learnt from elders, in particular his father. These navigations were evident in his arranged marriage at the age of 16 and his relationships with urmilla, his wife; the Afro-Trinidadian couple, Joe and Rita; and the women and men of their communities. He is expected to have authority over his wife, mis- trust/use violence/be abusive to her, and suppress his emotional desire to socialize with childhood friends who had not yet entered the adulthood of marriage. Tiger’s manhood is initially one based on distrust of women, as well as their intimidation and psychological abuse, and a hypermasculinity manifested through violence, drinking, and “man-anger” as noted by Janice Cools, one of the few emotions still available to him as a man (Selvon 1958, 14, 65; Cools 2011, 129-133). Writing about A Brighter Sun, Cools observes that:

Approaching Selvon’s text from a masculinity studies perspective reinforces that Selvon was innovative not only in his use of language, his exploration of immigration, of community and of nature, but also in his representation, exploration and commentary on Indo-Caribbean masculinity. Selvon was willing to draw attention to the extent to which normative masculinity can often be limiting, restricting and stifling [for] men and especially for young boys. (Cools 2011, 138)

In Turn Again Tiger, we see a mature Tiger, in many ways freed from some of the hypermasculine imperatives of his youth. In contrast with the other men of the village, he refuses to beat Urmilla and is now free (relatively speaking) to explore other aspects of his masculinity.

While Cools hails Selvon as innovative and ahead of his time in addressing these issues of masculinity years before this was part of a social movement or an area of scholarship (Cools 2011, 138), this was not a singular instance. Writing by Caribbean male authors suggests a powerful concern with manhood and the recognition of its slippery and unstable character. We have already had reference to Seepersad Naipaul’s Gurudeva, but this was also a powerful theme in virtually all the work of Earl Lovelace as reflected in his male protagonists’ yearning to be seen, to be noticed. His trope of the Warrior is an important extension of this, summarized by Lewis as “the hypermasculine, heterosexual, proto-typical Caribbean man of African descent” (Lewis 2014, 68). What would account for this early concern with manhood and masculinity that Indian and African men had in common? Could it be the travails of colonized men, seeking their place in a context controlled by colonial masculinities? Was this about their quest for validation as men or rather “as man,” to put it colloquially, in colonial and post/neocolonial societies?

These novels also address issues of alterity in the relationships between Indo and Afro-Trinidadian working-class men as with Tiger and Joe, Aldrick and Pariag. I have argued elsewhere (Reddock 2014) that, in Trinidad and Tobago, ethnic and gendered collectivities are defined in opposition to each other, with identities and related behaviors constructed in relation to their other. This echoes Sampath’s notion of the ways in which young Indo-Trinidadian males navigate contrasting images of honor and reputation and how their manhood is in the end shaped in opposition to young African men even as they aim toward similar markers of “success.” His point was powerfully brought home more recently in Anand Ramlogan’s response to Denise Belfon’s hit song “Looking for an Indian Man” when he observed:

Before Denise, calypsonians treated Indian men like the advertising industry does: they ignored them or felt they should “humble up” and accept token references and treatment.

This calypso will at least give the Indian man some prominence and exposure on the national Carnival stage. The stereotype that has confined Indian men to being portrayed merely as rural farmers, doubles vendors, shopkeepers, doctors and lawyers but never ever as sex objects will hopefully now change. (Trinidad Guardian 18.1.2004 emphasis added)⁶

What became clear is that despite Indian men’s economic and occupational successes, validation as sexual performers was still paramount.