By Caryl Phillips
An arresting . . . bracing and affecting volume” (Booklist) that brims with interest and cosmopolitanism” (Publishers Weekly), Color Me English was once hailed within the Guardian as the best books of 2011 via Blake Morrison. This compilation of essays from award-winning writer Caryl Phillps is a polymorphous satisfaction that often keeps at its middle the thought of identification: the way it is developed, the way it is thrust upon us, how we will be able to switch it” (The Independent).
A daring mirrored image on race and tradition throughout nationwide limitations, Color Me English contains touching tales from Phillips’s early life in England; his years residing and instructing within the usa in the course of the turbulent occasions of Sept. 11; and his travels throughout Europe and Africa, the place he engages with mythical writers James Baldwin, Richard Wright, Chinua Achebe, and Ha Jin. Featured on radio courses together with The Leonard Lopate Show and The Diane Rehm Show and coated in Salon, the Huffington Post, and Essence, Color Me English is a beautiful assortment from Phillips, who writes splendidly crafted, deeply meditative treatises . . . [that are] regularly attention-grabbing and informative” (Quarterly Black Review).
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Extra info for Color Me English: Reflections on Migration and Belonging
I glanced at my watch. m. The foray into an advanced time zone was working in my favor, but the language barrier was not. I was caught in socialization purgatory. If I left Snob, the situation elsewhere would be just as dead, lonely, reminiscent of game night at Jean-Paul Sartre’s house, etc. But if I waited for things to heat up, I’d be equally overwhelmed. Lisbon is designed for bar crawls and multilevel discos that close after sunrise, for nights that make your top-ten lists: Top Ten Drunkest.
I wondered : did I speak English at the same speed they spoke Portuguese ? It seemed unlikely. You know, I wanted to tell them, Portugal and Brazil may be the only hubs of your tongue in this world, but this is a language that’s out there. I mean, it’s around. The chances of there being more Portuguese to speak tomorrow are very good. No need to get it all out now. ” I flipped my book open to the blank papers at the end. I sketched a quick map of the earth, using the kind of sloppy squiggling that makes Florida the size of Italy.
At night, the café traded cappuccino for hard liquor. The back porch overlooked the bridge, the river, the castles and cathedrals—the whole city. I took out a paperback book, lifted my glass of wine from the bar, and settled on the balcony, where it was getting cold enough to see my own breath. And then they sent in the clowns. A girl in her early twenties came into the bar and sat facing me a few tables away. After we exchanged the international head nod for “You’re at the same place as I am,” she got up and sat one table closer.