Shani Mootoo Boeken

EVERYONE THINKS MALA IS A MURDERER 'A Caribbean classic' Monique Roffey, author of The Mermaid of Black Conch ------- Everyone in Paradise thinks Mala Ramchandin is a murderer. But with no body, no evidence and no witnesses, Mala is sent to an Alms House as a madwoman instead of prison. Here she meets Tyler, the only openly queer person on the island of Lantanacamara with whom she feels an affinity as an outsider. Despite Mala's muteness, she manages to communicate with Tyler about her missing sister, Asha. This is Mala's story, and an appeal to find Asha, told in Tyler's words. He dives deeply into Mala's family history, uncovering years of trauma passed down through generations and - staggeringly, beautifully - the love that has survived through it all. With an introduction by Ingrid Persaud. 'Visceral, sensual and heartbreakingly tender' Ayanna Lloyd Banwo, author of When We Were Birds 'A story of magical power' Alice Munro, author of Dear Life 'Will remind many readers of Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things' Kirkus 'Clearly ahead of its time' Bookseller FINALIST FOR THE GILLER PRIZE FINALIST FOR THE ETHEL WILSON FICTION PRIZE LONGLISTED FOR THE BOOKER PRIZE

A novel reminiscent of the works of Herman Koch and Rachel Cusk, in which a lesbian couple attempts to escape the secrets of their pasts.

Set against the backdrop of the fictional Caribbean island of Guanagaspar during World War II and modern-day Vancouver, this novel explores themes of identity, love, and loss. The narrative weaves together the lives of its characters, revealing their struggles and connections across time and place. It builds on the foundation laid by Shani Mootoo's acclaimed debut, delving into complex relationships and the impact of history on personal lives.

Jonathan Lewis-Adey was nine when his parents separated, and his mother, Sid, vanished entirely from his life. It is not until he is a grown man that Jonathan finally reconnects with his beloved lost parent, only to find, to his shock and dismay, that the woman he knew as 'Sid' in Toronto has become an elegant man named Sydney living in his native Trinidad. For nine years, Jonathan has paid regular visits to Sydney on his island retreat, trying with quiet desperation to rediscover the parent he adored inside this familiar stranger, and to overcome his lingering confusion and anger at the choices Sydney has made.

My mother was an Anglican My father was a priest Together they prayed real hard When spring came (and the Pitch Lake overflowed) They reaped the smoothest stones you've ever seen From internationally celebrated writer and visual artist Shani Mootoo comes Cane | Fire, an immersive and vivid collection that marks a long-awaited return to poetry. Akin to a poetic memoir, past and present are in conversation with each other throughout this evocative, sensual collection as the narrator moves from Ireland to San Fernando, and finally to Canada. The reinterpretations and translation of this journey and associated family history give the present meaning. Through these deeply personal poems, and Mootoo's own artwork, we begin to understand how a life can not only be shaped, but even reimagined.

Two-timer I am, infatuated With the country in which I love Yearning in corners, around bends For the one I grew up in Shani Mootoo's great-great-grandparents were brought to Trinidad as indentured labourers by the British. There is no record of where they were from in India or whether it was kidnapping, trickery, or false promises of wealth that took them to the Caribbean. In Oh Witness Dey! Mootoo expands the question of origins, from ancestry percentages and journey narratives, through memory, story, and lyric fragments. These vibrant poems transcend the tropes of colonial violence through saints and spices, rebellion and joy, to reimagine tensions and solidarities among various diasporas. They circumvent traditional conventions of style to find new routes toward understanding. They invite the reader to witness history, displacements and the legacies of our inheritance.