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Book Review: How to Say Babylon: A Memoir by Safiya Sinclair
A poet recalls her childhood growing up as a minoritized Rastafarian in Jamaica with an abusive father.
Summary:
Throughout her childhood, Safiya Sinclair’s father, a volatile reggae musician and militant adherent to a strict sect of Rastafari, became obsessed with her purity, in particular, with the threat of what Rastas call Babylon, the immoral and corrupting influences of the Western world outside their home. He worried that womanhood would make Safiya and her sisters morally weak and impure, and believed a woman’s highest virtue was her obedience.
In an effort to keep Babylon outside the gate, he forbade almost everything. In place of pants, the women in her family were made to wear long skirts and dresses to cover their arms and legs, head wraps to cover their hair, no make-up, no jewelry, no opinions, no friends. Safiya’s mother, while loyal to her father, nonetheless gave Safiya and her siblings the gift of books, including poetry, to which Safiya latched on for dear life. And as Safiya watched her mother struggle voicelessly for years under housework and the rigidity of her father’s beliefs, she increasingly used her education as a sharp tool with which to find her voice and break free. Inevitably, with her rebellion comes clashes with her father, whose rage and paranoia explodes in increasing violence. As Safiya’s voice grows, lyrically and poetically, a collision course is set between them.
Review:
I picked this memoir up because I was interested in learning more about Rastafarianism. I was a religious studies minor in university, but Rastafarianism wasn’t something we’d touched on. The beginning of this book really delivered on educating me about the faith.
The memoir starts with a little introduction to Rastafarianism along with a brief history of Safiya’s father’s childhood and her mother’s childhood and what led each of them to convert to Rastafarianism. The religion sprang up in the 1930s as a faith of the most oppressed peoples in Jamaica. There is some disagreement as to whether Rastafarianism is a sect of Christianity or a separate faith entirely. Most Rastas believe that the Ethiopian Emperor Ras Tafari was the second coming of Christ. (In spite of him directly telling Rastas when he visited Jamaica that he was not Christ. Rastas felt that’s something Christ would say.) Just as with all faiths, there is a spectrum of beliefs and observances among Rastas. But there are three that are common.
First that the hair should not be cut, instead left in its natural state, leading them to dreadlocking it. Second, reggae as spiritual music. Third, smoking marijuana for spiritual experiences. Many Rastas are vegetarian, some are strict vegans. (Read more.) Something I found really beautiful was how Rastas adjust their speech, specifically how they will say “the I-and-I” as a reminder that God is indwelling in them. Safiya’s father will sometimes say “the I-man” to clarify when it was something limited to just him, and not him and God. The only thing I knew about Rastafarianism before I read this book was that it was common in Jamaica, so I learned a lot in an easy, beautiful way. The author didn’t just rely on her own childhood understanding of the faith but also interviewed Rasta elders and did some additional reading for the book. And it shows. To me, this was the strongest part of the book.
I thought when I picked this up it was a memoir of religion, but I think after reading it would be more accurate to say it was a memoir about an abusive father/daughter relationship that was at least a bit entwined with religion. So the focus was the abuse, not the religion. But it was necessary to understand the religion in order to understand some of where her father was coming from. Safiya’s father was on the more conservative end of the spectrum with regards to Rastafarianism. (He was also a reggae musician who kept running up against bad luck.) The family were strict vegans. He was more patriarchal and quite concerned about keeping his daughters safe from “Babylon” (the outside influence and dangers) in a way he wasn’t so much about his son.
But there are things that surprised me given the clear conservative lean of the family. The children all go to school. The daughters are encouraged to excel just as much as the son is. (The author even gets into an elite private school on scholarship, something that makes her parents very proud.) The children are allowed to continue living at home, even when they do things that go against the Rastafarian way. For example, the author models and cuts off her dreadlocks. I also was surprised to learn that Rastas were treated poorly in Jamaica while the author was growing up. She’s ridiculed due to being Rasta, and it wasn’t possible for her to pass as no one else seemed to have dreadlocks.
The abuse, though, is quite brutal. I was expecting from the book’s description emotional/spiritual abuse. Those do exist. But serious physical abuse does as well. One chapter titled “The Red Belt” made my chest ache to read. Any reader going into the book should be aware of this. I think some readers will relate to how Safiya deals with her father, and others will struggle to understand it.
The author is primarily a poet. Her work in poetry is what helped her achieve her goal of emigrating from Jamaica. Her poetic skills are evident in this book. I’m sure a reader who loves poetry will connect with this more than I did. I struggle to connect with poetry and so, even though I saw the beauty in the words, I struggled for them to move me. Similarly, while I always love to hear people talk about what they love doing, I didn’t connect with the author’s connection to poetry the way I would if I loved it similarly.
Overall, this is a book that will mean a lot to a reader who loves poetry and is able to read passages about physical and emotional abuse. Readers who like to root for someone to pivot into a life entirely different from how they grew up.
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3 out of 5 stars
Length: 352 pages – average but on the longer side
Source: Library
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