You remembered having laughed at the thought that getting down on your knees could redeem you.
It’s hard to believe this is a debut novel. Maisy Card’s dialogue is written with authentic accents , which seems necessary to flavor this story as it pulls the readers through the dirt of history. As she exposes the deceptions of a Jamaican family through generations, we travel through time from Jamaica to Brooklyn. The characters can be downright devilish or desperate. It is a brutal tale, that begins with Abel Paisley faking his own death and assuming another man’s identity. The ghosts in this family aren’t all dead, and those who have been long in the ground refuse to remain silent. Secrets have a way of climbing out of the grave. Abel’s abandonment of his wife Vera steals all smiles from his children’s lives, puts an end to their mother’s tenderness. The daughter he raised under his assumed identity Stanford Solomon, fared no better and is nothing but an embarrassment. Her own child will wonder “if there is someone out there who could wear your life better.” Her grandfather knows that answer best.
Vera is nothing but an angry ghost now, born to the knowledge of her husband’s deception only after her own death. But what can a ghost do but watch and remember her life, now vanished from her hands? She can only simmer and focus on revenge. We the reader can go back through the years to see where the betrayals first began. When Abel shucked his life, Vera became a young widow ‘drowning under the weight of keeping a house and tending two small children’, and hired Bernard. A teenager himself, not yet a man, she finds uses for Bernard that keeps him obedient. What cost is there in so much loyalty, all the years he made this family he worked for his life? The rest of the family see him as nothing but a servant, Vera’s yard boy, a modern day slave. Slaves just like the ones once kept in Harold Town. Bernard has his own secret history, jealous of a dead husband, taking his place in his own way but always an outsider, never granted full entrance into the house nor within the family. Grieving harder for Vera than her own blood. The searing pain of loss forces him into his own brand of madness, and the choice Abel made still keeps spinning everyone’s lives.
Further back still we reach looking for atonement, hoping our DNA tells the tales of our ancestors but not quite ready for horror stories. But it is in the heirlooms, such as the battered leather book that one’s great -great -great -great Grandfather, Harold Fowler’s, sins are recorded. Here, Debbie reads about the running of his Jamaican sugar plantation in the 1800’s. She isn’t prepared to digest the horrors of slavery, nor the nightmares that are visited upon her that feel more like possessions. History cannot be denied.
As Vera’s children sort through their childhood differently, one clinging to the good memories, another to the rotten ones, they must face what their mother was. Superstition runs rampant among the people, but what is reality, what is folklore? Adultery, unwanted children, drug addiction, blood thirsty little girls, secret histories, lies, slavery, rape… every single character is a trembling branch on the family tree. The truth is elusive, as solid as ghosts.
This debut is disturbingly engaging and one hell of a complicated tale. If we picked the bones of our own family history clean, would we too feel poisoned? Is this why it is often said to let sleeping dogs lie? It’s a shamefully dirty history, but makes for captivating fiction!
Publication Date: March 3, 2020
Simon & Schuster