Electricity Comes To Cocoa Bottom

Marcia Douglas

Electricity Comes to Cocoa Bottom takes the reader on a journey of light, from the flicker of the firefly in rural Jamaica, through the half-moonlight of the limbo of exile in the USA to the point of arrival and reconnection imaged by the eight-pointed star. It is also a journey of the voice, traversing back and forth across the Atlantic and across continents, pushing its way through word censors and voice mufflers and ending in tongues of fire. In making this book a Poetry Book Society recommendation, its selector commented: 'Marcia Douglas has the kind of intent but relaxed concentration which ushers the reader into the life of a poem and makes the event - a wedding, a hot afternoon, an aeroplane journey - seem for a while like the centre of things. This is a rich and very welcome book.' June Owens writes in The Caribbean Writer: 'Some writers leave their creative handprints in dark caves where only later happenstance may, perhaps, discover them. Some writers stamp their entire selves upon the language, upon a culture, upon literature and upon our consciousness in so intimate, singular, well-illumined and indelible a manner that there can be no mistaking their poems and prose for those of another. Such a writer is Marcia Douglas.' Electricity Comes to Cocoa Bottom by Marcia Douglas

The title, Cocoa Bottom, is exotic - these people are not used to electricity. Narrative feel throughout poem.

Then all the children of Cocoa Bottom went to see Mr. Samuel's electric lights. - God-like, miracle worker, great spectacle They camped on the grass bank outside his house, their lamps filled with oil, - aware of light, not electricity; artificiality of western world will corrupt them waiting for sunset, watching the sky turn yellow, orange. Grannie Patterson across the road peeped through the crack in her porch door. The cable was drawn like a pencil line across the sun. - cable scarred landscape The fireflies waited in the shadows, - think they're better than God because even fireflies turn off their light; nature comes to see lights come on their lanterns off. - God turning off his light; kids used to creation The kling-klings swooped in from the hills, - inferior to mankind congregating in the orange trees. A breeze coming home from sea held its breath; - nature is not regarded the same bamboo lining the dirt road stopped its swaing, and evening came as soft as chiffon curtains: Closing. Closing. - something new is frightening

Light! - nature beautiful, mankind ugly Mr. Samuel smiling on the verandah a silhouette against the yellow shimmer behind him - - seems like God with yellow shimmer and there arising such a gasp, such a fluttering of wings, - birds frightened tweet-a-whit, such a swaying, swaying. Light! Marvellous light! - think nature is marvelling light; brought age reason, science And then the breeze rose up from above the trees, swelling and swelling into a wind such that the long grass bent forward stretching across the bank like so many bowed heads. - worship Mr. S above God And a voice in the wind whispered: Is there one among us to record this moment? - nature wins? But there was none no one (except for a few warm rocks hidden among mongoose ferns) even heard a sound. Already the children of Cocoa Bottom had lit their lamps for the dark journey home, - kids corrupted once seen artificial light and it was too late the moment had passed. - kids lives, nothing the same again
Electricity Comes To Cocoa Bottom
Electricity Comes to Cocoa Bottom takes the reader on a journey of light, from the flicker of the firefly in rural Jamaica, through the half-moonlight of the limbo of exile in the USA to the point of arrival and reconnection imaged by the eight-pointed star.It is also a journey of the voice, traversing back and forth across the Atlantic and across continents, pushing its way through word censors and voice mufflers and ending in tongues of fire.In making this book a Poetry Book Society recommendation, its selector commented: 'Marcia Douglas has the kind of intent but relaxed concentration which ushers the reader into the life of a poem and makes the event - a wedding, a hot afternoon, an aeroplane journey - seem for a while like the centre of things. This is a rich and very welcome book.'June Owens writes in The Caribbean Writer: 'Some writers leave their creative handprints in dark caves where only later happenstance may, perhaps, discover them. Some writers stamp their entire selves upon the language, upon a culture, upon literature and upon our consciousness in so intimate, singular, well-illumined and indelible a manner that there can be no mistaking their poems and prose for those of another. Such a writer

is Marcia Douglas.' Her first publications appeared in Sister of Caliban: A Multilingual Anthology of Contemporary Caribbean Women Poets (1996) and in Callaloo, Sun Dog: Southeast Review, Phoebe and APTE.Her first collection of poems, Electricity Comes to Cocoa Bottom (Peepal Tree, 1999) won a Poetry Book Society recommendation. It explores the recuperation of Jamaican place and voice from the perspective of a young woman in urban America in resistance to culturally annihilating forces in that society. She writes of the memories which went into these poems: To write these poems was to traverse my navel string back to my Jamaican grandmother who I remember working at a foot-pedalled sewing machine by the light of a kerosene lamp, the words Home Sweet Home on the glass shade; it was to return to the feel of her new cloth, and in that (re)membering, to realize that somewhere in the relationship between line and linen, text and textile, my grandmother, humming and stitching, had bequeathed to me her voice and creative spirit.To write these poems was to remember my mother (who, going to town as a young country girl and seeing an electric light for the first time, sat and wondered: How to turn it on?) Together, my parents unleashed the trick in electricity, my mother bought a new Bernina sewing machine and by the time I was born, the lights were so bright, I screamed right out loud.It is this scream which traverses the space between kerosene lamp and light bulb, journeying back and forth across the Atlantic and across continents, pushing its way through word censors and voice mufflers, and ending in tongues of fire. At my fathers baptism in Yallahs River, it is said that he received the gift of tongues. After fifteen long years of working in England, he had recently returned to Jamaica on a ship, The Mimosa. I was seven years old, and remember standing by the water, my father wet and glistening, his neck strings taut, his voice booming in an unknown language, Oh shali wah, shail mahi wah. I was just a little girl and did not understand the full implication of the event, but even then, I sensed such power in the moment that I began to cry and had to turn away because I knew I would not be able to explain my tears. For many years afterward, I wondered, did Daddy speak in the language of God and angels? Or did he just make one up to suit himself? Whatever the answer, what I remember is the passion in his voice, this fire, which ultimately informs these poems. In my imagi(nation) I watch my grandmother thread her needle, and I traverse my navel string back to her side where her feet pedal the sewing machine... She sews as she hums and hums as she sews, smiling at the firefly on the window. She knows stories of women who shed their skin and become balls of fire, thread in, thread out; and of women who catch words between their teeth, thread in, thread out... My grandmother died a few years ago, but I have one of her dresses which she made with her own two hands. Its old and worn from many washings and mostly I keep it folded in a special place, but increasingly, in need of a muse - I put it on. It fits me perfectly.In 2000, she published her first novel, Madam Fate with The Womens Press. She currently lives in Boulder, Colorado with her daughter, Avani.

What is Magical Realism? Isabel Allende said, "Let's first begin by defining "Magical Realism". Magical Realism is a genre that combines realitiy and surreality onto the same plane. Many people confuse this genre with Science Fiction so let me give you a quick example that highlights the difference between the two: "She ascended to heaven". That's science fiction because the phenomenon of a person rising to heaven is entirely extraordinary. "She ascended to heaven wrapped a flickering flame of silk sheets". Now that's magical realism because the silk sheets offer a mysterious explanation as to why and how this woman is floating to heaven. With such vivid imagery and tangible reality, what WAS extraordinary now seems to be much more plausible, although the explanation for it is illogical and strange. Magical realism, therefore, is a perfect device for expressing a reality that is rich and complex. Personally, however, I don't like how critics came up with this term because I believe that magical occurences in everyday life is not so implausible so to assign a special term for is is quite discouraging." Electricity Comes to Cocoa Bottom, a Poetry Book Society recommendation, begins in a disarmingly straightforward way: 'Then all the children of Cocoa Bottom / went to see Mr. Samuels electric lights,' and Marcia Douglass title poem proceeds to ignite this gathering of twenty-eight pieces.Whether writing of onefooted Myrtle, displaced, homesick men aboard the Ascania, a Rwandan woman gone mad who 'had eaten / the hearts / of dead children / to stay / alive,' of how distance can destroy memory but prayer raises 'the wilted cassia;' whether writing about remembering ones birth-moment and how a mothers groans become a babys first scream, about a sleeping old woman on a plane who wakes up frightened and speaking in tongues, or of Madda Winnie clothing herself in trash bags, Douglas herself writes 'in tongues,' from a mix of power, empathy, poetic imagery, and grace.Blue light slants through the blindsand makes horizontal marks like notepaper on the wall. I fill in the lines:Oh shali waashali mahi wa.Shali.Shali.Douglas knows the value of judicious restatement, using it more as drumhead echo than drumbeat repetition. [...]Some writers leave their creative handprints in dark caves where only later happenstance may, perhaps, discover them. Some writers stamp their entire selves upon the language, upon a culture, upon literature and upon our consciousness in so intimate, singular, well-illumined and indelible a manner that there can be no mistaking their poems and prose for those of another. Such a writer is Marcia Douglas. Grannie Patterson _ name suggests an old lady, contrasting with the children _ her interest in what happens shows how powerfully all the community were affected by this experience

_ character details add depth to the presentation - her peeping suggests curiosity, perhaps nosiness, even embarrassment (doesnt want to be seen watching). Mr. Samuel _ the fact that the lights are defined as his lights - Mr. Samuels lights- suggests how unique the event is and how important he is _ his smiling shows how pleased and triumphant he is at the display. The children _ importance of the event is shown by the fact that all the children came to see the lights _ the fact that they camped on the grass bank suggests that they were prepared to arrive early and wait for a long time, emphasising how special the occasion was _ details like their lamps filled with oil show in ironic contrast with the traditional technology they depend on _ their unfussy departure at the end Already the children. perhaps indicates a degree of disappointment. The voice in the wind _ the fact that the voice whispered underlines how serious the occasion was, almost like being at a religious service or ceremony _ introduces a note of sadness, because its unanswered question shows there is nobody to record such a significant event - also nobody hears the voice _ an ironic twist is that the poet herself has provided a record of this moment. The vivid and dramatic use of language _ Caribbean words give a strong sense of an actual place Cocoa Bottom, klingklings orange trees mongoose ferns _ colourful descriptive words yellow, orange _ many references to light natural and artificial sunset lanterns fireflies shimmer _ contrasting words which suggest darkness - silhouette dark journey home _ words which convey movement swooped fluttering swaying many linked to the impact of the light _ words and phrases patterned to create suspense - watchingwaiting, such a gasp...such a flutteringsuch a swaying _ nature is given human characteristics A breeze held its breath to emphasise the impact of the lights

_ description is brought to life by the use of words whose sound brings out their meaning fluttering tweet-a-whit _ atmosphere created by choice of apt words and comparisons - congregating (as in a church/temple) evening came as soft as chiffon curtains. _ lines and sentences patterned to develop tension, create a dramatic climax, followed by a quiet ending - begins quietly, almost as if in the middle of a story Then all the children.. - pace slows at end of the first verse Closing. Closing. - single word exclamation Light! provides dramatic contrast - momentum builds again with longer lines - ends in a very downbeat way the moment had passed suggesting disappointment, sadness.

Ede