Like all consummate artists, Johnson writes about what he knows best – the double-edged sword that is colonial invasion. He spent most of his life in Britain, and has an academic background in sociology, but it is his personal experiences that he draws upon in his poetry. Despite having the sort of education that the black community in Britain was not encouraged to pursue, he remains in touch with his fellow immigrants and descendants thereof. Through his work, he communicates for them. He gives them a voice that they did not realise they were entitled to and did not have, particularly in the 1970s and early-to-mid 1980s.
Aside from the linguistic difficulties of his work, there is the emotional: this makes for disturbing reading most of the time. There are stories of calculated police brutality, violation of even the most basic of human rights and how the press sought to minimise coverage of the injustices suffered by the West Indian community centred in London. The images conjured are vivid to the point where the reader is forced to relive the experience.
One such poem that struck me in this manner is ‘Sonny’s Lettah’. Written from the point of view of a black man who finds himself incarcerated after killing a policeman in defence of his friend – a target of the police for wrongful vagrancy. You can actually listen to Johnson reading it online. The sections of the poem that seem most driven by a very obvious rhythm are the ones detailing the brutality of the police, and the men defending themselves.
One finds a similar thing in play in ‘New Crass Massakah’. Initially it starts off as being rhythmic because there is a party, which later on escalates into an act of unexpected atrocity:
'New Crass Massakah'
(to the memory of the fourteen dead)
first di comin
an di goin
in an out af di pawtydi dubbin
an di rubbin
and di rackin to di riddimdi dancin
an di scankin
an di pawty really swingin
Article comments
1 - Natalie Bennett
This article has been selected for syndication to Advance.net, which is affiliated with newspapers around the United States. Nice work!
2 - Snarkattack
Thanks very much Natalie! I'm so flattered, truly.
3 - Ray Ellis
Nice and informative article. I used to listen to listen to Linton Qwesi Johnson's reggae recordings, but you provided a new insight into his work--I would have never connected him to Chaucer! Good work, and congrats!
4 - Snarkattack
Thanks Ray, for your comment and kind words. I'd love to hear his reggae recordings, he's a bit before my time but he writes a lot about the London I was born into. Chaucer was a Londoner I believe, so they do have more in common than we think.
5 - -E
Congrats! This article has been selected as one of this week’s Editors’ Picks.
6 - Snarkattack
Aw, thank you! It means so much to me that the Blogcritics folk seem to enjoy my reviews.
7 - Douglas Watts
This is a fair review. LKJ's Jamaican patois is not easy to understand on the printed page unless you already know the words from listening to his recorded versions. His CD "Live with the Dub Band -- 1984" (LKJ Records) is good because he introduces each poem with a concise description of what it is about and why he wrote.
8 - Snarkattack
I do hope that means it's satisfactory, Douglas? :) Either way, thank you very much for your comment.
Personally, I'm fortunate in that my father and some of my Anglo-Indian relatives are originally from the West Indies, so the inflections and rhythms of the patois is a little less foreign to me but I wanted to try and encourage the reader who may have less background.
Naturally, emotion is conveyed very well in LKJ's readings, so it's not necessary to understand each and every word but rather to rely on our personal humanity, and intuition.
He really is an amazing artist, I'm very glad to have discovered his work.