Two years ago, I read Salman Rushdie’s Imaginary Homelands, in which he candidly discusses many aspects of his fiction; it made me take a fresh look at the role of writers—albeit a very limited one—as critics of their work. Nevertheless, D. H. Lawrence’s oft-quoted dictum: “Trust the tale, not the teller,” emerges like a wagging finger every time I undertake to discuss my writing. Therefore, my purpose here is not to influence your own interpretation of A Different Hurricane but merely to share a personal reflection on my writing.
The focus in my recent novel A Different Hurricane is undoubtedly on Queer Caribbean men who mask as heterosexuals. I intended the novel to be this way. But readers who are familiar with my other novels will notice another of my preoccupations: parenting. Gordon is at first opposed to being a father. Indeed, it’s one of the conditions his partner Allan insists on for their continued relationship. But Gordon becomes a father, initially unwillingly. Thereafter he must choose to either remain in Montreal where he is leading an authentic gay life or return to St Vincent to parent his daughter Frida. He chooses the latter.
What accounts for his choice? Paternal instincts? (I have had a long-running debate with myself about my own paternal instincts, and I am delighted that in Europe and North America Queer couples can and do opt to be parents). Even Allan, who cannot have children, dotes on Frida, is indeed her surrogate father for the four years that Gordon is in Montreal, away from her. Audiences, depending on whether they are Caribbean or non-Caribbean, will respond differently to Gordon’s choice. Europeans and North Americans, most non-Caribbean people for that matter, will see it as Gordon’s moral responsibility to be a hands-on dad. However, a Caribbean friend of mine, who holds a PHD, avers that women in the Caribbean have long been single parents, and he feels that the North American claims about the benefits of the nuclear family are exaggerated. He would say that Gordon could have left Frida’s care to Maureen, Gordon’s mother-in-law Maggie, Allan, and Maureen’s friend Beth (who later becomes Allan’s wife), for in the Caribbean, “the village raises the child.” (Edith Clarke’s pioneering scholarship on this subject, My Mother Who Fathered Me, is highly prized by Caribbean sociologists for its exploration of this phenomenon.)
Among the minor characters in A Different Hurricane, there are examples of both kinds of fathers. But Gordon is keenly aware that even in two-parent households there’s the heinous practice of flogging children for even the slightest misdemeanours—a heritage of slavery. Traumatized by his father’s violence, Gordon knows that he must be present to protect Frida from such violence.
H. Nigel Thomas is a Vincentian-Canadian who lives in the Montreal suburb of Greenfield Park. He is the author of thirteen books, comprising fiction, poetry, and literary criticism. He most recent novel is A Different Hurricane. He is the recipient of many awards, including the 2022 Canada Council for the Arts Molson Prize.