The black haired woman’s hands shook every so after while reading excerpts from the great Gail Scott. I was hopeful when she had finally finished her wordy introduction and finally introduced the well known and respected fiction writer, in hopes that the author would be a bit more exciting in while reading her works; giving it more justice than the announcer.
Gail Scott was remarkable. Her own personal persona was witty and informative. She rambled at times but gave off a good vibe, I liked her. She stood down right center on the Proscenium stage, defining her space and her title with no exaggerated smoke effects or bright spotlight needed to shine down upon her.
She stood out as a person, non glamorized, simply put, a regular a person like you and I; reading passionately from her favorite pieces and even graced us with unfinished work that she’d been working on for quite some time. She stood in probably an inch taller than me and was wrapped in black clothing, allowing only a green scarf to attract any attention as it loosely hung down from her neck swaying here and there as she read her words intensely. I loved to watch people her were passionate about their work and actually fulfilling their dreams.
The piece of fiction from which she had been reading was dedicated to her mother that had passed away at a young age. It takes place in a triplex (a house with three floors) that housed different families. The main character’s name was Rosleen. She was the heroine aka protagonist. Scott mentioned before indulging into the piece with us that everyone in the novel was a ghost, she thinks. I chuckled out loud at the statement, what a witty thing to say. You are the author, yet you are even undecided about the physical forms of the character. Yes, I liked Scott indeed.
The reading ended with a sex scene! I looked around the auditorium and watched as everyone’s facial expression grew alarmed and intrigued as the scene heightened. What an amazing writer, her use of “show don’t tell” was on point. I wish I could re-read this excerpt from this unfinished novel so that I can further analyze the whereabouts of the plot and deeper meaning. I’m honored to have had the opportunity to attend my first reading. The fact that Gail Scott was the guest made it all worthwhile.
I will now discuss my take and interpretation on Henry Louis Gates, Jr.'s " Sunday". The author is using the argument that white people can't cook and black people can because they season their food to relate to different issues that were going on in the civil rights movement on so many different levels. By saying white people can't cook he's saying that they are inferior to blacks in a sense because blacks can. Blacks can survive without the white man, and on several different accounts. The black man appreciates his family and takes eating with his family as a blessing and a time to be free and feel loved. The black man has more charisma and flavor. The black man is appreciative of the little things in life. He has no choice but to be since in this era things are constantly getting stripped from him solely because of the color of his skin. The narrator is looking and things in a sarcastic yet positive light. He's basically asking, why is it so important to integrate restaurants when the whites can't cook anyway? Why sacrifice time with my loved ones to eat with those who feel everyone BUT love towards me? Why?
Also when the essay states "They don't know nothin' about seasoning...I like my food seasoned." I viewed this as a comparison between white and black culture as a whole. Blacks like their stuff (in general) with a little flavor! Music, style of dress, even the way they (we, me being black) talk. Everything has a sense of edginess and flavor; in modern slang - swag. When on the other hand whites don't. They are proper speaking, they have no rhythm, and their style of dress has no flavor. They yearn to be like the black man and embody the black man's swag, studies have proven that white America buys more rap albums then black America does. That shows a lot.
Of course, while writing this response I'm going off of general stereotypes of white and black culture (to make a point about the reading).
