Counter-discourse in Jamaica Kincaid’s a Small Place

In the Western imagination, the Caribbean has often been romanticized as a paradise, enticing countless tourists seeking respite from their mundane lives. However, this idyllic portrayal is met with resentment by many Caribbean natives, particularly writers, who voice their indignation against the tourism industry and the consequent economic and environmental exploitation. Notably, Antiguan author Jamaica Kincaid critiques this phenomenon in her work A Small Place. Adele S. Newson-Hurst and Munashe Furusa assert that Kincaid’s perspective on tourism transcends mere leisure travel, linking it instead to a new economic order sustained by injustice (Newson-Hurst 142). They argue that Kincaid connects tourism to an imperial order designed to commodify the Caribbean, relegating its people to a sub-human status for the consumption of a colonial gaze (142). This essay aims to delve deeper into Kincaid’s use of postcolonial counter-discursive strategies in A Small Place, revealing how she challenges exploitative imperialist attitudes towards the Caribbean and the West Indies.

Understanding Counter-Discourse

Counter-discourse is a critical element in the study of postcolonial literature. Helen Tiffin, in her essay “Post-Colonial Literatures and Counter-Discourse,” argues that the objective of postcolonial literature is to investigate and intervene in the European textual capture of colonial and post-colonial spaces (Tiffin 101). This is achieved through counter-discourse, which aims not to replace the dominant narrative but to expose and undermine its biases (99). Tiffin elaborates that counter-discursive strategies involve mapping the dominant discourse and dismantling its underlying assumptions from the perspective of the "imperially subjectified local" (101). For Kincaid, this means subverting the Orientalist view of the Caribbean as a tropical paradise filled with idyllic imagery, as noted by Leah Rosenberg, who describes it as a place of “island music,” “pristine beaches,” and “attentive black waiting staff” (Rosenberg 361). Kincaid utilizes two key strategies to achieve this: first, by illustrating the harsh realities of life in Antigua, and second, by positioning her readers as the “imperially subjectified local,” effectively silencing their voices in the process.

The Origins of the Caribbean Paradise Myth

There are various interpretations regarding the emergence of the Caribbean as a perceived paradise. Rosenberg identifies several contributing factors, including the decline of the British Empire and the rise of the United States as an imperial power, alongside the cultural phenomena of the calypso craze and the emergence of a recognized West Indian literary tradition (362). Conversely, Richard Grove, in his work “Green Imperialism,” traces the allure of tropical islands back to the Middle Ages, suggesting that the quest for Eden contributed significantly to the romanticized image of places like Antigua (Grove 499). It is this constructed image of the Caribbean as an Edenic utopia that Kincaid endeavors to dismantle in A Small Place.

Anti-Guidebook: The Reality of Antigua

Lesley Larkin characterizes Kincaid’s A Small Place as an “anti-guidebook,” contrasting the stark realities of Antigua with the glossy representations often promoted by tourism (Larkin 195). Kincaid’s depiction of Antigua reveals a landscape marred by political corruption and environmental degradation. For instance, she discusses the island’s persistent drought, which tourists might misinterpret as a charm, lamenting the lack of concern tourists show for the residents who must endure such conditions (4). Furthermore, Kincaid critiques the romanticized images of tourists frolicking in the ocean, revealing the grim reality of inadequate sewage systems that threaten public health (13-14). This stark portrayal of Antigua not only challenges the idealized narrative but also highlights the exploitation of local resources to cater to the whims of tourists.

The Tourist and Their Reading Practices

While Kincaid expresses disdain for tourists, Larkin argues that her primary target is not tourism per se, but rather the phenomenon of “tourist-reading,” which refers to a selective form of reading that obscures cultural specificity (Larkin 195). Kincaid illustrates how this discourse constructs both the tourist site and the identity of the tourists themselves, often homogenizing their experiences and perspectives (196). By utilizing second-person address, Kincaid implicates her readers—often privileged white individuals—in the systemic injustices faced by Antiguans, critiquing their complicity in colonialism and the exploitation of Caribbean culture (194). This technique serves to dehumanize her audience, mirroring the way imperialist ideologies have marginalized the voices of colonized peoples.

Confronting the Reader: A Call to Accountability

Kincaid’s approach forces readers to confront their complicity in the historical injustices faced by the Antiguan people. She poses provocative questions, challenging readers to reflect on the consequences of colonialism: “Have you ever wondered why it is that all people like me seem to have learned from you is how to imprison and murder each other?” (Kincaid 34). By presenting such accusations, Kincaid removes the possibility of defense from her readers, compelling them to experience the subhuman status imposed by colonial discourse. The unrelenting tone of her accusations—“You murdered people,” “You robbed people”—underscores the burden of accountability placed on the reader (35).

Conclusion

In A Small Place, Jamaica Kincaid employs powerful counter-discursive strategies to challenge the dominant narratives surrounding the Caribbean as a paradise. Through her incisive critique of tourism and the exploitative structures that sustain it, Kincaid invites readers to reflect on their roles within these systems. By positioning her audience as complicit in the injustices faced by Antiguans, Kincaid transforms the act of reading into a profound confrontation with the realities of colonialism and its enduring effects. Ultimately, Kincaid’s work serves as a poignant reminder of the need to dismantle the romanticized narratives that obscure the lived experiences of those in the Caribbean.

References

1. Carrigan, Anthony. “Hotels Are Squatting on My Metaphors: Tourism, Sustainability, and Sacred Space in the Caribbean.” Journal of Commonwealth and Postcolonial Studies 13-14.2-1 (2006): 59-82.

2. Grove, Richard. “Green Imperialism.” The Post-Colonial Studies Reader. Ed. Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge, 2006.

3. Kincaid, Jamaica. A Small Place. New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1988.

4. Larkin, Lesley. "Reading and Being Read: Jamaica Kincaid's A Small Place as Literary Agent." Callaloo 35.1 (2012): 193-211.

5. Newson-Hurst, Adele S., and Munashe Furusa. "The Anti-Tourism Aesthetics of Nawal El Saadawi and Jamaica Kincaid." Emerging Perspectives on Nawal El Saadawi. Ed. Ernest N. Emenyonu and Maureen N. Eke. Trenton: Africa World, 2010.

6. Rosenberg, Leah. “It’s Enough to Make Any Woman Catch the Next Plane to Barbados: Constructing the Postwar West Indies as Paradise.” Third Text 28.4/5 (2014): 361-376.

7. Tiffin, Helen. “Post-Colonial Literatures and Counter-Discourse.” The Post-Colonial Studies Reader. Ed. Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin. 2nd ed. New York: Routledge, 2006.