It’s July 15, 2016. I have been gone far too long. But I am reclaiming this space even as I restate my claim to the ideas and initiatives I champion. Be on the lookout this summer for the essay “The Praedial Larcenist” in the summer edition of the Caribbean Quarterly, a literary journal published by the University of the West Indies.
This is the opening paragraph of The Praedial Larcenist.
Ripe mangoes, like Eve’s apple, exert an unnatural attraction on young island boys. The fruits, a sunset orange and sunflower yellow, tempt and dare us, urge us to pick them, disregarding the laws of sowing and reaping, privacy and property. For years, a mango tree stood barren across the street from our flower garden, at once inviting and frustrating. Then one summer, perhaps ’71 or ’72, when I was an amble and agile ten going on eleven, its blossoms sprouted and bloomed.