The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Monday, April 1, 2019 — 5A

It seems a shame that I should encounter 
“Jane the Virgin” in all its quirky, ambitious, 
pastel-coated glory and be made horribly, 
unspeakably angry. But that’s how the show’s 
last seven or so episodes have left me feeling. 
Not through any fault of their own — “Jane the 
Virgin” is the same formally interesting gem it 
has always been: sweet but caustic, a great lofty 
experiment in how many things a character can 
be and feel and say 
at 
once. 
What 
makes me mad is 
not how much the 
show is giving us, 
but how little it is 
getting in return.
There 
are 
subreddits of men 
who have devoted 
their 
lives 
to 
close reading the, 
oh I don’t know, 
four-hour, 
seven-
minute 
mark 
of 
the fifth episode 
of “Westworld,” a show so prestige-desperate 
and enamored of its own muddy mythology that 
it forgot to be even nominally watchable. Alec 
Baldwin — yes, Alec Baldwin — won an Emmy 
last year for his Donald Trump portrayal on 
“Saturday Night Live” because, hey, it’s Alec 
Baldwin, and he’s in an oversized suit and a silly 
wig and isn’t it nice when political commentary 
is actually neither political nor commentary but 
instead some sort of feckless lookalike contest?
With contemporaries like these, how could 
one not be angered by “Jane the Virgin”’s 
perennial Emmy snubbing? The show’s only two 
nominations have been for its terrific narrator, 
Anthony Mendez (who lost both times to PBS 
documentaries). There are a few likely reasons 
for this failure. First, of course, the show is 
unmistakably feminine. Jane Villanueva (Gina 
Rodriguez, “Carmen Sandiego”), the ebullient 
dreamer at the heart of it all, wears sundresses 
and writes romance novels and gabs with her 
mom and abuela. The show itself is both a love 
letter to and a subversion of the telenovela, 
an ostensibly feminine form. It also boasts a 
majority-minority cast. On “Jane the Virgin,” 
Latinx persons are not merely included, they’re 
centered. And perhaps the ultimate nail in the 
awards coffin — it’s on The CW, which is more 
a running joke than it is a television network. 
If the agreed upon formula for acclaim is to 
tell a story of the angst of men and to do it on 
an angsty network for angsty men, “Jane the 
Virgin” is probably not winning anything any 
time soon.
Or at least, this is what I had resigned 

myself to thinking. But then the fifth and final 
season premiered, and you know what? This 
time, I think they can do it. Gina Rodriguez 
delivers a one-shot, seven-minute monologue so 
disarming, so stunning and so conspicuous that 
it’s inconceivable that something this good could 
just slip under the Academy’s radar. If it does go 
unnoticed? Move to Neptune, become a cord-
cutter, burn everything down, nothing matters.
The monologue in question is Jane’s loopy, 
anguished response to (big spoiler!) the 
reappearance of her presumed-dead husband, 
Michael (Brett Dier, “Bomb Girls”). Following 
his death in the 
third season, Jane 
has 
spent 
four 
years grieving and 
figuring out how 
to move on from 
tragedy with grace, 
professionally, 
personally 
and 
romantically. 
It 
seemed, 
toward 
the 
end 
of 
the 
fourth season, that 
everything 
was 
falling into place 
for 
Jane. 
She’d 
had an epic breakthrough in writing her novel. 
Her mother, Xiomara (Andrea Navedo, “Law & 
Order”), had weathered cancer. Rafael (Justin 
Baldoni, “Everwood”), the father of her son, was 
planning to propose. In hindsight, it was only 
natural that the show would throw a wrench 
into all of that. And, oh, what a wrench.
Michael has been very much alive this whole 
time, his “death” orchestrated by the nefarious 
crime lord Sin Rostro (Bridget Regan, “The 
Last Ship”). But wait, there’s more! “Jane the 
Virgin” has checked off the final telenovela 
trope box by afflicting him with amnesia; he 
has no recollection of his previous life, and most 
distressingly, no recollection of Jane. He now 
goes by Jason, calls Jane “Ma’am” in a slow, 
unaffected drawl (much to Jane’s consternation) 
and is without his once-signature sense of 
humor.
“Jane the Virgin,” as its title cheekily hints, 
has always been about labels and living within 
the confines of those labels. At different points 
in her life, we’ve seen Jane struggle with what 
it means to be a mother, a virgin, a writer, a wife 
and now a widow. The real agony of Michael’s 
return lies in the very fragile peace Jane has 
made with her life since his death. If Michael’s 
memory comes back (which seems like it will be 
the case), where will that leave Jane? Or Jane 
and Rafael? Or Jane and Michael? What the 
show’s exciting challenge will be now — one it 
will surely pull off with aplomb — is to take the 
wacky situation it has engineered and to imbue 
it with the lived-in authenticity that makes 
“Jane the Virgin” truly special.

‘Jane’ deserves an Emmy

TV REVIEW

“The Old Drift” by Namwali Serpell is based on the 
tried and true concept of a cast of seemingly unrelated 
characters that, at some point in time, encounter 
each other in varying 
degrees 
of 
intimacy. 
In spite of this lack of 
ingenuity, 
“The 
Old 
Drift” still manages to 
capture readers with its 
colorful depiction of life 
in Zambia, through the 
eyes of three different 
families spanning over a 
century of history. 
The story begins with a colonial explorer, Percy 
Clark, in Africa, stomping through the wild the way 
only a rich white man in the 1890s could do. Serpell 
uses Percy’s life as a way of establishing the cultural 
background for the story, as well as highlighting the 
racial tensions that are expected from any kind of 
conquest-minded history.
“The Old Drift” strikes a difficult balance — race is 
obviously an important part of anyone’s identity and 
often shapes characters and readers alike, but it should 
not be the defining characteristic of any one person. 
In the race for diversity, we too often see authors 
reinventing their characters as an afterthought in order 
to appeal to a “broader” audience. Yet, even though the 
consequences of race are prominent throughout “The 
Old Drift,” Serpell creates characters whose existence 
doesn’t hinge solely upon their racial struggles.
Though “The Old Drift” retains a heavily 
heteronormative group of characters, Serpell deftly 
explores a variety of family dynamics. The benefit of 

following the same three families over a vast number of 
decades is that we can see how a marriage changes and 
evolves over time: Agnes and Ronald lose their passion, 
Matha’s parents are separated by political beliefs and 
Sibilla loses sight of the Frederico she once knew. It’s 
a cynical depiction of love — each couple is plagued by 
doubts and hardships, making it some small wonder 
any of them manage 
to stay together as 
their love dwindles. As 
someone who is heavily 
invested in YA novels 
and happy endings, I 
found 
each 
couple’s 
successive downfall a 
little depressing.
That 
twinge 
of 
sadness on the edge of each story, whether a lost dream 
or broken couple, helps Serpell suspend “The Old 
Drift” in a balanced world between sci-fi and historical 
fiction. Many of the plot obstacles that arise are rooted 
in Zambia’s political turmoil of the ’70s, showcasing 
the lasting effects of dreams unfollowed. As the book 
progresses, and more characters meet each other, 
these repercussions are explored further with Serpell 
dropping hints and consequences into each storyline.
“The Old Drift” doesn’t just stay in the past, though. 
Serpell creates and explores a future that carries with 
it many familiar worries, including climate change 
(dubbed “The Change”) and excessive government 
monitoring through technology. Her tactic is 
interesting: Serpell has created a world in the early 
2020s, a not-so-distant future that still manages to 
be as foreign as if she were to set it 200 years into the 
future. It’s a world poised just on the cusp of familiarity, 
highlighting the disasters and leaders at the root of an 
apocalyptic future, leaving the reader with a trace of 
the nervous energy of what could be. 

An ‘Old Drift’ for the ages

BOOK REVIEW

EMMA CHANG
Senior Arts Editor

The Old Drift

Namwali Serpell

Hogarth

Mar. 21, 2019

Jane the Virgin

The CW

Season Premiere

Wednesdays @ 9 p.m.

Classifieds

Call: #734-418-4115
Email: dailydisplay@gmail.com

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By Jake Braun
©2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
04/01/19

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

04/01/19

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Monday, April 1, 2019

ACROSS
1 Half a fluid oz.
5 Ancient Peruvian
9 Jalopies
14 “I’m __ here!”: 
“Adios!”
15 “North by 
Northwest” actor 
Grant
16 Grownup
17 Unpredictable leg 
joint problem
19 Coffee sweetener
20 Be on the same 
page
21 Butter square
23 Old AT&T rival
24 Camera largely 
replaced by its 
digital version, for 
short
25 Beef named for 
a bone
30 Golfer’s booking
32 Diplomatic accord
33 Ancient Icelandic 
text
34 __ McMuffin
36 “The Deep” 
director Peter
37 Sally, to Charlie 
Brown
41 Poe’s one-word 
bird
44 Stars are seen 
in it
45 Bars on candy 
bars, e.g.: Abbr.
49 Disparaging 
word
52 “Let me say this 
again ... ”
54 “Love, Simon” 
co-star
56 Lawyer’s gp.
57 Inventor Whitney
58 $200 Monopoly 
props.
59 Fable writer
61 Hooves-on-
cobblestone 
sounds
64 Cry for today, 
and a hint to the 
starts of 17-, 
25-, 37- and 
54-Across
67 Lone Ranger’s 
pal
68 Con job
69 Blend by melting
70 Actress Spacek
71 Locking device
72 Went really fast

DOWN
1 How food may be 
salted
2 Broke into and 
stole from
3 Mixed with a 
spoon
4 Walk nervously 
to and fro
5 “Eww!”
6 Indian bread
7 French pancake
8 “Yes, captain”
9 Is suffering from, 
as a cold
10 College address 
suffix
11 Make larger
12 Appease
13 Bowling x’s
18 “Felicity” star 
Russell
22 Bowling pin count
26 Chatted with 
online, briefly
27 Pleads
28 Lid inflammation
29 Rip to shreds
31 Opposite of giveth
35 USO show 
audience
38 Broadcast with 
greater image 
resolution, as TV 
shows

39 Fat-free milk
40 Spare in a Brit’s 
boot
41 Turns down
42 Ill-fated 
1967 moon 
mission
43 “__ of sugar-
plums danced 
in their heads”: 
Moore
46 Green bowlful
47 Last train car

48 Attached using a 
Swingline
50 U.K.’s continent
51 Defeat decisively
53 Airline to 
Tel Aviv
55 Pet adoption org.
60 Letters before 
gees
62 Halves of qts.
63 Tofu source
65 Dorm VIPs
66 Mischief-maker

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MAITREYI ANANTHARAMAN
Daily Arts Writer

I have been through biology labs, 
physics labs, chemistry labs and several 
neuroscience labs. Who could have 
guessed that the lab to bewilder me 
the most was none other than the 
University of Michigan’s own JazzLab 
Ensemble?
This past Thursday, the JazzLab 
Ensemble 
gathered 
in 
Rackham 
Auditorium for a night of renditions of 
classic jazz pieces directed by Dennis 
Wilson. A total of 27 musicians filtered 
on and off the stage between numbers 
as the group swept between different 
genres of jazz — from the slow lyrical 
jazz of “Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me” to the 
fast-paced moving jazz of “Flight to 

Nassau.”
The conductor of JazzLab Ensemble 
was energetic and engaged throughout 
the entire show and seemed to be truly 
enjoying himself leading the student 
group. Wilson also kept the crowd 
entertained in the dead air between 
some of the pieces that involved 
shuffling of positions and musicians 
with backstories to some of the titles, 
as well as some impromptu stand-up 
comedy.
When SMTD senior Allison Taylor 
started singing, my throat became dry 
and my eyes began to water, as though 
I had tasted something unbelievably 
sweet beyond my gustatory capabilities. 
Taylor sang Wilson’s own arrangement 
of Victor Young’s “Stella by Starlight” 
that left the audience breathless.
SMTD 
student 
Ben 
Powell 

performed the other vocal piece of the 
set, “Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me,” that made 
me wonder if I was listening to Sinatra 
himself. Powell’s vocal performance 
came as somewhat of a surprise to 
those who were not familiar with the 
group, as Powell spent the first half of 
the performance tucked behind the 
piano, playing bass. Nonetheless, he 
slinked out from his perch and blew the 
crowd away, as he bellowed out notes 
that mimicked the bass he was playing 
just moments ago.
The group’s shining instruments 
matched the almost metallic tune. The 
golden pick-ups of Ian Thompson’s 
hollow-body guitar gleamed in the dim 
light of Rackham Auditorium.

The JazzLab jam session

COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW

ZACHARY M.S. WAARALA
Daily Arts Writer

Read more at 
MichiganDaily.com

Yesterday morning I was 
sitting in the dining room 
of my house, a co-op of 
20-something 
housemates 
who are always coming in 
and out. The conversations 
we have are wonderfully 
different every day. One of 
my housemates sat near me as 
I was working, and we got to 
talking about music we loved, 
and then poetry we loved, 
and then Etheridge Knight. I 
pushed my laptop across the 
table and told him to read 
“Feeling Fucked Up,” then sat 
there and tried not to seem 
too much like I was watching 
him read it, which I was.
It’s hard not to feel this way 
about any artistic work, or 
any thing, that you really like, 
and especially about Knight. 
His is the kind of work that 
doesn’t just dig under your 
skin; it starts under there, 
and it only burrows deeper, 
past the heart and to the 
spirit and the soul. Etheridge 
Knight was a major poet of 
the 20th century whose first 
two 
books, 
“Poems 
from 
Prison” and “Black Voices 
from 
Prison,” 
chronicled 
the eight years Knight spent 
incarcerated, the writing he 
produced during that time 
and the writings of his fellow 
inmates.
I’ve written columns here 
in the past about poets who 
battled systems of oppression 
and incarceration in order to 
share their feelings and ideas 
with the world, among them 
Anna Akhmatova and Nguyen 
Chí Thien. Both of these 
writers 
faced 
oppressive 
governments in their home 
countries 
(Vietnam 
and 

Russia, 
respectively), 
and 
the former emigrated to the 
United States later in his life. 
It is interesting in somewhat 
different ways to examine the 
story of Knight, whose story 
of oppression is distinctly 
and troublingly American.

Knight 
enlisted 
in 
the 
U.S. army in 1947 when he 
was only sixteen and served 
for three years as a medical 
technician in the Korean 
War. This experience left 
him 
both 
physically 
and 
psychologically traumatized, 
his trauma leading to an 
opiate addiction. A decade 
later, in 1960, Knight was 
arrested for armed robbery. 
He would spend most of the 
1960s — a socially, culturally 
and artistically pivotal time 
in America — in prison, 
before his release in 1968. 
That same year, he published 
“Poems from Prison” and 
married 
Sonia 
Sanchez, 
another major literary figure 
of the Black Arts Movement.
Knight’s 
experiences 
at 
war, his drug addiction, his 
time spent in prison — these 
were 
interlocking 
issues, 

issues that affected Knight 
all throughout his life. Yet 
what 
truly 
characterized 
his life and his work was 
his undying commitment to 
feeling and truth. He was in 
all respects a proponent of 
passion, 
whose 
persistent 
efforts to access human truth 
and spirit through language 
and poetry live on through 
his literary work and the 
effect he has had on other 
writers.
His expertise in language 
is impressive in its fluidity. 
Knight’s work is constantly 
shifting 
in 
terms 
of 
his 
approaches 
to 
form, 
structure, rhyme and other 
crucial 
poetic 
elements. 
Any avenue into his work 
might offer a different first 
impression, 
all 
more 
or 
less equally thrilling and 
captivating. 
There’s 
the 
lyricism and back-and-forth 
structure of “At a VA Hospital 
in the Middle of the United 
States of America: An Act in 
a Play,” which, like much of 
Knight’s work, carries the 
heavy implication of musical 
influence. There’s the prose-
but-not-quite 
storytelling 
of “A Fable,” and the simple, 
heart-rending 
lament 
of 
“Cell Song,” which carries 
within its four brief stanzas 
a sense of tragedy particular 
to Knight’s experience in 
prison. What Knight’s rich 
and varied array of creative 
work has in common, it shares 
with the poet himself: a 
studious and brave attention 
to the human experience, 
impossible to divorce from 
the deep natures of heart and 
soul.

LAURA 
DZUBAY

DAILY LITERATURE COLUMN

Etheridge Knight’s great
American poetry thrills

