2-News
6 — Wednesday, December 2, 2020
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
BOOK REVIEW
MUSIC REVIEW
Daily Arts on ‘Shuggie Bain’ and the Booker shortlist
Kali Uchis shines on debut Latin album ‘Sin Miedo’
WINNER: Douglas Stuart, ‘Shuggie
Bain’
“Shuggie Bain” is a novel that is quick
to overwhelm the reader with its vivid
and frequent depictions of tragedy,
though in an unsustainable fashion. The
reader immediately becomes emotionally
invested in the broken family dynamics of
alcoholic mother Agnes and her young son
Shuggie Bain. However, just as Agnes’s
processing of events is numbed by her
incessant drinking and Shuggie’s by a
childlike lack of understanding, the reader
must, too, prevent themselves from being
vulnerable and taking in the full force of
the family’s misfortunes. Stuart does not
give the reader a chance to come up for
air between each chapter’s perils, so they
have no choice but to distance themselves
from each emotionally taxing misstep that
they vicariously live through.
Perhaps if the committee selecting
the Booker Prize winner is particularly
mentally strong and willing to undergo
the struggles Agnes and Shuggie face
without shielding their eyes in the process,
they will find “Shuggie Bain” moving and
worthy of the prize. But if their reading of
the novel resembles mine, then Stuart’s
relentless
creation
of
traumatizing
obstacles for its protagonists will leave
them needing a break rather than giving
praise.
— Andrew Pluta, Daily Book Review
Editor
OUR WINNER: Diane Cook, ‘The
New Wilderness’
Diane Cook’s “The New Wilderness” is
a beautiful tale of survival, motherhood
and human nature that has a fighting
chance of winning this year’s Booker
Prize. The novel explores a dystopian
reality where the overcrowded City can
no longer sustain its inhabitants and only
a lucky few are able to escape by joining a
survival study in the Wilderness State.
Cook masterfully examines group
dynamics, mother-daughter relationships
and power struggles in her debut novel.
“The New Wilderness” feels both timely
and timeless, warning of the effects
of overcrowding and pollution while
exploring classic themes of man in nature
and the subtleties of human interaction.
For a beautifully written, well-researched
and utterly engrossing novel, author Diane
Cook deserves the 2020 Booker Prize.
— Emma Doettling, Daily Arts Writer
Tsitsi
Dangarembga,
‘This
Mournable Body’
Seen as a staple author in contemporary
literature, Tsitsi Dangarembga is widely
known for her 1988 novel “Nervous
Conditions.” The novel functions as
the first installment in the trilogy that
“This Mournable Body,” this year’s
2020 nominee, bookends. To say that
Dangarembga is an unskilled writer or
undeserving of celebration would be in
bad faith — the writer-activist has written
groundbreaking works and was recently
arrested while bravely protesting against
Zimbabwe’s autocratic crack-down.
Admittedly, I read this book as a
standalone from the remainder of the
trilogy (as it was nominated for the Booker
Prize). Still, “This Mournable Body”
feels immensely weak against the rest of
Dangarembga’s profile.
Centered on the character of previous
novels, Tambudzai, “This Mournable
Body” dissects issues of war trauma,
gender and a feeling of hopelessness that
pervades both the novel’s characters
and setting. Yet, the writing of the novel
feels both probable and uninspiring.
Dangarembga flits nonchalantly through
imprecise metaphors (of hyenas, vines)
and disposable characters, wrapping the
book in a sense of confusion. Moments of
tangible action, which should lock down
readers’ attention for at least a page, feel
distantly abstract. Even the moments that
reveal the greatness of Dangarembga’s
intentions — the profundity of her message
that is most visible when one recounts the
novel’s plot as a whole — feel diluted. Easy
to speed read, “This Mournable Body”
is a nominee that seems too safe and too
unremarkable for the 2020 Booker Prize.
— John Decker, Managing Arts Editor
Maaza Mengiste, ‘The Shadow King’
We at the Daily have placed our bets
behind Mengiste’s newest novel, “The
Shadow King’” to win this year’s Booker
Prize. Covering a lightly fictionalized
Second Italo-Ethiopian War, Mengiste
documents
Mussolini’s
invasion
of
Ethiopia and the people’s resistance. She
includes multiple perspectives, creating
a decadent, layered story about violence,
women and wartime.
Mengiste pulls heavily from Greek
storytelling influences, even including
a Greek chorus in her tale of epic fights.
She effectively rebrands and reframes
a 1930s conflict into a Homeric myth,
complete with capricious higher powers,
irresponsible kings and fighting women.
Usually, World War II-adjacent literature
and media focus on the grittiness of
war, the trenches, and the broken men.
Mengiste takes a different approach to
make the war feel real. She dulls the
everyday traumas, mythologizing to make
the novel read like a bad memory. Though
softened by time, the war is still a jagged
edge: painful, sharp and traumatic.
Mengiste’s
technical
skill
and
reinvention of the war genre make her
a favorite to win. Her lyrical prose and
consistent storytelling leave nothing to
be desired, fortifying her already lofty
chances of becoming the 2020 Booker
Prize Winner.
— Elizabeth Yoon, Daily Arts Writer
Avni Doshi, ‘Burnt Sugar’
“Burnt Sugar” is unlike anything I’ve
read before. Shortlisted for the 2020
Booker Prize, debut author Avni Doshi
unpacks
a
volatile
mother-daughter
relationship that often does more harm
than good. It’s a story that exposes our
ugly emotions — our biases and flaws —
and the threads of love that still persist
in our tangled network of relationships.
The novel lives and breathes its setting
— Pune, India — and gives unfamiliar
readers a new perspective on the bustling
subcontinent. “Burnt Sugar” is a fantastic,
quick and captivating read for anyone, but
especially for those of Indian heritage.
Will “Burnt Sugar” win the 2020
Booker Prize? Unlikely. Does it deserve
to? I think so, but as the daughter of
Indian immigrants, I’m biased. The novel
is unique in its piercing and unapologetic
words. It makes us confront and pick
apart our own relationships until we’re
unsettled by our dependency on others.
Yet, accessibility to Indian culture is a
roadblock that could cost the novel a
shot at the prize. Read “Burnt Sugar” for
the thrill, but don’t expect it to shock the
world.
— Trina Pal, Daily Arts Writer
Brandon Taylor, ‘Real Life’
“Real Life” is a fascinating character
study that dissects trauma as it relates
to race, sexuality and mental health.
We follow Wallace, a Black, queer PhD
candidate at a predominately white
university, as he navigates a number
of difficult social situations that force
him to confront his own neuroses. The
incredibly rich narration Taylor presents
through Wallace makes the novel’s slow
pacing more than worthwhile. Wallace’s
psychological development is allowed to
unfold naturally; Taylor’s guiding hand
is nearly invisible for the entirety of the
novel, letting Wallace’s character speak
for itself. This book’s likelihood of winning
depends on the selection committee’s
priorities. If they seek an experimental,
groundbreaking story this year, “Real
Life” won’t fit the bill. No narrative
technique or device in this novel will blow
readers away. However, what the novel
does within its scope, it does extremely
well. Taylor is modest in his aims, but
greatly exceeds expectations, creating a
gut-wrenching story that would certainly
make for a fantastic Booker Prize winner.
— Sejjad Alkhalby, Daily Arts Writer
THE LONGLIST
Gabriel Krauze, ‘Who They Was’
In the realm of Booker Prize nominees,
“Who They Was” is like the scrappy, rag-
tag small town team that somehow made
it to the Regional Championship. You just
want it to win, even if the odds are stacked
against it.
The novel is rough around the edges —
it does not fool the reader into accepting
a tidy story tied up with a bow. This is a
work of honesty more than it is a work
of mastery, but Gabriel Krauze offers up
skillfully layered narration and emotional
depth rarely seen in a debut novel.
An unrelenting work of autofiction,
“Who They Was” grips the reader in its
tone of fragile apathy towards a violent
way of life. The story is narrated by
Snoopz, a young man living a dual life as
a criminal and a university student — torn
between two opposing paths.
Krauze compares each person’s life
to a gigantic column, “you can’t ever see
all the way around it in one go, so people
only ever get to see the side that’s in their
immediate view.” Yet this novel somehow
captures every side of life all at once — we
can’t wait to see what Krauze does next.
— Julian Wray, Daily Arts Writer
Hillary Mantel, ‘The Mirror and The
Light’
Hilary Mantel, two-time winner of
the Booker Prize, brings her critically
acclaimed Wolf Hall series to an end that’s
almost as decisive as the execution that
kicks off the final installment of the series.
“The Mirror and the Light,” more than
anything, is the culmination of an 11-year
character study of Thomas Cromwell, one
of the closest confidantes of Henry VIII, a
king best known for his six marriages that
sparked the English Reformation. The
novel covers Cromwell’s final years, before
he was beheaded in 1540 for spurious
charges of treason against the king.
Though “The Mirror” is the third book
in Mantel’s series, the strength of its well-
developed and fleshed out characters help
this novel stand on its own. Cromwell’s
hopes and fears are palpable, as Mantel’s
focus constantly circles back around to
the litany of enemies he’s made on his
climb to the top. The resulting profound
sense of unease not only unseats the
reader, it also plunges them deeper into
the experience. Mantel capitalizes on
the dread that the knowledge of history
brings, and spends the novel building this
tension up. She weaponizes the stress
resulting from waiting for the other shoe
to drop, and peppers the experience with
heartfelt moments between the reader
and Cromwell, endearing him further
before his untimely death. Though “The
Mirror and the Light” may not have made
the shortlist for the Booker Prize this year,
the legacy of Mantel’s Cromwell trilogy
will certainly remain.
— Tate Lafrenier, Daily Arts Writer
Colum McCann, ‘Apeirogon’
“Apeirogon”’ by Colum McCann is a
literary feat of storytelling. Its story, based
on the true tale of an Israeli father and a
Palestinian father, both of whom violently
lose their daughters, sneaks up on you.
Very little of the novel is chronological
narration; instead, McCann offers the
reader
small
pieces
of
information
until the picture is complete, and then
he continues to fill it in. His masterful
prose is poetic in style and flexible for
the innovative format of the book — over
one thousand “chapters,” most less than
one page long. He combines meticulous
research with lyrical language in a way
that seeps every page in raw emotion — a
difficult task for a book that is over 450
pages. McCann does not shy away from
the length, or the distinctive storytelling
style; instead, he embraces it. He uses
the freedom that his chosen format
gives him to tell a story in a new way,
not chronologically, but emotionally. He
reconstructs the experience of grief and
mirrors the emotions of the fathers, by
telling the story in such a scattershot way.
Deeply moving, emotionally exhausting
and literarily accomplished, “Apeirogon”
captures the soul of its characters within
its pages — and perhaps within the heart
of the reader, as well.
— Emilia Ferrante, Daily Arts Writer
Kiley Reid, ‘Such a Fun Age’
Kiley Reid’s debut novel “Such a Fun
Age” is predictably included on the
2020 Booker Prize longlist. It received
almost immediate recognition upon its
publication — a trend that hasn’t faltered
yet.
“Such a Fun Age” explores the
transactional
relationship
between
a white blogger, Alix, and her Black
babysitter, Emira. The book opens with
a family emergency that prompts Alix to
call for Emira’s service late one night and
ends with a security guard accusing Emira
of kidnapping Alix’s daughter. The effects
of this incident stir different anxieties
in both the women as well as larger
discussions of race, privilege and class.
Despite Reid’s ability to genuinely
portray the broken systems that drive the
character’s actions, while simultaneously
challenging the reader’s own biases, the
story is undermined by the emotional
distance perpetrated by the overlapping
narratives and artificial dialogue. These
imperfections slow the pace of the novel
and emphasize its abrupt ending. The
novel provokes significant discussion, but
its issues of progression keep it from being
Booker Prize quality.
— Lilly Pearce, Daily Arts Writer
DAILY BOOK REVIEW
Daily Arts Writers
THE BOOKER PRIZE COMMITTEE
Kali Uchis wants you to know that
a language barrier doesn’t prevent you
from enjoying her music.
Earlier this month, the 26-year-
old
Colombian
American
singer
released her first Spanish-language
album, Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros
Demonios). Though highly anticipated
by the majority of her fanbase,
some English-speaking fans voiced
their apprehension for the project
— they felt it would fail to remain
relatable and personally meaningful
in a different language. Seemingly
in response to these concerns, Uchis
tweeted with the release of single “la
luz” in October, “today i drop another
song in spanish which i know means
another day of disappointment for my
english speaking fans who do not wish
to make the attempt to listen to music
in languages they can’t understand.”
Despite the R&B princess’ unabashed
celebration of Latin language and
culture on prior projects like Por Vida
(2015) and Isolation (2018), many of her
American listeners are still resistant
to
embracing
foreign-language
music. It represents a larger issue in
our industry, which though steadily
diversifying, has only just warmed
up to breakout multilingual acts like
Puerto Rican rapper Bad Bunny and
Korean boy band BTS. On Sin Miedo,
Uchis reminds us that good music
transcends these bounds of language.
Known for her sultry California-
glam aesthetic, Uchis’ lush vocals feel
right at home on her latest project. Yet
opener “la luna enamorada” may be
surprising to some fans, both for Uchis’
uncharacteristically
deep
register
and the song’s bolero-style structure.
Bolero, a type of slow-tempo music
first popularized in 19th century Cuba,
is just one of many different Latin
genres that make an appearance on the
album. “la luna enamorada” sets the
tone for the rest of the project, as Uchis
presents the listener with a microcosm
of modern Latin music, incorporating
everything from reggaetón to bachata
into the soulful R&B pop that made
Uchis famous.
With the project’s release in mid-
November, Uchis tweeted, “this album
is full of so many genres that made my
childhood & i am very proud of its range
of emotions & nostalgia. i hope it brings
you any bit of the joy it has brought
me.” Growing up in both Alexandria,
Virginia and Pereira, Colombia, Uchis
has fully embraced her multicultural
upbringing
on
Sin
Miedo,
citing
influences like Panamanian reggaetón
group La Factoría and Cuban bolero
singer La Lupe.
Her
ability
to
master
both
traditional Latin sounds and newly
developing ones is further testament to
Uchis’ artistic growth since Isolation.
She gives us a velvety cover of “Que
te pedí,” La Lupe’s most famous work
from the 1960s, while also infusing
elements of neoperreo, a burgeoning
experimental subsect of reggaetón, on
tracks like “la luz(Fín)” and “te pongo
mal(prendalo).” Uchis’ roots in pop
and R&B are not lost on Sin Miedo
either, with infectiously fun synth
ballads “telepatía” and “aguardiente y
limón” and the luxuriously seductive
“vaya con dios.” It’s evident that Uchis
is becoming a savant of a variety
of different sounds, all the while
developing a self-assured voice absent
on earlier works like Por Vida.
On the track “¡aquí yo mando!”
Uchis makes her inviolable confidence
known with the help of a bilingual
feature from rapper Rico Nasty. Uchis
declares on the song’s chorus, “Mando,
aquí yo mando, si quieres conmigo
vete acostumbrando,” translating in
English to, “I command, here I call the
shots, if you want to be with me get used
to it.” Gone are the “Loner”-era days of
solitude and introversion in love. On
Sin Miedo, Uchis now demands respect
not only in her relationships but in the
ranks of American R&B stardom. Even
Uchis’ vocal range has flourished since
her last project, with soul-clenching
contraltos on “la luna enamorada” and
shimmering high notes on tracks like
“vaya con dios.” Uchis invites you to
kindly refrain from putting her in any
type of box, a clear departure from
earlier days of consistently marketable
mainstream hits.
In honor of Uchis truly owning her
sound on Sin Miedo, its production
presents a refreshing switch-up from
her previous works. Puerto Rican
producer Tainy, who’s churned out
mega hits for Latin talents like J
Balvin and Daddy Yankee, shines
through on the record (in major
contrast to the industry heavy-hitters
that have collected production credits
on Por Vida and Isolation). In much
of Uchis’ older music, underlying
influences from collaborators like
Tyler the Creator and Kevin Parker
have peeked through and, at times,
drowned out her own voice. Yet on her
latest release, Uchis has fully taken
the reins, refusing to bend to the will
of what popular American culture is
comfortable with. While Sin Miedo
places less emphasis on storytelling
and vulnerable lyricism than Isolation,
it remains a deeply personal work
by embracing the elements of Uchis’
sonically diverse adolescence.
Sin Miedo is by all accounts a
success for Uchis, widening her career
trajectory and proving that the artist is
able to charm listeners in both English
and Spanish. Never does Uchis dilute
her Latin roots in an effort to appeal to
American audiences, instead injecting
these cultural foundations with the
ethereal candy-colored elegance that
earned her popularity in the first
place. Whether you’re fluent or relying
on Google Translate to understand
Uchis’ words, Sin Miedo reminds us
that in expanding our musical palettes
to include multilingual works, we are
opened up to a whole new world of
beautiful art.
Daily Arts Writer Nora Lewis can be
reached at noralew@umich.edu
NORA LEWIS
Daily Arts Writer
Her ability to master
both traditional Latin
sounds and newly
developing ones is
further testament to
Uchis’ artistic growth