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