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A review by seebrandyread
Here Comes the Sun by Nicole Dennis-Benn
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
Here Comes the Sun is brutal and unflinching in its portrayal of Margot, Thandi, and Delores, two daughters and their mother, who are willing to go to any lengths for survival. As capitalism and colonialism encroach on their home in Jamaica and infiltrate their lives, each finds that the cost of survival, let alone success, may come at a higher price than they'd bargained for.
Though Thandi and Margot are sisters, their age gap makes them more like mother and daughter. Margot and Delores work hard to make sure Thandi receives an education in order to transcend their poor community, but their sacrifices come with strings. We eventually learn about different traumas inflicted on Delores by her mother and their society's expectations of women who passes them down to Margot. Try as they might to keep their own sexual exploitation and deficits of love away from Thandi, they eventually trickle down to her. As the saying goes, how can you love someone else if you can't love yourself?
Pressure comes in the form of sexism, classism, and colorism. Women bleach their skin after seeing the disdain with which those with darker skin are treated. Delores becomes a cautionary tale of how hateful the heart grows when one needs to find others to look down on in order to feel better about herself. Each woman is used at some point for her body, but only Margot is able to gain a modicum of control over hers. Dennis-Benn demonstrates time and time again the double standard of men being allowed to rape, beat, and molest women, but women should remain chaste.
The dark veins of capitalism and its ties to colonialism run throughout each woman's story. Delores is willing to give up innocent people, including her own child, for money. Margot is not much different, but she has convinced herself that the people she uses have a choice or that cash trumps morals. Even their love for Thandi is transactional because they expect to be repaid in some way once she's become a successful doctor or lawyer. The hotel Margot works for threatens to tear down the very neighborhood where they live.
The novel offers some hope for breaking abusive cycles as Margot escapes Delores and Thandi performs what at least seems to be a mostly selfless act. But it also poses a more frightening picture. What if success, or at least avoiding destitution, requires the partial death of the soul? Isn't that kind of the gist of living in a capitalistic society, after all?
Though Thandi and Margot are sisters, their age gap makes them more like mother and daughter. Margot and Delores work hard to make sure Thandi receives an education in order to transcend their poor community, but their sacrifices come with strings. We eventually learn about different traumas inflicted on Delores by her mother and their society's expectations of women who passes them down to Margot. Try as they might to keep their own sexual exploitation and deficits of love away from Thandi, they eventually trickle down to her. As the saying goes, how can you love someone else if you can't love yourself?
Pressure comes in the form of sexism, classism, and colorism. Women bleach their skin after seeing the disdain with which those with darker skin are treated. Delores becomes a cautionary tale of how hateful the heart grows when one needs to find others to look down on in order to feel better about herself. Each woman is used at some point for her body, but only Margot is able to gain a modicum of control over hers. Dennis-Benn demonstrates time and time again the double standard of men being allowed to rape, beat, and molest women, but women should remain chaste.
The dark veins of capitalism and its ties to colonialism run throughout each woman's story. Delores is willing to give up innocent people, including her own child, for money. Margot is not much different, but she has convinced herself that the people she uses have a choice or that cash trumps morals. Even their love for Thandi is transactional because they expect to be repaid in some way once she's become a successful doctor or lawyer. The hotel Margot works for threatens to tear down the very neighborhood where they live.
The novel offers some hope for breaking abusive cycles as Margot escapes Delores and Thandi performs what at least seems to be a mostly selfless act. But it also poses a more frightening picture. What if success, or at least avoiding destitution, requires the partial death of the soul? Isn't that kind of the gist of living in a capitalistic society, after all?