by Susan Mains
At the invitation of Chris DeRiggs, writer and director of The Camerhogne Boat, I had the privilege of attending one of the final rehearsals before the play heads off to Barbados to perform at Carifesta XV.
And privilege it was.
I knew that DeRiggs had written this play in 1995, and I was aware when it was performed, but I just couldn’t remember if I had gone to see it. I knew that it was written as a metaphor for some of the most turbulent years of Grenada’s history, from Independence onward. If I had gone to see it, it hit me differently 30 years later. This was a condensed version, because there is a one-hour time limit for the production in Barbados. I think that distillation of the message made it strong and to the point.
The actors’ given names, like Chantuelle and Shortknee, alluded to our traditional folk characters and mas players during carnival. They were immediately recognisable. The story started out sweet and simple, with characters taking a boat ride to a new land. The Caribbean rhythms of acoustic guitar and drums were familiar and lulled us into the belief that we had seen this before, and we knew where it was going.
Big deception.
Nothing was simple about this story. The complexity of Grenada’s history ramped up with the appearance of a “white woman,” the La Diablesse, dancing onto the stage in style and seduction to lure away the youth. In true Glissantian magical realism, characters like a running rabbit and the ringmaster gave advice to the sleeping captain. Absurdity made believable. Through hardship, unbelief, conversion, and recovery, the ship sailed on to New Horizon in the distance. Great celebration that they had all survived the tumultuous journey, but it was not clearly articulated as to whether they ever really arrived.
30 years later, I asked DeRiggs if he had to write that same play now, would we have reached New Horizons? Meditatively, he shook his head to the negative. Some discussion later, we decided that perhaps we are stuck in the sargassum.
One of the cast members who is enjoying a surge of recognition for his recent carnival tunes is Kevin Bullen. His words were “I feel like a callaloo leaf in the rain.” If you have never seen rain running off a callaloo leaf in beads like mercury, the meaning might miss you. Bullen intuitively expressed the resilience of Grenada’s people. Trouble may come, but we let it run off.
It is my great hope that after Carifesta XV in Barbados is over and the players all come home, this play can be staged once again for our local audience. We all deserve a ride on The Camerhogne Boat.
The creative arts, without being given full credit for what they bring to a society, have once again become our philosophers, historians, and griots of our times. We can be proud of this play representing Grenada to the region and the world.
Led by Chief Cultural Officer Kelvin Jacob and Susan Jones-Benjamin, the 40-plus-member team leaves on Tuesday to proudly wave Grenada’s flag in theatre, visual art, culinary, film, fashion, and goods manufactured here.
