Womxn of unheard voices and unsung praises are at the heart of Bernardine Evaristo’s 2019 Booker Prize-winning novel ‘Girl, Woman, Other’. It is a book that puts presence back into absence. Within these pages are, not one but twelve black British womxn, all scripting their own individual stories within Evaristo’s master narrative. It is a joyful counterpoint to the near invisibility of womxn of colour in literary productions—both as authors and as their fictional creations.
“We the women
Whose praises go unsung
Whose voices go unheard…”
—Grace Nichols, I Is a Long Memoried Woman (1983)
Evaristo’s protagonists are a diverse bunch, full of contradictions. Questions of Identity, otherness and togetherness define their stories. But identity and otherness are not fixed but layered and contested categories. And in this fluidity, lies the possibility of togetherness. The womxn who inhabit its pages seem to say, ‘Here we are, as inspiring and flawed and heterogenous as everyone else, and our bonds are stronger and our stories more fascinating because of it’.
The Hyphenated Identities
In the twelve chapters of Girl, Woman, Other’, each of which revolves around one protagonist, female identity is a truly intersectional experience. Coming from a feminist and a trans-aware perspective, Evaristo complicates the experience of womxnhood as she throws class, ethnicity, age, sexuality, trans identities and disability into the mix. As if to underscore this slipperiness, she introduces her characters in hyphens. Amma is a socialist-polyamorous lesbian-playwright; Megan/Morgan is a trans-non-binary-high school dropout-socia media influencer; Dominique is a lesbian feminist-domestic abuse survivor-transexclusionary-music festival producer. Their hyphenated identities present them to us as complex, flawed and messy beings, each with their own distinct voice. Some are homophobic, some are feminists, some decry feminism, some don’t know what feminism is.
Their hyphenated identities present them to us as complex, flawed and messy beings, each with their own distinct voice. Some are homophobic, some are feminists, some decry feminism, some don’t know what feminism is.
Hyphenated identities also complicate our understanding of who is the ‘other’. While as black womxn, they all occupy that category to some extent, the ascription of otherness is also constantly shifting. As a non-binary trans person, Megan/Morgan spends their early life feeling othered till they discover their own individual identity and community. For them, acceptance comes from the least expected places. Born to Nigerian immigrant parents from a working class background, Carole spends her entire life trying to fit in. She feels “crushed, worthless and a nobody” at Oxford, and later, in the white male planet of investment banking.
At the same time, she feels misunderstood by her immigrant mother, Bummi, who fears that Carole’s success is a rejection of her “true culture”. Bummi gives Carole an English name, knowing that a Nigerian name will hold her back. But when Carole does get on, a gulf opens up between them. Otherness is also projected from one body to another. As an adopted child and the only womxn in an all-male teachers’ room, Penelope displaces her own sense of otherness on to the new young black teacher Shirley.
The Other
Often, the feeling of being the ‘other’ leads to big and small betrayals and fallouts between friends and lovers, mothers and daughters, and mentors and students. But they also bring with them the possibility of togetherness. There is something unconditional about these relationships. The womxn get past tensions and conflicts to forgive and support each other. When differences seem insurmountable and reconciliation impossible, the storyline gently nudges the protagonists—and by extension the reader—towards a position of empathy. In a symbolic final act, the protagonists converge and interact at Amma’s after-party on the opening night of her play. Not all of them know each other. They variously love, hate, or are indifferent to each other. They are there to support and cheer Amma, or to simply watch the play, write a review, and socialise. At any rate, in those moments, these motley characters find a reason to come together.
