Review of AN ISLAND by Karen Jennings

 4 Stars

I came across this title on the 2021 Booker Prize longlist.  It’s a short novel but packs a punch.

The protagonist is Samuel, a septuagenarian who has spent the last 23 years as a lighthouse keeper on an island of an unnamed African country.  Though bodies have washed up on shore in the past, one day a survivor arrives.  Because of the language barrier, Samuel and the man can communicate only through facial expressions and gestures, so he knows nothing about his visitor.  When the man begs not to be removed by the supply boat that comes every two weeks, Samuel begins to wonder whether the man is a refugee or a fugitive.  Samuel often retreats to memories of his traumatic past and these, along with his years of isolation, make him fearful and distrustful so he tends to interpret the man’s actions as threatening. 

Though the duration of the novel is a short four days, it actually covers most of Samuel’s life against the backdrop of the country’s turbulent history.  The country experienced colonial rule, political independence, and a military dictatorship.  Samuel was affected by all of this political history:  because of colonialism, his family was forcibly removed from their home; because of his involvement in the independence movement, Samuel’s father was disabled; and because of his role in an uprising against the dictator, Samuel served a 23-year prison term.  There is no doubt that his experiences have shaped him. 

Only in his years as a lighthouse keeper has Samuel found peace.  After his years in prison, he was unable to adjust to life in the outside world: “Freedom came to Samuel as something he feared.”  The island with its solitude has been his haven.  He resents that solitude being disturbed when the man washes up on shore and initially hopes the man will just die.  Having lost his home more than once in the past, he is terrified that the man will take the island from him:  “The island.  The island.  The island belonged to Samuel.  It was his and his alone.” 

The novel is narrated in third person limited omniscient point of view.  We see things only from Samuel’s perspective, so we too know nothing about the man, and this creates suspense.  Is Samuel in danger?  We see how memories of being helped by others influence him to have some sympathy for the man, and we also see how past humiliations and his anger and guilt over his cowardice haunt him. 

Samuel is an Everyman.  He is not exceptional in any way:  he is not educated or wealthy, and he has not behaved heroically.  Violence has dominated his life; sometimes he has been the victim; sometimes, a witness; and sometimes, the perpetrator.  So the book shows the effects of political events on the ordinary person.  Certainly, Samuel’s behaviour is totally understandable given his traumatic past. 

It is suggested that the history of Samuel’s country is typical of that of most African countries:  colonialism, revolution, failed self-governance, military dictatorship, uprisings, and fragile parliamentary democracy fraught with corruption scandals, perhaps because of foreign investments.  No country is named but readers can surely identify African countries with similar political histories.  Samuel’s neighbours in the slum disagreed with Samuel’s father that independence would solve the country’s problems; having fled because of a post-independence civil war, they argued, “’It was like this for us too . . . We were exactly like you. . . . You will see.’” 

Xenophobia, racism, and the plight of the displaced are examined.  Samuel’s family is forced off their land; the arable land becomes the property of the colonists while those evicted are told, “’You are to return to the mountains where monkeys belong.’”  The family ends up living in a city’s slums where their neighbours are also displaced, a couple who fled their own country’s civil war.  Years later, to gain popularity with the masses, a general proclaims, “’Why are we still sharing our country with foreigners . . . Let them go back to their own homes . . . We don’t want them here, taking from us, stealing what we fought so hard for.  This country is ours, no one else has a right to claim it.  No one else has a right to be here.  This country is ours alone, only ours.’”  This general instigates a “’culling’” of foreigners like Samuel’s neighbours. 

Even later, not much has changed.  When Samuel reports bodies washing up on the island, he is asked, “’What colour are they?  . . . Are they darker than you or me?  . . . We cannot come out to the island every time another country’s refugees flee and drown.  It’s not our problem.’”  And the man who comes with provisions for Samuel, says, “’They deserve it, don’t they?  . . . Anyone stupid enough to pack themselves in a rotting boat like that and try to enter another country illegally is asking to die.’”

Though short, this novel is thought-provoking.  The legacy of colonialism, xenophobia, the migrant crisis, the long-lasting effects of violence, and even climate change are examined.  Be forewarned:  there is little optimism.