Leone Ross

An uproarious, sensual novel, Leone Ross's Popisho conjures a world where magic is everywhere, food is fate, politics are broken, and love awaits. Everyone in Popisho was born...with a little something...The local name for it was cors. Magic, but more than magic. A gift, nah? Yes. From the gods: a thing that felt so inexpressibly your own. Somewhere far away—or maybe right nearby—lies an archipelago called Popisho. A place of stunning beauty and incorrigible mischief, destiny and mystery, it is also a place in need of change. Xavier Redchoose is the macaenus of his generation, anointed by the gods to make each resident one perfect meal when the time is right. Anise, his long lost love, is on a march toward reckoning with her healing powers. The governor’s daughter, Sonteine, is getting married, her father demanding a feast out of turn. And graffiti messages from an unknown source are asking hard questions. A storm is brewing. Before it comes, before the end of the day, this wildly imaginative narrative will take us across the islands, their history, and into the lives of unforgettable characters. Popisho is a masterful delight: a playful love story, a portrait of community, a boldly sensual meditation on desire and addiction, and a critique of the legacies of corruption and colonialism. Inspired by the author's Jamaican homeland, inflected with rhythms and textures of an amalgam of languages, it is a dazzling, major work of fiction, in conversation with the likes of Gabriel García Márquez, Toni Morrison, and Arundhati Roy.

A Novel

Popisho

Bethany Jenkins

He could hear the exact moment an argument frayed, when it became about feelings, still pretending to be facts.

She wouldn't be attending any of Governor Intiasar's propaganda today; he was just trying to sweet-up poor people and get them to vote, and more's the pity they couldn't see that.

He kissed her over and over, not knowing what else to do, trying to bring back their good and trusting feelings, but her heart shards stuck through her chest and cut him.

Governor Intiasar and Leo Brenteninton had painted their factories white, blue, even tongue-pink over the years, before this green monstrosity, intended to blend back into the Dukuyaie hills. None of the colours worked; the factories still invaded the skyline, distracting you on your way to work or school or sea.

“You never know. People is a complicated something. So is art.” He spoke with the confidence of the young, who thought everything they said was new.

Popisho quotes

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