Book Review: “Spill Ink On It” by jennifer jazz
A racial reckoning. That too is what has been happening in 2020. And, for proof, we need only consult the ultimate arbiter of all things up-to-the-minute with — yes, you guessed it — Google. At last count, there’s been some four million references to a “racial reckoning” by news outlets and blogs for this year alone.
But that sentiment is hardly new. Back in 1924, the Jamaican-born Pan African leader Marcus Garvey raised the prospect of a “final reckoning” in an essay for his weekly newspaper, The Negro World. Still, even the most cynical of observers can concede that so much overlooked history is finally being revisited, revealed, and rescued of late.
Take the well-traversed terrain of 1970s and ‘80s-era New York, for example. The stream of books, films and docs about this period are almost long enough to keep pace with the 12-inch mixes of yesteryear’s pulsating rhythms.
But with Spill Ink On It, writer jennifer jazz retraces those manic days through a completely different lens — namely, that of a Black woman whose vagabond-like existence propelled her headfirst into the bold, vibrant, edgy and chaotic streets of Manhattan’s Lower East Side.
At every turn, Spill Ink On It uncloaks many hidden realities. In reflecting on her upbringing, jazz offers a fresh glimpse into the distinct dynamics of a Caribbean household in New York — a granny here and aunties there, all pooling their dollars through “susu” to fight for another day — along with meditations on the ebb and flow of such communities.
As a Bronx native of Antiguan descent, jazz has a musician-father whose emotions don’t extend much beyond the drums and a restless mother, who constantly veers between Mama Bear impulses and a specialized brand of benign neglect. Yet it’s those opaque familial lines that served as a training ground — in having to gauge motivations and negotiate ambiguous terms and conditions on the fly — for jazz to eventually face the formidable challenge of big city livin.’
Less of a by-the-books memoir and more of a coming-to-terms-with-it tome, Spill Ink On It eschews revisionist history. But, as her narrative shows, amid all of the broken glass and dreams deferred, there were still plenty of laughs, love, dancing and redemption to be had. Warts and all, jazz questions her assumptions, her experiences and even herself while also bringing keen insight to the many socioeconomic upheavals with a view from the ground.
Spill Ink On It marks jazz’s literary debut. She approaches themes of race, class, sex and music with hauntingly vivid prose:
“….but morning’s an epidemic, a morgue, a fortune-teller — a phantom, a microscope, a broom like Washington Square Park, where I like to sit by myself in the wee hours, coming down from the usual hallucinogens…”
And sharply-crafted witticisms:
“Nothing’s worse than getting stuck in a conversation with someone who mistakes having a great memory for thinking.”
But jazz keeps her allure. People come, people go. And most of those inside her eclectic circle carry the clever nicknames that she doled out back in the day. One notable exception, though, is the artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. And true to form, she writes of him not with any starry-eyed reverence, but with a candid, clear-eyed assessment that keeps his humanity at the center.
That sentiment also transfers over to jazz herself. And so, one can’t help but to root for this new wave gyal, even as her life zigzags to head-spinning degrees, from landing gigs at The New York Review of Books and drumming with an all-girls rock band to peddling dime bags of weed along Christopher Street.
Even when jazz ventures beyond New York, like her journey to the U.K., the spotlight also turns to those who had been relegated to the margins — namely, alienated, young Black Brits in Birmingham, whose discontent with racism during the Thatcher-era was gathering steam and largely ignored, before erupting during a three-day disturbance in July 1981.
Ultimately, this is the story of dem yout and dem. And they’re finally appearing closer to us in the rearview mirror. But that’s the thing about jazz. Sometimes you can only truly get it on the second take.
Spill Ink On It is published by Spuyten Duyvil Publishing. It’s out now and is available via Barnes & Noble and Amazon.
