She Would Be King
Though her mother delayed as much as she could, Gbessa is born on the day that Ol’ Ma Nyanpoo’s house collapses upon and kills her because she had beaten to death a cat, considered sacred by the residents of the West African village of Lai. Gbessa consequently is cursed by town elders.
June Dey stands against the master and others from the Emerson plantation in Virginia after his mother is killed, his body withstanding fusillades of rifle fire. But he is not dead; he is just born. Eighteen-year-old Callum Aragon inherits from his mother, a Maroon slave from Jamaica, the ability to vanish from sight at will. He hides in the forest, often blending with the earth, after his mother dies and his British father’s house is burned to the ground.
The three travel to and meet in Monrovia, before the nation of Liberia is founded. Together, they make use of their abilities as former slaves and other African Americans work with and sometimes against indigenous tribes to create a homeland.
She Would Be King combines history and magical realism to confront and untangle reality and find the mystical that lies beneath. The language is lyrical, allowing readers to hear snippets of music as they read. The narrative is sometimes jarring, especially to a reader like me. A long-time journalist, I seek and relish facts, their logical progression, and their consequences. But I was reminded recently of a review by Chicago Sun-Times movie critic Roger Ebert. “With so much beauty and action,” he wrote of one movie, “who needs logic?” Indeed.
