Foreword
What does it mean for a book to be recognized as a “classic” and incorporated into the Library of Wales series of classics commissioned and funded by the Welsh Government? Why do I pose this question instead of taking for granted the common-sense definitions of “classic” such as: “of acknowledged excellence or importance;” “A work of literature, music, or art of …enduring significance;” “an outstanding example of its kind.”Sugar and Slateis a work of excellence but itsenduringsignificance exceeds conventional judgments of worth in ways that make the work uniquely compelling, fascinating, and important. Classic is an evaluation and mark of recognition granted from the perspective of a status quo, in this case an institution representing the national values and interests of Wales; works endorsed as outstanding are regarded as exceptional in their power to epitomise, sustain and perpetuate the values of this status quo.Sugar and Slate, however, is an insurgent text, it does not seek to embody or affirm common sense or convention but passionately, powerfully and profoundly reveals and transcends the limitations of our measures of Wales and Welshness. Charlotte Williams expands the imaginative possibilities of what it means to be a Welsh “classic”.
The first edition ofSugar and Slatewas published in the UK in 2002 and reprinted five times in the next four years. I live and work in the USA and was not immediately aware of the book. There is no North American publication but many university libraries own either the British or Jamaican edition. Alas, my own institution, Yale, is an exception so the first copy ofSugar and SlateI read came into my hands via interlibrary loan. It pierced my heart in the opening paragraphs. Both Charlotte Williams and I are the offspring of white Welsh mothers and black fathers from the Caribbean: Guyana in Williams’s case, Jamaica in mine. As a child I too had to carry the burdens Williams so vividly and poignantly describes: having to constantly explain where she was from; dreading the constant, awkward reminders “of what I was or what I wasn’t.” The young Charlotte and I were both defined as insubstantial beings, “mixed” or “half-caste,” forms of non-belonging. We were consigned to what Williams beautifully conjures as “a realm of some kind of half people, doomed to roam the endless road to elsewhere looking for somewhere called roots.” By the second page I knew I needed my own copy ofSugar and Slate, one that I could annotate. Through scribbles in the margins, I wished to stage an imaginary conversation with a writer I had never met and didn’t know if I would ever meet but with whom I felt an affinity. I was able to purchase a British edition from a black bookstore in Decatur, Georgia, evidence of who were the earliest readers ofSugar and Slatein the US.
Despite the existence of shared aspects of our racialized and racist experiences of what I felt was a stubborn Welsh parochialism, two distinct cultural and historical geographies of Wales shaped and influenced us. Charlotte’s mother spoke fluent Welsh. In London my mother constantly declared her deep allegiance to Wales but, having spent much of her own childhood in Somerset, she was unable to communicate with her relatives or think in its mother tongue when she stayed with them. The Wales of the long summers of my childhood was in the south, a rural village on edge of the Rhondda Valley where my mother was born. It was small and dominated by the history of coal and a family tied to the Great Western Railway until the arrival of the Royal Mint in 1969 rapidly expanded its population. Charlotte grew up in the coastal resort town of Llandudno, in North Wales on the Creuddyn peninsula that protrudes out toward the Irish sea although no one she knew from within their small community had travelled further than Pwllheli and Prestatyn: “We lived our lives bounded by the sea”, she says, “but very few had crossed it”.
ThroughoutSugar and Slate,Charlotte Williams situates Wales historically and geographically within circuits of the Atlantic world which flow around the story of her emerging sense of self. In contrast to the stasis of Llandudno’s Victorian architecture and residents and the heavy weight of racialization bearing down on her soul “like a Welsh Not”, Williams as a writer creates a subject in motion. The restless currents of the book reproduce the triangle of the Atlantic trade in its three sections, “Africa”, “Guyana” and “Wales”. In its opening pages we meet an emergent subject who, when she thinks about Africa, thinks “about the beginning of my self”. At six years old Williams embarks on her first voyage with her mother and sisters to visit her father in the Sudan, a journey whi