"Born a Crime" by Trevor Noah: My (long overdue) take that nobody asked for

I read this book five months ago and wrote my first draft of a review shortly thereafter.

  

And you're only getting around to finishing now?!

And you wonder why that writing career you dreamed of never took off? SMH

Anyhoo ... still better late than never. 

You know how if your best friend comes to you and starts to tell you about a disagreement they'd had with someone you almost already know whose side you're going to be on?

That's how I started this book.  I turned to the first page giddy with excitement 'knowing' I was going to love it.

And, spoiler alert, I did.

My absolutely loving it was not that much of a real surprise I guess. I've only been Noah's fan for several years, following his YouTube channel and watching him on The Daily Show (now The Daily Social Distancing Show thanks to Covid...sidebar I love him with his uncut hair and sweat shirts just about as much as I do with him in suits #CovidUstillSuck).

A few of the stories in the book were therefore not entirely new to me.  It didn't matter though, I laughed just as hard, perhaps even more since I could now also visualise the memory of him telling that story - and Trevor is quite a remarkable storyteller. #insertSwoon

I would not be forthcoming though if I didn't admit that I did begin to wonder about the veracity of the stories.  How many of these are genuinely his "stories of a South African Childhood" and how many are merely parts of his material for comedic purposes and therefore drawn from the life experiences of others?

But does it really matter?  

Probably not. 

Heck, so many of his stories were so relatable it could easily have been stories from a Jamaican childhood.  This realisation then triggered an even deeper appreciation as I mused on how curiously many of us seem to be a part of each other's stories despite the oceans and state lines that separate us.

#nothinNewUnderTheSunRight

It also created something of a struggle between appreciating the comedic parts - getting a full belly of laughs while acknowledging the fact that the horrors mentioned were indeed someone's reality - many persons' in fact. Should I truly be finding these accounts funny?  But like Robin Williams once said, "comedy can be a cathartic way to deal with personal trauma".

STRUCTURE

The first thing I remember standing out to me was that the story is not told in a linear manner and that drove me near nuts.  

The main character is nine, then he is five, then his mom has just asked his father to have a child (him), then he is eleven, no wait, he is seven again.  

I hated that occasionally I wasn't sure of his age at the time of some incidents being relayed.

To combat my frustration with this format though, I reminded myself that sometimes when I was telling a story I often went back and forth, muddying the order of how things happened.  That's just how the brain works.  This format was in fact giving authenticity to the idea of storytelling.  The point is for the listener (reader) to get the gist of the experience.  I think once I got my brain in line with that thought I stopped being bothered... Not really lol but I got over it.

I also loved how each chapter was prefaced with a bit of information that helped the reader to contextualize what the chapter would explore.  It gave the reader an idea of not only what life was like in South Africa at that time; but also nuggets into the author's opinions on the issues surrounding the experiences in his tales.  

PARENTING 101

Can I just say how much I love Patricia Nombuyiselo Noah! From the first moment she appears shoving Trevor from a moving vehicle, to the moment she's recovering from a gunshot wound to the face and is letting Trevor know it's the only reason he can now claim to be the best looking person in the family. 

I think I love her for primarily three reasons:

Firstly, she's Trevor's mom and you can't help but automatically love your love's loves.😉

Secondly, in several accounts she is a type of Derek and Joan Willie wrapped in one. Reading about her gave me all the feels.

Thirdly, what a woman with drive!

Like Patricia, my parents would punish me then still expect me to come kiss them 'good night' before bed.  

I was not allowed to go to bed mad at them (well at least not visibly so).  After an incident, they'd be acting like nothing happened, treating me like normal and clearly expecting that my response be the same... you do realise you just gave me a hiding (with the ruler/ belt you sent me to fetch then return to its place too #asIf)

So when Trevor speaks of his mother's actions of punishment then coming to him to participate in bonding activity, I genuinely laughed out loud at his response because they most certainly mirrored my own.

                        What? What kind of psychopath are you? You just beat me!"

                        Yes. Because you did something wrong. It doesn't mean I don't love you anymore. (p.85)

I can almost hear the modern 'experts' denouncing my parents' actions as (whatever they have expertly named it).  

As a naïve child I'd most certainly have agreed with them - how dare my parents discipline me then still expect me to demonstrate love? I surely didn't want to be bonding with my parents and would rather have spent time fuming at them for punishing me after I did something they had previously told me I'd be punished for.  

As a mature adult however, I'm filled with gratitude.  It is because of them I learned early that disagreement does not equate hate - a lesson much of our world would do well to learn.  I knew that no matter where I ended up they would never be so angry to turn me away. 

Like Patricia, my parents were (still are) wholeheartedly committed to going to church. 

My parents literally had a set of keys for the building LOL and that meant I had to be there too.  While my journeys to the building were in no way, shape or form as adventurous as Trevor's, we were there several times per week, rain or shine whether our car was working or we had to walk.  Many times we were sometimes not home until almost an hour after services had ended because we had to greet everyone then drop home several others before we actually headed home.  

But I digress, this is supposed to be a review about a book.

It is abundantly clear throughout this story that Patricia Noah's faith was a visible one throughout her son's childhood - not only of her words but also demonstrable.  While he did not then agree, and continues to disagree with her views based on this faith, it is something that he undoubtedly learned was an anchor in her character. This resonated strongly with me because of my own parents.

Mi poor pickney

Everything I have ever done, I've done from a place of love.  If I don't punish you, the world will punish you even worse.  The world doesn't love you... When I beat you, I'm trying to save you.  When they beat you, they're trying to kill you." (p. 243)

Being a parent must be a labyrinth of sorts. The complexity of having to navigate the delicate balance of correcting those ills that are a natural product of mankind's innate sinful nature; but doing so without scarring physically or emotionally, is not a job that will be executed well by the faint of heart. 

Add that to the dynamic of  being a parent in a world where you're of the 'wrong race' which then puts your child in perpetual danger for merely existing.  A parent's attempt to correct may then be amped by a desire to create a perfection that will hopefully (though not likely) safeguard that child against the radar of those who will see any wrongdoing magnified by the color of the child's skin.

My laughter morphed into snarls as I read the accounts of mindless racial injustice.  None of these were new to me but can one truly get to the point of being emotionally untouched by repeatedly hearing of such accounts?  Hopefully not.

Incidentally my reading coincided with the marches spurred by the Black Lives Matter events that were then raging in the United States and other parts of the world. 

Perhaps that was why my emotional response was so strong?

I've always, and perhaps forever will be, bewildered by this question:  

On what basis does one person, with no control of the circumstances of his/her birth then justifiably view that birth as making him/her better or more worthy than another born in different circumstances?

#ahWell 

MORE DEEP STUFF

Because Trevor is a comedian I'd been prepared for the laughs.  What I hadn't anticipated was the deep stuff.  The heart tugging kind of stuff.

Being the descendant of slaves, I know some history of my fore parents' woes.  But growing up as a Jamaican black person, even with our share of colourism issues, I realise that I had been tremendously shielded.  I never, until recent years, understood the depth of physical and psychological warfare just so black people can have a place in the world. For these topics to find place in a comedic work is both sad and meaningful.  On the one hand it's scary that such a reality exists, and on the other, as Williams said, it's cathartic that we can still find humor in the midst of such harsh realities.  

One drop (not the Jamaican dance)

Trevor alludes to an otherness I've heard black mixed persons express because they too often find themselves rejected by the groups that make up their 'halves'. Not black enough because of the other half, yet not acceptable to the other half because of the black blood.  

I've also heard him joke about the 'one drop' rule formerly used in South Africa and the Antebellum South where a person was considered black if even one ancestor anywhere on their family tree was black.  According to Trevor, it's a hilarious irony that such a rule meant to belittle someone for being part black actually demonstrated the remarkable strength of the black race if one drop of black blood was impactful enough to void the existence of the blood from the other race. Regardless of where on one's family tree there existed even one black ancestor, the one drop rule meant that the other ancestor was relegated a non factor. 
#SomeRacistDidntThinkThisOneAllTheWayThruHAHA.  

But then prejudice doesn't likely produce rational thinking I guess.

"You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice" - Bob Marley

The third reason I love Trevor's mom was because of the amazing strength of character she displays time and again throughout the story. Instance after instance recounted made me think "wow, some people have serious will!"

To just keep going when the odds are seemingly stacked against you is a mark of one's strength; and Trevor's mom is quite a role model in this regard. You know someone is impressive when you ask yourself if you think you could handle 'that'  in response to something they have had to deal with.  Not everyone has that kind of mettle.

Her strength is such a significant textbook juxtaposition of the weakness of her abusive husband, Abel, it could have been a fictional creation.  The audacity he displays in blaming her for his failures as he raises a gun to attempt to kill her, stirred tremendous anger in me.

 "You've stolen my life.  You've taken everything away from me. Now I'm going to kill all of you." (p 276) 

But isn't that the response of the weak? Always blaming others for their shortcomings.  Always believing that by pummeling others into the ground they will be able to stand. 

CONCLUSION

Good stories are supposed to connect the reader with the characters. That's why we laugh or cry or become angry while watching a movie - even the purely fictitious ones (heck I've cried while watching sci-fi). The writer, director and actors have connected us to that world. 

It's twice as intense if it reflects something that we know actually exists beyond the screen or the pages we turn. 

Trevor's character, in my mind at least, never displays the naivety of a child's thoughts - it is after all being told through the eyes of his adult self; where memories have arguably been tainted/improved by life's experiences.  

However, the widening of his physical world as he grows older and begins to interact with others from different walks of life, allows him to begin to see and, by extension, discuss a world outside of his small family circle. 

The struggles he faces and adjustments he makes to survive a life as a mixed child in a racially divided society, help the reader to interpret a broadening/ development of his world view and demonstrate an awakening in the character.

Plus there is lots of opportunity for riotous laughter.

#LOVEDIT