JavaScript is disabled in your web browser or browser is too old to support JavaScript. Today almost all web pages contain JavaScript, a scripting programming language that runs on visitor's web browser. It makes web pages functional for specific purposes and if disabled for some reason, the content or the functionality of the web page can be limited or unavailable.

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Crimes of Poor Folk

by

20150423

"Peo­ple say: Don't wash your dirty linen in pub­lic. But bi­og­ra­phy is noth­ing but hav­ing a jook­ing board and a wash­tub set out in Wood­ford Square, and you just get the dirty linen and you wash away..."Bi­og­ra­ph­er and lit­er­ary crit­ic Arnold Ram­per­sad made this joke last Thurs­day, on the process of craft­ing an au­then­tic bi­og­ra­phy (as op­posed to a "dry-cleaned" one)–writ­ing which un­cov­ers the truths of a per­son's life, and the con­text shap­ing their achieve­ments.

Prof Ram­per­sad was talk­ing on the sub­ject of his own fa­ther, the Trinidad jour­nal­ist Jerome Ram­per­sad, as part of a lec­ture se­ries on his­tor­i­cal fig­ures in T&T jour­nal­ism host­ed by The Friends of Mr Biswas. The event took place on April 16, at the Na­tion­al Li­brary, where Dr Rodger Samuel, Min­is­ter of Na­tion­al Di­ver­si­ty and So­cial In­te­gra­tion, in­duct­ed the pro­fes­sor as a Dis­tin­guished Friend of Mr Biswas.

Jerome Ram­per­sad (prob­a­bly ini­tial­ly bap­tised Geron­i­mo Ewart Her­nan­dez, ac­cord­ing to fam­i­ly sources–he may have been born out of wed­lock, said his son) was a mid­dle-class mav­er­ick who wrote a live­ly and pop­u­lar court col­umn of­ten root­ed in the lighter crimes of poor peo­ple, es­pe­cial­ly poor black peo­ple, at a time when pre-in­de­pen­dence lo­cal me­dia usu­al­ly on­ly rep­re­sent­ed news and views of the rul­ing elite of whites.

His col­umn was called In The Courts To­day, and ran in the Evening News (print­ed by the Trinidad Pub­lish­ing Com­pa­ny dai­ly from Mon­day to Fri­day) from 1947 to the late 1950s, un­der the pen name of McGee. It's said the col­umn vir­tu­al­ly sold the pa­per.

Prof Ram­per­sad's talk skil­ful­ly paint­ed a por­trait of Jerome Ram­per­sad, in an ob­ser­vant, fun­ny and at times mild­ly sar­don­ic way that had the au­di­ence of aca­d­e­mics, me­dia peo­ple and oth­ers in a thought­ful and at times laugh­ing mood as he re­vealed risque fam­i­ly foibles that threw light on the man his fa­ther was.

A com­ic col­umn

The McGee col­umn cap­tured el­e­ments of per­son­al dra­ma in the mag­is­trate's courts, and ex­pressed dif­fer­ent voic­es, from the near mute­ness of the in­tim­i­dat­ed, to the "per­verse­ly in­ven­tive, like the man who in­sist­ed, Your Ho­n­our, that he hadn't used curse words in the rumshop the way the po­lice­man said, he had sim­ply said he want­ed some liquor 'for cu­rios­i­ty's sake!'"

One hero of the col­umn was the quick-wit­ted, un­pre­ten­tious judge Fa­bi­en Ca­ma­cho, a pa­ter­nal though not pa­ter­nal­is­tic judge with a deep sense of hu­man­i­ty, quick to give peo­ple sec­ond chances, and an abil­i­ty to talk to peo­ple freely, said Prof Ram­per­sad.De­fen­dants were al­ways a cen­tral part of the col­umn. Their crimes in­clud­ed pet­ty thefts (of a bi­cy­cle, or cig­a­rettes, or bread, for in­stance), curs­ing, drunk­en­ness and loi­ter­ing; the crimes of poor peo­ple.

All of this was un­der-re­port­ed in the Evening News, not­ed Prof Ram­per­sad, un­til Jerome slipped it in by mak­ing a joke of it.Be­cause mat­ters took place in the dig­ni­ty of the court, the columns be­came a way to search for jus­tice, res­o­lu­tion and or­der in a chaot­ic so­ci­ety, said the pro­fes­sor.It was an ear­ly, gen­tly com­ic look at Trinidad neu­roses, anx­i­eties, in­jus­tices, and ac­com­plish­ments, said Prof Ram­per­sad, writ­ten by a con­flict­ed be­ing who tri­umphed over his own sense of ad­ver­si­ty through the cre­ation of a form of writ­ten art via the medi­um of print jour­nal­ism.

Fresh style, new sub­jects

The McGee col­umn was among the first to use the di­alect tone to add life to news­pa­per sto­ries, a style with el­e­ments of lit­er­ary fic­tion. This ap­proach broke from the news­pa­per con­ven­tions of the time and helped make the McGee col­umn both unique and en­ter­tain­ing. It al­so opened the way for use of more id­iomat­ic di­alect, an in­flu­ence that may have helped shape oth­er writ­ers, in­clud­ing the nov­el­ist Sam Selvon who in his ear­ly years al­so wrote for the Evening News, and knew Jerome Ram­per­sad very well.

The McGee col­umn's con­tent al­so in­tro­duced new sub­ject mat­ter–the life of or­di­nary peo­ple, via their crimes in court–which ap­pealed to many more read­ers.

Speak­ing of pos­si­ble con­nec­tions be­tween Guardian Cen­tral re­porter Seep­er­sad Naipaul and Jerome Ram­per­sad, Prof Arnold said: "Cul­tur­al­ly the men were alike in some ways, but al­so quite dif­fer­ent. Both sought to ex­plore as­pects of Trinidad life hith­er­to ig­nored or down­played in the news­pa­pers. Both want­ed al­so to be fic­tion writ­ers, with Seep­er­sad pub­lish­ing a book in the ear­ly 1940s, and Jerome fin­ish­ing a short nov­el in 1962 that has nev­er been pub­lished."

But where­as Seep­er­sad Naipaul came from a rur­al In­di­an cul­ture with an in­ter­est in Hin­du high cul­ture, Jerome's back­ground was very dif­fer­ent; he was an ur­banised, cre­olised, Chris­t­ian-born man of mixed her­itage, in­clud­ing some Venezue­lan white or mu­lat­to, and pos­si­bly In­di­an or oth­er blood. Seep­er­sad, the pro­fes­sor said, had an in­ter­est in learned Eu­ro­pean and In­di­an cul­ture; Jerome, on the oth­er hand, was more in­clined to street life.

Tur­bu­lent times

Prof Ram­per­sad not­ed that Jerome worked in that post-WW2 era where so­cial change and con­flict was sweep­ing through Trinidad: job­less­ness, il­le­gal im­mi­gra­tion from oth­er is­lands, acute hous­ing short­ages, pro­longed food ra­tioning, soar­ing prices of com­modi­ties, racial fric­tion, re­li­gious in­tol­er­ance, and the si­mul­ta­ne­ous stim­u­la­tion and ero­sion of moral and in­tel­lec­tu­al val­ues were all bub­bling up to make T&T a "new, ex­cit­ing, chal­leng­ing, puz­zling, ex­hil­a­rat­ing and dan­ger­ous place."

In this volatile con­text, Jerome re­pu­di­at­ed the ex­pec­ta­tions of his class and "de­scend­ed" in­to an un­der­world of the poor, to be­come its sole drama­tist and spokesman, said Prof Ram­per­sad.

The move wasn't just philo­soph­i­cal. Jerome's per­son­al life be­came in­volved with poor, work­ing class peo­ple (of­ten through his re­la­tion­ships with women, and the chil­dren they had with him), in so do­ing, ap­par­ent­ly turn­ing his back on his mid­dle class up­bring­ing. He chose to un­der­stand the poor in a very di­rect way, and al­so en­tered the world of gam­bling, al­co­hol, and the rough, tough male cul­ture that spon­sored this, said Prof Ram­per­sad.

His McGee court columns qui­et­ly sub­vert­ed the myth of face­less, un­de­serv­ing black peo­ple, so com­mon at that time of in­sti­tu­tion­alised racism in T&T."He want­ed to cross the line be­tween rich and poor, black and In­di­an or half-In­di­an, and Span­ish, and so on," said Prof Ram­per­sad, "...the lines that, from his point of view, dis­fig­ured Trinidad so­ci­ety."

In­flu­enced by Run­y­on

An ear­ly in­flu­ence on Jerome's writ­ing style was Da­mon Run­y­on (1880-1946), a tough-talk­ing, hard-smok­ing, sports-lov­ing, heavy drink­ing Amer­i­can news­pa­per­man and the au­thor of short sto­ries. Run­y­on's char­ac­ters were of the Brook­lyn de­mi-monde, tales of gam­blers, hus­tlers and gang­sters, and he used a ver­nac­u­lar style mix­ing for­mal Eng­lish with colour­ful street slang. Run­y­on's sto­ries seemed to be born of a cyn­i­cal vi­sion that all life was a gam­ble, and on­ly the tough­est sur­vived. This rubbed off on Jerome's writ­ing ap­proach, said Prof Ram­per­sad.

By 1947, Jerome was liv­ing a ful­ly dou­ble life, not­ed the pro­fes­sor–strad­dling the worlds of both mid­dle class and poor."Jerome was born mid­dle class but grew in­to a rebel against that class while hold­ing on to it at the same time, in cer­tain ways," summed up Prof Ram­per­sad.The hard­scrab­ble, pre­car­i­ous na­ture of T&T jour­nal­ism for those work­ers un­der the thumbs of the me­dia boss­es emerged from the lec­ture, as Prof Ram­per­sad men­tioned how his fa­ther, to­wards the end of his ca­reer, tried to form a trade union for all jour­nal­ists.

Jerome died in 1978, close to des­ti­tu­tion, said Prof Ram­per­sad. But his col­umn lived on through oth­er ghost writ­ers who were de­light­ed to take up the man­tle of McGee, as they re­spect­ed and ad­mired the tra­di­tion Jerome Ram­per­sad had be­gun.

�2 Cor­rec­tion: In the Mon­day, April 20 sto­ry 'Ram­c­hand calls for ur­gent digi­ti­sa­tion of crum­bling records,' it was stat­ed the Evening News was pub­lished from 1935 to 1989. Mr Kelvin Choy, who was se­nior sube­d­i­tor of the Evening News, ad­vis­es that the pa­per was print­ed right up to Ju­ly 27, 1990, the day of the coup.

Who is Prof Arnold Ram­per­sad?

Prof Arnold Ram­per­sad is the Sara Hart Kim­ball Pro­fes­sor Emer­i­tus in the Hu­man­i­ties at Stan­ford Uni­ver­si­ty. Born in Trinidad, he at­tend­ed Bel­mont Boys In­ter­me­di­ate School and then St Mary's. Af­ter teach­ing for a year at Fa­ti­ma Col­lege, (1960-1961), he joined Ra­dio Guardian (610 Ra­dio) as an an­nounc­er, and worked briefly in the Prime Min­is­ter's Of­fice. In 1963, he moved to Bar­ba­dos where he joined Bar­ba­dos Red­if­fu­sion as a news­cast­er. In 1965, he left for the US on a par­tial schol­ar­ship from the US State De­part­ment.

He is a grad­u­ate of Bowl­ing Green State Uni­ver­si­ty in Ohio, and Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty, where he earned his PhD in Eng­lish and Amer­i­can Lit­er­a­ture in 1973. A re­tired mem­ber of the De­part­ment of Eng­lish at Stan­ford, his books in­clude The Art and Imag­i­na­tion of WEB Du Bois; The Life of Langston Hugh­es (two vol­umes); Days of Grace: A Mem­oir, co-writ­ten with Arthur Ashe; Jack­ie Robin­son: A Bi­og­ra­phy; and Ralph El­li­son: A Bi­og­ra­phy.

A fi­nal­ist for the Pulitzer Prize in bi­og­ra­phy and for the Na­tion­al Book Award in non-fic­tion prose, he has won fel­low­ships from the John D and Cather­ine T MacArthur Foun­da­tion, the JS Guggen­heim Foun­da­tion, the Amer­i­can Coun­cil of Learned So­ci­eties, the Rock­e­feller Foun­da­tion, and the Na­tion­al En­dow­ment for the Hu­man­i­ties. He has al­so been award­ed the Na­tion­al Hu­man­i­ties Medal, pre­sent­ed by Pres­i­dent Oba­ma at the White House in 2011, and the Grad­u­ate School of Arts and Sci­ences Medal for con­tri­bu­tions to so­ci­ety, from Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty.


Related articles

Sponsored

Weather

PORT OF SPAIN WEATHER

Sponsored