A candid interview with young Canadian fiction writer Robert Edison Sandiford who presently lives in Barbados.

ROBERT EDISON SANDIFORD first came on the scene a little over a decade ago when the names and faces of Black writers began to appear in mainstream listings. He was a freelance writer for local newspapers, The Montreal Gazette and Community Contact among them. A few folks, including myself, came to view Sandiford, then in his early 20's, as the successor of the late Clifton Ruggles, one of a few African-Canadians to write for The Gazette around the late 1980's and early 1990's. Sandiford had other plans, like getting hitched and spending some time in Barbados (his other home) with his Barbadian bride, Delores. He is presently the acting literary editor of The Nation, one of the local dailies. Sandiford's work has also appeared in The Globe and Mail, The Antigonish Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Caribbean Travel & Life, The Comics Journal, and Erotic Stories in the U.K., among other publications. He is the author of Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall: Stories (Empyreal Press/The Independent Press, Montreal, 1995) and Attractive Forces (NBM Publishing, New York, 1997), a comics adaptation of his erotic stories illustrated by Seattle artist Justin Norman. A second adaptation, Stray Moonbeams, also with the same artist, will be out from NBM this fall, and Sandiford has recently completed his first full-length novel, Squirrels. Early this year, I caught up with him while he was in Montreal on his annual visit and decided to have a chat with him when he got back to Bim and had settled down from all the millennium hype. The following is what came out of our connection.

Joyette: Hello Robert. It is always a pleasure to chat with a fellow writer. How was your visit to Montreal. Are these annual retreats, pilgrimages, visits to the old neighborhood or family bonding?

Sandiford: This last visit was a good one-got a lot done in terms of meeting with people, friends, family, business associates. I seem to be getting better organized the more I do this back and forth thing, which is really about recharging the old batteries as well as reestablishing contact with the old neighborhood. I draw my strength from this place still and always will, particularly because of friends and family.

Joyette: Sounds like therapy to me. I guess we need a bit of that from time to time. In that sense home is always in walking distance... How is life in paradise? I read in the January issue of the Community Contact that you have done a good bit of writing and publishing since you went south. Would you like to elaborate?

Sandiford: Life in paradise is never quite that, and apart from the writing I've been doing for the paper, much of the publishing I've been doing has gone on elsewhere (between Canada and the U.S.A.). My first book, Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, was recently reprinted; it's being used in the schools in Barbados. Stray Moonbeams, another comic's adaptation of my erotic love stories illustrated by Justin Norman (who also illustrated the first, Attractive Forces) should be coming out this year from NBM Publishing. But, despite an increase in activity on the literary front (more festivals and contests and the like), not much actual book publishing goes on apart from self-publishing. Which is fine as long as the quality is high. It isn't always.

Joyette: Are you saying that in spite of the political and economical gains Barbados has made over the years and the number of well known writers and artists it has produced there is nothing happening towards... say the creation of a national literature or something along that line? Satisfy my curiosity, Robert. If Barbados is still at that stage then it is reasonable to assume that the literary arts in the rest of the Caribbean fare similar fate. Would you say that such a situation is due to the exiled condition of Caribbean literature? Would you like to comment on these?

Sandiford: Whoa! I don't know if I would or could say all that. First, although I know St. Lucia has a festival in either January or February celebrating its two Nobel laureates, Derek Walcott in particular (the other one escapes me now), and this is a weeklong thing, and Jamaica has Ian Randle Publishers, and the literary scene-hell, the artistic/cultural scene-in Trinidad has always been dynamic, I can't really speak for the whole region. From what I've seen, there is activity, but maybe it could be more focussed. No, no maybes. It could be-it should be......Now you say Barbados has produced a considerable amount of literary talent. Well, that's not quite true. To my mind, our best known writer is Edward "Kamau" Braithwaite, the poet. You can find his Arrivants in most bookstores (secondhand and new) in and around Montreal. Then comes Lamming, the novelist, but he's spent more time being an intellectual in recent years. There's also John Wickham, who has some stature, and "expats" like Austin ("Tom" to Baja ns) Clarke, Cecil Foster. But John has been rather self-effacing, and Austin and Cecil are really Barbadian- Canadians-they're hyphenated now...... What I'm saying, I guess, is that we really don't have that many internationally known Barbadian writers. And that may come from this whole question of exile. Kamau teaches in the U.S., in New York. There's another Bajan writer I forgot to mention, novelist Glenville Lovell, who is also in New York. Lamming is based part of the year in the U.S. And, well, we've already dealt with those in Canada. Should these writers stay at home? Home is where one feels a welcome. You go here you can be published and read by the most people possible. No. I wouldn't say that. Should V.S. Naipaul have stayed in Trinidad? Certainly not. It's doubtful he would be as highly regarded and accomplished as he is today, even if he seems more British than Trinidadian or Indian... But I was speaking about trade offs before. Out of sight, out of mind. If Barbadians, for instance, don't apprec iate their own literature or literary heroes, it has less to do with colonialism and its effects than with the fact its own writers, and not just the government, haven't done more, made more of a concerted effort, to tell the people, in terms they can relate to and take to heart, why should it matter to them?

In some ways, though, I often think Barbadians are like Canadians in their lack of appreciation for their own heroes. On the one hand, we're proud to call, Celine Dion - off the top of my head - one of ours. Her success may be American, which to many is to say global, but, by God, she was born here. On the other, we grudge her success. Forget about her excesses or shortcomings as a person or singer: a job well done is a job well done, and we should be able to recognize that first, not have anybody, like the Americans, tell us. I often think of Mavis Gallant, who left Quebec-Canada-for France, because she found the reception there to her and her work less frosty than here. And there are numerous other examples. It's about appreciating and then celebrating what good you've got, even if it isn't your thing, not envying or dismissing it.

Joyette: What are your sources of inspiration over there? Do they have anything to do with the pastoral ease of life in Barbados or your longing for the urban jungles of Canada?

Sandiford: Many people have this notion that because you're living in the tropics, life is easier or more idyllic than anywhere else. Barbados is known as a laid-back country, and the landscapes - the fields and hills - certainly are lovely. And the people are friendly, though, perhaps, more so to tourists than to each other. But the truth is, the grass is rarely ever greener on the other side of the pasture, only a little less trodden. And then often not even that. There are problems, social problems, political problems and the like, in Barbados. There are equivalent problems in Canada. I think it's a question of knowing which problems you feel most comfortable, if not able, to face.

Joyette: (Jokingly) It's difficult to view the Caribbean differently when looking at its own self-perceptions: values, beliefs and resources. No great internal problems like racism, linguistic or ethnic wars to keep them hopping.... What's the literary scene like in the Caribbean? Did you have any problem fitting in.?

Sandiford: Well, as I was saying before, there is activity. And as the associate literary editor of The Nation, I am a part of it. I've judged contests and have written about where I feel Barbadian literature needs to take itself in the twenty-first century. There needs to be a greater appreciation of quality; too much mediocre work is praised. Those producing good work need to learn the business of writing as well as the art and craft. Things like that. But I don't think I fit into the scene really. There's a difference between being a Canadian of Barbadian descent and a Barbadian, full stop. I still draw most of my inspiration from a particular North American environment, that particular context. My writing is not what you would call "typically West Indian."

Joyette: Would you say then, it is typically Canadian of Caribbean influence? How would you define it?

Sandiford: Actually, I don't. Or, at least, I try not to. What is "typically Canadian literature of Caribbean influence" anyway? It might sound like I'm trying to dodge the question, but I'm not, really. I mean, when people talk about work being Canadian but of Caribbean influence, they tend to think of specific people: Austin Clarke, Neil Bisoondath, Marlene Nourbese-Philip, Dany Laferriere. Very different writers producing very different work, really. And I think, if anything, I want my work, despite a certain kinship to be just as different as theirs, to have its own place. My two most pronounced themes are the conflicting passions of erotic love and the inevitable resilience of familial love. I seek to justify the ways of peoples to each other. That's how I tend to define what I do. But, beyond that, I try not to get caught up in too many definitions. I simply try to tell the best stories I can....

Joyette: When you made the decision to move to "Bimshire," did you view it as returning to your roots? If so, what did this discovery meant to you personally and to your writing?

Sandiford: No...no...I can't say I saw it as a conscious decision to return to my roots. I was aware that that was how many would view it and that the opportunity to explore the country of my parents' birth would be great, but to be quite honest, I moved to Barbados for two reasons: my wife-to-be and work. Sherry was there, and it was easier for her to find work in Barbados than in Montreal, of course, and at the time I left.. .well, it was easier for me to find work in Barbados, too, doing something that was in my line rather than any old thing. Montreal was just coming out of a recession then, in the mid to late-nineties. And with only one major English-language paper.

Joyette: I guess we will see Barbados playing a prominent part of the settings and atmospheres of your future stories?

Sandiford: I think so, if only because it has always been there in some form or fashion. But I take it you mean it will move more to the forefront, and that it has. I tend to write like that: according to age and environment. When I was in high school, for instance, I wrote more stories about teenagers and their troubles. So, yeah, you can expect to see Barbados play a more prominent role. But prominent doesn't necessarily mean "favourable". I'm more interested in telling it like it is, not the way certain people would like to think it is or must be. Also, I think distance lends perspective. Austin Clarke has chronicled the West indian experience in Toronto. That experience in Montreal has yet to be fully explored in fiction and that is still one of my primary goals.

Joyette: In that sense we can be expecting from you in the not too distant future a new twist on the immigrant genre in black Canadian literature? ... Tell me Robert...why did you choose to become a writer and who or what had the most influence on your decision?

Sandiford: By virtue of where I'm coming from, I would hope so. The next volume of The Cumberbatch Chronicles--"The Sun in My Eyes," will be quite different even from the first, I think.

Joyette: As one of the new writers on the scene, how do you see the writings of black authors faring in Canada? Is it that some publishers might be more interested in the flavor of the month than in letting an author build a body of work that is truly unique and will stand the test of time-as well as be commercially viable.

Sandiford: Hmm. I don't know. Sometimes, it seems there's great activity. There has been great interest in the work of Andre Alexis, George Elliott Clarke, Austin Clarke, even Cecil Foster--and this is only to name a few off the top of my head. I've been somewhat out of the loop by being in Barbados, so I know there are names I'm forgetting or am simply not aware of yet, especially among the women writers we have. What concerns me I mean, I was reading some articles recently about publishing, minority publishing, in the States. These articles basically dealt with blacks, Hispanics and Asians. And all interviewed basically said the same thing: publishers don't take these writers or their potential markets seriously enough, and they tend to look for a formula. For instance, Amy Tan's, The Joy Luck Club was a huge critical and commercial success. It was turned into a movie. Still, that's no reason to expect her to continue to write the same story over and over again because she's Chinese or to expect other young Chinese writers to mimic her plots and themes for the sake of getting published, or to assume, "There's a good Chinese-American market for this stuff," full stop. Her market, clearly, isn't only Chinese or Asian. Why be so surprised such a market exists anyway, as if Asians don't read or buy books? And this is the States we're talking about, where you would figure such battles, if not laid to rest, are at least a little less fierce since more Blacks and Asians are, presumably, in key, decision-making positions, are more part of the "mainstream". But that's probably just an illusion, eh?

So I think we probably have these same problems here despite our avowed multiculturalism. Instead of looking out for the new so-and-so for as many people as possible, we're always looking for the next so-and-so to cater to a particular group, which, although I understand the economics of it, is funny. Because the authors we place in the pantheon are there because their unique voices talk to so many.

Sandiford: I guess it does. I find, especially being in the tropics now, that the seasons mark you (some would say "scar you"). I can feel it in my bones when the ice begins to melt. Try explaining daylight saving time to someone unaccustomed to it, and how the sun can set at nine at night, and watch them stare at you in amazement. I don't have to see the leaves change color to know that they are. And I remember the days when a snowstorm meant more than two feet of snow. That's how I've found the people around me living their lives, White or Black: according to the seasons. It may not be an original motif, but it's a genuine one.

Joyette: Most of the stories in Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall are set within a family environment except for the last story, "You Always Promise," which relates to other conditions outside the family compound. Is the family, for you, a microcosm of society, community or both?

Sandiford: Hm.... I wouldn't say family is a microcosm of society for me, but I do think that what happens in one household can find itself played out in the wider community. In "You Always Promise," a boy runs away because of his mother's abuse and both are spotted by Edson, the main character, who finds himself then involved in their situation. But he only becomes involved because their conflict has spilled out of their household into society.... No, I wouldn't generalize. Edson's family life is quite different, after all....

Joyette: Death seems to be one of the central themes in Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall. Were you using death as a metaphor for change or an eventful experience that is inevitable in our lives? A few other Quebec writers have talked about death in their works: Horace I. Goddard and H. Nigel Thomas. Would you say that it is the influence of the time?

Sandiford: To be honest, I may have been using death in the way you describe, but I can't remember. Originally, there were 12 stories to the collection. Then, upon reading them, Steve Luxton, the publisher of DC Books and a poet, suggested I stick to the four interrelated stories, which were the Cumberbatch family stories--he suggested I make those the collection. I remember, some of the other stories also touched on death, but I don't think it was a conscious effort on my part. Maybe there was something in the air....

Joyette: Would you like to tell us about your other works?

Sandiford: My other work includes Attractive Forces, a comic's adaptation of my erotic stories. Stray Moon Beams, a second volume, should be out this fall from NBM Publishing. Both are illustrated by Justin Norman who is based in Seattle.

Joyette: Robert, can you briefly explain how you develop your characters or talk about some of the criticism you received since you began to write.

Sandiford: I tend to be character-oriented. Usually, I'll have a character then see him in a situation and go from there. That has its advantages and disadvantages, of course. I believe much as the British writer Neil Gaiman does: plot is whatever makes you turn the page.

If wanting to know how this character can possibly get from his bed, to his car, to work given, his situation is what makes you turn the page, is what keeps you interested, then that is plot. Needless to say, not everyone will agree. Steve [Luxton] had trouble with many of my stories because they weren't "Aristotelian" in form.

Joyette: In a time when drugs, guns, sex, crimes of passion, poverty and other forms of violence overwhelm our social lives, is there any role you would like your writing to play?

Sandiford: Well, I wouldn't want my work to add to the mayhem, but I have a low tolerance for didactic stuff. If handled well, even the most violent, sexy work can show us a better way--if it wants to. It may just show us the way we are, and that might be good enough. Works of literature don't really change us. We change us. They just remind us of what we already know. You mentioned that you found my first collection "mild." I find people mistake a simpler style and quieter tone for boring or writing that lacks passion. The thing is, I don't write the same way all the time. It depends on what I'm writing. Those who get what I'm up to have no problem appreciating my style or approach. Those who don't are looking for something else, which is fair. Having said all that, honest criticism is just that: I try not to slight my readers in terms of plot or storyline, and I try not to be too subtle. I pay attention to these things more these days, especially when I revise.

Joyette: Talking about influences, tell me Robert. Why did you choose to become a writer and who or what had the most influence on your decision and your favorite authors if any?

Sandiford: I don't think I so much chose to be a writer as came to the conclusion that I was or should be one. I think the greatest influence on me were comics. My eldest brother was a collector, and I got into them because of him (despite my mother's objections; she saw them as a waste of money). Stan Lee was probably my first hero in terms of writers, although I read his stuff now and wonder why. These days, I'm more fond of Alan Moore, Robert Cormier, Alice Munro, Joseph Conrad, Geroge Elliott Clarke...and the list goes on.

Joyette: Robert, it has been a pleasure chaffing with you. I wish you the best and hope that you will keep us posted on the ongoing developments in your writing life.

Sandiford: Thank you. And I will.

Anthony T. Joyette is a graduate of Concordia University's Faculty of Fine Arts. He is a talented painter and poet. Many of his reviews and critical writing have appeared in Kola over the years. As the former editor of the magazine he maintains a deep interest in promoting Black Canadian writing.