Gayl Jones

By the acclaimed writer of Palmares and Corregidora.When the Portuguese attack Palmares, Brazil''s last fugitive slave enclave, Almeyda and her husband are separated as they flee from the destruction. Amid the flight and re-enslavement of the inhabitants, their narrative emerges.Two powerful, epic poems give voice to the lovers: Almeyda''s passionate lament for Anninho, whom she believes has been killed, is combined with his response as he searches for her. Their story is one of longing - for each other, for freedom - and for revolution.''I want to stay here, Anninho.''''There won''t be any wayyou can stay here.When they catch us,they''ll take you back.''''The men they kill,the women they take back.''

No novel about any Black woman could ever be the same after this' TONI MORRISONI dreamed with my eyes open. All the Corregidora women with narrow waists and high cheekbones and wide hips. All the Corregidora women dancing. Blues singer Ursa is consumed by her hatred of Corregidora, the nineteenth-century slave master who fathered both her mother and grandmother. Charged with 'making generations' to bear witness to this legacy of abuse, Ursa must confront her family history after a fight with her husband leaves her unable to have children. Haunted by the ghosts of a Brazilian plantation, pained by the fractured relationships of her present, she slowly and firmly strikes her own terms with womanhood. Upon publication in 1975, Corregidora was hailed as a masterpiece, winning acclaim from writers including James Baldwin, Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison and John Updike. Exploring themes such as race, sexuality and the long repercussions of slavery, this powerful novel paved the way for Beloved and The Colour Purple. 'Corregidora is the most brutally honest and painful revelation of what has occurred, and is occurring, in the souls of Black men and women' JAMES BALDWIN 'A literary giant, and one of my absolute favourite writers' TAYARI JONES 'An American writer with a powerful sense of vital inheritance, of history in the blood' JOHN UPDIKE, NEW YORKER