Member Reviews
"How to Say Babylon" by Safiya Sinclair is a compelling and beautifully written memoir that offers a glimpse into a life filled with challenges, cultural exploration and self-discovery. Safiya's prose is a treat for the senses, making this memoir a must-read for those who appreciate powerful and lyrical storytelling.
From her experiences with colonial peers at school to her interactions with neighbors who don't come from strict Rastafarian backgrounds like her own, Safiya's memoir offers a rich tapestry of cultural and personal exploration. We also learn the meaning of "babylon" and gain a deeper understanding of life as a true Rastafarian--beyond the dreadlocks and reggae music.
On her journey of self-discovery, Safiya finds and claims her voice. As an award-winning poet, she brings a distinctive and captivating lyricism to her memoir. Her writing is nothing short of gorgeous, painting vivid images and evoking deep emotions.
While this memoir is exceptional, I rated it 4 out of 5 stars because, at times, the narrative felt a bit hard to follow. Nevertheless, this is a small criticism in light of the overall beauty and power of Safiya Sinclair's storytelling.
I am grateful to Simon & Schuster and 37 Ink for providing me with an advanced reader copy through the NetGalley app.
Normally I devour a good memoir, but not this one. It was a slow read for me as it focused mainly on abuse. I know more about this poet/author’s upbringing in a Jamaican Rastafarian family, but it was not a pleasant read.
Sophia Sinclair grew up under the abusive bullying tactics of her Rastafarian father Janny Sinclair in Jamaica. She had three sisters and one brother and a mother but she would be the one to start the unraveling of her fathers hold and the independence of her family. Her father wasn’t her only bully after winning poetry awards and being sent to the elite private school in Jamaica she would then get bullied by her white classmates who clearly thought she was inferior throughout all of her insecurities she thought she had an idea of what she wanted to be but she definitely knew what she didn’t want to be in that was just a wife who cater to mother and children so every decision she made was the one that moved her away from that because of this her father started to dislike her more and more. This was such a beautifully written autobiography and I am not one who likes autobiographies but it was so good and I found it so hard to put down also it made me so angry that this young lady who survived so much physical and mental abuse would come to America and have to suffer the stupid idiotic racism her neighbors in Charlottesville Virginia thought she deserved. We should be nice to those not born in the country we live because imagine how scary being in a foreign country and she was all alone and to have to go through that. In any event the jokes on them because she wrote about them in this book and although we don’t know their names I’m sure you know someone just like them because I do I love this book and highly recommend it if you love autobiographies then you definitely want to read How To Save Babylon by Sophia Sinclair it’s beautifully written in Oso interesting. I want to thank the publisher and Net Galley for my free arc copy please forgive any mistakes as I am blind and dictate my review.
A beautifully written memoir about Sinclair’s childhood growing up in Jamaica as a Rastafarian. Her prose is elegant and lush juxtaposed against the abuse by her slowly unraveling father. This book did lag at times but it was wonderful story about strength and words and love. Thank you to NetGalley for an opportunity to read and review this book.
If ever anyone needed proof that the best poets are forged by fire, How to Say Babylon should lay the question to rest. In lyric prose and unflinching honesty, Sinclair weaves the story of her life--the twisted and knotted history of Black repression, Black anger, Black art, Black hope, mixed with misogyny, poverty, and generational trauma--much as her dreadlocks twisted and knotted down her back from the age of 8 until the day she cut herself free. What sets this story apart--other than Sinclair's musical, rhythmic language and the love of her native Jamaica that shines through every page--is her full embrace of the thorny history of her family, past, present, and future. Her relentless pursuit of understanding, of forgiveness, of hope for the future. Hers is a spirit that would not be smothered, that came out of the crush of life like a honed carbon, cutting through repression and pain with truth and beauty.
The word that comes to mind when reading How to Say Babylon is pressing. It is a story of a way of life that I did not know I needed to learn of before, so used to stereotypes of Rastas was I as a woman with Trinidadian heritage. But it is a critical telling that demands one’s attention and rewards it with gorgeous, poetic expression and the tale of the triumph of a woman and her family over a twisted ideology that would have help them captive.
Read Around the World: <b>Jamaica</b>
My heart hurts so much after finishing this. It will take me D A Y S to get over this story and to be honest, I doubt I will ever get OVER it, it will just become a part of me and I can see me thinking of parts of this over the years out of nowhere - it is that kind of book.
I honestly cannot write much more a review than this...it cut very close to home for me and I spent much of it in tears. I am grateful for the end and what happens, but I do wish we'd had more of how that all came about. Even so, it was nice to end in a good way after all that pain. From personal experience, not everyone gets that and it gives hope to see one that does.
Thank you to NetGalley, Safiya Sinclair, and Simon and Schuster for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Safiya grows up in Jamaica, the daughter of strict and often abusive Rastafarian father. Her early years while laced with good memories, grow dark as she reaches puberty. The perimeters of her life set by her father become smaller and smaller. Thankfully, she is an intelligent young woman who is seen by significant adults her life and is able to advance and given educational opportunities not afforded to others. However, the further she pulls the stronger her father pulls her back. The one area he can not breach is her poetry which allows her the freedom she often dreams. This memoir tells of her growing up and breaking away from her family even as she is emotionally scarred and hurt from the abuse and separation from them.
How to Say Babylon by Safiya Sinclair is a captivating memoir from start to finish. It is Safiya Sinclair's story of growing up in Jamaica under an extremely controlling Rastafarian father. She was not allowed to wear makeup, pants, jewelry, or have friends. Her father was a tyrant who ruled with an iron thumb, but amid the harshness, Safiya was able to break free, largely in part due to her tenacity and love of poetry. The writing is beautiful to read and listen to, it is obvious that Safiya has a love of words and I'm so happy she narrated the book herself.
A heart-wrenching memoir of triumph, abuse, self-love, and the power of writing. A brave telling of the author’s life. A beautifully written memoir filled with education for the reader and emotion and finally hope.
Thank you Simon & Schuster and Net Galley for this ARC in exchange for my honest opinion.
I absolutely loved this book. I knew only the most basic info about Rastafarian culture and really about Jamaica in general, so this was truly a learning experience for me. I also really loved the beauty of Sinclair's writing. Even when she's talking about violence, abuse, and sexual harassment, she never loses the poetic quality of her writing. It makes for such a unique experience. Definitely the best memoir I've read this year and it will be going into my top 10 favorite memoirs with the likes of Born A Crime, Crying In H Mart, Educated, Will, and more. 10/10 would recommend for anyone who enjoys the memoir format.
How to Say Babylon is a beautiful memoir. It is clear to see that the author is a poet, with her eloquent and detailed descriptions of the scenery around where she grew up. I was unfamiliar with Rastafarian culture prior to reading this and I learned so much. I admire the courage it took Safiya Sinclair to stand up to her violent, controlling father and to fight for her freedom. This was a wonderful memoir that I’ll be thinking about for a long time.
Safiya Sinclair’s memoir is comprehensive. She begins it before her birth, considering where her parents came from and why they became interested in Rastafari, and moves through her childhood and into her young adulthood. In meticulous prose anchored by a remarkable reconstruction of memory (few memoirs do dialogue like this one), Sinclair paints a picture of her Montego Bay childhood, from the pull of the ocean and the smiles of her siblings to her father’s temper and, as the cover suggests, the creation and eventual cutting of her dreadlocks, an iconic symbol of Rastafari. Sinclair fluidly explains elements Rastafari for readers who aren’t familiar with it. Her father’s opposition to “Babylon,” the Rastafari term for the ills of Western society, defines Sinclair’s childhood, and the book.
Yet Sinclair’s mother subtly—by design—anchors the book as well. Sinclair’s father expected her to fit into Rastafari's patriarchal systems. Without many of the most obvious markers of “independent women,” Sinclair’s mother is a force. Her quiet intelligence leads her to tutor her four children, who become some of the strongest students in the Caribbean. I felt that the memoir really hit its stride when Sinclair leaned into her journey of becoming a poet. The poetry world was not without its own oppressions, but writing allowed Sinclair to begin to make sense of her father’s violence and break out of it.
Perhaps the most impressive aspect of the memoir is how Sinclair manages to be simultaneously unflinching and loving. There is ample understanding for both of her parents; contextualizing her father's actions doesn’t excuse them. At the end, I cried contemplating the power of a parental apology.
I see a lot of well-deserved love for this book, but I have to say that it isn’t my favorite of Sinclair’s books. That honor goes to her poetry collection, Cannibal (2017, see my 8/3/23 post). If you liked Sinclair’s language in this memoir, I strongly recommend you check out her poems, which are even more astounding.
This memoir is about the author growing up with an abusive father who also happens to be Rastafarian. Jamaica comes alive with the described patois and culture. I learned about a religion I knew very little about. An additional theme is about being different. Especially in classes where Sinclair had a scholarship, awkwardly painful encounters will make you cringe. Between the discrimination and abuse Sinclair writes about, there is a dark cloud. But then she finds poetry and although that leads her to experience more misogyny and ultimately assaults, there is a success story here and family love and loyalty. Beautifully written and ultimately uplifting.
Copy provided by the publisher and NetGalley
Lyrical. Raw. Redemptive.
HOW TO SAY BABYLON captures Safiya Sinclair’s stifling upbringing at the hands of her father and his Rastafarian beliefs. This memoir is simultaneously a love letter to the people of Jamaica and a critique of the repressive community she was raised in.
I love how Sinclair has wrestled with her childhood trauma and has chosen to share her voice, spread her wings, and find forgiveness. My prior knowledge of Rastafarian culture was limited and I appreciated the unique perspective Sinclair offered.
The audiobook narrated by Safiya added another layer of depth and vulnerability to the book. HOW TO SAY BABYLON is the October @readwithjenna pick and one I highly recommend!
Many thanks to Simon Audio and Simon Books Buddy for an ARC and ALC in exchange for an honest review.
Poet Safiya SInclair's memoir of her upbringing in Jamaica is as good as memoirs get. She describes with unblinking honesty what it was like growing up in a house ruled by her tyrannical, misogynistic father, a strict adherent of Rastafarianism. Her mother saved her by providing her with books on the sly, at great risk to both of them. How to Say Babylon also stands out for the hypnotic quality of Sinclair's prose (not surprisingly) and its powerful sense of place. Eventually, Sinclair escapes to the U.S., where her incisive mind and aesthetic sensibility combine to make her a standout student and award-winning writer. In 2016, she published her debut poetry collection, Cannibal. How to Say Babylon is an exceptionally absorbing and compelling read. Highly recommended!
I finished this a while ago, and I just had to sit with my feelings about it for a bit. Firstly, I absolutely loved the writing in this memoir, you can tell she has a background in poetry. It was lyrical, emotive, and flowed beautifully.
I also loved how she incorporated historical context re the rise of Rastafari in Jamaica and the societal impact it had on those who chose to follow this religion/movement.
Also, giving us background on her parents lives growing up, and how that eventually shaped the people who they became was pivotal to the story of her family and the way it impacted them.
Although her story isn't a unique one, a child growing up in a strict religious household and struggling to express themselves and form their own identity away from how their parents raised them. The way that Safiya writes about it, punches you in the solar plexus and makes you want to scream.
This memoir is an absolutely amazing read and I encourage everyone to read it.
A beautifully written story of freedom, self discovery, and courage. It’s poetic, lyrical, and captivating. This story of survival both fascinated and wrecked me. I would absolutely recommend this to anyone who enjoyed Educated, The Glass Castle, or Born a Crime.
3 stars
Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for this ARC.
This was a tough memoir to read for sure, and it's easy to see how much emotion and time Safiya Sinclair put into it. I feel like I learned from reading this, and I enjoyed learning about Safiya's experience growing up in Jamaica and the history of Rasta, as well as so many other things she shared that I had no idea about. I read memoirs to learn about other's lives and experiences and cultures, and this memoir absolutely did that for me.
I personally wasn't a gigantic fan of the writing style, but that's absolutely a personal preference and is in no way a criticism on Safiya. Her writing style definitely reflects her being a poet, which for me meant that there was a lot of symbolism which I'm not a huge fan of. The pacing was really slow for me personally, and while I appreciate the time it took for her to weave her story and for all of that emotional impact to sink in, it just made it a slow read for me. Safiya's writing is beautiful and artistic, and I think that's something that individuals who are more patient than me will really enjoy.
I'd recommend this book to anyone who loves poetry, or loves memoirs. As I said before, it definitely taught me about a way of life that I'm absolutely unfamiliar with. It's a great story about the closeness of family and the ways that people and families grow over time. It does have some strong triggers though, so if you have sensitivities I would recommend checking those before reading this book.
"The countryside had always belonged to my father. Cloistered amidst towering blue mahoes and primeval ferns, this is where he was born. Where he first communed with Jah, roaring back at the thunder. Where he first called himself Rasta. Where I would watch the men in my family grow mighty while the women shrunk. Where tonight, after years of diminishment under his shadow, I refused to shrink anymore. At nineteen years old, all my fear had finally given way to fire." (loc. 80*)
Growing up in a strict Rastafari household in Jamaica, Sinclair learned above all to guard herself against the dangers of Babylon: against imperialism, Christianity, atheism, white people, impurity. Her parents loved her and her siblings fiercely, fought for them to get the best education possible, but at the same time, her father's adherence to religion, and his dissatisfaction with his circumstances, got more and more stifling. He would do anything to protect his daughters from Babylon—even if that meant destroying them in the process.
"Years later, while retracing the history of my family's journey into Rastafari, I would eventually come to understand that my mother felt called because she wanted to nurture, and my father felt called because he wanted to burn." (loc. 352)
This is such a complicated, heart-wrenching story, and it is absolutely *beautifully* written. I didn't know, going in, that Sinclair is a celebrated poet, but I guessed that she was a poet within the first few pages. One of the things I love about poetry (or, poetry done right) is that it calls for such precision of language, and when a poet can translate that skill into prose—not an easy job—it can be phenomenal. Part of Sinclair's story is about learning to hone her skills as a poet, but even when she's writing about writing (a memoir topic I approach with extreme caution), she's writing as well about survival. Because her father could hold her back from the gates of Babylon, but he could not make her desire the restricted life of subservient daughter, subservient wife, voiceless poet.
I'm not sure where Sinclair is going as a writer from here, but wherever it is, I'll follow.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.