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A review by isabellarobinson7
Oroonoko, or The Royal Slave by Catherine Gallagher, Aphra Behn
3.0
Rating: 3 stars
When I was reading this book, I kept getting that Enya song in my head. As in "Orinoco Flow". I sang it with a choir ages ago in primary school and my strongest memory of it is after all those months of practicing, finally when it came to the performance, it was one of the last songs we sang, and I was really tired, so I kind of zoned out and just got stuck singing "Sail away, sail away, sail away" over and over again for who knows how long before I woke up and realised we were past that part. BUT ANYWAY, let's actually get into Oroonoko the book, i.e. what this is all supposed to be about.
My mum bought Oroonoko for me based purely on premise. She read the back, thought "mmm, sounds like something Isabella would like" and got it for me (thanks Mum!). When I myself read the blurb, I agreed - this book sounded like something right up my alley when it comes to taste in classics.
One thing I was most interested to find out was how an English woman from the 17th century would write a black man. Now obviously I can't really speak to the authenticity of Oroonoko's depiction. I am not a person of colour myself nor an expert in this particular period of world history, but from my rather uninformed perspective, I can say it was refreshing to at least have a character break the mold when it comes to typical narrative leads of the 1600s. And to add to that, I will give Aphra Behn credit for her seemingly deliberate inclusion of a cast from several different nationalities and backgrounds.
It wasn't without hiccup, though. There are a few remarks surrounding black people that perhaps have not aged well, but you can kind of gloss over those, but then I found out Imoinda was 15 or 16… ew. (Also, her name kind of sounds like "ointment" so in my head she was just "Ointment Lady"... though in hindsight that probably should have been "Ointment Girl".) Yes. Imoinda, the sole love interest of our adult main character, was herself practically a child. Obviously, this obsession authors used to have with romanticising relationships involving underage girls (I say "used to" optimistically) was not exclusively a male issue.
There was one line in particular that made me snort:
Said like a true white person. This review is just turning out to be a pile of personal anecdotes, but this made me think of a story my mum told me about when she was a cook for a lord and lady in England and they wouldn't let her put garlic on anything! Yes! Garlic! Apparently, they thought it was only a French and/or Italian thing, thus beneath them. AND (get this) they didn't like the way the people in France and Italy... smelled. Yes. The French. They thought French smelled. Not only that, they thought the French smelled bad. France, the perfume capital of the world where approximately 30% of the world's perfumes are created! They literally dominate the global perfume business! And these are the people that smell?! And to round it all off, this couple was from London, aka Smog City! That's like someone from Rotorua trying to tell me that Queenstown smells. I don't know, maybe their noses are just defunct after all those years living in an odorous cloud.
So that's it. That's all I have to say about Oroonoko by Aphra Behn. It had some high points, and some low ones, but I fully recognise that I am looking at this through not only a modern lens, but a white modern lens, so I wouldn't put too much weight in my opinion if I were you.
When I was reading this book, I kept getting that Enya song in my head. As in "Orinoco Flow". I sang it with a choir ages ago in primary school and my strongest memory of it is after all those months of practicing, finally when it came to the performance, it was one of the last songs we sang, and I was really tired, so I kind of zoned out and just got stuck singing "Sail away, sail away, sail away" over and over again for who knows how long before I woke up and realised we were past that part. BUT ANYWAY, let's actually get into Oroonoko the book, i.e. what this is all supposed to be about.
My mum bought Oroonoko for me based purely on premise. She read the back, thought "mmm, sounds like something Isabella would like" and got it for me (thanks Mum!). When I myself read the blurb, I agreed - this book sounded like something right up my alley when it comes to taste in classics.
One thing I was most interested to find out was how an English woman from the 17th century would write a black man. Now obviously I can't really speak to the authenticity of Oroonoko's depiction. I am not a person of colour myself nor an expert in this particular period of world history, but from my rather uninformed perspective, I can say it was refreshing to at least have a character break the mold when it comes to typical narrative leads of the 1600s. And to add to that, I will give Aphra Behn credit for her seemingly deliberate inclusion of a cast from several different nationalities and backgrounds.
It wasn't without hiccup, though. There are a few remarks surrounding black people that perhaps have not aged well, but you can kind of gloss over those, but then I found out Imoinda was 15 or 16… ew. (Also, her name kind of sounds like "ointment" so in my head she was just "Ointment Lady"... though in hindsight that probably should have been "Ointment Girl".) Yes. Imoinda, the sole love interest of our adult main character, was herself practically a child. Obviously, this obsession authors used to have with romanticising relationships involving underage girls (I say "used to" optimistically) was not exclusively a male issue.
There was one line in particular that made me snort:
"They served every one their mess [portion of a meal] on these pieces of leaves, and it was very good, but too high-seasoned with pepper."
Said like a true white person. This review is just turning out to be a pile of personal anecdotes, but this made me think of a story my mum told me about when she was a cook for a lord and lady in England and they wouldn't let her put garlic on anything! Yes! Garlic! Apparently, they thought it was only a French and/or Italian thing, thus beneath them. AND (get this) they didn't like the way the people in France and Italy... smelled. Yes. The French. They thought French smelled. Not only that, they thought the French smelled bad. France, the perfume capital of the world where approximately 30% of the world's perfumes are created! They literally dominate the global perfume business! And these are the people that smell?! And to round it all off, this couple was from London, aka Smog City! That's like someone from Rotorua trying to tell me that Queenstown smells. I don't know, maybe their noses are just defunct after all those years living in an odorous cloud.
So that's it. That's all I have to say about Oroonoko by Aphra Behn. It had some high points, and some low ones, but I fully recognise that I am looking at this through not only a modern lens, but a white modern lens, so I wouldn't put too much weight in my opinion if I were you.