Rainbow Milk by Paul Mendez
Review of Rainbow Milk by Paul Mendez
“We leave the Garden of Eden for the Land of Milk and Honey and find Sodom and Gomorrah.”
Rainbow Milk by Paul Mendez (2021). Published by Doubleday Books.
I found this in the new section of my library, as this came out exactly two months ago from the time I’m writing this review (y’all will probably be reading this in December, that’s how far in advance I schedule my content). I was originally intrigued by the cover, which was in neon-like scribbles with a man’s bare back. But as I opened the cover and specifically read what this what book was about, it had me hooked immediately. I was particularly intrigued about the story of the Jamaican immigrant to England in the 1950s, because that was a narrative I haven’t really read about. I wanted to minor in college in Caribbean Studies, but never actually got the chance to, so stories of the Caribbean diaspora and post-colonialism are something I’ve been trying to educate myself more in.
This was a beautifully intersectional novel. Our two main characters, although we focus on Jesse more, teach us a little more about the world they live in. Jesse, in the early 2000s, is a gay Black man who has run away from the Jehovah’s Witness community he grew up in and has started over in London as a sex worker. Meanwhile, we start with the narrative of his grandfather, who has moved to England from Jamaica in pursuit of a better life. These are critically important narratives, which is why I’m shocked that I had never heard of this novel until now.
With that said, let’s dive straight into this review.
Content
The first sixty pages of this novel is told in the eyes of Norman Alonso, who has immigrated to Britain with his pregnant wife Colette. They imagine that England will be like the way they imagined it: clean, full of life and opportunities, a completely different lifestyle than what they had back in Jamaica. And, as they step off the train, they see it. But then they arrive to where the Blacks live and discover the dark, racist underbelly of British society at the time. This section is beautiful and vivid, told in a mix of patois and natural dialect that flavors Alonso’s story. It adds a sense of realism, a touch of intimacy, to the story of Alonso.
We then switch into the story of Jesse, Alonso’s grandson. Nothing has changed much in the fifty years that Alonso first came to Britain. There’s still a lot of racism, and Jesse is stuck in the same black, coal-covered city that Alonso and Colette once felt dread at seeing. There’s a big difference here: Jesse is a member of the Jehovah’s Witnesses and is very gay. Once kicked out of his home once discovered, he becomes a sex worker in London. There’s something disturbing about Jesse’s upbringing though: he has been taught to worship white people and he doesn’t actually see himself as black.
This is a captivating book. I found myself flying through it and couldn’t put it down because of how riveting the story and writing was. Both narrators have distinctly different stories, but even the way they’re told seamlessly transitions between the two. There are some moments where I found that the book lagged and it couldn’t been cut about sixty pages or two, but I didn’t mind this aspect too much. I cared so much about the characters that I didn’t care about how it lagged, I just wanted to know if they’ll be happy and find good conclusion to their story.
Overall Thoughts
It’s insane to me that this is a debut novel because of how much of a force it was. At times the detail can be searingly painful, and you want to look away, but you can’t. You need to know how the characters will continue onwards and survive in this cruel world full of pain and hardship. Doing some research, Jesse’s part seems so real because it’s the author’s actual experience; he is a gay Jamaican immigrant to Britain who was also a former Jehovah’s witness. At times the racism is subtle, but it’s still there and impossible to miss once you spot it. Well done, Mendez, well done.
