Breathless, scorching ... A gripping tale of fundamentalism and the light of rebellion piercing through its cracks. Critiques of colonial and patriarchal violence weave throughout, made all the more scathing by Sinclair’s patient understatement ... While the memoir’s conclusion explodes with urgency, it lacks Sinclair’s slow-brewed sagacity. History catches up with her, and not enough years have passed for wisdom to surface. I was startled by the finale — was all her searing testimony in service of Djani’s redemption? I had to put the book down, walk away. With a bit of distance, I came to feel that the center of this book was its matriarch ... Sinclair can craft a luscious sentence.
Lushly observed and keenly reflective ... I read How to Say Babylon with particular interest, unsure I would recognize my homeland in what she captures. Yet the spark of recognition burned in every chapter. That is a testament to a distinctive national character, but even more to Sinclair’s kaleidoscopic writing. I’ve never learned more from a book about my native country ... [A] brilliant memoir ... The book grabs the reader because of the beauty of its words, but it sticks because of the thorniness and complexity of its ideas ... Unrelenting and incisive.
This memoir is a melodious wave of memories and interrogations that illustrates Sinclair's skill as both a poet and a storyteller ... Getting through How to Say Babylon can be a challenge in some areas, where the story lags. But the juice is worth the squeeze. Sinclair is a wonderful writer. The magical way she strings sentences together, on its own, is reason enough to indulge in this memoir 10 years in the making ... Poignant.
As much a story of hard-fought survival as it is an artistic coming-of-age tale ... Sinclair’s prose etches the surrounding ecosystems, and the histories that birthed those disparate landscapes, into her intricate family portrait ... Sinclair’s deep dives into Jamaican history reflect both collective grief and reverie. Memoir is a craft of relentless observation, and the author’s wondrous, studied descriptions of the world around her make How to Babylon feel expansive ... Directly acknowledges the immense emotional toll of its eventual writing, and the book is better for that transparency.
It would be easy to think Sinclair’s eventual escape was inevitable. It was anything but. Time and again she tells of utter despair, of sinking into depression and of feeling worthless. It is a testimony to her brothers and sisters, her mother and aunt and her own sense of self that she found a way to nurture her creativity, mining the strength she needed to disobey her father and come into her own.
Sinclair writes of a chaotic yet magical childhood ... She channeled her father’s rage at the injustices of Babylon into her own shimmering tapestries of words.
Striking ... Her complex feelings of loyalty to her family and deep desire to explore the world beyond her island, known as Babylon by her father, permeates Sinclair’s beautifully written and insightful narrative. A radiant story of family and self-discovery told through the sharp eye of a talented poet.
With unparalleled lyricism and a command of language only a poet could possess, How to Say Babylon: A Memoir recounts Safiya Sinclair’s life as a Rastafarian child raised under the oppressive and patriarchal rule of her father ... Contemplates matters of race and religion, of class and equality, of identity and womanhood, through an unforgettable voice that’s unflinchingly raw and powerful ... With the very best elements of both on display, How to Say Babylon is truly a poet’s memoir. A story of Black womanhood that grips the reader through its obvious feat of craft and its captivating storytelling, the style of Sinclair’s work is utterly unique.
