fair skins and who smelled only of lavender,or sometimes sweet pea or primrose.And those flowers with those names:delphiniums,foxgloves,tulips,daffodils,floribunda,peonies;in bloom,a striking display,being cut and placed in large glass bowls,crystal,decorating rooms so large twenty families the size of mine could fit in comfortably but used only for passing through.And the weather was so remarkable because the rain fell gently always,only occasionally in deep gusts,and it colored the air various shades of gray,each an appealing shade for a dress to be worn when a portrait was being painted;and when it rained at twilight, wonderful things happened:people bumped into each other unexpectedly and that would lead to all sorts of turns of events-a plot,the mere weather caused plots.I saw that people rushed: they rushed to catch trains,they rushed toward each other and away from each other;they rushed and rushed and rushed.That word:rushed!I did not know what it was to do that.It was too hot to do that,and so I came to envy people who would rush,even though it had no meaning to me to do such a thing.But there they are again.They loved their children;their children were sent to their own rooms as a punishment,rooms larger than my entire house. They were special,everything about them said so,even their clothes;their clothes rustled, swished,soothed.The world was theirs,not mine;everything told me so. 7 If now as I speak of all this I give the impression of someone on the outside looking in, nose pressed up against a glass window,that is wrong.My nose was pressed up against a glass window all right,but there was an iron vise at the back of my neck forcing my head to stay in place.To avert my gaze was to fall back into something from which I had been rescued,a hole filled with nothing,and that was the word for everything about me,nothing. The reality of my life was conquests,subjugation,humiliation,enforced amnesia.I was forced to forget.Just for instance,this:I lived in a part of St.John's,Antigua,called Ovals. Ovals was made up of five streets,each of them named after a famous English seaman--to be quite frank,an officially sanctioned criminal:Rodney Street (after George Rodney5), Nelson Street (after Horatio Nelson),Drake Street (after Francis Drake?),Hood Street,and Hawkins Street (after John Hawkins).But John Hawkins was knighted after a trip he made to Africa,opening up a new trade,the slave trade.He was then entitled to wear as his crest a Negro bound with a cord.Every single person living on Hawkins Street was descended from a slave.John Hawkins's ship,the one in which he transported the people he had bought and kidnapped,was called The Jesus.He later became the treasurer of the Royal Navy and rear admiral. 8 Again,the reality of my life,the life I led at the time I was being shown these views of England for the first time,for the second time,for the one-hundred-millionth time,was this: the sun shone with what sometimes seemed to be a deliberate cruelty;we must have done something to deserve that.My dresses did not rustle in the evening air as I strolled to the theater (I had no evening,I had no theater;my dresses were made of a cheap cotton,the weave of which would give way after not too many washings).I got up in the morning,I did my chores (fetched water from the public pipe for my mother,swept the yard),I washed myself,I went to a woman to have my hair combed freshly every day (because before wefair skins and who smelled only of lavender, or sometimes sweet pea or primrose. And those flowers with those names: delphiniums, foxgloves, tulips, daffodils, floribunda, peonies; in bloom, a striking display, being cut and placed in large glass bowls, crystal, decorating rooms so large twenty families the size of mine could fit in comfortably but used only for passing through. And the weather was so remarkable because the rain fell gently always, only occasionally in deep gusts, and it colored the air various shades of gray, each an appealing shade for a dress to be worn when a portrait was being painted; and when it rained at twilight, wonderful things happened: people bumped into each other unexpectedly and that would lead to all sorts of turns of events—a plot, the mere weather caused plots. I saw that people rushed: they rushed to catch trains, they rushed toward each other and away from each other; they rushed and rushed and rushed. That word: rushed! I did not know what it was to do that. It was too hot to do that, and so I came to envy people who would rush, even though it had no meaning to me to do such a thing. But there they are again. They loved their children; their children were sent to their own rooms as a punishment, rooms larger than my entire house. They were special, everything about them said so, even their clothes; their clothes rustled, swished, soothed. The world was theirs, not mine; everything told me so. 7 If now as I speak of all this I give the impression of someone on the outside looking in, nose pressed up against a glass window, that is wrong. My nose was pressed up against a glass window all right, but there was an iron vise at the back of my neck forcing my head to stay in place. To avert my gaze was to fall back into something from which I had been rescued, a hole filled with nothing, and that was the word for everything about me, nothing. The reality of my life was conquests, subjugation, humiliation, enforced amnesia. I was forced to forget. Just for instance, this: I lived in a part of St. John’s, Antigua, called Ovals. Ovals was made up of five streets, each of them named after a famous English seaman —- to be quite frank, an officially sanctioned criminal: Rodney Street (after George Rodney 5), Nelson Street (after Horatio Nelson 6), Drake Street (after Francis Drake 7), Hood Street, and Hawkins Street (after John Hawkins 8). But John Hawkins was knighted after a trip he made to Africa, opening up a new trade, the slave trade. He was then entitled to wear as his crest a Negro bound with a cord. Every single person living on Hawkins Street was descended from a slave. John Hawkins’s ship, the one in which he transported the people he had bought and kidnapped, was called The Jesus. He later became the treasurer of the Royal Navy and rear admiral. 8 Again, the reality of my life, the life I led at the time I was being shown these views of England for the first time, for the second time, for the one-hundred-millionth time, was this: the sun shone with what sometimes seemed to be a deliberate cruelty; we must have done something to deserve that. My dresses did not rustle in the evening air as I strolled to the theater (I had no evening, I had no theater; my dresses were made of a cheap cotton, the weave of which would give way after not too many washings). I got up in the morning, I did my chores (fetched water from the public pipe for my mother, swept the yard), I washed myself, I went to a woman to have my hair combed freshly every day (because before we