Today I write as a 31-year-old black British male living in London. Like many others, my grandma came over from Jamaica in the late 1950s, and so I suppose I’m what’s considered third generation. For myself and those of similar ‘dual heritage’, it seems we’re in time of trying to identify ourselves – not feeling all the way British whilst at the same time feeling some distance from our proverbial ‘homeland’.
What books such as Reni Eddo-Lodge’s, Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race, or Afua Hirsch’s, Brit-ish, or David Olusuga’s Black and British seem to evidence is that there exists a growing collective effort from black writers, journalists and academics working to bear representation on what exactly it means to be black British.
We’re in time of trying to identify ourselves, not feeling all the way British whilst at the same time feeling some distance from our ‘homeland‘
No definitive answer has been concluded, however I think we are now in a time in which the underlying assumption and/or overtly negative representation (along with the subsequent discussion and debate) of black people as inherently criminal, malicious and pityingly unfortunate are now beyond tedium.
And whilst these pervasive representations do bear significant and serious consequence (if only to the subconscious mind) it’s difficult to imagine any thoughtful or considerate person being duped by such narrative.
My personal consensus (and contention towards those who disagree) is that ‘black British’ is composed of whatever the people who identify as black British choose to contribute and/or represent.
Reflecting this viewpoint, this platform is, in a sense, an experiment in compilation to determine the configurations of exactly what it means to be black British. This is to say that the term or concept requires no definition. Which is to say that the contributions made to this space will, in of themselves, represent black Britain.
black British is composed of whatever the people who identify as black British choose to contribute or represent. This is to say the term requires no definition
The focus of this platform is literature, on what has come before, alongside the current developments of what’s happening right now. What one finds in the established British Canon, as far as black people are concerned, is a largely empty space, the narrative neither disparaging nor positive but rather non-existent.
What one finds in the British Canon as far as black people are concerned is a largely empty space.
And so a few years ago I set about my search. Looking back I often think I began too niche – Googling black British Caribbean male fiction was perhaps bound to offer a menial return (is ‘male fiction’ even a thing?).
Falling back on black British literature as my starting point, what I began to discover was a plethora of black writers who had been representing their experience here in Britain long before my grandma arrived on her shore.
The reasons why these authors were, and still are, not readily accessible to the reading public is a discussion to be held in future. What’s important is that they now have a space.
The intention behind this page is threefold; our aim is to develop, curate and promote black British literature in all its forms in a sustained effort to create an open space for critical and creative exploration, for both the authors of the past and those of the future.
Margin Page.
Margins Page is a play on its very words. Stories of black people in Britain, both past and present, have often been relegated to the margins of the British canon. This platform attempts to reconfigure this position, serving as a page to help develop, curate and promote black British literature.
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marginspage.com 