In the Caribbean, only a few performers would classify themselves as “storytellers”. But wherever two people meet and tell each other about their family problems, about the cricket or baseball or soccer game last night, about the traffic cop who stopped them speeding last week, or about their impending medical operation – that is storytelling, at its most elemental. The calypsonian, the politician, the priest and the rapper are essential storytellers too. The stories they tell reinforce traditions, explode myths, explain our lives and our history, celebrate the living and the dead, provide enjoyment and laughter. It is the most ancient of arts, as old as mankind.Īnd storytellers and their audiences come in all shapes and ages, in all languages and techniques. Afterwards, they fire intense questions about the rivers in Guyana, and where is Guyana, and are the alligators there the same as the Florida alligators?īack in the Caribbean, a full house of adults is roaring an unsolicited chorus: “Who tell him say dat!” They’re responding to master storyteller Paul Keens-Douglas, who has his listeners eating from the palm of his hand.Īnywhere, anytime and everywhere, storytelling strikes chords of memory, curiosity, intrigue: a whole world of wonderment. They’re in a primary school somewhere in the corn-belt of midwest America, listening to a West Indian telling them the story of how Compere monkey tricked Brer Alligator. Thirty 10-year-olds are sitting on the floor with their eyes wide in rapt attention, enthralled.
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