Pocomania
Una Marson’s play Pocomania sets two important Caribbean religions, the “traditional” Christianity and a revivalist Pukkumina, in direct contrast with one another. It starts a conversation about what is “accepted” vs. what isn’t in Jamaican culture. From the beginning, Stella was drawn to the practices of Pukkumina and feels that the drums, an integral aspect of these rituals, are calling to her; however, it is clear in conversation with her sister, Dawn, that this is not something that is supposed to catch her attention. Their father, described as “a stern Baptist deacon”, directly opposes it.
However, Stella remains adamant on fueling her fascination and maintains a positive relationship with Sister Kate, the revivalist leader and a member of the church. They discuss the nature of the rituals and drumming during the revival ceremonies in detail. Despite her positive influence on the community surrounding Pukkumina, Sister Kate was asked to leave the church due to conflicts of their beliefs. In the end, Sister Kate dies, and along with her, so does Stella’s fascination with Pukkumina, implying that Sister Kate was the spirit of the religious practices.
Meanwhile, throughout the entire story there is an intensely obvious gender disparity that directly relates to the conflict between Christianity and Pukkumina. While the men, namely Deacon Manners and David, both oppose the practices and Stella’s fascination, the women are seen as foolish for believing in such things. This is shown most heartbreakingly when Stella can only be with the man she loves, David, after no longer feeling a pull towards Pukkumina, which once held so much importance within her.
In this play, Una Marson seems to be attempting to bridge the gap between Christianity and a spirituality that is so often looked down upon. While it does show that these two religious affiliations are equally important and can coexist without conflict, the ending depicts the reality of the ever-present distinct separations among each. It gives the reader a snapshot of the possibility of living in harmony, while still depicting an accurate account of the never-ending battle between gender and religion in Jamaica.
Wharf Rats
The theme of religious disparity continues in a story called Wharf Rats, from Eric Walrond’s book Tropic Death, in his contrast of strict Catholicism and Obeah. It is immediately obvious that Obeah is meant to be depicted as evil, whereas Catholicism is meant to be the “right” religion. Walrond depicts this by creating two characters that are seemingly incarnations of each religion they represent: Jean Baptiste as the perfect 
Catholic and his servant, Maffi, as the embodiment of Obeah. Throughout the story it becomes more clear that religion frames your identity in that Jean Baptiste, a black man, did not seem to know much about his culture, which was reflected in the children he raised, Philip and Ernest. While Catholicism is depicted as “correct”, it also shows the impact that European colonialism had on the people of the Caribbean—a loss of who they are. In contrast, Maffi was very rooted in her culture and seemed to know exactly who she was and where she came from. She had a deep sense of history surrounding her character.
In the actions of the children, it enacts this ongoing battle between Catholicism and Obeah. Philip and Ernest continuously go down to the water to swim and dive for coins. While Jean Baptiste does not approve, they continue to do this regardless. In the end, this results in Philip’s death by shark attack, and the reader gets a very mysterious sense that Maffi found happiness in this, perpetuation the stereotype that Obeah stands for evil.
I, Tituba: Black Witch of Salem
Maryse Condé’s I, Tituba, tells the story of a West Indian slave girl who was accused of”witch craft” during the Salem Witch Trials in the late 17th century. Condé’s novel champions Obeah as a spirituality that provides deliverance from the evils of racism and sexual abuse spawned from the institution of slavery. Obeah is presented as a spirituality that fortifies the human spirit by way of satirizing the religious institution that was responsible for having maligned its reputation, namely Puritanical Christianity.
Brown Girl in the Ring
Nalo Hopkinson’s Brown Girl in the Ring, depicts a tale of inner-city devastation set in a futuristic and dystopian Downtown Toronto. Hopkinson`s gripping afro-futuristic fiction is a drama that illustrates the struggle between good and evil in the face of poverty. 
Obeah, is represented in two capacities in Hopkinson`s work, and, as a result is portrayed as a multidimensional spirituality that has the potential to be use for good or bad. The novel`s heroin, Ti-Jeanne endeavors to dictate her own fate, and calls upon the spirits of her ancestors to help guide and protect her from the evil machinations of the novel`s villain, and bonafide street urchin, Rudy. The power play between Rudy and Ti-Jeanne underscores true to life struggles faced by strong, empowered, autonomous women who think for themselves. The dynamics at play in the novel express a relationship of the interconnectedness that exits amongst and between family, ancestral heritage, spiritual, political and socio-economic status.
Supplemental Texts
The article, “What Obeah Does Do: Healing Harm and the Limits of Religion” in the Journal of Africana Religions explains Obeah`s harm as a scholarly false conscious. Brenton Crosson, the article`s author, provides a historical overview of Obeah in which he explains colonial ordinances and broadly defines Obeah as “any assumption of supernatural power.” The focus of the article harkens back to a time when the practice of Obeah was a crime in Trinidad in 2000 and provides analysis on the laws that continue to make Obeah a punishable offense in most of the anglophone law.
Additionally, the article describes the attitudes held by contemporary scholars toward Obeah, which, as Crosson contends is “a hard-to-define term that is largely negative and implies spiritual harm.” Crosson`s article contends that Obeah is a justice making technology and acknowledges that, like all systems of law, the potential for harm is a part of its power. The crux of the article ultimately defends Obeah as a model for a counter discourse on social relations or “altered solidarities” that “challenges regnant conceptions of religion as the basis for legal recognition in modern states.”
The Book of Obeah was written by an Italian-born writer, Sandra Carrington-Smith. Smith`s novel is a story of paranormal suspense in which a young girl must travel with her Grandmother`s ashes to Southern Louisiana. Seemingly, this book makes for interesting supplement to our class texts and can serve as a subject of analysis. Studying how Smith, an author whose heritage has no connection to the Caribbean, articulates ancestry in the context of Obeah and diasporic dynamics will develop an understanding of how Obeah is perceived and understood outside the safe space of our classroom.
Despite his reputation as Costa Rica’s leading novelist, Quince Duncan remains one of the least studied writers, let alone Caribbean writers. The Eve/ Hagar Paradigm is a well-researched book that builds on existing scholarship and is premised on Duncan’s own notion of “Afro-realism,” as well as the insights of folklorists, historians, and recent feminist thinkers.
Martin-Ogunsola`s project endeavors to “illuminate” the ‘black holes’ of contemporary Spanish American fiction and focuses on the social construction of gender identity, an understudied issue in Afro-Hispanic literary criticism.
Martin-Ogunsola assertions in the text are “likely to spark debates about the status of Afro-Hispanic texts within the literary canon,” as she contends that “there is a difference between an African-descended author whose culture informs his works and one who is pigeonholed by the Eurocentric imagination.” Although this book is primarily concerned with Costa Rica it discusses Pukumina in the context of a fictionalized historical narrative that takes place in the early years of the twentieth century. Our class may be interested in this fictional rebellion as it illustrates some of the major conflicts that inevitably develop from government efforts to find a place for English- language Caribbean-heritage black people in a Spanish-speaking society that defined itself as “white.”
Above is a photo of Poet Laureate Dr Roi Ankhkara Kwabena ( 1956-2008).
Dr. Kwabena was born in Port of Spain, Trinidad and was a cultural activist who was renowned for his use of critical analysis to examine the historical roots of racism and his assessments that underscored how history bears relevance on contemporary society.
Dr. Kwabena graces our page with his spiritual presence because he authored “Deep Obeah,” a musical spoken word poem that, “expresses his own sense of frustration with the almost radioactive accumulation of global injustice” and “shock waves that…render life on this planet increasingly toxic and increasingly impossible for many if not most.” “Deep Obeah” symbolically turns to obeah, as a “sorcery” that “brings events beyond one’s control more into alignment with a desire for a better future.”
Below is a link to an animated adaptation of Dr. Kwabena`poem “Deep Obeah.”
~Lauren Vélez
The Classics of Caribbean Literature 