![]() ![]() ![]() And there, in Pride and Prejudice, I found what I wanted to know. I had just turned twelve and my body was changing rapidly into adulthood, fanning my curiosity about the birds and the bees. Then someone gave me a copy of Pride and Prejudice and I finally read the book that made me a reader for life. Television had not yet come to Trinidad and the offerings at the cinema were limited, so I depended on words to recreate in my imagination situations and places that I could not see with my physical eye. Fighting to have my voice heard in my cramped world of ten siblings, the smart young detectives in Blyton’s novels were a source of hope: If they could make their voices heard, then maybe, just maybe, one day, when I grow up….īlyton’s novels opened a wide world to me. I loved the thrill of following the adventures of girls and boys my age who solved problems that baffled adults. When I was an elementary schoolchild, I devoured the novels of the English mystery writer Enid Blyton. I grew up in colonial Trinidad, my education similar to that of a British public school, excellent, but clearly intended to reinforce the superiority of the British Empire. ![]()
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