ZONG! : BOOK REVIEW
Some of the most tragic, bizarre, and deeply disturbing stories are left out of history books for us to discover on our own. I don’t believe that it should be that way, but I still find myself discovering books like Zong! as I grow older and further removed from my primary and secondary education. Zong! by M. Nourbese Philip, as told to the author by Setaey Adamu Boateng, a representative of the ancestors affected, is a book-length poetic recapturing that uncovers the complex truth behind the Zong slave ship of 1781. The captains of the ship ordered as many as 150 Africans to be thrown overboard and drowned when the voyage took longer than expected and the resources were slim. The intent was to claim insurance money for the loss, as this would not have been possible if the Africans had passed from natural causes. Zong! splits apart this tragic turn of events, allowing us as readers to peer inside the truth and gather what we may from its presentation.
In writing the book, Philip primarily consulted the legal documents from the related court case combined with ancestral retellings, but the words are almost unrecognizable. Reading Zong! is not easy. It is an experience as much as it is a book: confusing, untrustworthy, finicky, and frustrating. The book opens with a page consisting of almost entirely w’s and various other consonant sounds spread across the page, reminiscent of the water that surrounded the Zong and eventually took the lives of many Africans on the slave ship. As you turn the pages, these consonant sounds come together and crystallize into words, words crystallize into ideas, and just as you begin to uncover some truth, Philip breaks apart the narrative yet again, forcing the reader to begin anew piecing the puzzle together. I found myself wanting so badly to put the book down and give up, but never did for too long. Truth is not easy to come by. Each time, I dove back in with renewed resolve, determined to honor the lives that were lost.
Somehow, Philip manages to capture the feeling of being in a crowd among many, combined with the isolation of being at sea. The words on the page don’t take turns vying for my attention, yet I find it difficult to understand what each is trying to tell me. Only when I view the page as a whole does the experience feel complete. The meandering manner in which my eyes traveled across the page, reading the words and sounds, felt like excavating a fossil. I could never dig up too much all at once, and if I did, I would lose the shape of the fossil, the memory.
Philip presents a unique opportunity for the reader to interact with a simulation of a primary source. We are allowed to make sense of the words, sounds, and ideas free from outside judgement and bias. She takes us on board the Zong to learn about what happened for ourselves. I felt a sense of melancholy as I realized this, thinking about the mass graves of indigenous children being recently uncovered after so many years. Philip gave the Africans who perished aboard the Zong the respect they deserved at every step of the way, writing in such a way that we as readers are forced to do the same. How long will it take us to afford all people the rights they deserve as human beings while they are still alive? How many more atrocities are being swept under the rug as I read about this one?
M. Nourbese Philip’s care in presenting Zong! as a respectful, commanding, and truthful poetic presentation of what may have occurred on board the Zong is admirable. Each idea, each word, each letter, has a place on the page, even if it may not be where you expect it to be, and they all come together to command the readers’ attention.