["Praisesong for the Widow"] rings with the same music and some of the same lilting Barbadian speech [as "Brown Girl, Brownstones"], but it is a firmer book, obviously the product of a more experienced writer. It lacks the soft spots of the earlier work. From the first paragraph, it moves purposefully and knowledgeably toward its final realization.
The widow of the title is Avey Johnson, black and middle aged, decorous to a fault in her tasteful dress, her long-line girdle and her underarm shields. The praisesong is performed by a group of dancing natives on the tiny island of Carriacou, and how Avey Johnson comes to be there—how she leaves her luxurious cruise ship and her two staid women friends—is a story that's both convincing and eerily dreamlike….
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