Book Review - Black Bazaar

Despite his straitened circumstances, Buttologist prides himself on his sense of style. He's a snappy dresser, favouring crocodile-skin Westons and tailor-made Italian suits. He's also an aspiring writer and buys a second-hand typewriter, "because I wanted to be like a real writer who rips up pages, crosses things out, and has to interrupt his creative flow in order to change the... ribbon."
Buttologist is still mourning the loss of his girlfriend who has returned to Congo Brazzaville with their infant daughter and an African drummer nicknamed the Hybrid because "he looks like a primate who narrowly missed out on evolving into a human." He also has to contend with the racist remarks of his Martiniquais neighbour, Mr Hippocratic, who regularly extols the virtues of colonialism.
On the advice of his Haitian writer friend, Buttologist starts to keep a diary to express and learn from his conflicted feelings. As well as venting his spleen about his girlfriend's betrayal, he records gossip from the bar, debates about whether the Whites were slavers or saviours, his run-ins with his neighbour, encounters with women, memories of his childhood and meditations on corruption in post-colonial Africa.
Black Bazaar is less defined by plot and more about Buttologist's reactions to people, places and events. It features an array of unforgettable characters, from Jip's coarse, sardonic barflies to the sympathetic "Arab on the corner", who likes to begin his conversations by quoting the poet Aimé Césaire: "For too long the West has force-fed us lies and bloated us with pestilence..."

Originally published in the Independent on 4 August 2012