In \A New World Order"" Caryl Phillips harnesses the power of the essay to find some common ground in a planet with scattered foundations. He breaks down his work into essays that address the works of artists from the United States, Africa, the Caribbean and Britain. Phillips is able to criss-cross the Atlantic with a quick understanding of the struggles of Africans at home and abroad.
The introduction drops Phillips into an airport in Ghana, standing on the concrete in the land of his ancestors. He soon goes on to explain his youngest days in a link of the chain in the Lesser Antilles, the island of St. Kitts. Phillips grew up in the town of Leeds, England, but has now settled comfortably in New York City.
Because of his worldly upbringing, easy eloquence and comprehensive review of every artist he touches, Phillips' book is engaging and illuminating. The essays take in the times and places that have forged the people whose works encapsulate the African experience.
The United States is the first specimen under Phillips microscope. Richard Wright's ""Native Son"" and James Baldwin's ""Giovanni's Room"" are cut apart with the a steady pen and sharp words. Phillips's observation of the career of Marvin Gaye is somewhat unsettling. It seems that the deceased singer and his generation of African-American entertainers is defined precisely by their lack of Sexual Healing.
For all of its possibility in such a collection, Africa is lacking in volume. A mere four essays and introduction is all that defines the continent's literature. Nadine Gordimer and Wole Soyinka are the two loudest voices from the South Africa and Nigeria, respectively. Their works mention truth and reconciliation for their nations, but the strongest statement is that ""Africa needs ... critical self-analysis and intellectually rigorous minds ... to dissect the past and suggest a future.""
The Caribbean section is dominated by a single author while allowing enough room for others. In Phillips' 40-page dissection of V.S. Naipaul, the distance between the intellectual elite and the people they try to define becomes apparent.
While Phillips is boldly critical of the Booker Prize-winning native of Trinidad, he is careful not to overstate his importance next to such authors as Derek Walcott and Jamaica Kincaid. These authors, along with Naipaul, raise the identity of the Caribbean islands far higher than their soaring volcanic peaks.
The final quarter of the book takes on Phillips' musings of Britain without the veneer of nostalgia. Linton Kwesi Johnson and Ignatius Sancho are shown to define the African in Britain not as a minority, but as a Brit. They speak about the countries they came from only to contrast it with the country they are now a part of.
This assertion of identity cannot be overstated, and instead may fade to a whimper without the constant shouts of the African diaspora's artists. It is identity that carries ""A New World Order"" from cover to cover. Phillips mentions the country of each person's origin and talks about how that place contributed to his or her works. While the question, ""Where did you come from?"" carries enormous weight, the inquiry, ""Where are you going?"" may lift it.
