A New York Times article about a new anthology of Jamaican writing published by a US press gets Geoffrey Philp thinking about why North Americans may not be as open to Caribbean writing as their British counterparts: “The reader has to be willing to shed notions of what is and what is not and enter the world of the Caribbean artist where all those crickets are chirping, frogs are croaking, the surf is tumbling, and my God, who knows what kind of Black people will pop out of the bush while you are here on the beach naked as they day you were born.”