![]() It is clear how ripe Carlotta’s situation is for comedy, and Hannaham is brilliantly funny in both plotting and phrasing, as when the narrator describes Carlotta feeling ‘like a brain-damaged African elephant trying to jump into a game of double Dutch’, or when Carlotta engages in a snap-battle with her son, Ibe, culminating in, ‘here you think I’m a ignant fool an a crook-ass tranny bitch, an it turn out I’m a genius who be quotin Shakespeare’. Oh, and the son you’ve dreamed of seeing for so long is pursuing a career in Christian rap and believes that your new self is the work of Satan. ![]() ![]() It sure is, if you’ve spent the last 20 years being systematically abused by those who were meant to be safeguarding you, finally found some semblance of love with a murderous but dreamy inmate named Frenzy, been released back into a drastically altered New York, been given a list of impossible parole stipulations, found that the only person who remembered your release date is a niece you’ve never met, and that your family home is playing host to a drunk orgy of a funeral when you’re not allowed to be around booze or drugs. ![]()
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