Saga Boy

A Black immigrant journeys from the Caribbean to Canada—and through multiple musical personas—in a "deeply moving" memoir "suffused with poetic prose" (Publishers Weekly, starred review).

As a clever, willful boy in a tiny village in the tropical forests of Trinidad—raised by his indomitable grandmother, Miss Excelly, and her King James Bible—Antonio Michael Downing is steeped in the legacies of his scattered family, the vibrant culture of the island, and the weight of its colonial history. But after Miss Excelly's death, everything changes. The eleven-year-old seems to fall asleep in the jungle and wake up in a blizzard: he is sent to live with his devoutly evangelical Aunt Joan in rural Canada, where they are the only Black family in a landscape starkly devoid of the warm lushness of his childhood.


Isolated and longing for home, Downing begins a decades-long journey to transform himself through music and performance. A reunion with his birth parents, whom he's known only through story, closes more doors than it opens. Instead, Downing seeks refuge in increasingly extravagant musical personalities: "Mic Dainjah," a boisterous punk rapper; "Molasses," a soul crooner; and, finally, an eccentric dystopian-era pop star clad in leather and gold, "John Orpheus." In his mid-thirties, increasingly addicted to escapism, attention, and sex, Downing realizes he has become a "Saga Boy"—a Trinidadian playboy archetype—like his father and grandfather before him. When his choices land him in a jail cell, Downing must face who he has become.


"Lush language and sensory details make the fascinating events of this memoir pop. An authentic, entertaining, and timely account of a creative immigrant's experiences." —Booklist

"Downing's elegant, engaging memoir will have particular significance to readers from the Caribbean diaspora, but it will be understood by any reader who has ever had their world suddenly upended and needed to make it whole again." —Library Journal

"A rich memoir about how far some folks have to travel just to arrive where they began." —Minneapolis Star Tribune