A Small Place

A Small Place Symbols, Allegory and Motifs

Japanese Cars

One of the first symbols that appears in this text is the nice Japanese car driven by the taxi driver, taking "you," the tourist, to your resort from the airport. These cars are prevalent throughout the island, and even though tourists will not understand their significance, they are prominent symbols of Antigua's corruption. Kincaid explains that the luxury car dealerships are government-owned on the island, and as such, the government has implemented a moneymaking scheme that allows Antiguans to take out cheap car loans. These loans are not similarly available for houses, so many Antiguans will drive a nice car but live in a dilapidated place. As with all corruption schemes on the island, this situation heavily favors the government.

The Library

The sign on Antigua's old library has said "Repairs are Pending" since it was damaged in the earthquake of 1974. Since then, however, no repairs have been made. This library is a symbol of the ragged transition between colonialism and modern Antigua; the remains of Antiguan's colonial past are still there, just like this old library building still stands. However, all of the corruption and struggle in modern Antigua prevents them from overcoming this past and turning it into something new that they can claim for their own. As long as the old library remains in disrepair, Antigua's colonial past will still cast a dark shadow on its present.

The Mill Reef Club

The Mill Reef Club is the most prominent symbol of encroachment by tourists from North America and Europe. According to Kincaid, it was "built by some people from North America who wanted to live in Antigua and spend their holidays in Antigua but who seemed not to like Antiguans (black people) at all." The only Antiguans allowed at the Mill Reef Club are servants, and the people who run the club actively look down on all of them even though they are strangers in their country.

Slavery

A Small Place is underlaid by a permanent motif of slavery, that starts off subtle in the beginning and escalates at the end of the text. Slavery has been part of Antiguan identity for hundreds of years, and though they were technically emancipated long ago, the vestiges of slave and master still remain in modern Antigua. Kincaid does not attempt to conceal or sugarcoat this element of Antigua's past; instead, she speaks about it loudly and critically, and its recurring presence ensures that readers will take notice.

Antigua's Natural Surroundings

The beautiful nature on Antigua—the crystal water, white sand, blue sky, and lush green—represent concealment, for they are able to hide the true nature of corruption, suffering, and struggle that local Antiguans face as they put on this beautiful front to please the tourists who visit. Kincaid points out that it is hard to live in a place that looks so seemingly perfect and never changes, while you yourself feel as if there is so much wrong.