158 KIM ROBINSON WALCOTT from the former and in a constant struggle for survival with the latter. Critically, when Busha exclaims in court: My grand-daddy built that house, not me! My great-great-great-grand-daddy buy dat land... I didn't buy it... I was born into it. Did I ask to be born into it? .. I don't take nothing from anybody. I never trouble anybody! Dese damn people break me house and nearly kill me ... and why? Because it's my fault to be born! Dat's reason enough to kill a man? (201) It is a painful moment, reminding one of a similar moment in the short story "McGregor's Journey" written by the near-white Guyanese writer Pauline Melville, when a disapproving black crowd cuts short a rare, meaningful and totally innocent connection between the white McGregor and a black woman: "Later that night, the police arrested a man.... He was smashing shop windows .... As the glass exploded in each one, he yelled: 'I want you to know that I never owned a fucking slave in my life. Never.'" 28 There is no simplistic black and white of innocence and guilt in the question of blacks versus whites. Life is unfair. Life is hard. "De times hard on every man" (28). So that while The Lunatic is on one level a story of the triumph of good over evil, its more powerful message is one of life's ambiguities; and of the necessity of compassion, compromise and conciliation in the face of such ambiguities. "We all owe life and love to one anodder" (224). Winkler's refusal to condemn Busha totally to the role of villain in this novel is a gesture of such compassion; a small echo of the compassion which Aloysius shows in his own refusal to condemn Busha, his own refusal to embrace hatred, greed and death over love, charity and life. Winkler's black protagonist provides upliftment and cause for hope in a lunatic Jamaican society. And the success of Winkler's depiction disturbs stereotypical perceptions of the exclusivity of the white West Indian identity held by nonwhite West Indians. Notwithstanding any current trends in Caribbean intellectual thought towards the Utopian notion of creolitd, race seems to matter more than ever in our Caribbean society, and the divisions based on ethnicity/race/class widen steadily. Nevertheless, starting tentatively with Rhys and moving with increasing certainty through Mendes, Mais, more recently Antoni, and most especially Winkler, these white West Indian writers break through such divisions and transcend the limitations imposed on them by history, choosing not to take the imperial road; and ultimately these writers give one hope of the eventual possibility of a creole cohesion. 28 Pauline Melville, Shape-shifter (London: The Women's Press, 1990. London: Picador- Pan Books, 1991) 98.