It can sometimes be difficult for people on the outside of an abusive relationship to understand why someone would remain in such a dangerous situation. Books such as “When I Hit You” and “In the Dream House” have provided dynamic points of view exploring this question which encompasses much more than toxic romance. Factors such as money, gender, culture, religion, sexuality and psychology all play into why someone doesn't simply leave their home after being degraded, hit and/or raped. Alethea, the protagonist of Lisa Allen-Agostini's novel “The Bread the Devil Knead”, gives another important viewpoint. She's a Trinidadian woman who manages a clothing boutique in Port of Spain. She's about to turn forty and she has lived with Leo for over five years. He's a former locally-famous musician who has come to regularly beat Alethea and controls her to the point where she has little social contact outside of work. Though she's a deeply private person, Alethea decides to share the nature of her abuse with a colleague one day. This confession combined with the return of two key figures from her past and a deadly attack outside her shop create subbstantial changes in her life. 

I immediately warmed to Alethea's independent nature and reserved sensibility. She frequently loses herself in books and it's enjoyable reading her commentary on several different authors she's read. Though I grew as concerned as the people around her who see her bruises as signs of an abusive relationship, I gradually become more aware why the question of leaving Leo wasn't so simple for her. On the surface she's cognizant of the social stigma around single women: “people does get on like if you, as a woman, who have no man, you not good enough, like you's not a real woman. So if is either stay with a asshole or have no man at all, I rather stay with a asshole.” However, there are deeper factors to do with her past being abused by her mother and an uncle which factor into why she reacts to being beaten and controlled in the way that she does. Scenes from Alethea's childhood are interspersed with the present story to show how they continue to impact her. Readers should be aware that there are some disturbing scenes of abuse in the book. They aren't there to shock but to show how it affects Alethea's relationship with her own body, men and sex. I appreciated the way in which the author artfully arranged these scenes within the novel to make this larger statement. 

There are also some surprising revelations and occurrences in the story which make it a thoroughly dramatic and engrossing read. At one point, Alethea wryly comments that her life has more twists than a soap opera. Yet, I fully bought her character because her distinct personality and the tone of her Trinidadian voice felt so real. At times this meant the narrative became a little too overloaded with her recounting small unnecessary details. However, it also allows her space to reflect and point to larger issues such as colourism on the island: “Is still a kind of racial, colour-conscious place where people who look like me does get through when people who look like he doesn't get one shit.” The way in which people who have different skin tones are treated in subtly different ways was also skilfully incorporated into the story. It presents a complex portrait of a community. But the focus of this novel is always centred on Alethea herself. By the end of the book I became aware of how something as simple as her choice of surname could become so loaded with deeper implications and meaning. It's a moving depiction of one woman's difficult journey to independence.