A prominent, light-skinned consultant from a mixed Brazilian family confronts and is consumed by the "uncontrollable shame" of racism in his country.
Even though his father, a renowned police forensics expert, is Black, Federico grew up in the southern town of Porto Alegre not knowing what it meant to be "part of the race": "Blackness did not exist in my upbringing." Increasingly guilty over his ability to pass as White, he has stopped straightening his hair and dedicated himself to Black causes. Drafted onto a government commission looking at affirmative action policies for universities in the wake of violent student protests over racial quotas, Federico is stunned by the commission's support for a software program that will determine whether an applicant is sufficiently Black, brown, or Indigenous. "It had to be a joke," he scoffs. But it isn't, and neither are proposals to employ facial recognition technology, a national register on which a person's racial "qualifications" are recorded, and the "hierarchisation" of skin tones. Also no joke is the arrest of Federico's rebellious niece at a student protest over quotas, where she was found carrying a gun—a police service revolver that her father and uncle had frantically hidden years ago following a shooting to which they had an unfortunate connection. A former lawyer and activist, Scott pours out his indictment of Brazil in long, overflowing sentences that are equal parts outrage and cutting humor. Originally titled Brown and Yellow when it was published in Portuguese, the book is a bit sidetracked by a romantic involvement and other nonessential plot, but even so, it is not easy to shake off.
A blast of righteous (and spot-on) indignation by a formidable Brazilian author.