From Slum Landlord to Empathy: Shifting Perspectives in Migration Literature

The direct inspiration for Another Man in the Street is the story of infamous London slum landlord Peter Rachman. His name became so synonymous with exploitation that “Rachmanism” entered the English language to describe the abuse of tenants. What drew you to him?

“When migrants arrive in a new country, the first thing they need is a place to live. Just after the Second World War, it was incredibly difficult for newcomers in London—particularly those from the West Indies and Africa—to find housing. Peter Rachman, however, did give them opportunities. Yet the establishment vilified him for the poor condition of his buildings. He came to be known as greedy and deeply unpleasant. But when I discovered he was a Holocaust survivor from Poland, I began to see him differently. Perhaps he had a genuine sense of empathy for outsiders because he had once been one himself.”

His fictionalised story is just one of many migrant narratives in Another Man in the Street. Victor, the main character, moves from the Caribbean to London. But there are also characters who migrate from the countryside to the city. What do all these stories share?

“They’re all about loss. When you migrate, you lose something. It might be your language, your family, your food or your music. What drives you to migrate, however, is what you hope to gain. The hope—and it is always a gamble—is that what you gain will outweigh what you lose, so the overall balance is positive. Many people migrate in search of a better future for their children. They’re willing to make personal sacrifices for that. That’s the common thread running through all the characters. For some, the balance is clearly positive. For others, not so much.”
 

“It’s precisely a writer’s job to offer a different perspective. That’s why so many writers around the world are imprisoned or exiled. We don’t conform”

Do you feel the impact of recent political changes in the US in your professional life—as a literature professor and a writer?

“Definitely. There have been major cuts to university funding, and some research departments have been shut down. I also sense a growing fear among international students—they’re more hesitant to speak out. There are stories going around about students, and even professors, having their visas revoked. I’m very aware that freedom of expression in my classroom is under pressure.

But as a writer, it doesn’t hold me back. It’s precisely a writer’s job to tell a different kind of story. That’s why so many writers around the world are imprisoned, or exiled. We don’t conform. And I won’t let my voice be silenced either.”

In Another Man in the Street, you don’t just tell one alternative story—you give us several. And you regularly switch narrative perspective. How did that choice come about?

“In the UK, where I grew up, people have a strong sense of history. To them, history follows a neat, linear path: first this king, then that queen, which led to such and such an event. But for me, as a young Black boy, there was no place in that timeline. That made me suspicious of dominant single narratives.

So if someone tells me ‘this is the history of Belgium’ or ‘this is the history of England’, I think: ‘No—it’s not that simple.’ There are so many different stories, and each one can be viewed from multiple perspectives. That’s why I enjoy switching viewpoints in my writing.”

You've lived in the US for years now, but you chose to set the novel in London. Why?

“The US is a nation built by migrants. It has a long literary tradition of migration stories. In British literature, migration features less prominently. Many Britons still hold onto the idea that migrants are a problem—or that they only play a supporting role. I wanted to set my book in a society where this kind of story is most urgently needed.”
 

"A novel is an attempt at encounter. And in that way, it’s an attempt to spark empathy"

*This is a machine translation. We apologise for any inaccuracies.