What we say is always 'in context', positioned. We all write and speak from a particular place and time, from a history and a culture which is specific. Of course, the 'I' who writes here must also be thought of as, itself, 'enunciated'. We seek, here, to open a dialogue, an investigation, on the subject of cultural identity and representation. This view problematises the very authority and authenticity to which the term, 'cultural identity', lays claim. Perhaps instead of thinking of identity as an already accomplished fact, which the new cultural practices then represent, we should think, instead, of identity as a 'production', which is never complete, always in process, and always constituted within, not outside, representation. Identity is not as transparent or unproblematic as we think. What recent theories of enunciation suggest is that, though we speak, so to say 'in our own name', of ourselves and from our own experience, nevertheless who speaks, and the subject who is spoken of, are never identical, never exactly in the same place. Yet, his mischevious older brother Udayan, seems to do no wrong in the eyes of his parents. Subhash is always reminded that he is not the favorite son. Who is this emergent, new subject of the cinema? From where does he/she speak? Practices of representation always implicate the positions from which we speak or write - the positions of enunciation. The Lowland, at its core, is the heartbreaking story of Subhash, who just wanted to love his brother, Udayan, but yet was always made to feel less than. All these cultural practices and forms of representation have the black subject at their centre, putting the issue of cultural identity in question. It is related to, but different from the vibrant film and other forms of visual representation of the Afro-Caribbean (and Asian) 'blacks' of the diasporas of the West - the new post-colonial subjects.

A new cinema of the Caribbean is emerging, joining the company of the other 'Third Cinemas'.

The lowland lahiri