Last year, in February to be precise, I read Régine O. Jackson's Geographies of the Haitian Diaspora. I loved it, and have been meaning to share some thoughts about it here, but have not gotten around to it until now. I'm actually surprised that the book hasn't been reviewed more widely since its publication.
For many years now, there has been increased attention paid to the Haitian Diaspora -- they were declared the 10th department before Nippes was! (I guess now the Diaspora would be the 11th department? That doesn't quite have the same ring to it.) But what do we mean when we evoke the djaspora? Is the Haitian community in the Bahamas comparable to the one in France? Is Boston's Haitian community equivalent to that of the DR? And what of the nuances within each of the different groups?
When there is much talk about members of the diaspora helping Haiti, investing in Haiti, there is little discussion of their capacity to do so. The assumption seems to be that all djaspora are in a position to help their compatriots at home. Yet, that is far from being the case. Some diasporic communities are more in need of support from the home country rather than being in a position to provide it, yet they rarely seem to receive such support.
Geographies of the Haitian Diaspora explores and illustrates all of these issues. One of the things I most loved about the book was that it does not contain chapters on Haitian communities in Miami and New York City. Not that I have anything against those two cities, but there has been tons of research done on Haitians in those communities already, much of it stellar. And we should be wary of those two enclaves being seen as representative of the Haitian diaspora as a whole. Jackson's volume contains chapters on Haitian communities in the Bahamas, in the Dominican Republic, in Boston, in Guadeloupe, in Jamaica and Montreal. Just as there is incredible diversity amongst Haitians at home, so there is among the diaspora. They do not all speak the same languages, they do not all subscribe to the same religious beliefs, and they are not similarly integrated into their host societies.
The volume contributors are highly respected researchers in their fields. Apart from Margarita Mooney's chapter, which seemed to rely mostly on anecdotes, I was very impressed with the caliber of the research and writing. Samuel Martinez's chapter on Haitians in the Dominican Republic was rather depressing, but that was to be expected given the turbulent history between the two nations. I loved learning about Haitians in 19th century Jamaica. I have always wanted to visit Cuba, but Yanique Hume's chapter now has me even more intrigued. Part III of the book is entitled Diaspora as Metageography and the authors in this section stretch the meanings of diaspora beyond its traditional limits to include soundscapes and cyberspace, to cite only two examples.
I have been on something of a history kick lately. In the past two months, I've read Alyssa Sepinwall's Haitian History: New Perspectives, Avengers of the New World and Haiti: The Aftershocks of History by Laurent Dubois, and in spite of the many references to Silencing the Past in these texts, added Ti Dife Boule sou Istwa Ayiti by Michel-Rolph Trouillot instead. Regine Jackson's volume is a wonderful addendum to that list, showing how historical processes have impacted and continue to impact various Haitian communities around the world.
This book did raise one question in my mind that is not specific to Haitian Studies: why in the world are research books so expensive? I would love to tell you all to run out and buy this, but I doubt you'll be able to afford it. The hardcover runs for $122.99 on Amazon, whereas the Kindle edition is $87.59. I hope you will ask the libraries you frequent to buy it, but it makes me wonder about editorial policies. Does Routledge really want people to read this book? The contributors to Geographies of the Haitian Diaspora have made many important interventions in the discussions surrounding Haiti, its diaspora, diaspora studies in general and identity politics (which is a topic we're visting a lot on Tande lately). It would be a shame if prohibitive pricing keeps this book from being more widely known.
Contributors: Paul Brodwin, Fabienne Doucet, Heike Drothbohm,Yanique Hume, Regine O. Jackson, Samuel Martinez, Elizabeth McAlister, Margarita Mooney, Angel Adams Parham, Ermitte St. Jacques, Nina Glick Schiller, Matthew J. Smith, Gina Athena Ulysse, Chantalle F. Verna
NM
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est book review. Afficher tous les articles
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est book review. Afficher tous les articles
mercredi 27 février 2013
vendredi 2 décembre 2011
Notes de lecture: Refonder Haiti?
Il faut croire que nous lisons beaucoup ces derniers temps, car après le compte-rendu fait par Régine de Violated, le roman de Guitèle Jeudy-Rahill, aujourd'hui je vous offre mes impressions du livre collectif, Refonder Haïti?.
Depuis le séisme qui a frappé Haiti le 12 janvier 2010, on ne cesse de parler de la reconstruction de ce pays, tant au niveau local qu'international. On évoque aussi sa refondation. Mais de quoi parle-t-on vraiment? Et qui doit participer à cette reconstruction ou refondation? Pour qui doit-on reconstruire ou refonder la nation? Le livre Refonder Haïti? (le point d'interrogation a toute son importance!) publié par Mémoire d'Encrier à la fin de 2010 apporte des réponses à ces questions, en posent d'autres et se lancent sans réserve dans le débat sur les problèmes et solutions de la société haïtienne.
J'ai commencé à lire ce livre en décembre 2010. Je ne l'ai terminé qu'à la fin de l'été 2011. Il est dense. Certains textes sont mieux écrits que d'autres. Certains contiennent beaucoup de chiffres, qui ne sont pas mon fort, je l'avoue. Le livre contient aussi beaucoup de coquilles, ce qui est vraiment dommage. J'ose espérer qu'une prochaine édition sera corrigée car c'est un livre à ne pas rater. A mon avis, ce livre doit être lu par tous ceux qui se sentent interpellés par le discours de la reconstruction, surtout les étrangers qui viennent nous "aider". En fait, il y a toute une réflexion locale sur la société haïtienne disponible, qui malheureusement n'est pas souvent prise en compte par ceux qui détiennent pouvoir et/ou argent et c'est bien dommage!
Lisez mes notes de lecture dans leur intégralité ici et surtout lisez le livre!
Lisez mes notes de lecture dans leur intégralité ici et surtout lisez le livre!
NM
vendredi 18 novembre 2011
Review of Violated by Guitele Jeudy-Rahill
I recently read the short novel Violated by Guitèle Jeudy Rahill (First Books Library, 2001). In the spirit of my post over the summer about making sure we cover the range of Haitians writing, I am including a review of the book here. Because my current research focuses on the representation of sexual violence in cultural production, I was particularly keen to pick up a copy of Violated and have had it on my reading list for a while. Violated tells the story of the first protagonist Henri Berceuse, a man suffering from complexes as a result of his dark complexion and a trauma that haunts him from the past. Early into the story we learn that his complexes are also related to his understanding of the sexual manifestations of power relations in Haiti during the occupation. “Henri had determined long ago, with the American occupation of Haiti between 1915 and 1934, that he would do all he could to escape his blackness and the poverty it obliged” (10). Later on Henri explains the exact incident that led to this decision: he witnessed the sexual violation of young Haitian boys by soldiers from the United States. “Henri imagined that what the boys were experiencing was humiliating and painful…The soldiers were white and sporting uniforms. Both factors were indicators of unquestioned authority on the small island” (12). Shortly after Henri describes his past we are introduced to Peggy Pouchot, a woman who is also the victim of a sexual violence having been kidnapped and held as a sex slave. “Two years before, in Port-au-Prince, she’d been approached by a man who had identified himself as a lieutenant and had commanded her to follow him. She had done just that. There was no disputing a man who looked so powerful. It had been six months until her family would hear from her again” (19).
In the context of my own research this book is compelling for what it tells us about sexual violence—that it occurs in a number of different ways by a number of different actors ranging from soldiers violating young Haitian boys (a scene that is eerily reminiscent of the rape of the young Haitian man in Port Salut perpetrated by members of Uruguyan MINUSTAH forces) to young women caught in unequal relationships in which they are forced to give sex in return to security and those caught in the drama of family incest and sexual abuse. The wide range and nature of violations in the book serve as a reminder for how complex issues of sexual violence are even if the gendered power dynamics that underlie them are similar. Rahill has taken on a difficult topic with Violated, and her writing style is simple, threadbare and straightforward. Another main character who is the daughter of Peggy Pouchot and Henri Berceuse, Kasha, who is chronically mistreated by her stepfather Antoine and who eventually migrates to the United States where she continues to be abused (which again disabuses the myth of security offered by the US). Her character is quite well developed, with a convincingly written and intimately rendered inner monologue. Overall the book offers a prolonged and often jarring encounter with different narratives of trauma, their troubling manifestations and aftermath. Thus Rahill's novel could be well read alongside other texts such as Chauvet's Colère, Danticat's Breath, Eyes, Memory or Mars' Saisons sauvages to name but a few.
People often ask me, as someone who works on representations of violence in Africa and the Caribbean, if I ever fear that my work will reinforce stereotypes about these populations as being more violent than others. I imagine that this is the same question that someone would ask this author. I found it fascinating that though Violated is a work of fiction, Rahill is a social worker and a professor at a university as well. As such she may have a completely different answer to this question, but I find that my answer more often relates to how the story is written, and the necessity for the survivors of sexual violence to be able to have their stories told with complexity, texture and nuance, no matter how difficult it may be to hear, see or read them. Especially since sexual violence is an issue that is surrounded by so much silence no matter where you are from, it is important that these stories be told. Guitèle Jeudy-Rahill has achieved a story about violation that attempts to explore it in a number of different ways and show the trauma that results in its aftermath.
RMJC
Libellés :
book review,
Haitian Literature,
sexual violence
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