Eske nou li liv ki ekri an kreyòl yo?

Tande ap swete tout lektè nou yo bòn ane. Sa fè kèk tan depi nou pa ekri sou blòg la. Nou te menm ka panse tit dènye tèks mwen an se te yon fason pou mwen te tou di nou Tande fèmen. Se pa sa ditou. Ane 2013 la kòmanse pou nou ak anpil delè, yon maladi epi anpil aktivite pwofesyonèl. Men nou la, nou pa pi mal. N ap toujou kontinye pataje lide nou sou kilti ak literati ak lektè nou yo, epi nou toujou la pou nou tande nou. 

Mwen toujou eseye li anpil depi gen yon ti vakans. Se lè sa a tou mwen pwofite finalize dosye mwen gen pou remèt. Youn nan tèks mwen te gen pou m remèt nan mwa janvye a se yon biyografi Georges Sylvain. M tap travay tou sou yon tèks sou travay kritik ki fèt sou literati ayisyen an.

Menm jan ak anpil lòt moun, mwen konstate nan anpil diskisyon sou literati ayisyen, kritik ak lektè gen tandans neglije liv ki pibliye an kreyòl yo. Yo site Dezafi ak Krik? Krak!, men se kòmsi pa gen anyen ki fèt apre sa. Se domaj. Enterè liv kreyòl yo pa chita sèlman nan fè promosyon lang kreyòl la. Menm jan ak tèks literè ki ekri nan nenpòt ki lang, tèks kreyòl yo pèmèt lektè a pataje richès imajinasyon ekriven an oubyen konstate travay li fè sou lang la. Nan ka Ayiti a, li difisil pou yon moun arive konprann literati peyi a si li pa gen okenn ide sou sa kap fèt nan toulède lang nasyonal yo. Sitou anpil ekriven ayisyen jodi a ekri nan toulède lang yo. Anpil lektè  tou li tout kalite tèks nan de lang yo, menm si toujou gen plis pwezi ki ekri an kreyòl pase woman, teyat ak nouvèl. Men tèks sa yo la tou.

Mwen deja site Georges Sylvain ak Frankétienne. Ane pase nou te fete santyèm anivèsè Félix Morisseau-Leroy. Gen Georges Castera tou ki kontinye ap fè yon travay enpòtan nan domenn pwezi kreyòl. Dayè nan mwa me 2013, ap gen yon kòlòk sou pwezi Castera ekri nan toulède lang yo.

Men apa non sa yo anpil moun kapab rekonèt, gen lòt òte ki pibliye tèks enteresan an kreyòl nan ven dènye ane k sot pase yo. Anpil moun ki pa li tèks kreyòl yo di se paske yo pa konnen yo. M fè yon ti lis kèk liv an kreyòl mwen renmen anpil pou ede nou. 

• Raoul Altidor,  Koulè Midi (nouvèl, 1999)
• Bonel Auguste, Nan Dans Fanm (pwezi, 2012)
• Pierre Michel Chéry,  Bèbè Gòlgota (woman, 2008)
• Louis-Philippe Dalembert, Epi oun jou konsa tèt pastè bab pati (resi, 2008)
• Josaphat-Robert Large, Rete! Kote Lamèsi (resi, 2008)
• Evelyne Trouillot, Plidetwal (pwezi, 2006)

Jounen jodi a, gen anpil pwodiksyon literè ayisyen an kreyòl. Kèlkeswa stil ekriti, tip tèks ou renmen li, ou ta dwe kapab jwenn tèks an kreyòl kap fè w plezi. Mwa sa a, Words Without Borders pibliye yon nimewo spesyal sou Ayiti. Ladan l n ap jwenn ekstrè rekèy Sezon Malè Guy-Gérald Ménard pibliye ane pase. Gen plizyè antoloji ki fèt ann Ayiti kote nou kapab jwenn tèks an kreyòl ansanm ak tèks an franse tankou Haïti, par monts et par mots. Un atlas littéraire epi La vie et ses couleurs ki fenk parèt an desanm 2012. Gen plis liv bileng kap fèt kounyè a, sitou pou timoun. Jounen jodi a, timoun ayisyen yo gen anpil chwa nan liv kreyòl pou yo li. Dènyèman, GRAHN te rekonèt travay Jocelyne Trouillot Lévy nan literati kreyòl la. Depi plizyè ane Trouillot Lévy ap pwodui liv pou timoun ak adolesan an kreyòl. Edisyon lap dirije a spesyalize l nan pwodiksyon kreyòl. 

Tout sa se yon fason pou mwen di nou gen anpil otè k ap travay pou anrichi lang kreyòl la, pou nouri imajinè nou. Nan sans sa a, nou pwofite salye memwa Deita ki kite nou an desanm 2012. Travay li fè sou lang kreyòl ak kilti ayisyen trase chimen pou anpil lòt. Bibliyotèk Nasyonal Ayiti ap òganize yon jounen omaj pou Deita vandredi 25 janvye. 

Si nou pa abitye li liv an kreyòl, nou mèt kòmanse jodi a. Lè fini, vin di nou sa n panse. Ann bay patisipasyon pa nou nan travay kritik sou literati ayisyen an kreyòl. 

NM

Tande's Second Anniversary!

Last week, April 6th was the second anniversary of this blog.  In my "other life" as the mother of two little boys, ages 4 and 3, I have become fond of taking their birthdays to think about the actual days of their births, remembering the trip to the hospital etc.  When I have my birthday I like to reflect on the year, to appreciate the blessings, and to set new goals.  Since this blog is in a way both our child, and a piece of ourselves, I am taking the occasion to do each of these for this post.

When we began this blog it was because we wanted a place to discuss our thoughts on Haitian literature and culture outside of an academic context.   How to approach the former was obvious.  Two trained literary scholars and professors, avid consumers of books by or about Haitians, books written in French, Kreyòl or English, books of all kinds from all disciplines, our love for reading and learning about and critically analyzing scholarly and literary material related to Haiti was one of the main reasons for this pursuit.  It is from this perspective that we share our reviews of books, about our experience in the classroom, contemplate our syllabi, and report on literary festivals.  Yet this is not a blog only on literature like Writers of Haiti or Thomas Spear's exhaustive Île-en-île both of which focus exclusively on writing.

The second area, "culture," is perhaps harder to define.  There is first "culture" in the sense of traditions, beliefs, and practices that are focused on Haiti.  But, as my anthropologist friends enjoy asking what do we really mean by culture?  Are we referring to that ubiquitous complex whole which includes beliefs, knowledge, morals arts and institutions?  Are we claiming that there is a definitive and exclusive set of the aforementioned that can be labeled as Haitian culture?  In other words if culture is always evolving, shouldn't the scope of what we cover in this area always be evolving as well?  A cognitive definition of culture extends to the social and communicative aspects of life, which include language, gestures, and various practices.  As someone who approaches much of my scholarship from the perspective of cultural studies--a field that stems from literary criticism--I am certainly invested in approaching these topics in a way that is also critical about the position from which I enter and in relation to power relations and social dynamics.  There is a difference, cultural studies reminds us, between studying "culture" as in how a group of people bound by a national identity do things and cultures as in subcultural fields.  For example Jean-Price Mars' Ainsi parla l'oncle stands as a classic example of an exploration of Haitian culture through a focus on folklore, Kreyòl language and African ancestral roots.  

Determining the balance between how we understand culture, and what constitutes culture and how we represent it in this blog has been one of our greatest challenges and achievements.  There have been times that we have considered approaching topics such as the presidential election, but were not certain about which cultural angle to take.  President Martelly presented a rich opportunity for us to explore the intersection of music, celebrity and politics but we were hesitant to delve into politics with much of the conversation in the Haitian blogosphere already covering this area.   

A New York Times article on the celebrated Orchestre Septentrional had a nice quote on the importance of highlighting the sonic elements of Haitian culture.  According to Whitney Dow whose documentary "When the Drum is Beating" airs on PBS tonight, “Because music is not just a source of entertainment, but one of the primary elements within Haitian culture, it offers a different path into the country..." Indeed this is one of the main reasons that we find it important to think about culture, both broadly and narrowly in different forms.  Yet more often than not our focus on culture has taken it to mean art forms beyond the literary—we’ve had posts on music and painting and in the future you can expect posts on film as well. 

To this end one of my goals for our third year will be to post more frequently about visual culture, and in particular on photography.  Perhaps through a post on Daniel Morel or Régine Romain, whose work I find so compelling, or through an exploration of how creative writers like Myriam Chancy and Patrick Sylvain also express their artistry through photography.  My other goal relates back to one of my posts earlier in the year, the one on Gina Ulysse for the Moun nou section.  Because of my own work I have benefited from an amazing community of Haitian scholars, artists, intellectuals and activists whose work inspires me and enriches my scholarship.  One of the goals of Moun nou is to profile some of these people in a way that also describes their impact not only in the broad field of Haitian representation, but also on what their work means to us.  I suppose this could also be thought of as a way to make what we cover a bit more personal which is one of the benefits of blogging compared to academic writing!

Among the best parts of doing this blog is of course the partnership aspect.  Nadève and I have known each other for over a decade, but collaborating on the blog has energized or friendship, sharpened our intellect, and opened us to new ways of thinking.  It is truly a transnational exchange between two women--writers, scholars, friends, professors, mothers, and thinkers passionate about engaging Haiti in the arts and the letters--that we continue with pleasure into its third year.  So with that I say chapo ba to you my sister blogger, and happy birthday to Tande! 


RMJC

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

Musings on Choosing

Recently a friend asked me in regards to an essay he was working on, “does the world need another article on Edwidge Danticat?”  The question was posed in reference to an article he is writing that considers some of Danticat’s more recent nonfiction.  In answering the question I found myself torn.  It is no secret that I am a huge fan of Danticat’s work. One of the things I appreciate the most about her is the way she uses her own reknown to also introduce her reading public to other Haitian writers as we see in The Butterfly’s Way and more recently in Haiti Noir.  On the other hand, as someone who is well versed in the diversity of Haitian literature, I sometimes get frustrated that so much of the work in the field focuses on Danticat and writers in the diaspora in general.  Overall I feel that when it comes to Haitian literature, there is a huge amount of work on the chosen few, whereas the brilliant and important work of others garners less critical attention.  One could write the same of Jacques Roumain and Jacques-Stephen Alexis, both of whom have generated significant scholarship.  It is an issue prominently on display for people on the conference circuit as well, you can be sure that a panel on Haitian women's writing, for example, will certainly include Danticat and Chauvet whereas papers on Yanick Lahens, Evelyne Trouillot,  Kettly Mars  or Jessica Fièvre are less common.  My frustrations over the lack of attention to the different writers that make up the Haitian literary tradition is one of the reasons that as a scholar I am so grateful for the contributions of people like Kaiama Glover, who recently published an insightful and innovative study entitled Haiti Unbound:  A Spiralist Challenge to the Postcolonial Canon on Jean-Claude Fignolé, Frankétienne and René Philoctète, writers who rarely make the cut on the syllabi for courses taught in the US.

Perhaps this is a dilemma that is specific to people dealing with “minor literatures” (to borrow a phrase from Deleuze and Guattari). After all, when was the last time someone questioned whether there were too many articles written about Shakespeare, Proust, or Foucault?  Again I think that in terms of these literatures it also tends to happen more with women, for example one could never count the number of articles on Aimé Césaire or VS Naipaul.  Doesn’t true intellectual freedom mean writing about whatever moves you rather than being beholden to some standard or quota of how much work is being done on the person? At the same time it is also a problem that relates to canon formation, which can be applied to writing across the globe.  Who do we teach?  Why teach this particular author over another?  How do we choose the writers we do work on? 

In the Haitian context this issue takes on many forms.  The question is linguistic as we consider writers working in Kreyol, French or English.  (See here for a fascinating discussion of Kreyol and education featuring the Haitian linguist Michel Degraff.)  Deciding which author to focus on then can sometimes come down to a question of which language one may be most comfortable in reading and writing.  Yet, as much of Haitian literature reminds us, these languages also function in relation to one another and when you consider the breadth of work being done in the field it is essential to be familiar with each one.  In fact, maybe these reflections are only specific to the context of the USA where the preference is for texts written in English for obvious reasons. 

But back to my friend’s question, how does one decide which writer to focus on and is there even really such a thing as “too many articles” on one author?  The answer to the latter question is easy, a resounding no.  For me what matters the most is innovation and creativity in terms of the critical approach and topic rather than the scope.  That is to say when reading another book or article on Toussaint Louverture, what I look for is a new approach, for something that has not been said before and offers a new perspective.  In teaching I purposefully include authors writing today that my students are most likely unfamiliar with because I want to expose them to the diversity of Haitian writers. I have found that my students are especially excited to read work by contemporary writers in general.  When I had them read L’heure hybride for example some students mentioned that this was the most recent novel they had read in almost all of their time studying French.  I guess one could say that I also think of this as my own small act of literary activism, promoting authors who students may not regularly have access to and encouraging them to pursue more work by lesser known writers.  What about you, how do you choose who to work on or teach in your classes?

RMJC

Summer Reading 2011

The summer after I finished graduate school I sent around a message to my friends and family members about forming a summer reading list.  Throughout graduate school I regularly passed over  reading "leisure" books as my reading became increasingly linked to my research focus.  I am going back to that tradition with a twist this summer, especially because I will be on leave with a fellowship for the entire academic year to focus on my writing and research.  So instead of devoting a good portion of the summer to preparing for my fall classes, I will catch up on books I have been meaning to read over the past several months, completing my book manuscript, and beginning the research for my second project on performance theory and Haitian cultural production.  Below are some of the books on my summer reading list.

1.  The Haitian Creole Language:  History, Structure, Use and Education, eds. Carole Berotte Joseph and Arthur K. Spears (2011)

How I wish this book had been out when I taught my fall classes on Haiti!   It is a multilingual,  thorough, well written and exceedingly useful volume for the history and instruction of Kreyol dealing with issues that range from linguistic to literary and featuring many prominent scholars.

2.  Tout bouge autour de moi by Dany Laferrière (2010)

This book falls into the newly formed category of “post-earthquake writing,"  much like Haiti parmi les vivants and others, the book is primarily Laferrière's testimony from the day of the earthquake and in its aftermath.  

3.  The Loneliness of Angels by Myriam Chancy (2010)

Myriam Chancy is one of my favorite writers living  in the diaspora.  You can always expect complex, multifaceted and complicated characters in her novels and the Loneliness of Angels, which was published last year promises to be no different.  The narrative centers on a Syrian-Haitian woman living in Port-au-Prince but, true to Chancy’s styles it is told in multiple voices in a non-linear fashion.    

4.  Haiti noir,  ed. Edwidge Danticat  (2010)

I snatched up a copy of this wonderful collection when it first came out several months ago but have not gotten to it yet.  Edited by Edwidge Danticat, the collection boasts a number of great authors both known (Evelyne Trouillot, Gary Victor) and relatively new voices as well.  I especially like that it is a part of the Akashic Books' "Noir" series which takes on the genre in different contexts. 

5.   Beyond the Slave Narrative:  Politics, Sex and Manuscripts in the Haitian Revolution by Deborah Jenson (2011)
A professor of Romance Studies at Duke University, Jenson is one of the foremost US academics working on Haitian history, literature and cultural studies  The breadth of her work goes from the 18th century through the present.  This book on the literary legacies of the Haitian Revolution, will be a great complement to studies that tend to focus on the Revolution from philosophical, political, or historic perspectives.

6.  Le prince noir de Lillian Russell by Kettly Mars and Leslie Péan (2011)

This new novel by Mars goes into the 19^th century to explore a forbidden love between a vaudeville queen and a Haitian naval officer.  I am looking forward to seeing Mars apply her writing prowess to another century as well as a different setting!

7.  Haiti After the Earthquake by Paul Farmer (2011)

Farmer, who has been working in Haiti for decades, argues that the earthquake was an “unnatural disaster” because of the pre-existing issues that made it so catastrophic in scope.  Like many of the others that have emerged over the past two years, the book also includes testimonies by people who were there during the earthquake and in its aftermath.

8.  Geographies of the Haitian Diaspora, ed.  Régine Ostine Jackson (2011)
Régine Ostine Jackson is a sociologist from Emory University who has been doing work on the Haitian diaspora in the social sciences.  Her volume offers an interdisciplinary perspective on issues relevant to the formation of Haitian diasporic communities.   The book includes scholars such as anthropologist Gina Athena Ulysse and historian Chantalle Verna.

What about you?  What are you looking forward to reading this summer?  What are some new (or old) books by and about Haitians that top your list of favorites?

RMJC

Teaching Beyond A Single Story

I recently showed Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s presentation, “The Danger of A Single Story” while teaching for an advanced Black Studies class on “Theorizing the African Diaspora.” Listening to Adichie’s frustrations regarding the limitations imposed upon novelists to proffer “authentic narratives” that belie the complexity of daily realities, I was struck by the usefulness of what she was saying for teaching about Haitian literature and culture. Adichie captured what have been some of my own challenges of presenting Caribbean and African texts in the US classroom.

Take, for example a recent oral presentation on Marie-Célie Agnant’s La dot de Sara (1995), for which the students circulated a handout containing two pictures. On the right: a gleaming shot of the Montreal skyline replete with beautiful skyscrapers and lavish buildings. On the left: a picture of an unnamed Haitian village, dirt ground dampened by flood water, naked child with a bewildered look in her eye, and thatched roof hut. The juxtaposition evoked the binaries I had hoped my students would interrogate: modern/ ancient, rich/ poor, developed/ undeveloped to name but a few. On its own the presentation was quite good, a thorough exploration of mother/daughter relationships and the challenges of immigrant life for the novel’s main character. Yet it was marred by this picture; with a single image the idea of the single Haitian story of poverty rose to the top.

The picture suggested to me that perhaps despite my lecturing about vigilance regarding how popular images and stereotypes inform our perceptions of the country, the dangerous single story had snuck into the classroom. Whether facile descriptions such as the ubiquitous phrase (which I refuse to reproduce here!) that has come to be shorthand for Haiti, or the notion of boatpeople constantly streaming onto USA shores, reductive images imbue our understanding of Haiti with fatality. Perhaps my students were only half listening to Haitian historian and Haitian Studies’ Association co-founder Marc Prou’s powerful lecture about the richness of Haitian cultural and historical contributions, and the imperative distinction between “being impoverished” and “being poor.” He delivered these words to the Boston College community during an event to help contextualize the crisis in Haiti as a result of the earthquake in January. Perhaps I had failed my students by leading this section on Haitian literature with the Agnant book rather than putting Kettly Mars’ Fado (2008), first, a book set in the urban landscape un-preoccupied by the discussions of poverty that Agnant pursues. Perhaps the dominant image, especially apparent since the earthquake, was just too powerful to overcome by teaching a few novels.

Then another student, a first year student who had left Haiti only four years ago, raised her hand inquisitively. Her words were simple: “Pourquoi ces deux photos?” Why these two particular photos? The presenter explained her desire to concretize the “ici et là-bas” described in the book. She then went on to mention that she had just done a search for “Haitian village” and that the picture looked much better in color. But the question lingered. The first year student said that the problem with the photos was that it made it look as though on the one hand Montreal was beautiful whereas Haiti was not. This was certainly not the Haiti that this student was familiar with. She had access to other stories about Haiti that revealed complexity, nuance and beauty. She could challenge the single story her classmate proffered because she knew it was not the only one. I seized upon the students’ exchange as a “teachable moment” for explaining again how in the case of Haiti and many of the other Caribbean and African nations we studied in this class, for the U.S. audience, there is an undeniable dominant narrative that we must position these writers against, and that their works should help us to deconstruct it. I concluded by saying that if the image of Haiti that they are left with at the end of the semester is the one in the picture, then the purpose of the course and my teaching is in vain.

Since the earthquake, many colleges and universities across the United States’ have sponsored “teach-ins” about Haiti in order to promote awareness, educate and to counteract and make sense of all the reporting that was coming out of Haiti during the first months of this year. These events have featured Haitian academics, experts on Haiti, artists and poets using their voices to provide a deeper and more informed understanding about Haitian history and culture that includes critical analysis as well as celebratory pride. The purpose is to offer some background, some context and some alternatives in the face of a single story.

I am reminded of the elation I felt at the end of last year after learning that Edwidge Danticat has won the MacArthur prize in the same week that Guerline Dieu Damas and her five children were killed in Florida, the victims of domestic violence. That week I wrote a piece about the “highs and lows” of the Haitian diaspora, noting Danticat’s words in an interview that, “in these past twenty plus years, I have seen some movement in the complexity of our narratives.” As a teacher I attempt to render the complexity of these narratives by teaching different types of texts, teaching poems from Brassage: Yon Rekeil Poem Fanm Ayisien/ An Anthology of Poems by Haitian Women or by Félix Morriseau-Leroy alongside films by Arnold Antonin, and historic texts to provide a broader context. Yet, there are days when I wonder what more can be done to get beyond the single story.

RMJC