1804: The Hidden History of Haiti

1804: The Hidden History of Haiti is one of the very problematic but surprisingly better documentaries on the Haitian Revolution. While less accurate and featuring far fewer serious 'experts' than an older PBS documentary on the same subject, it actually does a better job connecting Haiti to the struggles of black people who are interested in pan-Africanism, black nationalism, Afrocentrism, and black struggles of today. And despite some of its absurd and nonsensical claims, it has a general structure or coherency which is an affirmation of Haiti and black people. This is great and noble, even though I am not interested in hotepism, Afrocentrism, or black nationalism. 

However, the documentary's numerous flaws, inconsistencies, and errors also weaken something with noble intentions. Early in the documentary, one of the Haitian 'experts' claims Africans were living in the island of Hispaniola before Columbus, but without offering any real proof. Then, another Haitian who participated in the film made numerous errors while the former offered a narrative on the Bois Caiman ceremony I never heard before (contradicted by rapper Akala, whose more plausible narrative was never fully explained by the film's narrators or guests despite the differences between the interpretations). By far, Akala was the most intelligent, perceptive, and interesting person in the documentary, despite the presence of Gerald Horne (the random Afrocentrist academics are of very little to me here, nor is Tariq Nasheed). The appearance of so few Haitian intellectuals, historians, and scholars severely weakened this documentary, and will likely limit its credibility to those who study the Haitian Revolution or Haiti itself. Perhaps even more heinous, the positive descriptions of Vodou are matched by caricatured video footage that does not resemble Vodou ceremonies in the least.

As a product of the same people behind the Hidden Colors series, there are some hilariously outrageous and absurd statements. Apparently, the month of August "electrifies" our melanin so that August is a favorite choice for revolutionary action among black people. The attempt to turn Wyclef Jean into some kind of saint was also hilariously absurd and further weakened the film, though it does at least try to incorporate some Haitians like Bello, Danto, and Jean into the story. But why didn't the filmmaker try to reach out to contemporary scholars of the Haitian Revolution or expand on the analysis beyond Makandal, Toussaint, and Dessalines? There was potential here for a better film, but no luck. 

Listen, Little Man!

Wilhelm Reich's Listen, Little Man! is an enjoyable read addressed to us, the little men who put other little Fuhrers, Stalinists, and generals in power because we are afraid to live. Based on his earlier work, Reich's analysis of sexual repression, the oppressive Western family structure, and the recent experience of fascism and World War II lead to a somewhat angry in tone essay to us, but Reich's work hits upon several points made in Fromm's Escape from Freedom. Since both authors appear to have built upon the works of Marx and Freud, there are bound to be similarities in how both approach the question of mental health, love, totalitarianism, or other topics. However, Reich's persecution complex and fashion for promoting his theory of orgones throughout the essay weakens the larger thrust of the work, even as his accessible essay persuasively challenges the reader to think beyond nation, race, groups or classes to consider the human condition after World War II. Most perceptively, Reich did not see fascism as going away after WWII, and something of the crowd mentality persists. 

This Week's Crop of Readings...

So, this week I read two books. Atkins on Japanese colonialism in Korea and the role of culture and ambivalence on modernity was fascinating for adding some interesting nuance to Japanese imperialism in East Asia. Although I could be speaking out of ignorance here, but it would have been interesting if the book had expanded Japanese colonialism's ambivalence on modernity and claims to protect Asia (pan-Asianism) in other parts of the empire, such as Taiwan, or other parts of the continent during World War II. Nonetheless, an interesting look at how colonialism and anthropology went hand in hand and actually helped pave the way for Korean nationalism (in spite of Japanese imperialism). In other news, Cisneros's The House on Mango Street was pure delight. Short, sweet, endearing, and set in Chicago, the perspective of a child in a series of vignettes about her neighborhood brought to mind works of numerous other writers yet something unique and original can be found here. I'm ashamed I waited so long to read it. 

Te Quiero

Roger Colas singing in any language is delightful, but in Spanish is particularly beautiful. "Te Quiero" is a Lara song, and Colas does it justice here. 

Panama'm Tonbe

Lakou Mizik 'modernized' a classic song which I have enjoyed for quite some time.