Massacre River

"Pedro takes heart, convinced that a deep human fervor can unite the people of the low land with those of the highland, just as the poetic areitos of the Golden Flower, the woman of the West, were carried in the quiver of the Cacique of the Cibao, the man of the East."

Massacre River, René Philoctète's novel on the 1937 Parsley Massacre along the Dominican-Haitian border, translated by Linda Coverdale, is an excellent example of the literary Spiralism movement, of which Philoctète helped pioneer. Although most of his writings consisted of poetry, this novel is full of poetic prose that personifies a Dominican guagua, fictionalizes Trujillo's motives as an impossible dream of conquering the Citadel, lists the sounds, colors, and physical attributes of the world to show a fully-fleshed frontier where Dominicans and Haitians lived cooperatively. Using the metaphorical couple of Haitian Adele and Dominican Pedro, who live in Elías Piña, a border town forever shattered by the massacre ordered by Trujillo, the author demonstrates how Haitians and Dominicans lived peacefully, exchanged goods, and, through numerous other residents, even shared land, family, and other resources. Racial and cultural distinctions, though present, were never enough to completely separate neighbors. 

The novel also satirizes Trujillo's myth of Dominican nationality, his attempt to 'whiten' the population, and the creation of the indio identity despite the obvious African ancestry of the Dominican population. Government propaganda, radio broadcasts, and Trujillo's supreme authority allow him to get away with this, just as the shadow of World War II, fasciscm, and US imperialism lingers in the background (the baseball game in Chicago is broadcast on the radio as the Massacre occurs, and Trujillo is likened to Hitler and Mussolini). Trujillo's crackdown on labor is also explored, since Pedro is a union organizer who seeks to combat the massacre and maintain the social cohesion that characterized the frontier before 1937. Thus, Trujillo's dictatorship is depicted as monstrous and a threat to Dominicans and Haitians alike, while the Haitian government profits off the misery of Haitians in Haiti and across the border (the non-response from Vincent's government is horrifically ridiculed by Philoctète, as Haitian officials in the capital party and gorge themselves while Haitians flee for their lives in the Dominican Republic. 

Philoctète accomplishes all of the above in a loosely structured story that, like a 'spiral,' moves back and forth in narration, plot, and characters. Hints of magical realism, foreshadowing, symbolism, madness, and moving, decapitated heads permeate the novel which heighten the dark themes of the novel, which is just as critical of Trujillo as it is of Vincent. Consequently, this is a difficult novel, but one which is full of promise, memory, and hope for a more harmonious Hispaniola. 

Favorite Quotes

"We acknowledge that we were a single people: the people of the island of Haiti."

"The Citadel fled further and further from Trujillo's dreams. But although the phantasm was frightened, the myth was holding its own. 

"There's no need for any more bulletins from the authorities. The whole affair is a done deal. The people have been told enough. The League of Nations will make a fuss, that's understandable, but after a few diplomatic formalities that haven't changed since Cyrus the Great; it will all be forgotten." 

"That every Haitian has a drum in his belly? Every Puerto Rican a fountain in his laughter? Every Cuban a sunbeam in his throat? Every Jamaican rum in his eyes? Every Dominican a heaven between his legs?

"For each Haitian decapitation at the border, a draught of Haitian blood at the masked ball, Field of Mars, Square of Heroes."

"Port-au-Prince didn't bother with ways or means of routine protocol. Or even bluffing, grandstanding, putting up a front. Port-au-Prince didn't go in for hypocrisy, swaggering, righteous wrath, curses, sanctimony, gloating: it was all the same to them, business as usual. An invoice, a bill."

"They have so many things in common, share so many similar wounds and joys that trying to distinguish between the two peoples violates their tacit understanding to live as one."

Ready to Burst

"We must remind all those who have profited from our labor, those secular exploiters who disdain us today, that we have contributed to the progress and the beauty of their civilization, in the mines, on the plantations, in their factories, and often under the overseer's whip. Henceforth, we do not intend to be treated like poor relations and servants. We reject enslavement."

Kaiama L. Glover's translation of Frankétienne's Ready to Burst is a fascinating read full of the tenets of Spiralism, a literary movement Frankétienne helped pioneer. Through a meta-narrative text that mixes fiction and autobiographical detail, this novel of the 1960s documents life in Port-au-Prince through the lens of Raynand and Paulin. The Haitian migrant experience in the Bahamas is briefly explored, the elements and nature personified through poetic language, criticism of US imperialism, the history of Haiti, and some indigeniste elements are employed to capture Haitian culture, the peasantry, and the sounds of rara, etc. A highly complex novel structured somewhat like a spiral (hence, Spiralism), the novel switches back and forth between Paulin and Raynand, straightforward prose and dense, poetic language. Frankétienne even ends the novel in an interesting way, having Raynand essentially entitle Paulin's novel, while also alluding to Haiti's political and economic turmoil without being overtly critical of Duvalier.

The ability of the author to write a novel that is so subtly opposed to Duvalier's regime is astounding. Without referring to the current head of state at all, Franketienne captures Haitian society and urban living in Port-au-Prince in all its despair (while also including the utter poverty of rural society, through the American conman showing interest in pistachios). Raynand's failure of a love relationship with Solange, his failure in the Bahamas and miserable return to Haiti, and the loose structure of the novel allow the author flexible and freedom to explore these aforementioned themes. The fact that Haitians being 'returned' from the Bahamas would rather commit suicide by jumping into a sea full of shark stands out as one of the more specifically harrowing episodes in the novel.

Frankétienne's use of Haitian history is also important for grounding his critique of US imperialism, as well as the Duvalierist state. Invoking Caonabo, Anacaona, Dessalines, Louverture, Petion, and Péralte, the novel is certainly nationalist and recognizes the importance of historical figures in building future movements. Indeed, the 1946 revolution is invoked, recalled by one of the characters who experienced the moment as a child. The novel's conclusion, during an invasion by angels/demons representing white imperialist powers, draws on revolution. Haitian cultural practices, such as rara and Vodou, are also invoked in varying contexts, and never negatively. Thus, as a 'Spiralist' text, Ready to Burst is quite reminiscent of other styles of Caribbean writing, particularly Haitian literary traditions.

While certainly not an 'easy' read, Ready to Burst will astound some with its metaphorical and complex interplay of ideas. As a meta-narrative, the author inserts aspects of his own life into the novel, as well as leaving room for a deeper subtext on the state of Haiti during the Duvalier years. One scene of great beauty was the personification of the hurricane that strikes Port-au-Prince while Raynand is walking endlessly through the streets. Anyone seeking a literary perspective on the capital during this era would be well served by reading this important novel.