Vinland Sagas

Reading Kuneva Kunz's translations of The Saga of the Greenlanders and The Saga of Erik the Red is quite unlike the other sagas. Instead of the very detailed genealogies and tales of feuds and battles in Iceland, Scandinavia or Europe (there's a bit of it, however), these short sagas focus on exploration and settlement of Greenland and part of North America's mainland. The second of the two provides a bit more information on the native societies encountered by the Norse, particularly the trade in pelts for cloth and the regrettable violence. Through this saga we learn that two native boys were taken and baptized, and thus it provides us with the earliest known references to indigenous people who could speak or a European language. The saga, although stressing how the settlers realized the native population's hostility made any long-term residence unwise, hints at possible future ties through this trade in pelts. Perhaps the two indigenous children could have acted as interpreters for Greenland settlers sailing to Vinland. Moreover, archaeologists know about at least one site in Newfoundland that was inhabited for some time, so perhaps relations with the indigenous population improved. Just pure speculation on our part, of course. But interesting to ponder global connections that may have linked the Americas and the rest of the world before 1492. 

Continuum

Time travel is really hard to write about. Continuum went from being a great show exploring the moral ambiguity of time travel and terrorism against corporate dictatorship to becoming a convoluted mess in the third and fourth seasons. Although still worth completing, it's always tragic to see a science fiction show with great potential go astray. Nevertheless, this show made me fall in love with Vancouver while providing several hours of action-packed entertainment. I can't believe I somehow missed this show during the Occupy years and thereafter, since it seems to be a perfect accompaniment to ponder the criticisms of high finance and corporate plunder. 

Moreover, despite its later decline, I appreciated the show's complex ending, which doesn't choose the easy way out for Kiera's character. Moreover, the coming together and dissolution of Liber8 and the complex conflicts playing out across timelines are perfect for those who adore science fiction mumbo jumbo. Compared to Dark Matter, this show aims higher in terms of its message, but the dominance of corporations in the future settings of both programs seem to be a telling feature of science fiction of our day. The zaibatsus of Gibson have taken on a life of their own. 

Dark Matter

It's always particularly wounding when a great science fiction show on the cusp of greatness is canceled too soon. Unfortunately, such was the fate for Dark Matter, a quirky show about the infamous crew of the Raza. Set in our galaxy but 600 years in the future, the show uses just about every science fiction trope, with cyberpunk's powerful corporations, an oppressive Galactic Authority government, and space western's outlaw feel. The show's special effects were far from the best, and writers did at times drop plotlines immediately without ever returning to it, but the show's creator had sketched it out to only last 5 seasons, which would have brought closure and ended the show on an even more interesting note. The third season cliffhanger just leaves us wanting more. The good things about this show far outweighed the bad and ugly.

The negative features of the show are most likely the budget for special effects, poor acting from a handful of actors, an eager desire to slap together too many science fiction tropes and perhaps, the pacing of the episodes. The special effects are usually okay, but there are moments when it looks particularly hokey and cheap. But that's okay, not every science fiction show will or can have a big budget. It didn't especially detract from the visual sense of wonder and darker palette of the show. Lamentably, the poor acting from a few characters did weaken the series, especially in the case of Ryo and a few recurring guests. Lines were not believable, and it became a bit of a chore to sit through episodes centered on Ryo Ishida. Fortunately, Ishida's character was usually silent, but a few episodes centered on the space-age feudal Japanese-inspired Zairon Empire were a little much. 

One cannot help but think trying to throw samurai swords and civilizations inspired by Japan may have been an unnecessary move, although physical combat and martial arts are prevalent for the crew of the Raza. Moreover, can one really have anything cyberpunk without some absurd references to Japan (thanks, Gibson)? But what truly strikes the viewer is the strange way certain episodes were plotted. A beginning, middle, climax, and conclusion would often be followed by some immediately outrageous or hastened threat, giving the show a feel of constant instability without any lapse or moment for reprieve. When one recalls shows like Firefly, which clearly influenced Dark Matter, a similar episode structure does not ring a bell. Indeed, perhaps the pacing of the show played a role in the dropping of plotlines, including some that would have brought closure to departed members of the crew. 

Despite the aforementioned problems with the show, it's still a tremendously entertaining thrill. Thirteen episodes per season makes it easier to binge or revisit, unlike some of the better but infinitely longer science fiction series. The world-building of the show works very well, showing various colonies, the negative impact of the unrestrained corporations, and the satellites and planets of the galaxy. Having the memories of the ship's diverse crew erased was a useful plot device for getting viewers to identify with the characters since we were learning about the ship and its crew just as the characters were. In addition, some of the crew are clearly based on well-known series, like Three being a Jayne-like character. Fans of science fiction can appreciate these character archetypes and genre references.

The character development of the crew as they come to regain their memories brings to the table a number of moral quandaries, the meaning of friendship, and ethical decisions when there are no good choices. Backstabbing, trust, relationships, and the common glue of the crew, 5 and the Android, provide the requisite amount of emotional content to match the show's addiction to action sequences. The Android, who has an emotional chip, really starts to shine as a sentient being. Her existence forces the viewer to confront "anthropoarchy," and the moral dilemmas of the virtual enslavement of robots. Clearly, the show had a story arc prepared to explore that in subsequent seasons, but now we will never know. The anti-corporate and anti-centralized authority of the show, however, also lend credence to the influence of Firefly and cyberpunk, although Dark Matter, in my opinion, brilliantly did not take itself too seriously. The time travel episode in the final season is an amazing example of that.

That's the magical formula for the show across all three seasons. While certainly addressing important themes of technology, capitalism, ramifications of time travel, precog cults, corporate heists, parallel dimensions, and alien beings, the show's quirky sense of humor often prevailed. Even when there were moments that didn't make sense, that quirkiness saved the show. A quirky, unique sense of humor is what retained my attention. Perhaps the Canadian actors and approach to science fiction, assuming such a thing exists, also works to its advantage when winning over American viewers. Canadians are not in the center of Empire, but close enough, giving them a unique perspective on the problems of the present (and the future). With just one additional season, the show could have wrapped things up seamlessly with its quirky humor. 

Digging Up the Mountains: Stories By Neil Bissoondath

"He saw the earth, as from space, streams of people in continuous motion, circling the sphere in search of the next stop which, they always knew, would prove temporary in the end."

Neil Bissoondath's short story collection, Digging Up the Mountains, features the praise of his uncle, V.S. Naipaul, and Bissoondath, like Shiva Naipaul, is trapped in that wider shadow. Unlike them, Bissoondath, who choses Canada over Britain, has some commonalities with Ladoo and Selvon, but combined with a similar worldview of his uncles on colonialism and independence. Many of the short stories featured in this collection are quite short and appear to be character sketches or material with light humor, but none come close to the satirical masterpieces of his uncle's short fiction. And, excluding the detailed portrait of a confined Japanese woman, the best tales here feature Trinidad and Trinidadians in Toronto, perhaps because it's the world the young Bissoondath knew so well at the time. A touch of authenticity in the dialogue and vernacular of some of the Trinidadian characters goes so well, and he almost reaches the lofty heights of Vidia and Shiva in terms of Trinidadian social satire and post-colonial traumas. I will have to read his future Caribbean-inspired novels. 

Stories Recommended

1. "Dancing": Narrated by a lower-class black Trinidadian women, one gets a feel for the Trinidadian vernacular that I have come to love in Selvon and early Naipaul. Rich and perhaps politically incorrect take on West Indian migrants in Toronto, but makes for hilarious reading. One may find a kernel of truth in this tale, but, unfortunately, being who he is, Bissoondath seems to mock the very idea of racism or prejudice against Caribbean people in Canada. 

2. "Digging Up the Mountains": Trinidadian setting, political commentary, somewhat typical yet intriguing dark tale of the 'Global South.'

3. "The Revolutionary": Hilarious portrait of  West Indian radical. I am quite sure I strongly disagree with Bissoondath on politics and multiculturalism, but sometimes he nails it. This piece is one example. Reminiscent of Naipaul's "Guerrillas" and some of Shiva Naipaul's commentary on the colonial left.

4. "The Cage": Narrated by a Japanese woman bound by freedom and tradition. Surprisingly comes off as a fully fleshed character, and somewhat reminiscent of V.S. Naipaul's "One Out of Many," but with more plausible female characters. 

5. "Insecurity": Amusing tale on the worried self-made rich Indo-Trinidadian who finds out that financial security and flight to the north isn't quite what you think.

No Pain Like This Body

Harold Sonny Ladoo's No Pain Like This Body quite different from Yesterdays. Although both novels share a raw, earthy, and unsentimental portrait of the lives of Indian peasants on a fictionalized Trinidad, local dialect for the dialogue of the uneducated, poor characters, and a bleak future, No Pain Like This Body features children as central to the plot, especially in their worldview, one in which jumbies, jables, lougawou, God, and death can be flexible to meet their shifting fears, hopes, and comprehension. Furthermore, the plot is not as straightforward, and the early chapters are dedicated to describing the experience of Rama, Panday, Sunaree, Balraj and their Ma after the abusive father beats his children and chases them into the rain on a tempestuous night on Carib Island. So, Ladoo's book is a slice of life in these downtrodden characters with some dark humor at the wake for Rama, yet one in which there's no escape from the black, heartless sky. Incredibly dark read but worthwhile for a different approach by an Indo-Trinidadian writer on their community.

The wake chapter actually brought to mind Roumain's magnum opus, believe it or not. Yet, I have never encountered any peasant family or community in other Caribbean literatures in which despair is so perfectly captured by the locale, family, village, and writing. Sure, urban settings in some other Caribbean writings have come close, but nothing quite like this. The other writer who came to mind is Arundhati Roy, particularly Rahel and Estha in The God of Small Things. One wonders if Roy ever read Ladoo. Perhaps she took an interest in the Indian diaspora of the Caribbean while writing her excellent novel?

Yesterdays

"All the young scholars in Karan Settlement were doomed. The sugarcane estates were monsters; they were in the habit of yawning and swallowing the young men; those who were lucky enough to get away from the estates were trapped into a career of rum drinking and fighting."

Harold Sonny Ladoo's humorous novella, Yesterdays, tells the story of a frustrated young man, Poonwa, and his desire to establish a Hindu Mission to Canada to get back at the Canadian Mission School (and colonialism generally speaking) for his years of physical abuse and torment. The son of unlettered Indian cane cutters, who, after 30 years, have a house in Karan Settlement, Poonwa, his family, and the village community are, as Ladoo's focus on excreta and depravity illustrates, full of shit. The Hindu priest, Pandit Puru, takes advantage of the community's religious faith for profit, everyone is cheating on everyone else, and, despite a general anti-gay atmosphere, a very fluid sexuality in which many men "bull" the village queer, Sook. 

The reader really does sympathize with Poonwa and his grandiose schemes for vengeance against the white colonizers for their abuse of the Indians and Negroes of this fictionalized Trinidad, yet it becomes very clear that he cannot read Hindi, has no realistic plan for actually building a Hindu school in Canada, and is driven by hatred, fueled by nightmares of his abusive Canadian schoolteacher and her white Jesus. On the other hand, the future of rum drinking and nothingness is a prevalent fear, one driving his mother, Basdai, to push her husband, Choonilal, to mortgage the house to fund Poonwa's lofty Mission. 

For those eager to read an amusing account of a village community in 1955, Ladoo's Yesterdays is quite worthwhile, yet a little underwhelming for those who expected to read about Poonwa's Canada failures. At the end of the day, it's probably unnecessary to include that, and we should enjoy the topsy-turvy world of 1950s Carib Island and its complex class, colonial, and religious tensions. For those reasons, Ladoo's novella is an extremely amusing read with a humanizing portrait of a society where everyone is lying, cheating, screwing, and exploiting each other. The Hindu priest, Choonilal, the daily intercessions of the Hindu gods through dreams, and last, but certainly not least, a disturbing emphasis on defecation or transgressive sexual acts will keep you laughing throughout.

The World Is Moving Around Me: A Memoir of the Haiti Earthquake

"All some commentator has to do is say the word "curse" on the airwaves and it spreads like a cancer. Before they can move on to voodoo, wild men, cannibalism, and a nation of blood-drinkers, they'll see that I have enough energy to fight them."

The strength of The World Is Moving Around Me: A Memoir of the Haiti Earthquake lies in its similarities with the fictional works of Dany Laferrière and the long-term translator, David Homel. Dany Laferrière's established style of blending fact and fiction in multiple semi-autobiographical novels made the disjointed structure of this novel accessible and interesting. One feels as if one already knows Laferrière's family quite well from the fictionalized versions of them in his novels. 

Indeed, one should read his fiction before tackling this memoir, since the novels establish who many of his family are and why their suffering, albeit light compared with the havoc the earthquake wrought for the poorer masses, is so meaningful for Laferrière. When his elderly aunt passes after the earthquake and he returns to Petit-Goave twice, I would be lying if I said I was not moved by his nostalgia and the powerful memories of his grandmother (the relationship between a boy and his grandmother is also alluded to in the play of a grandmother and her grandson in Port-au-Prince in the days after the earthquake). Laferrière also structures the memoir stylistically and in content like his fiction: numerous vignettes, short chapters, several literary allusions, a sense of humor, poetic language, sharing stories of literary and journalist friends, references to the importance of his mother and the women who raised him. 

Unfortunately, this somber reflection on surviving the earthquake and experiencing the aftershocks (figuratively and literally) is weakened by the author's constant praise of 'culture.' While distancing himself from those who praise 'voodoo' or sensationalize the Haitian people's ability to keep living on after the horrendous tremor as somehow 'resilience' or the other side who approach Haiti as a 'cursed' nation, it sounds simply ridiculous to look to culture (and, to be fair, the author does define it as more than written, elite culture or the school of naive paintings) as the only way for Haiti to stand up to the earthquake. 

It seems as if  Laferrière wants to avoid any overt political messages, but given the vast inequalities that characterize Haitian society (something he acknowledges with the Haitian elite villas only occupied for part of the year in Mount Calvary), one cannot help but express some surprise at the seemingly apolitical text. While critical of foreign constructs of Haiti (and calling out the Haitian government's corruption), without any real political solutions addressing class, it is left to the reader's imagination as to how culture can stand up to the earthquake. Furthermore, his own bias against religion seems to automatically push to the margins some aspects of Haitian culture which are particularly strong.

Despite my minor quibbles, this memoir is certainly a worthwhile read for those interested in Haitian or Haitian-Canadian responses to the catastrophe that leveled Port-au-Prince. Dany Laferrière manages to capture the humanity of the people of Port-au-Prince in a highly personal way that prompts the reader to rethink their assumptions about Haiti. While certainly lacking in detail (he never spent much time in the tent cities, and he left Port-au-Prince with other Canadian citizens soon after the first few days and only returned later after his aunt dies) of the kind one finds in journalistic writings, Laferrière tells the story of the earthquake as it affected him, his immediate family, and friends. 

Frankétienne,  Rodney Saint-Éloi, Lyonel Trouillot, Michel-Rolph Trouillot, Thomas Spear, radio hosts, Georges and Mireille Anglade, and other well-known literary or intellectual figures appear in the text, providing a sort of litany for Haitian intellectuals and writers. The text's ending is also classic Dany, ending in a metatextual way as he describes himself finishing the writing of the very text we are reading from a Paris hotel room. 

Eroshima

"Incredible! The idea for this book came upon me one day, suddenly. An image. This one: a young couple making love in the city of Hiroshima, the morning of the atomic Bomb, in 1945. The Bomb falls at the very instant they attain orgasm. Eros and Hiroshima. Eroshima. Sex and Death. The world's two oldest myths."

Eroshima is one of Dany Laferrière's weaker novels. While hardly a single narrative (the text shifts to different characters, sometimes famous individuals as well as the autobiographical narrator), the themes of sex and death are explored by the black writer who examines Japan, identity, interracial romance, and the constant threat of destruction wrought by the Bomb. Thus, at the most basic or primordial level, the text is about life and death, creation and destruction. Unfortunately, the novel does not really go anywhere as in other Laferrière novels, but I do love the intertextuality, allusions, and influence this work has one future works, especially Dining With the Dictator and I Am a Japanese Writer, which feature lesbianism, Japanese culture and literature, a group of young women, and even some of the same characters. 

Laferrière's sense of humor is engaging and includes fictionalized versions of famous writers, including V.S. Naipaul, visiting Port-au-Prince with the young women who appear in Dining With the Dictator. Haiku, Japanese tea ceremonies and cuisine, and even Basquiat populate this bizarre and seemingly disjointed novel. As in other tales by the author, the city of Montreal (also, New York City) is the main setting of this story in which the fictionalized version of the author comments on race relations and interracial sex, just as in How To Make Love to a Negro Without Getting Tired. Laferrière's gift for prose also helps carry this novel. Last, but certainly not least, I am impressed by how many objects or persons symbolize the Bomb in this text. It's rich in detail, description, and humor for such a short read. 

Favorite Quotes

"The battle of Zen and Voodoo."

"The first man on the planet was black. The last will be black, too. A Negro in repose."

"The volcanic sexuality of the jungle versus the careful sensuality of Kyoto, Black versus yellow."

"Lennon died so a Negro could make it with a Japanese girl."

"Lao Tsu says that everything comes to he who knows how to stay in bed."

"The fate of Judeo-Christian civilization hangs in the balance, at this very moment, between a black and a Japanese woman born in Los Angeles."

"One of those sunsets whose beauty burns your eyes. A marvel of copper fusion. A show of incredible delicacy created by pollution. There's nothing like smog to create such magnificent sunsets."

"I am interested only in cliches, and the foremost cliche concerning Japan is eroticism."

"The Apocalypse will come, of that there is no doubt, on a magnificent summer's day. The kind of day when the girls are more splendid than ever. It has been said that no one will be recognizable afterwards."

The Enigma of the Return

"Only a journey without a return ticket can save us from family, blood and small-town thinking."

Laferrière's The Enigma of the Return is a mixture of verse and prose on identity and exile for an autobiographical narrator clearly based on Dany himself. After hearing of his father's death, the narrator, Windsor, returns "home" to Haiti and discovers more about himself, his family, and to which 'homeland' he truly belongs. Central to the narrative is one of Aimé Césaire's most important writings, a poem, Notebook of a Return to the Native Land, which greatly enhances this novel if one is familiar with it. Indeed, Laferriere seems to reject the "anger" of Césaire's significant text, and waxes poetic on the meaning of being an exile and the role of memory and childhood. Yet, the text contains some moving satire and critical passages on the state of Haiti, one in which the Haitian elite, the legacy of colonialism, and the Duvalier dictatorship share the blame for the sad state of Port-au-Prince and the countryside. 

In addition, there is more Vodou symbolism and metaphorical allusions to Haitian painting and culture in this text, making it, in my opinion, one of the author's best works since An Aroma of Coffee. Laferrière's ability to capture the beauty of the Haitian countryside, the colors, the dusty streets, and retain his passion for his 'homeland' while also being fully of the icy North is quite impressive (hats off to David Homel's translations). Furthermore, this work provides a sort of response to the Dalembert novel I recently read, coming from the Diaspora instead of focusing on those trapped in the island who have to leave to make a life for themselves. The novel asks some of the same questions about the flight of people to the North, whether or not one can stay and make a life by remaining in Haiti, and what it means to be an immigrant, a traveler, and what does home mean (similar to I Am a Japanese Writer, too). 

Favorite Quotes

"In my dream, Cesaire takes my father's place."

"We're stuck in a bad novel ruled by a tropical dictator who keeps ordering the beheading of his subjects."

"Entire populations travel northward in search of life."

"I miss my childhood more intensely than my country."

"For most people the hereafter is the only country they have any hope of visiting."

"If you're not thin when you're twenty in Haiti, it's because you're on the side of power."

"There are so few tourists in this country we should pay them to stay."

"The Tonton Macoutes of my era had to hide behind dark glasses. Serial killers. Papa Doc was the only star."

"Every family has its absent member in the group portrait. Papa Doc introduced exile to the middle class. Before, such a fate was reserved only for a president who fell victim to a pup or one of those rare intellectuals who could also be a man of action."

"Why stay in this mud hole mixed with shit trampled by crowds hemmed in by malarial anopheles when you could lead a dream life?"

"In the international media, Haiti always appears deforested. Yet I see trees everywhere."

"The owners reside in New York, Berlin, Paris, Milan, or even Tokyo. Like in the days of slavery when the real masters of Hispaniola lived in Bordeaux, Nantes La Rochelle, or Paris."

"Kidnapping has become such a lucrative business that the rich weren't going to miss out on the action for long."

"The night before, I drank some fruit juice from a stall along my way, just to prove that I was still a son of the soil. Nationalism can trick my mind, but not my guts."

"I had forgotten about culture in the provinces, so refined and so musty."

Why Must A Black Writer Write About Sex?

"Look at Haitian painting and you'll understand. The landscapes all look like the Garden of Eden. The fruit is too perfect. The fish are too big. The children's smiles are too wide. A dream country concocted to replace the real one."

Laferrière's unconventional novel draws from his own life to reflect on the meaning of success, race, gender, and what it means to be a black writer. Inspired by the success of his debut novel, Laferrière's fictionalized version of himself compiles a list of observations, travel experiences, conversations, and humorous commentary on the aforementioned themes, often critical of black cultural nationalism or the pigeon-holing of black writers (the hilarious dialogues with Spike Lee and Ice Cube are two great example). Unfortunately, Haiti is not an important part of the story, although the author does allude to Haiti for comedic effect and the arts, as well as references to Vodou, African history and religion. 

Given the lack of a plot and the very unusual format of this not quite novel written as a novel, some may not find this work as moving or enthralling as some of Laferrière's other work. Nonetheless, I enjoyed this one just as much as Ishmael Reed's best satirical novels and essays. Indeed, both writers tend not to approach issues of race, class, and gender from a dogmatic perspective, and exploit race and sexuality for hilarious commentary. 

How To Make Love To A Negro Without Getting Tired

Finally read this short but excellent (and hilarious) satire by Dany Laferrière. In some ways it was quite reminiscent of Salih's "Season of Migration To the North" in the explicit racial and sexual commentary on interracial relationships between white women and black women, the emphasis of the meta-textual story. Bouba and the narrator, two African immigrants (one from the Ivory Coast?) are working-class intellectuals living in Montreal who read the Koran, enjoy jazz (especially Bouba, the black Buddha who lives on his couch, reading Freud) consume literature (Miller, Bukowski, Hemingway, Baldwin, and a variety of other writers whose works I am not familiar with are alluded to), have sex with various types of white women (who serve as 'types' or models of various forms of white femininity) and white femininity's innate desire to rebel or undermine the moral order of Western civilization (where the black male/white female sex dynamic is part of the rupturing of white supremacy while also maintaining it through desire), and exposing the hypocritical liberal attitudes of Montreal, McGill, and Canada.

In that regard, Laferrière's satirical text, which at times seems to endorse embracing racial stereotypes of the black Other to make it with white women, leaves a more serious message about the prospects for racial equality for black immigrants in white-dominated countries, such as Canada. It ends on somewhat pessimistic terms, with the narrator completing his dream of finishing a novel about his life in a dream! But throughout all the satire and racial and gender commentary on life in the West, I see How To Make Love To A Negro as being a funny way of trying to address racial dynamics in society with a metaphor of white women and black men, given their unequal powers in societies and how deception and racial stereotypes prevent both black men and white women from seeing each other truly as individuals in their sexual relationships. Anyway, check out the short and fun novel for some laughs and some perspective on Black Montreal.

African America vs. African Canada

Contrary to Ishmael Reed's Flight to Canada perhaps leading one to think of the nation as a heaven for African-Americans, Canada and the US share a similar black-white inequality gap, despite the former's history of providing safe haven to runaway American slaves and the absence of Jim Crow policies. An amazing essay, "Black Canadians and black Americans: racial income inequality in comparative perspective" Paul Attewell , Philip Kasinitz & Kathleen Dunn provides some useful data based on income distribution. Although Blacks in both states share a broadly inferior income vs. whites, Canada's black-white gap is a little better, despite the study's authors finding that, once one removes controls, the gap is essentially the same. Interestingly, the aforementioned authors found that third or more generation Black Canadians, like African-American descendants of US slaves, shared a similarly lower educational profile and income than third or more generation whites. Like Afro-Caribbean and other Black immigrants in the US, however, first and second generation Afro-Canadians (overwhelmingly descendants of Anglophone Afro-Caribbean immigrants as well as Haitians and Africans) fare much better than third generation or more Blacks. They also disprove downward assimilation theory for second-generation blacks of Caribbean/African immigrant heritages in both the US and Canada.

French Colonial Portraiture of a Slave Woman

Beautiful piece with a woman wearing the typical tignon associated with slave women in the Caribbean and Louisiana. One site on Haitian culture uses the painting as an example of portraiture of a "Haitian" or Saint-Dominguan woman in the 18th century. Some refer to the piece as Portrait of a Haitian Woman or Portrait d'une femme haïtienne by François Malépart de Beaucourt in 1786. Regardless of her exact origins in France's vast 18th century colonial empire, images like these of enslaved people are fascinating from a personal and historical perspective.