Les Simulacres

Fernand Hibbert's final novel, Les Simulacres, is a short text satirizing the author's own social class in the context of the US Occupation (1915-1934). Published in 1923, when the author could not have foreseen exactly how the Occupation would conclude, it is often ambivalent about the American presence. This is not an anti-Occupation work like the novels of the 1930s, but more akin to Hibbert's earlier works satirizing the Haitian bourgeoisie for their vanity, corruption, venality, and mismanagement of Haitian political, social, and economic life. As a far shorter text than, say, Les Thazar, and a smaller cast at that, it does not quite succeed in satirizing every social type among the Haitian upper-class, though it does reintroduce past characters such as Brion and Gérard Delhi. Brion, as one would expect from events in Les Thazar, has not married, is perhaps bitter, and seems to be amused by the various foibles of his social class.

By reviving past characters, Hibbert's former mouthpieces from the ancien regime can return as the this tale mocks the foolish and arrogant Hellénus Caton. Caton, a former politician who became wealthy through graft and corruption before the Occupation, is now ardently opposed to the Americans (but only due to their refusal to consider him for the post of president). Being a Simulacre means one who uses "mensonges derrière lesquels les hommes masquent la vérité, ou leur intérêts et leurs appétits." He falls prey to a Cuban swindler who proceeds to conjure a story of occult knowledge and miracles so that he has an excuse to get close to Cephise, Caton's beautiful wife. Needless to say, Pablo Alcantara makes a fool of Caton, having him wait outside in the middle of the night, nude, looking at the moon, while he proceeds to make love to his wife for seven consecutive nights. In short, this is the basic plot of the text, a Cuban foreigner swindling a Haitian bourgeois male of wealth and women. Brion, as perhaps the only redeeming bourgeois, intervenes to ensure a (somewhat) happy ending in which Cephise stays with her husband, but Caton never recovers.

Like Brion in Les Thazar, Caton cannot compete with the foreign male, although in this case Pablo Alcantara is not a successful German but another faker, from a country also under the tutelage of the US. Since Hibbert was the Haitian consul in Cuba, one can presume his use of a Cuban Simulacre is itself part of the text's anti-imperialist critique, as Pablo Alcantara knows very well how Cuba, like Haiti, is a pawn in the US Empire. Hibbert, stationed in Santiago de Cuba, would have known very well the degree to which US influence was paramount in the neighboring Caribbean nation, and may have possessed solidarity for Cubans based on past alliances against imperialism before Cuban independence. Perhaps Hibbert was trying to suggest, much like Naipaul several decades later, how the people of the Caribbean have become mimic men, lacking in proper comportment as befits independent people of independent nations. Pablo Alcantara, much like Caton, is another such case, exploiting the ignorance and credulity of others in much the same way Caton and his ilk have done similar actions in Haiti before the US Occupation. Thus, Pablo Alcantara is an interesting type of foreigner in the works of Hibbert, possibly a callback to the various Caribbean peoples represented on the ship en route to France in Séna. He likewise represents a change in the Haitian elite perception of Cubans as positive immigrants in Haiti, since he does not produce, teach, apprentice, or employ anyone.

As is the case with Les Thazar, most of the plot advances through the dialogue of these aforementioned characters (plus their domestics and a few additional acquaintances). So it is often through their exchanges that much of the novel's humor derives. These conversations entail Cato the Younger, ancient Rome's rise and fall, Creole and French in Haitian literature, the Cuban passion for love and duels, education and literacy campaigns, the motivations of the Occupation (to build a naval base?), the lack of unity among Haitians, and the lack of rain in Port-au-Prince. The novel's final chapter addresses the reader, specifically the Haitian mother, to raise their children to obey and never lie, to produce a better generation of citizens and ensure the survival of the nation. Using Rome, imperial Germany, tsarist Russia, and the "Orient" as examples of what happens when the lack of liberty takes hold and injustice prevails, leading to social decay or ruin, the novel adopts a direct moralizing tone. While this detracts from the bitterly satirical tone of the rest of the text, it makes it clear how the US Occupation, in the eyes of Hibbert, has not uprooted the Simulacres and fakers, and a return to ancien regime ways will lead down a path toward destruction.

Needless to say, Hibbert's account does not include the caco resistance or nascent unrest from the peasantry or lower classes. The Haitian workers in Cuba, with whom Hibbert was fully aware, do not enter into the picture despite Cuban emigration being a key aspect of the US Occupation's influence. A communist revolution or "Grand Soir" of Delhi are only mentioned humorously, suggestive of the venal and ignorant nature of Caton and the fear of popular revolt. So one presumes that Haiti's salvation will be found among the non-Simulacre of the elite. They alone will be able to direct the nation progressively during and after the occupation and ensure a return to full liberty of the press and other rights. They, and only they, can ensure expanded primary education and adult literacy, with the recent example of Lunarchsky in the Soviet Union cited positively. Unsurprisingly, Hibbert's Simulacres is thus a continuation of the same class and gender politics of his early novels, but accompanied by a heightened sense of alarm at the prospects of national survival if the Simulacres are not held at bay after the Americans leave. Unfortunately, the Simulacres never left after 1934...

Les Thazar

Fernand Hibbert's Les Thazar is an endlessly entertaining social satire of the Port-au-prince upper classes. Written over a century ago, it depicts the long-lost Haiti Thomas of our forebears, focusing on the corrupt and venal upper-classes in the capital. The Thazar family, once rich, have lost their fortune. Madame Thazar pushes for the marriage of her daughter, Cecile, to a wealthy German so the family can maintain their status and rank in Port-au-Prince society. In order to accomplish this, the materialistic wife  is willing to sacrifice anything and everything to keep up appearances and ensure her two children will not descend the social ladder. Needless to say, the Thazar home in Turgeau also attracts a number of suitors for the hand of Cecile (as well as family friends, mostly from the Haitians of their social rank), providing the narrator an excuse to satirize various types of the Haitian bourgeoisie and corrupt politicians. This is very much a dialogue-driven narrative, with a tragic conclusion to its satirical content. One cannot help but wonder if Haitian elites a century ago had such dim hopes for Haiti then, what are they thinking today?

Foreigners, particularly Germans and French, also provide cannon fodder for the satire as their outsider view of Haiti provides great comedic relief. Ravet, for instance, has the most difficult experience trying to get his landlord, Madame Thazar, to fix his leaky roof. During his long discourse with Madame Thazar, we learn about his disobedient domestic, who is also a part-time tailor, and the various ways in which life in Haiti is upside down. Or, for that matter, the constant questions from Cresson, who is following Ravet around Port-au-Prince on the streetcar one day. In the end, Ravet agrees to pay for the repairs to the roof, but it is another instance of Haiti as a an aberrant place to the foreign mind. The question of race is often part of this, with Haitians speaking of news of lynchings in the US, Booker T. Washington (perhaps a message of vocational schools and practicality for the Haitian educational system, instead of effete and useless bourgeois like those in the novel?), the Anglo-Boer war in South Africa and British imperialism's positive impact on the "natives") and a naturalized Haitian who renounces citizenship, Alphonse Laubepin. Alphonse Laubepin, who is presumably of mixed racial origins from the French Antilles, refuses to see himself as one of the black race, and is constantly reminded of his racial origins by Cresson. This amusing episode is likely an allusion to the pattern of some mixed-race immigrants of the French Antilles refusing to take Haitian citizenship and using their status as French subjects for additional privileges in Haiti.  Of course, the iniquitous color question also rears its ugly head among Haitians themselves, a "political" issue which shapes how the bourgeois characters relate to each other and their non-elite compatriots in matters of love, class, language, and culture. 

Impressively, Hibbert transports the reader to the Port-au-Prince of the early 20th century. The German commercial and financial dominance of Haiti was palpable, and foreigners were protected from the excesses and corruption of the Haitian government better than Haitian citizens. Unsurprisingly, Madame Thazar prefers to marry her daughter to the German Schlieden than any Haitian suitor, reasoning that they will be unable to look after her material interests with the utmost security. Lamertume, a darker-hued Haitian "nephew" of Monsieur Thazar, is ambitious but utterly lacking in honor, wealth, and merit, so he is quickly rejected. Lionel Brion, who descends from a great family and was educated in France, also wishes to marry her, but is similarly rejected for not being wealthy. The "bourgeois" of Haiti are, in short, vain, corrupt, materialistic, and concerned only for themselves or their primal instincts. And, while Madame Thazar, Titus Baudouin, Cresson, Madame Apice, and a plethora of the characters in the novel exemplify all the aforementioned flaws, counter-examples such as Lionel Brion and Dr. Remo prove the exception to the rule. Unfortunately, in Haiti mediocrity and corruption reign supreme, so exceptional men of the upper-classes, who would and could transform and place Haiti on the path to progress, are unable to achieve their goals or find happiness. Lionel Brion never recovers from his love and loss of Cecile, Delhi has isolated himself at Mariani with a lower-class woman he abuses as his lover and servant. 

Perhaps like the case of Romulus, another novel by Hibbert but set in Miragoane during the "disturbances" of 1883, Hibbert was driven by exploring the theme of the frustrated bourgeois reformers, whose hopes are dashed by Haitian reality. Trevier or the proponents of Bazelais, in that novel, and Brion, in Les Thazar, are both ruined by their experiences, seemingly common to anyone who endeavors to go against the grain of materialism and mediocrity. Hibbert appears to infuse both novels with a pervasive pessimism as the Haitian bourgeois male has proven himself unable to save Haiti or those who should be theirs (their families, and wives). Another contemporary writer of Hibbert's, Justin Lherisson, also explored this theme even more humorously in La Famille Des Pitite Caille, where the rise and fall of a bourgeois family demonstrates the vacuity, corruption and  avarice of the bourgeois paterfamilias. It would take another generation before Haitian writers would look to the masses, with Jacques Roumain being part of that transition through the peasant novel. Perhaps not coincidentally, Roumain married the daughter of Hibbert, and it took Roumain's generation to begin the shift from the elite-focus of Hibbert. 

Romulus

Fernand Hibbert

Romulus, first published in 1908, is Haitian novelist Fernand Hibbert's fictionalized version of the 1883 siege of Miragoâne during the Salomon presidency. Recently translated into English for the first time by Matthew Robertshaw, the novella explores life in the Haitian port town before and after the unrest. As the translator's introduction elucidates, an appeal to discourse is one of the messages of the novel, written at a time of rapidly declining Haitian political stability. Using the politically turbulent period of Salomon's presidency (and the dangers of absolutism and corruption), Hibbert's novel subtly comments on the instability of Haiti in 1908, such as the lack of a Haitian middle-class or commerce class, for instance (often with a sense of humor, too, particularly in the first section of the book, which introduces Romulus, the town, and the pace of life). 

Furthermore, Romulus, the titular character, a police commissioner in Miragoâne, exploits his position for personal gain, as does the Commandant and local merchants, to smuggle goods custom-free through the port, thereby depriving Haiti of revenue. Romulus, and his children through two 'wives' or women, symbolize Haiti (black and mulatto are his wives), and his family, by extension the entire city of Miragoâne, represent a troubled country. However, when relatively free from Port-au-Prince and the 'Restorer,' Salomon, life in Miragoane appears idyllic and lively, because the author compares the town to a beautiful women, yet its corrupted, overtaken, and besieged as a result of the exiles returning from Jamaica, led by Boyer-Bazelais (whose death is fictionalized in this tale) and his Liberal principles. 

Of course, some of his supporters do not even understand the political reasons why they oppose Salomon (Romulus included), and Boyer-Bazelais is operating on the assumption that all the towns of Haiti will rise up in opposition to the tyrant Salomon, including Jacmel, the 'Iron Coast' and Jérémie, where the exile revolutionaries also landed. In short, the Bazelaists planned poorly, and Boyer-Bazelais himself is depicted as foolisly relying on Providence for his movement to succeed. Later, he comes to realize that the true beginnings of liberal government in Haiti will not manifest until a popular demand by the people themselves calls for it, which implies the growth of a middle class and Haitian economic development, which will force politicians and the military to recognize them. 

This in directly tied with the political philosophy of non-involvement, characterized by the Haitian elite Mr. Trévier, an exporter of coffee and logwood (also friend of Romulus and Merlin, a Haitian caught up in the intellectual and political fervor of Bazelaisism) who refuses to get involved in politics, preferring to engage in business and commerce to slowly and gradually support Haitian merchants and capitalists, thereby paving the path for a larger middle class-class (which is an idea recognized by Haitian intellectuals of the late 19th century and early 20th century as one of the reasons Haiti's political system was so turbulent and weak). Yet this path is not a solution to Haiti's woes because, as a result of the political instability and siege, the exile revolutionaries requisition some of his goods and all of his assets are lost in the fires and battles that consume the city. Even the military, the only "organized structure" of Haiti, to paraphrase Trévier, cannot ensure stability for business.

Thus, I read the novel as offering a reconciliation of sorts, between political idealism and revolutionary movements (which, unlike Bazelaism, actually reach out to the masses)  and economic self-determination. Oddly, the author of the text wrote this at at time when foreign economic penetration of Haiti was so completely entrenched, one has no idea how such a goal would be achievable in the early 20th century, and a more radical approach of empowering the peasantry directly is certainly not explored in this text. 

As for the structure of the novel, it makes quite the rapid transition from its early chapters, which focus on Romulus and introduce the town, and then the several chapters on the battles, bombardments, or casualties of the conflict. Including numerous historical figures, Hibbert has an annoying penchant in this novel for long lists of influential exiles and locals who joined the revolutionary movement. I am not sure why he does this, but the translator retains it. Perhaps it is to show how elite-dominated the movement was, thereby limiting its success? I am also perplexed by Hibbert's choice of title, and the brief allusion to Cinette, who dies suddenly. Unless her death is an ominous sign of the forthcoming revolutionary movement, it is out of place.

Regardless, the novel is an interesting exploration of Haiti's political discord with a focus outside of Port-au-Prince. Even at a time when Haiti's export economy is portrayed as healthy, conflict over political office, the spoils of corruption, etc. ruin the chance to develop the economy. Moreover, as a novel first published in 1908, Hibbert succeeds in painting a portrait of provincial town life, with negative as well as positive attributes. Romulus, his large family (which is related to everyone in  Miragoâne by blood or godparents), the influence of the Catholic Church, political favoritism or corruption, as well as the strict class divide reveal an important era in Haitian history, one in which the US Occupation swiftly followed years of Haitian political fratricide. 

Favorite Quotes

"In those days,  Miragoâne was a prosperous and lively town."

"Romulus's defining characteristic consisted in this: he preferred high society. He was perfectly willing to commit himself against a man from the country, no matter how honest, if the man was in a dispute with a notable from the city--in this way Romulus was the most abject of scoundrels."

"Oh! That Romulus, he knew how to sway a person with his political rhetoric. He'd speak of generosity while at the same time working for his own good at the expense of the public. He was quite a modern man."

"Since Dessalines, people had kept trying to restore this poor country, a country that only wanted one thing: to be left in peace."