Dram Zafra

Joel Lorquet's Dram Zafra was another one of his socially conscious graphic novels on an important topic or theme of modern Haiti. In this case, Haitian braceros who cut sugarcane in the Dominican Republic, but also touching upon other themes like migration and exploitation. Like his other comics, this one features some interesting storytelling but underdeveloped art. That said, this short work, through telling the tale of 3 Haitian men who go cut cane in the DR to escape misery but only find more suffering and deprivation, is emotionally powerful. One of the 3 men dies in the Dominican Republic, another loses an arm for sleeping with a married Dominican woman, and the third, Murat, is imprisoned for entering the Dominican Republic illegally. The two survivors who eventually make it back to Haiti, one via a prison escape and the other after 6 months of living in the batey, return to their old lives with new ideas and conceptions of their experience abroad. Indeed, one, Murat, connects the bracero system to slavery while the armless Jean-Orius opens a boutique or shop. It is a shame Lorquet did not continue to write and illustrate stories in Haitian Creole. If his work was written in the standard Haitian Creole orthography and he was open to new genres, perhaps more Haitians would have followed in his footsteps and Haiti would have developed better comics. Nonetheless, Lorquet's socially relevant work addresses major issues Haiti faced during the 1980s while attempting to show the dignity of poorer Haitians. 

Regrèt Nèt

Joel Lorquet's 1981 graphic novel, Regrèt Nèt, is an interesting read on a tragic subject: boat people. Written at a time when the boat people crisis was more frequent and demonization of Haitians was on the rise, it tells the tale of an unfortunate man whose miraculous survival ends in humiliation and defeat. While Lorquet's art style is a little too simplistic for my taste, he manages to convey in words and illustration the shame, fear, suffering, and all-too-human pain of misery that compels one to risk one's life in search of opportunity. The only other writer who has managed to capture the life of Haitian boat people like this is Edwidge Danticat in Krik Krak. Like Danticat's later short story, Lorquet's graphic novel conveys the full scope of the eponymous character's motivations for leaving Haiti as well as the harrowing journey doomed to end in tragedy.

I have long thought of slave ships when reading disheartening stories of boat people drowning at sea. The fate of Regrèt Nèt's ship brings this home. Indeed, the ship is destroyed a storm and crashing into reefs, which leads to many on board committing suicide. Although their trip to Miami was only to last 2 days, they're at sea for over a week without enough supplies. The crammed conditions below the deck, with an insufferable heat, are full of hungry people who paid 500 gourdes to risk their lives on this voyage. Tempers are wearing thin, and a fight over a bowl of mayi moulen leads to one man drowning. The dehumanizing conditions of their voyage have turned the passengers against each other. I can see the parallels with our enslaved ancestors who arrived in this hemisphere in similar conditions: crammed  together like sardines, suffering inhumane treatment, subjected to all forms of violence. 

While Regrèt Nèt miraculously survives by grasping a part of the destroyed boat until a ship en route to Puerto Rico rescues him, his fate and backstory are illustrative of the boatpeople dilemma in several ways. First, upon arrival in Puerto Rico, he is forced to take a variety of jobs which he would never have done in Haiti, such as domestic work and cleaning cars. After 8 months of grueling labor that he considered beneath him in Haiti (where he worked as a teacher in a rural school), he is arrested, humiliated, and deported by plane to Haiti, without his 8 months of saving. All of his labor and near-death experiences achieved nothing for him. Thus, he chooses to change his name to Regrèt Nèt, as his decision to try his luck in the land of his dreams achieved nothing but humiliation and shame. Indeed, he sacrificed his life as a schoolteacher, his land, and made promises to his wife and children that will go unfulfilled. 

The overall message of the comic is to urge those considering the risky venture of illegal migration by sea to reconsider. Yet it is very clear how and why the miserable living conditions in Haiti contribute to the pattern and cause many, including the educated Regrèt Nèt, to sacrifice his post as a teacher to find a solution in Mayami. But the multiple layers of exploitation and, for most, death via suicide or shipwreck, illustrate just how persistent the crisis was throughout the 1980s. Unfortunately, just how horrendous conditions were for those detained in centers is not mentioned in the graphic novel, but one can see hints of it in the callous treatment some officers have for Regrèt Nèt in Puerto Rico. Unsurprisingly, the graphic novel avoids any overt reference to the Duvalier dictatorship in fomenting the humanitarian disaster, but a corrupt local officer is bribed before the ship departs from Haiti. Thus, there is Haitian state complicity in the sordid affair.

Lorquet's graphic novel is also interesting to compare with Fanfan's adaptation of Masters of the Dew in Haitian Creole. While Lorquet continues to use French for the narration of his comic, both Fanfan and Lorquet use Creole for the dialogue and appear to have a vision of comics as a medium for the masses. Fanfan was likely the superior artist, since his characters and style are more vivid and memorable, including background scenes or scenery. It would also be interesting to discover to what extent both knew of each other and saw a future for comics in 1980s Haiti, particularly in the media which became increasingly critical of Jean-Claude Duvalier  and successive governments. Were comics to play a didactic role using the vernacular to reach the widest possible audience? What was the relationship between the medium and movements such as ti-legliz?

Met Larouzé

Fanfan's Met Larouzé, a Creole comics adaptation of Jacques Roumain's famous novel is a worthwhile read. In addition to translating Roumain's already linguistically intriguing novel into Creole, Fanfan also visualizes the story of Manuel and Fond Rouge in a compelling way. The depiction of the habitants of the region, suffering from a long drought and general misery, is detailed, showing to an almost painful degree the travails the Haitian population of the era thought. The comic is also very faithful to the original novel, perhaps embellishing or providing additional context here or there that might have been missing from the novel (such as the setting being near Crois des Bouquets). The Creole vocabulary used throughout also may change the meaning of some moments in the plot. For instance, Manuel being called chef of the syndicat (sindicat) instead of the konbit might be a hint towards the resurgence of labor in Haiti near the end of Jean-Claude Duvalier's regime. 

Unfortunately, since the comic does not use the standardized orthography for Haitian Creole I am most familiar with, there are a number of words I struggled to translate or find English or French equivalents for, but that's mostly my problem for not being a fluent speaker. Moreover, backgrounds for the panels are usually not depicted or very detailed, highlighting the centrality of the people themselves and their role in changing their fortune and environment. Of course, when Manuel shows Annaise the source of the water, the Eden-like setting comes to life vividly, without color. Otherwise, we get mostly pastoral and rural scenes, domestic scenes, or meetings at Larivoua's house. Again, the people of Fond Rouge are centered, especially Manuel's mother, Delira.

Delira, it would seem, experiences the most personal and psychological growth. Through her son's sacrifice and her own seizing of destiny, she rejects fatalistic notions of religion (Catholicism and Vodou), and becomes a heroic figure in her own right. Whereas the novel, if I remember correctly, featured a less determined, free-willed Delira, this comic book highlights her role. Once more, I cannot help but wonder if this possible change is due to the political climate of the early 1980s and Bon Nouvel's socially conscious, and culturally affirming journal. The Haitian community here, torn apart by a family feud and poverty, must come together and adapt their traditions to save themselves, which must have been relevant to audiences growing sick of Baby Doc.

It would be useful to compare this to the few other Haitian comics produced in the 1980s by Lorquet, whose comics were original stories with socially relevant commentary on Haitian migrant workers, boatpeople, AIDS, and other issues of the day. Of course, it would also be worthwhile to compare Fanfan's work with the short-lived Haitian comics journal of the 1940s, Zobopes, if it can be located. One wonders why Haitian Creole comics failed to take off? And what to make of the Haitian graphic novel as a literary form that can adopt and adapt masterpieces of the Haitian canon? And the impact of the comics of the late 19th century? The continued use of proverbs, as well as social satire or comedy can be found. Indeed, the use of some of the same proverbs and critique of rapacious elites, corrupt officials, and the 'color question' can be found in both Le Zinglin and Met Larouzé.