El montero

During a sojourn in Paris, Dominican intellectual Pedro Francisco Bonó wrote a short novel, El montero. This short novel, published in 1856, exalted the montero population of the countryside. In spite of its brevity, its detailed realism provides a window for the modern reader eager to envision the lives, habits, customs, landscape, cuisine, and entertainment of campesino populations of the Dominican Republic. As one of the earliest novels in the Dominican literary tradition, it's also an important text to consider in the larger development of the novel and possible trends within the larger Caribbean. For instance, comparisons with other precursors to the "peasant" novel in the Caribbean and Latin America may reveal parallels and continuities with other literatures. For this blog, one thinks of Ignace Nau's short story (or, novella) Isalina as the Haitian equivalent of an early "peasant novel" from the other side of Hispaniola. Nau even wrote a short story set in Los Llanos about monteros, which he defines as hunters of wild boar and cattle. While it is certainly likely and perhaps plausible that any similarities between the texts may derive from the mutual French literary influences on the two writers, it is tempting to consider possible influence from the 1830s Haitian Romantic conteurs on Bonó. 

El montero is a short novel centered on a family that subsists on conuco agriculture. They supplement their sustenance through hunting wild boars and cattle. The novel is particularly rich in detail on cultural and social habits of the Dominican countryside in the 19th century, including cuisine, bohío homes,  and romantic rivalry. Like the case of Isalina, a love triangle is the central cause of the drama, pitting two men against each other for a woman which leads to conflicts. Juan, a peon of Maria’s father who is in love with her, endeavors to kill Manuel because the latter will soon marry her. Long story short, Juan nearly succeeds in murdering Manuel. He later returns on the wedding day, killing Maria's father. The novel concludes with Juan’s death. Throughout the narrative, peasant customs such as the fandango, a site for many types of dances such as the guarapo or sarambo, appear in great detail. Bonó revels in the customs of the Dominican peasantry, showing their beauty and approach to life.

Unlike Manuel de Jesús Galván, whose later Enriquillo focused on the encounter of the Taino and the Spanish while elevating the latter's colonial legacy, Bonó’s novel is centered on the contemporary Dominican population, the predominantly mixed-race campesinos of the mountainous interior. And while he is largely silent on the "race" of the characters (except for a reference to the bronzed skin of Maria), it is clear these people are neither European nor Taino. They are, as in the case of the Haitian workers on the Digneron estate in Isalina, creoles. Moreover, an allusion is made to peasant resistance to the French in 1809, situating these monteros in the nationalist ethos as defenders of the patria. Bonó recycled this theme for En el cantón de Bermejo, where the montero is key to ousting the Spanish during the War of Restoration. Hence, the montero not only symbolizes the nation, but dies to protect it.

Yet Bonó avoids idealizing monteros. For example, some of their traditions represent a fundamental challenge to creating a modern nation-state. Alcohol, specifically consumption of aguardiente, is a vice that retards the progress of the countryside. Their taste for violence and squabbles also presents a problem. Case in point, the physical violence of Juan leads to the death of one person and attacks on Manuel and Maria. In short, their "natural" or "wild" habits have not yet been tamed by civilization.  The representatives of state authority likewise set negative examples for society, with the narrator referring to the titles of alcalde, comandante de armas, presidente, and congreso as a parodies in the Dominican Republic. Thus, the rural society of the free and idyllic montero is also one held back by their own traditions and the state, which mimics the political system of the civilized world but becomes a farce. Such attitudes can be found in Bonó's non-fiction essays as well, where he was critical of the role of the state in subverting the lifestyles of the peasantry while also critiquing peasant customs of communal labor like the convite or junta. The author's own interest in utopian socialism and later alternative ideas of progress put him at odds with positivism and dominant trends of Dominican liberalism, but this early novel might be more representative of how Dominican intellectuals wrestled with the dilemma of their largely rural population during the First Republic.

Due to the Dominican montero's similarities with the Haitian peasant, and a common heritage of marronage uniting the two populations, one cannot but think of the works of Ignace Nau and other Haitian authors of the 1830s. Indeed, Ignace Nau was undoubtedly a precursor of Haitian indigenist literature who incorporated Vodou, popular belief, the Creole language, and the history of the the Haitian Revolution into his works. These narratives are rooted in a form of cultural nationalism that sought to use Haiti's African, European, and indigenous pasts to develop a uniquely Haitian aesthetic. In Isalina, published in the 1830s, Nau did all of the aforementioned by bringing the reader to the world of rural Haiti, and their beliefs and customs. Their music, dances (calinda), belief in sorcery, proverbs, conflicts over women (the love triangle of Isalina, Jean-Julien, and Paul), and labor practices paint a vivid picture of the countryside on the Cul-de-Sac plain. While Isalina takes place on the Digneron sugar estate, the short tale hints at smallholder farmers who do not have to work at the mill (like Paul and Isalina, who "placer" at the conclusion of the story. 

Nau and his contemporaries also included the East (what is today the Dominican Republic) in their works, as the entire island was unified under Boyer. A nod to this can be found in the Spanish candles inside Galba's home, blessed by the Virgin of Higuey, where Haitian pilgrimage to the site was already underway by the 1830s. Nau's brother became a historian of the indigenous past of the island, finding commonality between the pre-colonial past and the independent, unified island of Haiti of his day. Nau's other works of fiction about the Haitian Revolution or rural life further cement this, including his Une anecdote set in the East, which takes the reader to Los Llanos, to the east of Santo Domingo, where uncouth monteros frighten the narrator, thinking them to be bandits. The Haitian narrator's description of the residents of the commune indicates a relatively underdeveloped state of agriculture but a thriving cattle industry where "wild" monteros exemplify some of the differences and commonalities between east and west rural populations. The rustic monteros are worthy of the narrator's son reading about their exploits, just as they were a worthy subject manner to Bonó. Like neighboring 19th century Romantic authors of Haiti, Dominican authors seemed to share the same anxieties and concerns about their respective national symbols.

Works Consulted

Bonó, Pedro F. El montero ; Epistolario. Santo Domingo, R.D.: Ediciones de la Fundación

Corripio, 2000.

Fischer, Sibylle. Modernity Disavowed: Haiti and the Cultures of Slavery in the Age of 

Revolution. Durham: Duke University Press, 2004.

Garcia, Francisco Antonio Avelino. “La interpretación de Bonó sobre la dominicanidad y la 

haitianidad.” CLIO 172 (2006): 197-222.

González, Raymundo. Bonó, un intelectual de los pobres, Santo Domingo, R.D.: Centro de Estudios Sociales P. Juan Montalvo, 1994.

Hoetink, H. The Dominican People, 1850-1900: Notes for a Historical Sociology. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1982.

Isalina, ou une scène créole

Ignace Nau's Isalina, ou Une scène creole is a frustrating story. Written in the 1830s, it's a literary precursor for Innocent's Mimola or the roman paysan of 20th century Haitian indigénisme. Like his brother, Emile, Nau's Romanticism sought local inspiration and a distinctly Haitian literary expression. Naturally, it is not altogether shocking that Nau incorporated Haitian Creole proverbs and references peasant belief, Vodou, and dance. However, the actual narrative structure of the nouvelle was less convincing. Jean-Julien, the rival of Paul for the affection of Isalina, supposedly used Marie Robin to bewitch Isalina. However, Marie Robin does not appear in the novel and it's not clearly established how the sorcery worked. For instance, we know Isalina suffered hallucinations, and her condition is the gossip of the community around Digneron.  But in the case of Mimola, her malady is described in greater detail by Innocent. Innocent's narrative, perhaps because of its longer length, almost made it more plausible.

Nau makes up for this by highlighting Galba, the caplata or papa-loi who helps Paul restore Isalina. In vivid detail, Galba's consultation is described, as well as the importance of a serpent who is like a guardian angel or deity to him (is this a reference to Damballah?). Later, after Isalina recovers, a dance is held on a Sunday, with clear references to Vodou "sects" (Congo, Poulard, l'Arada) and instruments. The tale ends with Isalina and Paul planning to form a plaçage union, which was common at the time among peasants. Furthermore, Paul plans to have Isalina assist him on his own plot of land, instead of working on the Digneron moulin. As a writer from the Haitian upper class, it is interesting to note the lack of any implied judgment for these customs, although at times the narrator adopts a negative outlook with regard to sorcery and ritual beliefs.

One cannot help but wonder what was the larger ideological motivation for this story. Surely, for a Romantic writer to develop a greater interest in the folkloric and popular beliefs, as well as extolling the beauty of the Cul-de-Sac plain, Isalina's significance in the Haitian and Caribbean literary canon can be understood. However, the Naus were also landowners with extensive interests in the Cul-de-Sac plain, sugar, and, one would think, restoring plantation agriculture. The first section of the story dwells intimately on the functioning of the roulaison, the ateliers of workers, their conductors, and the samba singer. There is, despite the mechanized nature of sugar production and the mills, an almost romanticized communal nature of the labor that perhaps met the interests of Nau and his class rather than the workers and peasants of Digneron. Moreover, despite its extensive use of Vodou and rural beliefs and practice, the narrator also refers to the rural police's attempts to suppress Vodou, since Galba has to avoid their surveillance. Undoubtedly, this is a reference to Boyer's anti-sorcery laws and attempts to criminalize Vodou, yet the author seems to possess a kind of ambivalence. Perhaps his Romanticism sought a middleground between the burgeoning Haitian peasantry and the planter class.