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. 

Haitian Aid Fraud

An interesting discussion with Jake Johnston on some of the problems with foreign aid and relief efforts 5 years after the earthquake. For those interested in just discussion on that subject, watch this link. Johnston does an excellent job demolishing some of the myths about foreign aid and NGOs working in Haiti.

God Loves Haiti

"And picking apart the nation's colorful, sorrowful, and thrilling history is all Haitians do. It's a sport, the fucking national pastime. History is all we have to take pride in, since our greatest achievement occurred in 1804 and we haven't contributed fuck-all to humanity in the intervening two centuries save a few good books and paintings."

Just finished Dimitry Elias Léger's God Loves Haiti, an addictive novel worth reading that imagines post-earthquake Haiti through Dantean lens. It's also part of a flourishing literary output by Haitian-American writers, such as Roxane Gay's acclaimed An Untamed State. While the Kindle version seems to have some errors, this short novel can be read in a day, which may be one of its weaknesses. It also struck me as strange that Alain did not notify his parents after surviving the earthquake, and how they could not know he was alive despite him appearing on television for his leadership role in the Place Pigeon refugee camp (appearing with 'Steve,' called Hollywood by Alain, who is based on Sean Penn). Furthermore, the former president based on Aristide lacked any real relevance to this tale, so I am not sure why his presence was included in the novel.

However, the novel's characters are likable and the perhaps not so subtle commentary on Preval, Aristide the international community, and the response to the horrendous goudou-goudou are necessary to counter the horrific views of many abroad, such as the infamous Pat Robertson. Indeed, Monsignor Dorélien believes that Haitians are among God's chosen people, that the earthquake that destroyed their world was a test like those of Biblical times. Léger also has a way of praising Haiti and the people without romanticizing its troubled history. For instance, he writes about how beautiful Port-au-Prince is as Alain's car is flying with him in tow above the city during the earthquake: 

From the sky, strangely, Port-au-Prince looked uncommonly beautiful. He hadn't visited Paris yet, but surely Paris couldn't be as beautiful as his hometown, this jewel of the Caribbean, this diamond in the rough, when viewed from the driver's seat of a car launched two hundred meters above sea level. Awesome. Natasha, he thought, I have got to show her this.

Indeed, one of the more memorable scenes in the novel is the President's vision of himself and all preceding Haitian heads of state at the gates of Heaven, making their case to Saint Peter. Dessalines and Duvalier have some interesting exchanges with Saint Peter in that scene. Likewise, the author does an excellent job capturing the city of Port-au-Prince and the scenes during and after the earthquake. It was depressing but light reading that breathed life into some of Port-au-Prince's landmarks (the National Cathedral assumes great importance for Natasha, and the novel's final scene) and Haitian history. In truth, one should see Port-au-Prince as more than the setting for this love triangle amid such suffering, but as a character whose shapes, contours, and architecture affect the lives of the President, Alain, and Natasha. Life in the tent camps, a love story, Haiti's relationship with the Dominican Republic, death, imperialism, and the significance of history in Haiti as a 'national pastime' all emerge as important themes that shape the novel. 

Impressively, Legér manages to create humor in the most tragic and unexpected places, such as the President's trip to the UN for a meeting with the real powers (the US, France, and other powers on the UN Security Council) who orchestrate the relief effort and pull the strings on the Haitian political system. In the end, people of all walks of life are thrown together as a result of the last thing Haitians expected to turn on them, the earth, and the results are seen in the collective mourning, grave digging teams, tent organizations and their leaders, and ultimate triumph of love and solidarity in the face of insurmountable obstacles, which provides the opportunities for redemption for the President, Alain, and Natasha.