Les deux Indiens

Ramón Emeterio Betances's Les deux Indiens is probably one of the most fascinating examples of Indianist literature of the 19th century Caribbean. Written in French and as a response to Alejandro Tapia y Rivera's La palma del cacique, the ardent nationalist Betances subverts the genre. Instead of telling a tale of romance between an indigenous woman and a Spanish male, Betances has Otuké fall in love with Carmen, a beautiful Andalusian. However, due to the brutal and racist Spanish conquest, their romance is doomed. However, unlike, say, Iracema or other examples of Indianist Latin American literature, Carmen bears Otuké's son. This mestizo child, raised by Toba, the warrior brother of Otuké, must be an allegory for the formation of the Puerto Rican people and their opposition to colonial rule. The novel is followed by a short poem that also hints at the fraternal bonds created by the  African and the Indian under Spanish colonialism, another radical instance of anti-colonial sentiment expressed by Betances. 

Perhaps because he was writing in French and had, already by the 1850s, combined anti-slavery, anti-racism and liberal nationalism as the path forward, Betances was able to create the most progressive Indianist literature in the Spanish Caribbean. The indigenous legacy was alive and well, represented in the novella's conclusion by Indians in the forest resisting the Spanish. Toba, son of murdered cacique Ayma of Guanahibo, carries on the fight with Carmen and Otuké's son. Their population may have suffered severe declines and the loss of the cemi and bones of Ayma clearly required a shift in Indian social organization, but Toba and the indigenous resistance must have symbolized an ongoing effort by the Puerto Rican people to liberate the island. Sure, Betances engaged in the typical Romantic-era praise of the island's flora and fauna. Indigenous customs of worship like the cemi appear in the text. But the Indian legacy is a living one, and surely one that a young Betances could have seen in the Puerto Rican population of his day. Undoubtedly, as someone allegedly of mixed-race origins and cognizant of the way historians and travelers had noted the indigenous ancestry of the Puerto Rican population, he would see continuity in the struggle of the indigenous resistance to the conquest and 19th century struggles for independence.

The poem accompanying the novella makes this radical message even more explicit, incorporating the plight of the African into the narrative. This move also brings Betances closer to Haitian writers such as Emile Nau. One wonders if Betances had read Nau or at least heard of his history of the indigenous population of Hispaniola. If so, and in light of Betances's own pro-Haitian views, perhaps his depiction of the indigenous resistance to Spanish enslavement was partly motivated by Nau's history of Hispaniola. There, like in Puerto Rico, the European colonial conquest and subjugation of Indians and Africans was eventually avenged by the birth of Haiti as an independent state. Puerto Rico, suffering under the yoke of colonialism, must follow a similar path which Betances highlights through Toba and Otuké. Unfortunately, Betances's progressive Indianist literature was not followed or developed by subsequent writers.

The Ballad of Beta-2

Samuel Delany's The Ballad of Beta-2 is another example of his excellent early novels and novellas. The central character, Joneny, a student of galactic anthropology, is assigned the task of researching a ballad among the "degenerate" Star Folk, descendants of human colonists sent into interstellar space before the invention of the hyperdrive. This particular ballad, however, is an interesting science-fiction retelling of Judaeo-Christian themes and beliefs. Sure, the interstellar star-ship voyagers partly inspired by Biblical stories is not new in science fiction, but Delany's short novel manages to convey a suspenseful story of god-like beings and human redemption. Indeed, the travails of 12 generations of these Star Folk were not for naught, as the child of Captain Leela and the "Destroyer" will ease future communication between humans and other peoples of the universe. One can also appreciate the interesting anthropological aspects of the text lie in its depiction of multiple-generations of humans adapted to life on star-ships, and the degree to which they desire to impose social norms can be disastrous. Considering Delany's own "outsider" status as an African American and gay man, the forces promoting social conformity and the status quo through the upholding of blind rituals are clearly a reminder of life in 1960s America. Or today, in 2020, for that matter. Society needs its deviants, just as the deviants require society.

Sweet Diamond Dust and Other Stories

Out of a desire to read more of Rosario Ferré's fiction, I decided to tackle her novella and related short stories contained in Sweet Diamond Dust and Other Stories. They are fascinating tales in that they clearly established the template for The House on the Lagoon and Eccentric Neighborhoods. Like those future novels, Sweet Diamond Dust is a multigenerational family drama in which a wealthy, landowning Puerto Rican family becomes a metaphor for the nation. Like the Vernets or the Mendizabals, the De La Valle family is riddled with all of the usual problems of gender, race, and class in a shifting Puerto Rican society (from the decline of the local sugar barons to industrialization and post-WWII migrations and political transformations). Unfortunately, some of her short stories are less compelling than the extended prose works, but, when combined, tell the story of a fictionalized Ponce (Santa Cruz) quite satisfactorily. 

Her satirical approach to Puerto Rican social relations in the "American Century" is rather priceless as it directly addresses the question of the rise and fall of the Puerto Rican gentry and bourgeoisie, and to what extent an independent Puerto Rico is viable. Despite our possible objections to the author's views on independence, which are perhaps best seen in the final short story, which imagines a Puerto Rico on the cusp of independence after the mainland government wishes to cease economic support, Ferré focuses on the interstitial spaces and shadows that connect across social classes. Like hidden black ancestors in the wealthy white family or the mixed-race nouveau riche, Ferré invariably focuses on these types of connections and their ways of uniting and dividing the "Puerto Rican family." 

While I did not enjoy the other stories as much as the novella within this collection, they are also quite experimental and polyphonic, taking the reader on a journey into the psyche of various characters from all social classes. There is a certain delight in reading of the rather extreme courses of action taken by some of these characters, particularly in their destructive actions which threaten the foundations of Puerto Rican society. Indeed, what more could accomplish this when Gloria and Titina burn the De La Valle home in the novella or the disastrous conclusion to the marriage of Don Augusto Arzuaga and Adriana? Or the solidarity of wealthy Mercedita with her friend, Carlotta? The instability and uncertainty of the narratives mirrors the ambiguous status of Puerto Rico.

The Story of Apollonius King of Tyre

Although the earliest manuscripts are in Latin, The Story of Apollonius King of Tyre follows many of the conventions of the Ancient Greek romance. Deux ex machina, piracy, threats to the chastity of heroines, adventures around the Mediterranean, intervention of the gods, separation and reunion of lovers, and a happy ending structure the narrative of this short text, or "novella."  Thus, this short tale is closer to the Greek romances than the famous story of Apuleius or Petronius's Satyricon. Interestingly, the initial princess Apollonius of Tyre wished to wed is erased from the narrative after our hero solves the riddle of her incestuous/rapist father, so he could wed an "unspoiled" virgin princess from Pentapolis, Cyrene. 

Perhaps this had to be done so the righteous king of Tyre could wed a virgin, although one wishes there had been something done on behalf of Antiochus's daughter. There are also seemingly Christian invocations of God and Biblically-inspired language, although it coexists uneasily with the presence of Neptune, Diana, Priapus, and other pagan gods. It could very well be the Christian-sounding aspects of the tale were inserted with the Latin translations after the completion of the Vulgate. Gerald Sandy's translation also does a great job capturing the spirit of the times in which these characters lived, their values, and rendering the prose more readable. Of course, a translator can only do so much with a text that was plagued with awkwardness in its original language and the conventions and cliches of its in Antiquity. 

Yet, it feels so incomplete. What was Apollonius doing in Egypt for 14 years? If he abandoned his royal status to become a merchant, are we to assume he was engaged in trade in Egypt and the Mediterranean all this time? And does his return to kingship after the inevitable reunion with his wife and daughter represent the triumph of nobility and kingship over inferior groups such as merchants? As a ruler, he does prove himself as a benefactor who donates to the public treasury of Tarsus and urban restoration. If the Greek primary material was longer than this, perhaps we are missing some of the additional episodes in the text, which would have added another layer of adventures or wonder to the tale. 

A Flag on the Island

"They don't pay primary school teachers a lot in Trinidad, but they allow them to beat their pupils as much as they want."

Naipaul's A Flag on the Island, a collection of short stories and a novella, is one of those transitional works of his 1960s output. Most of the book consists of short stories, usually set in Trinidad, with rich satire, dialect, and a keen sense of humor that permeates his early novels. There also exists intertextuality with the universe of The Mystic Masseur and Miguel Street, indicating that some of these stories were first written in the 1950s and one or two were initially written for the linked stories from Miguel Street. A few short stories take place in London, and deal with class or universal matters of the human condition, with the narrator presumably being Naipaul himself, if not someone just like him.

The last story in the text, "A Flag on the Island," is of a very different vein. Stylistically and thematically, the novella is more aligned with The Mimic Men and subsequent Naipaul novels. There are problems of mimicry and the colonial West Indian, postcolonial themes, an obsession with the smallness of the island, of Trinidad's apparent nonexistence, as well as sexual frustration. The main character of the novella, Frankie, is an American who served at the US base in Trinidad during the War. Taking advantage of his position, he profited from selling excess supplies and materials at the base, and is driven by this desire to buy or purchase fellowship from the poor 'natives.' In the end, all of his help is largely misguided.

The short novel is actually quite rich in satire, too. The fake or inauthentic Trinidad promoted by the tourism industry is a consistent theme, tying in quite well with other postcolonial themes of mimicry. One character in particular, Mr. Blackwhite (yes, that's his name), is a colonial writer who, at first, writes in the style of Jane Austen, and then writes interracial romances and stories with local color, supported or funded by the foundations and corporations. Here, I suspect, Naipaul is delineating the contradictions of West Indian identity and literature, as Mr. Blackwhite struggles to define himself and his writing. The foundation whites who fund Blackwhite want more of the same, but Blackwhite rebels against this with the idea of writing a narrative about ordinary, perfectly human blacks falling in love. Well, since that goes against what the white-controlled publishing world wants, Blackwhite loses their favor. 

Naipaul's comic genius really shines through these stories, providing excellent entertainment regardless of one's feelings on his dark novella. By far,"The Baker's Story" is the most amusing. Narrated in local vernacular by a Grenadian raised in Trinidad, it tells the story of how the poor black Grenadian, through hard work and taking advantage of the racial/class schema of occupations, becomes one of the wealthy businessmen with several bakery establishments, all operated through Chinese employers. The reason? Well, black Trinidadians won't buy food from blacks, and associate bakeries and groceries with the Chinese or whites. So, using a mixed-race Chinese boy, 'Yung Man' begins to prosper, marries a Chinese woman, and escapes poverty, in spite of his low education. While written in a hilarious manner, this short story speaks to the many racial divisions and stereotypes Trinidadians of all races and colors confine themselves in. If one only has the chance to read a single story from A Flag on the Island, this one is it.

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."