My Love, My Love: or The Peasant Girl

Rosa Guy's My Love, My Love: or The Peasant Girl is an interesting read compared to the Trinidadian-American's other Haiti-inspired novel. Taking the story of The Little Mermaid and its tragic ending, Guy brings the reader to the "Jewel of the Antilles" in a tale exploring Haiti's color, class, and ecological devastation. Guy purposely describes this story as a fable in the title, and that's quite clear based on her changing the characteristics of Vodou and class in Haitian society (and it's many allegedly dichotomous features: urban versus rural, black versus mulatto, humanity versus nature) to offer a disturbing but powerful statement on color, Haitian social and economic decline, and last, but certainly not least, its relevance to the rest of the black world. In some key respects, this novel also bears many commonalities with other sympathetic black writers of Haiti, actually bringing to mind the peasant characters of Roumain's masterpiece, the tortured life of Coralie in Paulette Poujol Oriol's novel, and General Sun of Alexis. As a fable with magical realism, betrayal, intense natural beauty, a touch of the exotic via 'Vaudun,' and an assertion of racial pride, Guy deserves accolades for this Haitian-inspired work. Nonetheless, by adapting a folktale to a complex society like Haiti, and focusing on a sixteen-year-old woman consumed by passion for a 'grand homme' mulatto, in a world where the two never can intersect for long, it pales in comparison to Guy's other Haiti-inspired novel, a tale that is actually far more engaged in African-American women's anti-imperialism and solidarity with Haitian plight and saw the commonalities in their experiences. Since US-based black women and their relationship with Haiti attracts less attention than US African-American males in relation to Haiti (is this part of the patriarchal tendencies of previous forms of black nationalism?), Guy stands out for me and her Comedians-inspired novel is the superior tale.

The Sun, the Sea, a Touch of the Wind

"And so, like Christ's, Haiti's glory became her cross to bear, exemplified by Charlemagne being nailed to his cross by the American marines who occupied the island from 1915 to 1934."

Trinidadian-American writer Rosa Guy has written a challenging but worthwhile novel about Haiti. The Sun, the Sea, a Touch of the Wind is centered around a Hotel Oloffson-like establishment, Old Hotel, in Port-au-Prince during the 1970s. Nixon's Watergate Scandal has just started, Jonnie Dash, a middle-aged African-American artist is back in Haiti in search of lost dreams, and themes at the intersection of class, race, gender, and imperialism suffuse the text. 

While the text differs significantly from Graham Greene's illustrious novel, which targets Duvalier with relentless criticism, both novels share a similar setting, a diverse group of foreigners and locals frequenting a fictionalized Hotel Oloffson, and a keen understanding of social systems, or roles. Guy's novel surpasses Greene's for its much stronger anti-imperialist message, of course also including women characters who are compelling. 

The protagonist, Jonnie, eventually ends up subverting the US counselor, standing up against her own fears and US imperialism on the island while also removing the layers of nationality, class, gender, and race in her interactions with the diverse cast of characters at the Old Hotel. Unfortunately, Guy's narrative can be hard to follow at times, perhaps because she often uses Jonnie Dash's memory lapses as critical moments to advance the plot. This confused me a few times, and the novel eventually loses steam, meaning that at 305 pages, one was almost ready to give up halfway through. 

For those determined readers, the pay off is worth it. Guy's protagonist lives and breathes through Port-au-Prince and its environs, offering numerous moments of shame, disgust, horror, and crushing poverty on one hand, with the natural beauty, glorious symbolism of the Haitian Revolution, and search for meaning in life on the other. While the constant use of French in dialogue came off as a little silly (I am not sure if Guy is fluent in French, but it seems like she only knows a few phrases), and Guy's inclusion of a 'voodoo' ceremony struck me as too fake or fabricated, the novel is one of the few written from a Black feminist perspective on Haiti. Next on my reading list will be Guy's retelling of the Little Mermaid story that uses Haitian Vodou and Caribbean flavors.