Spiks

For some strange reason, we never finished Pedro Juan Soto's Spiks during a past obsession with Puerto Rico and the Diaspora a few years ago. This time around, we devoured the slim collection of short stories and vignettes of Puerto Rican life in New York City. As the title suggests, these stories focus on ghetto life and the crushing poverty, dilapidated housing, and lack of opportunities for Puerto Rican migrants established in Harlem. Stories deal with themes of becoming an adult, frustrated romance, migration, the breakup of families, lack of work, English classrooms in school and failed dreams. Of all these tales, the most effective story is probably "Scribbles." The brief work perfectly encapsulates what happens when ambition and marital love are brutally confronted by the realities of life in New York. The father of the family will never become an artist and his one attempt to express his feelings for his wife through his talent are abruptly terminated by Graciela. Sadly the canvas of his planned artwork becomes a "wide and clear gravestone of his dreams." This is an apt description of the New York experience for more than a few of those earlier generations of migrants from Puerto Rico.

Alibée Féry's Short Stories

Although he seems to be a key writer of fiction in Haiti between Ignace Nau in the 1830s and the later short stories and novels produced from 1890-1915, it is difficult to find much information about Alibée Féry's literary writings. As a contemporary of Nau and the 1830s romanticists, Féry's short stories, published in Essais littéraires in 1876, seem to resemble the short stories of Nau and others published in journals like L'Union. Indeed, their brevity makes one think some of them were originally published in newspapers, presumably aimed at a similar audience as the works of of Nau and other anonymous contributors to Haitian journals. Intriguingly, Féry's collected works includes a glossary of Creole terms, suggesting he might have been addressing a non-Haitian audience to some undetermined extent.

Nonetheless, Féry avoids the lodyans style and deserves the distinction of being the first Haitian writer to compose a Bouqui et Malice tale, presumably based on oral tradition. Indeed, Féry's nouvelles often have a fairy-tale structure and bareness with minimal detail, supernatural events and creatures, and miraculous events. Indeed, with the exception of the Bouqui and Malice trickster tale, which is almost more focused on the fathers of the two figures, each story involves magical events, spirits, anthropomorphized animals, curses, or monsters. In that respect, Féry seems more interested in the "superstition" and folklore of the Haitian countryside than historic tales of Ignace Nau. 

Although it is probably misguided, it is interesting to think about Féry's tales as a precursor of sorts to early works of Black speculative fiction. Indeed, the number of ouangas, zombies, simbi spirits, monsters, and magical characters populating these short stories, often fragments, really, contain a wholly speculative character where the impossible and the implausible are everyday occurrences. For instance, a "ouangataire" curses a woman who chooses another man instead of him. His curse is passed on to her child, who turns out to be a serpent that eventually devours the ouangataire. Hidden messages in dreams assist our characters, as well as a friendly simbi spirit who transforms Monrose into an eel and takes him to his wondrous underwater palace in the river. Or, in the case of the beast without equal, angels bring an enchanted sword to an unnamed hero who must slay a monster. 

While one must admit the use of magic and elements of fantasy in Nau's Isalina, the tales of Féry are completely immersed in that world of zombies, charms, angels, monsters, and aid from the supernatural. Most have a happy ending as many fairy tales do, while the trickster tale ends with Petit Malice and his father playing a joke on the buffoonish Guiannacou and Bouqui. Each tale also imparts something of the values and beliefs of the Haitian people, from a positive perspective. One wonders how Féry actually felt about Vodou and "superstition" in his political life (and what of the connection between Romanticism and the irrational), but in the fairy-tales and snippets of of the fantastic here, a moral can always be found. One wonders how the nouvelles of Brun, Marcelin, Hibbert, and others in the late 19th century and early 20th century continue or deviate from this pattern. Finally, one wonders to what extent the Bouqui and Petit Malice tale of Féry has shaped the canon of Bouqui and Malice tales in the oral and written tradition.

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.

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.

Digging Up the Mountains: Stories By Neil Bissoondath

"He saw the earth, as from space, streams of people in continuous motion, circling the sphere in search of the next stop which, they always knew, would prove temporary in the end."

Neil Bissoondath's short story collection, Digging Up the Mountains, features the praise of his uncle, V.S. Naipaul, and Bissoondath, like Shiva Naipaul, is trapped in that wider shadow. Unlike them, Bissoondath, who choses Canada over Britain, has some commonalities with Ladoo and Selvon, but combined with a similar worldview of his uncles on colonialism and independence. Many of the short stories featured in this collection are quite short and appear to be character sketches or material with light humor, but none come close to the satirical masterpieces of his uncle's short fiction. And, excluding the detailed portrait of a confined Japanese woman, the best tales here feature Trinidad and Trinidadians in Toronto, perhaps because it's the world the young Bissoondath knew so well at the time. A touch of authenticity in the dialogue and vernacular of some of the Trinidadian characters goes so well, and he almost reaches the lofty heights of Vidia and Shiva in terms of Trinidadian social satire and post-colonial traumas. I will have to read his future Caribbean-inspired novels. 

Stories Recommended

1. "Dancing": Narrated by a lower-class black Trinidadian women, one gets a feel for the Trinidadian vernacular that I have come to love in Selvon and early Naipaul. Rich and perhaps politically incorrect take on West Indian migrants in Toronto, but makes for hilarious reading. One may find a kernel of truth in this tale, but, unfortunately, being who he is, Bissoondath seems to mock the very idea of racism or prejudice against Caribbean people in Canada. 

2. "Digging Up the Mountains": Trinidadian setting, political commentary, somewhat typical yet intriguing dark tale of the 'Global South.'

3. "The Revolutionary": Hilarious portrait of  West Indian radical. I am quite sure I strongly disagree with Bissoondath on politics and multiculturalism, but sometimes he nails it. This piece is one example. Reminiscent of Naipaul's "Guerrillas" and some of Shiva Naipaul's commentary on the colonial left.

4. "The Cage": Narrated by a Japanese woman bound by freedom and tradition. Surprisingly comes off as a fully fleshed character, and somewhat reminiscent of V.S. Naipaul's "One Out of Many," but with more plausible female characters. 

5. "Insecurity": Amusing tale on the worried self-made rich Indo-Trinidadian who finds out that financial security and flight to the north isn't quite what you think.

Beyond the Dragon's Mouth: Stories and Pieces

"I understood. Sufficient unto any man the handicap of being straightforwardly Indian or straightforwardly West Indian. But to contrive somehow how to combine the two was a challenge to reason. An Indian from the West Indies! I was guilty of a compound sin."

Shiva Naipaul's Beyond the Dragon's Mouth: Stories and Pieces consists of short stories and travel writings, taking the reader from Naipaul's native Trinidad to Puerto Rico, Grenada, Suriname, Seychelles, England, Portugal, India, Iran, Morocco, and Jamaica. While I found his travel writing to be, shall we say, less racist or offensive than VS Naipaul, both share a similar worldview ("My day trip between Islam and Christianity, Africa and Europe, had gone sour on me"). Shiva's perceptive observations on the "Bush Negroes" of Suriname was interesting (they're not Africa in South America, but have become something new altogether), as was his critical but, in my view, accurate statements on the problems of Rastafarianism as a faith and ideology. His fiction, however, is where he shines. The characteristically Naipaul sense of humor, mixed with some condescension, characterizes his short stories in this collection. By far, Naipaul's talent with comedy is most apparent throughout all of the stories, especially "Mr Sookhoo and the Carol Singers" and "The Beauty Contest," two stories set in Trinidad featuring lovable yet amusing characters. 

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.

Luis Pie

Enjoy "Luis Pie," a cuento that won Dominican intellectual and future president, Juan Bosch, a prestigious literary award in 1943. The short story is fascinating for its sympathetic portrait of Haitian braceros, focusing on Luis Pie (Louis Pierre), who is blamed for a fire that breaks out in the canefield and killed. The short story uses some Creole, offers a powerful critique of the abuses Haitians faced in the sugarcane fields, and is noteworthy for not following the typical anti-Haitianism of Dominican intellectuals associated with Trujillo. 

Bosch would have, to put it frankly, a troubled relationship with Haiti during his bumpy presidential term. Yet this short story clearly provides a nice break from typical narratives of Haiti and the DR always being in a state of conflict, akin to a cockfight. 

Aunt Résia and the Spirits and Other Stories

"Like all the males in the area, Erminus is not too fond of Derisca. Like them, he had understood that Derisca did not need a man for all the normal reasons that other woman do. For him to tell her boring stories, for him to beat her sometimes or for him to lie on her when he feels like it and forcibly give her children."

The short stories collected in Aunt Résia and the Spirits and Other Stories, translated from the French by Betty Wilson, are thematically reminiscent of the work of Dalembert and Lyonel Trouillot. Like these two writers, Lahens captures the misery and downright degradation of life in Haiti, most effectively in Port-au-Prince settings. What distinguishes her, in my opinion, is her much stronger female characters, an ability to switch between narrators seamlessly, (one short story features second person narration) although Trouillot's Children of Heroes successfully does the same, and her metaphorical, loosely structured minimalist stories. The author's gift of prose, as translated by Wilson, illustrates this quite well, in addition to capturing the social, economic, political, gendered, and racial conflict of Haiti (the Diaspora, too, in one short story). I also appreciate Lahens comparison of the Jim Crow US South to political terror in Duvalierist Haiti, thereby connecting the struggles of Haitians at home with people of color abroad. Her stories encompasss Haiti and its complex relationship with the US.

The Company of Heaven: Stories from Haiti

Marilène Phipps-Kettlewell's collection of short stories features numerous short stories drawing on the author's own experiences coming from the upper class, with commentary on social relations, religion, poverty, animal rights, sexuality, and identity. Phipps-Kettlewell's short stories illustrate numerous examples of enduring problems in Haitian society while also embracing the land, people, and animals who populate the island. Vodou figures prominently in numerous stories, particularly in a beautiful way for "Marie-Ange's Ginen," reminiscent of Danticat's similarly astounding story on Haitian boatpeople. Strong women also populate the novel, particularly in the manbo, Grande Jesula. Invoking the Romanticist and indigenist phases of Haitian literature, the flora and fauna of Haiti are poetically described and included as characters in the story.

Although some stories in the collection were not exactly my cup of tea, "Marie Ange's Ginen," "Dogs," "Land," "River Valley Rooms," and "At the Gate" are more than worthwhile reads. Phipps-Kettlewell is best when examining memory, family, and the tenants in the apartments owned by the narrator's father, in "River Valley Rooms." The world it recalls is one lost in several ways, as the death of the narrator's father and declining state of her mother perhaps symbolize a lost Haiti.

Ayiti

Just finished Roxane Gay's short collection, Ayiti. Some of the stories were no more than 1-3 pages, so it was a quick read. She writes eloquently about Haiti from a diaspora, in such a knowing and loving way. She clearly loves her heritage. Of course, she knows about everything that plagues Haiti, but when it comes to Haitian dignity, pride, and respect, her characters demand it. Again, like in Bad Feminist, there is humour in the tale as well, particularly in the short chapter about her father's thick Haitian accent, or the young Haitian immigrant, Gerard, who faces accusations of H.B.O. in his American school. The best 'treat' of the story collection, however, is her early form of An Untamed State lacking the depth and character background of the novel, as well as without the sordid details of Miri's rape and torture while kidnapped.