Tous droits réservés. Republié avec l'autorisation du·de la détenteur·rice du droit d'auteur et de l'éditeur·rice, Le Nouvelliste.
Marie Chauvet, porte-drapeau des Haïtiennes femmes de lettres
dans
Tous droits réservés. Republié avec l'autorisation du·de la détenteur·rice du droit d'auteur et de l'éditeur·rice, Le Nouvelliste.
À travers l'image qu'entrevoit une petite fille et qui ne la quittera plus, les espoirs et les désillusions d'un militant, les amours d'une jeune fille dans une bourgade engluée dans la moiteur tropicale, la santé rayonnante et triomphante de Tante Résia, les prémonitions funestes de Martine Durand, les mystères et la poésie de la grande ville, c'est toute la mémoire et le présent d'une île que nous content ces six nouvelles.
Enfin une monographie féministe de la littérature romanesque des écrivaines haïtiennes ! L'auteure y porte un éclairage révélateur sur les termes de la quête identitaire des femmes à travers leur corps.
This article compares two protagonists from two different books of fiction: Marie Chauvet’s Colère and Émile Ollivier’s Mère-Solitude. The goal of this comparison is to fully understand the Vodou references that each character embodies, specifically as happy young women who begin to question the political context of their countries. The novels are set during the Duvalier regime and detail the unfortunate outcomes of each of the characters while subtly pointing out the atrocities of women’s conditions during that period of history. (Summary by Mouka)
This article offers a detailed literary analysis of the novel Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat. Christophe demonstrates how Danticat was able to blend the real and the imaginary in order to further explore how truth and lies exist within artistic fictional works and how they create both an imaginary and grounded portrayal of reality. (Summary by Mouka)
This publication analyses what is identified by H’éros-chimères (2001) and Miraculeuse (2003) by Frankétienne about what is miraculous about the Haitian revolution, how it was once perceived and how it is presently perceived. Frankétienne explains how the “miracle” of the revolution has been aborted and questions the possibility of the “aborted” fetus (post-slavery and revolutionary Haiti) developing fully.
In this essay, Larrier analyses literary several texts, the main one being Edwidge Danticat’s The Farming of Bones, so as to explore themes of testimony among women in literature. The author analyses how in Caribbean cultures, women are positioned to see and hear, but they are not always publicly acknowledged as oral historians and storytellers. Many of the female characters mentioned experience trauma and are positioned as witnesses who must transmit information to others but their testimony is almost never given in a courtroom, which reflects the distrust in the current systems.
The author argues that the sustained representation of rape purposefully draws our attention to gendered violence that has often been obscured in favour of broader forms of violence (in the forms of slavery, dictatorships, coups, occupations, etc.). Moreover, this paper deals with a writer whose approach to sexual violence also unveils its occurrence outside of contexts that are overtly political.
This interview between Renée H. Shea and Edwidge Danticat focuses on Danticat’s latest work: her stories in The New Yorker Magazine, her upcoming children’s novel Behind The Mountains and a travel memoir about Jacmel called After The Dance. (Summary by Mouka)
Cet entretien entre Renée H. Shea et Edwidge Danticat porte sur les derniers travaux de Danticat, comme ses histoires dans le New Yorker Magazine, son prochain roman pour enfants Behind The Mountains et un mémoire de voyage sur Jacmel intitulé After The Dance. (Résumé par Mouka)
This essay analyses three texts written by women in three different Caribbean Creole: Deyita’s Esperans Dezire (1988) written in Haitian Creole, Sistren’s Lionheart Gal (1986) written in Jamaican Creole, and Mamita Fox’s Identifikashon (1997) written in Curaçaoan Papiamentu. Strongman places these texts within the diachronic tradition of Creole writing, establishing a synchronic dialogue among them and tracing the emergence of a subjectivity, which is dually linguistic and gendered.