Throughout the novel The Dew Breaker, the reader is ushered through a loosely connected series of accounts by various Haitian men and women. Each of the central characters have glaring troubles associated with their home country, whether it be paranoia of past torturers, burns and blindness, or even that of being pigeonholed into an unsavory occupation. All of the Haitian accounts are similar in this regard, except for the actress Gabrielle Fonteneau. She is one who has achieved blinding success despite the woeful political state Haiti is in and the traumatic effects which have touched every Haitian except her.
Her yard is lavishly decorated, with exotic landscaping. The house itself is made not only of mere brick, but coral--and it takes up an entire cul-de-sac. But what first made makes the reader question the authenticity of Gabrielle is the interior: the huge living room is "covered with Haitian paintings with subjects ranging from market scenes and first communions to weddings and wakes" (28). The first thing a visitor sees of the interior is a variety of Haitian art--art which is exclusively Haitian, but does not have a theme beyond that singular ethnic trait. The overuse of Haitian painting in the first room of the Fonteneau house implies a surface-oriented relationship with the culture. This is furthered by Gabrielle's conversation near the end of the chapter; she is only concerned with Ka as part of her efforts to secure more art, and upon finding that the piece was not available, she is curt and direct: "We're done, then...I have to make a call. Enjoy the rest of your day (29)."
But Gabrielle's disconnect with Haitian culture isn't only shown in design tastes. Her parents noted a place "in the mountains of Jacmel" as a yearly getaway from the United States (29). They describe it in almost heavenly tones--"the rain is sweeter, the dust lighter, our beaches prettier" --as if Haiti was the only place to have such qualities (30). But statements such as the Fonteneau's imply a similar surface relationship with their culture; what of the political troubles which are so pressing they manifest themselves in the entire cast? Simply put, the Fonteneau's see Jacmel, not Haiti. The Dew Breaker mentions their estate is in the mountains, which are portrayed in the tale of Dany as a beautiful escape from the corrupt city life of Port-au-Prince. Even in Dany's account the place is tinged with sadness, however, as his parents were killed and his aunt burnt by the dew breaker. There is no escape, even in the relative seclusion of a poor mountain farming town. But in Jacmel, the Fonteneau's have found a quaint luxury which few in Haiti can find: the tourist timeshare. Jacmel is a city defined by its large tourist industry, and it is here--in the mountains and beaches of rich visiting families--that a person could avoid the trauma associated with national identity. Simply put, while the Fonteneau's have come from Haiti, they are not Haitian. Gabrielle, while labeled a successful Haitian actress, is merely filling a cultural role and has no real ties with her place of origin. She is utterly American, and part of a rich upper class which would never have a run-in with a dew breaker (unlike the rest of the characters) and hence would never know there was more beyond that of her carved-out piece of Haiti famous for its ethnic handicrafts...which could fill her living room.
The grand irony of the Fonteneau's idealism and disconnect is embodied fully in the final passage of their recollection of Haiti:
"'There's nothing like sinking your hand in sand from the beach in you own country,' Mrs. Fonteneau is saying...
I imagine my father's nightmares. Maybe he dreams of dipping his hands in the sand on a beach in his own country and finding that what he comes up with is a fistful of blood (30)."
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment