Daniel Rivera

Writing About Literature

October 28, 2012

Reflection of a Reader on "Children of the Sea"

     I understand now the accolades of the critics in praise of this young Haitian author, their words of reverence. The shining symbol pasted on the cover of her book. Edwidge Danticat is a master of narrative, of form, and of human emotion. She gives voice to human beings "whose names don't matter to anyone but themselves", people who otherwise we would never know about. Danticat has shined a light of humanity through this craft of short fiction, as a catalyst for something greater.

     Children of the Sea is a story narrative crafted with much skill, as comprised by letters between two lovers, separated amidst all the political chaos of Haiti. It paints a harsh bitter tint of reality, expressed through the almost desensitized voices of both characters, as they share their conflicts of a bleak situation. Both remain nameless. The story begins with he, who is aboard a ship at sea, and clearly writing as a passionate young lover to his better half. She, who is back home in Haiti, writes back about the worsening political situation, and wishes upon butterflies for good news, which seem unlikely. Only the reader is omniscent, and through both letters a story unravels, providing and revealing details about the characters and their background, as well as a forming picture of what the political tension arises from, growing and consuming the people. The reader soon learns that the male character was part of what they called "youth federation", which hosted a radio show and chose to speak out about what they wanted from their government and their future, which led to persecution. Unlike the less fortunate of his fellow youth, the male character fled at the right time and board the sailing ship, from which he writes the letters. The reader learns from the female character that she has much disdain for the military oppressing the people and abusing their rights, as she writes in the night scared to the sound of bullets. She faces a constant disapproval from her father at her relationship with a "troublemaker", and worries for her escapee lover. As letters are written respectively, the story is developed, and the challenges they face only get more and more harsh.

     The story may be disheartening at times for the reader, as it is definitely tragic, though it shines moments of hope. I find, regardless of the end that these moments are what is most important. Though the reality of these characters is brutal and bleak, they both find the strength to speak about beautiful things around them, however short, even if they don't realize it. I read of the night, when "sky and the sea are one...stars look so huge and so close" that one may just "pull them down like breadfruit", and I want to build a boat just to see that. Though he doesn't say it, I imagine the sight inspires hope to the character. How can it not? If the clarity of a desert night shines so bright, I can only imagine at open sea, reflected in the waters....

The way Danticat brings the story to an end as momentum builds from growing conflict, it is indeed tragic to know that the two lovers may never receive each others' letters in the end. And though they know it, they continue to write, holding fast to their love for one another, holding fast to hope that they are in company of one another through their writing. And yet from the beginning the reader feels it; the ship is, with its tarred crack and flooding deck, sailing on a dead end trip with worsening conditions, facing shocking, desensitizing experiences. This only brings further emphasis to the fact that they write with hope, despite all the challenges. This is what makes it, amidst its darkness, a luminous narrative of humanity.
     The awareness this story brings to political oppression is also very significant. It is through the female character's letters that the reader gains a detailed awareness of the military presence in Port au Prince, and all the ethical and moral boundaries they cross in their authority. Their cruelty is exposed; from killing and returning bodies of the youth federation to their mothers, breaking into homes and forcing families to engage in sex to accuse them of moral crimes and make arrests, instigating fights...our own EPPD seems graceful and just compared to this. All in all, these elements of the story fulfill Danticat's purpose as a Haitian author who seeks to bear witness to her people's suffering in the past.
     I highly encourage anyone to read both Children of The Sea and the Nineteen-Thirty Seven story, and in hopes of this I have made little mention of the ending, so it can have as much impact on you as it did to me. Though they are fiction, the suffering and political tension is very much a real thing. I cannot help but to put these faces on the people of the Bahamas, Jamaica and Cuba, that have lost their homes to the recent storm in mid-October. Nor can I shake the feeling that, as I write my own journal, a different ending will be written in my pages, or those in the people of New York City that are now warned to evacuate their restless, sought-after city of commerce and music and aspiration. I think of all the rising young people amongst me, all their shared aspirations and high hopes for the future, but I see a storm coming fast. In knowing, all we can do is muster our strength and never let go of our hope, regardless of whatever may come....for past the storm, awaits a glimmering new sunrise, a new dawn.