The Memoirs of Toussaint and Isaac Louverture: Representing the Black Masculine Subject in Narratives of Mourning and Loss by Arthur F. Saint-Aubin (review)
{"title":"The Memoirs of Toussaint and Isaac Louverture: Representing the Black Masculine Subject in Narratives of Mourning and Loss by Arthur F. Saint-Aubin (review)","authors":"John Saillant","doi":"10.1353/jhs.2018.0026","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"To say Marlene Daut’s book is textured is extreme understatement. The book is carefully organized to follow a historical trajectory that is intellectual, political, and literary. Yet the depth of its analyses and the fastidious contextualization make it readable in any number of ways and directions. Indeed, each part functions independently, as do some of the chapters, providing a full examination of the landscape of each historical moment. The bibliographic references and details throughout the book make it a remarkable source for studying both individual narratives and transnational intertextual relationships as Daut moves gracefully through the Atlantic world. The literary scholar interested in narrative analyses could find an intriguing path from the introduction to part 2. The historian could read the introduction, part 4, and the coda. A student could benefit from the introduction alone. The various entry points make the book a daunting endeavor but a compelling one as well. If I had one criticism it would be that the book could be multiple volumes, each focusing its insights more specifically by trope, theoretical impulse, or historical moment. Thereby, each chapter’s nuances could be more delicately parsed and expanded for full rhetorical and interventionist effect. The magnitude of the work’s contribution would be more elaborated through a less dense approach, making this treasured collection of centuries of storytelling more accessible. I fear that the breadth may deter those who need to read it most, and the brilliance of the project might be overshadowed by its girth. However, this very breadth is also an undisputable strength, making Tropics of Haiti a not-to-be-missed invitation to any scholar interested in the Haitian Revolution. Accept it, engage its insights, and take up its challenges to rethink the historical moment and the lasting impact that the rhetorical marriage of race and violence continues to have on intellectual, political, and cultural thought and practice in the Atlantic world.","PeriodicalId":137704,"journal":{"name":"Journal of Haitian Studies","volume":"44 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2018-10-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Journal of Haitian Studies","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1353/jhs.2018.0026","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
To say Marlene Daut’s book is textured is extreme understatement. The book is carefully organized to follow a historical trajectory that is intellectual, political, and literary. Yet the depth of its analyses and the fastidious contextualization make it readable in any number of ways and directions. Indeed, each part functions independently, as do some of the chapters, providing a full examination of the landscape of each historical moment. The bibliographic references and details throughout the book make it a remarkable source for studying both individual narratives and transnational intertextual relationships as Daut moves gracefully through the Atlantic world. The literary scholar interested in narrative analyses could find an intriguing path from the introduction to part 2. The historian could read the introduction, part 4, and the coda. A student could benefit from the introduction alone. The various entry points make the book a daunting endeavor but a compelling one as well. If I had one criticism it would be that the book could be multiple volumes, each focusing its insights more specifically by trope, theoretical impulse, or historical moment. Thereby, each chapter’s nuances could be more delicately parsed and expanded for full rhetorical and interventionist effect. The magnitude of the work’s contribution would be more elaborated through a less dense approach, making this treasured collection of centuries of storytelling more accessible. I fear that the breadth may deter those who need to read it most, and the brilliance of the project might be overshadowed by its girth. However, this very breadth is also an undisputable strength, making Tropics of Haiti a not-to-be-missed invitation to any scholar interested in the Haitian Revolution. Accept it, engage its insights, and take up its challenges to rethink the historical moment and the lasting impact that the rhetorical marriage of race and violence continues to have on intellectual, political, and cultural thought and practice in the Atlantic world.