International Journal of Francophone Studies: Volume: 10 - Issue: 3

International Journal of
Volume Ten Number Three

ISSN 1368-2679
International Journal of Francophone Studies | Volume Ten Number Three

Francophone Studies
Volume 10 Number 3 – 2007 10.3
Editorial introduction
307–311 Extending the boundaries of francophone postcolonial studies
Alec G. Hargreaves and Jean-Marc Moura
Articles International Journal of

313–328 Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe
329–344
Alison Rice
Before Malcolm X, Dessalines: a ‘French’ tradition of black Atlantic radicalism
Deborah Jenson Francophone
Studies
345–358 Don du français et parole (post) coloniale
Laurent Dubreuil
359–376 Between nostalgia and desire: l’Ecole d’Alger’s transnational identifications
and the case for a Mediterranean relation
Edwige Tamalet Talbayev
377–391 A descent into crime: explaining Mongo Beti’s last two novels
Pim Higginson
393–405 Listening to Caribbean history: music and rhythm in Daniel Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil
Martin Munro
407–424 Féminisme et postcolonialisme: Beauvoir, Fanon et la guerre d’Algérie
Annabelle Golay
Forum
425–432 When French-Canadian literature freed itself from the tutelage of Paris
David Parris
433–438 Post ou péricolonialisme: l’ étrange modèle québécois (notes)
Lise Gauvin
intellect Journals | Media & Culture

439–476 Book Reviews
477 Index
ISSN 1368-2679
10
intellect
9 771368 267008 www.intellectbooks.com
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International Journal of Founder and Editor

Kamal Salhi
Francophone Studies School of Modern Languages & Cultures
University of Leeds
Leeds
Volume 10 Number 3 LS2 9JT, UK
Tel: (44) (0)113 343 3501
Fax: (44) (0)113 343 3477
A member of the Council of Editors of Learned Journals e-mail: fllks@leeds.ac.uk
The International Journal of Francophone Studies (IJFS) is an acade- Deputy Editor

mic, refereed publication for scholars, teachers and students (North America Editorial)
whose focus is on French-speaking areas of the world. The Raija Koski
Journal covers language, literature, society, politics, history, film, Department of Modern Languages
King’s College
arts, theatre, cultural and media studies with emphasis on University of W. Ontario
contemporary aspects of Francophone post-colonial studies. IJFS 266 Epworth Avenue
offers a wide range of research expertise in these disciplines from London,
Ontario N6A 2M3, Canada
the colonial period to the present day. The Journal is bilingual, Tel: (1) 519 433 3491 (ext. 4378)
having a majority of its articles published in English and a Fax: (1) 519 433 0353
selection in French with abstracts in English. Toll Free: 1 800 265 4406
e-mail: rkoski@julian.uwo.ca
Editorial Board
Suzanne Crosta – McMaster University, Canada Book Reviews Editor
Dawn Marley
Azzedine Haddour – University College London, UK Department of Linguistic, Cultural and
Margaret Majumdar – University of Portsmouth, UK International Studies
Valérie Orlando – University of Maryland, USA University of Surrey
Guildford
International Advisory Board GU2 7XH
Bernard Aresu – Rice University, USA Tel: 44 (0) 1483 682823

Fax: 44 (0) 1483 686201
Reda Bensmaia – Brown University, USA e-mail: d.marley@surrey.ac.uk
Alec G. Hargreaves – State University of Florida, USA
Peter Hawkins – University of Bristol, UK Conference Reviews Editor
Peter Brown
Prosper Kampoare – University of Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso School of Languages
Pádraig Ó Gormaile – National University of Ireland Australian National University
Zahia Smail Salhi – University of Leeds, UK Canberra
ACT 0200 Australia
T. Denean Sharpley-Whiting – Vanderbilt University, USA
Tel: 61 (0) 2 6249 2728
Bernard Mouralis – University of Cergy-Pontoise Fax: 61 (0) 2 6249 3252
Inmaculada Díaz Carbona – University of Cádiz e-mail: peter.brown@anu.adu.au
Papa Samba Diop – Université Paris XII
Anthony Chafer – University of Portsmouth Articles appearing in this journal are
abstracted and indexed in Linguistics and
Honorary Advisory Board Language Behavior Abstracts database,
Anne Judge – Former Professor of the University of Surrey Academic Search Elite, Academic Search
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Contributions
Opinion Language and style Author note
The views expressed in the International The Journal uses standard British A note on the author is required,
Journal of Francophone Studies are those English, and the Editor reserves the which includes an address. This
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avoided. Simple sentence structures are without titles, one forename plus
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The International Journal of Francophone English is a second language. The
Studies is a refereed journal. Strict journal also uses standard metropoli- Abstract
anonymity is accorded to both authors tan French, with English punctuation The abstract should be submitted in
and referees. There are normally two and English quotation marks. English and in French, and should
referees, chosen for expertise within concentrate on the significant findings.
the subject area, and they are asked Illustrations The abstract should not exceed 150
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Premiere bilingual journal in Francophone

postcolonial studies
Patrons of the journal include… semaine de vacances à Cap maudit, Mona ou le bateau-livre,
Assia Djebar (Académie Royale de Belgique 1999/ Ma maman est devenue une étoile. Critical bookss: Les
Académie Française 2005) Dérouilleurs, L'intégration. L'Immigré et sa ville. Minitel et
Prix de la Critique Internationale Biennale de Venise information dans les transports collectifs urbains., Ecarts
1979, Prix du Meilleur Film historique Berlin Festival d'identité. La Ville des autres: la famille immigrée et l'espace
1983, Jury Membre of the International Literary urbain. Les Lumières de Lyon. Quartiers sensibles. Espace
Neustadt Prize 1991, Prix Maurice-Maeterlinck Brusells et exclusion. Mobilités dans les quartiers périphériques
1995, Doctorat honoris causa Vienna University 1995, d'Avignon. Place du Pont ou la Médina de Lyon.
Prix Marguerite Yourcenar 1997, Prix du Meilleur
Werewere-Liking Gnepo (Officier de l’Ordre Culturel
Essai Germany 1998, Prix International de Palmi Italy
Ivoirien 1991, Chevalier des Arts et Lettres Françaises
1998, Prix de la Paix à Francfort-sur-le-Main 2000,
1992, Chevalier de l’Ordre National de Cote d’Ivoire
Doctorat honoris causa Concordia University 2002,
2000, Noma Award 2005)
Silver Chair Professor New York University 2002, Prix
Prix Arletty 1991, Prix de la Fondation René Praille
Littéraire Dedica Italy 2004, Doctorat honoris causa
1992, Prix Fonlon-Nichols de l’Excellence Littéraire
Osnabrück University 2005, Prix Pablo Neruda Naples
Université de l’Alberta 1993, Member of the Haut
2005, Prix Grinzane Cavour Turin 2006. Books: La
Conseil de la Francophonie 1997, Prix du meilleur
Soif, Les impatients, Les enfants du Nouveau Monde, Les téléfilm de ‘Vues d'Afrique’ Montréal 1988
alouettes naïves, Femmes d'Alger dans leur appartement,
L'amour la fantasia, Ombre sultane, Vaste est la prison, Les Lauréate Fondation Prince Claus pour la Culture et le
nuits de Strasbourg, Oran, langue morte, La femme sans Développement 2000. Plays: La Queue du diable, La
sépulture, La disparition de la langue française. Films: La Puissance de Um, Du Sommeil d’injuste, Une nouvelle
Nouba des femmes du Mont-Chenoua, La Zerda ou les terre, Les mains veulent dire, La Rougeole arc en ciel,
chants de l'oubli. Singue Mura, Un Touareg s'est marié à une Pygmée, La
Veuve Dylemme, Le Parler-Chanter - Parlare Cantando,
Henri Lopès (Grand Prix Littéraire de l'Afrique Noire Sunjata l’épopée mandingue, Héros d’eau, Quelque chose
1972) Afrique, L’Enfant Mbene. Novels: A la rencontre de…,
Former Ambassador to the UK, former Prime Minister Orphée dafric, Elle sera de jaspe et de corail, L'Amour-
and Foreign Minister of Congo, Candidate in 2001 cent-vies, La Mémoire amputée. Poem: On ne raisonne
for the post of Secrétaire Général de l’Organisation de pas avec le venin. Tales: Liboy Li Nkundung, Contes
la Francophonie. Books: Le Lys et le Flamboyant, Sur d'initiations féminines. Essays: Du rituel à la scène chez le
l'Autre Rive, Le Chercheur d'Afriques, Sans Tam Tam, Bassa du Cameroun, Une vision du Kaïdara, Statues
Tribaliques, Dossier Classé, La Nouvelle Romance, Le colons, Marinnettes du Mali. Films: Regard de fous,
Pleurer-Rire. Mother Land.
Azouz Begag (French Légion d'Honneur 1994) Raphaël Confiant (Prix des Amériques Insulaires et
Currently French Minister for Equal Opportunities, de la Guyane 2004)
Sociologist at France’s Conseil National de la Rech- Prix Antigone 1988, Prix Novembre 1991, Prix
erche Scientifique (CNRS), former member of France's Carbet de la Caraïbe 1994, Prix Casa de las Americas
Conseil Economique et Social, Visiting Professor in the 1995, Prix RFO 1998. Works in Creole: Jik dèyè do
Winthrop-King Institute for Contemporary French Bondyé, Grif An Tè, Jou Baré, Grif An Tè, Bitako-a, Kôd
and Francophone Studies at Florida State University Yanm, Marisosé, Ora lavi: nyouz. Creative works in
since 2002. Prix des Sorcières 1987; Prix de la Ville de French: Le Nègre et l’Amiral, Eau de café, Ravines du
Bobigny 1987, Prix Radio Beur 1989, Prix Falep du devant jour, L’Allée des soupirs, Commandeur du sucre,
Département du Gers 1990, Prix du livre Hebdo 1998, La Vierge du grand retour, Le Meurtre du Samedi-Gloria,
Prix France Télévision 1998. Novels: Le Gone du L’Archet du Colonel, Régisseur de rhum, Le Cahier de
Chaâba, Béni ou le paradis privé, Quand on est mort, c'est romances, Brin d’amour, Morne-Pichevin, Nuée ardente,
pour toute la vie, L'Ilet aux vents, Les Chiens aussi, Zenzela, Le Barbare enchanté, La Lessive du diable, La Panse du
Dis oualla! Tranches de vie, Les Voleurs d'écriture, Le chacal, Adèle et la pacotilleuse. Short Stories: Mémoires
Passeport, La Force du berger, Jordi et le rayon perdu: d’un fossoyeur, La Trilogie Tropicale, Bassin des oura-
énergie, Les Tireurs d'étoiles, Le Temps des villages, Une gans, La Savane des Pétrifications, La Baignoire de
303
Joséphine, La dernière java de Mama Josépha, La chute de Monde, La Migration des coeurs, Desirada, Le Coeur à
Louis Augustin, commandeur de plantation de canne à rire et à pleurer, Célanire cou-coupé, La Belle Créole.
sucre en l’île de la Martinique, Paradis Brisé. Critical Plays: Dieu nous l'a donné, Mort d'Oluwémi d'Ajumako,
essays: Eloge de la créolité Lettres créoles, Tracées antil- Le Morne de Massabielle, Pension les Alizés, An Tan
laises et continentales de la littérature: 1635–1975, Revolisyon, Comédie d'amour. Children’s books: ‘Victor
Aimé Césaire - une traversée paradoxale du siècle, Ecrire « et les barricades’. Je Bouquine, Haïti chérie (Rêves
la parole de nuit » La nouvelle littérature antillaise, nou- amers), Hugo le terrible, La Planète Orbis. Anthologies:
velles, poèmes, réflexions poétiques, Dictionnaire des Anthologie de la littérature africaine d'expression
Titim et Sirandanes, Devinettes et jeux de mots du monde française, La Poésie antillaise, Le Roman antillais,
créole, ethnolinguistique, KREYOL PALE, KREYOL Bouquet de voix pour Guy Tirolien, Caliban's Legacy,
MATJE… Analyse des significations attachées aux aspects L'Héritage de Caliban, Penser la créolité, co-edited with
littéraires, linguistiques et socio-historiques de l’écrit Madeleine Cottenet-Hage. Audio materials: Cheikh
créolophone de 1750 à 1995 aux Petites Antilles, en Hamidou Kane, Hamadou Hampaté Ba, Joseph Zobel,
Guyane et en Haïti. Aimé Césaire. Maryse Condé has also published
numerous articles and essays.:
Slimane Benaissa (Lauréat du Prix Société des
Auteurs et Compositeurs Dramatiques SACD1993)
Docteur Honoris causa Université de la Sorbonne
2005, member of the Haut-Conseil de la
Francophonie 2000-present. Plays: Au-delà du voile,
Mariane et le Marabout, Le Conseil de discipline, Les Fils
de l’amertume, Un Homme ordinaire pour quatre femmes
particulières, L’Avenir oublié, Prophètes sans dieu,
Mémoires à la dérive, Les confessions d’un musulman de
mauvaise foi, Peuple, peuple, La situation économique en
Algérie, Youm el-djemaa khardjou riam, Boualem zid el-
gouddam, Babour eghraq. Romans: Les fils de l’amer-
tume, Le silence de la falaise, La dernière nuit d’un damné,
Les colères du silence. Cinema: writing and/or partici-
pation in the writing of de Boualem zid el goudem,
(Mostra de Venise Prima œuvre 1980), Vent de sable (by
Mohamed Lakhdar Hamina, 1978), Le mariage de
Youcef (by Mefti, 1979), Il était une fois la guerre
(Franco-Algerian coproduction by Ahmed Rachedi
and Maurice Vailvic 1980), Le harem de madame
Osmane (by Nadir Moknèche 1999), Le neuvième mois
(Franco-Palistinian production by Ali Nassar 2000),
Viva l’Aldjérie (by Nadir Moknèche 2002).
Maryse Condé (Commandeur de l'Ordre des Arts et
des Lettres 2001, Prix de l'Académie Française
1988, honorary member of Académie des Lettres du
Québec 1998)
Grand Prix Littéraire de la Femme 1987, Prix Alain
Boucheron 1987, Prix LiBeratur Allemagne 1988,
Prix Puterbaugh 1993, 50e Grand Prix Littéraire des
Jeunes Lecteurs de l'Ile de France 1994, Prix Carbet
de la Caraïbe 1997, Prix Marguerite Yourcenar
2000, Hurston/Wright Legacy Award 2005. Novels
and Short Stories: Heremakhonon, En attendant le
bonheur (Heremakhonon), Une Saison à Rihata, Ségou:
Les murailles de terre I, Ségou: La terre en miettes II,
Pays Mêlé/Nanna-Ya, Pays Mêlé, Moi, Tituba, sorcière -
Noire de Salem, La vie scélérate, Traversée de la man-
grove, Les Derniers Rois Mages, La Colonie du Nouveau
304
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Past Guest Editors

The editors wish to thank the following scholars for having invaluably con-
tributed to the journal by commissioning and editing the following issues:
Ian Magadeara
(University of Liverpool)
France-India-Britain: (post)colonial triangles
Volume 5 Number 2 (2002)
Valerie Orlando
(University of Illinois Wesleyan)
Memory in North African writings
Najib Redouane
(California State University Long Beach)
Sephardic literature in North Africa and Canada
Pascale De Souza
(John Hopkins University)
H. Adlai Murdoch
(University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign)
Oceanic Dialogues: from the Black Atlantic to the Indo-Pacific
Volume 8 Numbers 2&3 (2005)
Inmaculada Diaz Narbouna
(University of Cadiz)
Perspectives and problematic of the African Essay
Rosemary Chapman
(University of Nottingham)
Linguistic and Cultural Contact and Conflict in Francophone Canada
Azzedine Haddour
(University College London)
Margaret A. Majumdar
(University of Portsmouth)
Whither Francophone Studies? Launching the Debate
Volume 10 Numbers 1 and 2 (2007)
Alec G. Hargreaves
(Florida State University)
Jean-Marc Moura
(Université de Lille-III)
Extending the Boundaries of Francophone Postcolonial Studies
IJFS 10 (3) 306 © Intellect Ltd 2007 306

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International Journal of Francophone Studies Volume 10 Number 3

© 2007 Intellect Ltd
Editorial. English Language. doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.307/2
Extending the boundaries of francophone
postcolonial studies
Alec G. Hargreaves Florida State University
Jean-Marc Moura Université de Lille-III
‘Francophone’ and ‘postcolonial’ studies have often been seen as rival if 1. Examples include
not antagonistic academic fields. Where work in the second has been led Alec G. Hargreaves
and Mark McKinney
by anglophone scholars for whom the politics of culture has been of pri- (eds), Postcolonial
mordial importance, the first has generally been preferred by scholars in Cultures in France,
France who have seen in ‘postcolonialism’ an oversimplified and unduly London/New York:
Routledge, 1997;
politicized ‘Anglo-Saxon’ approach to the cultures of formerly colonized Charles Forsdick and
peoples. In recent years, there has been an increasingly fruitful dialogue David Murphy (eds),
between researchers from both sides of this divide. If it is true that there Francophone
Postcolonial Studies:
has often been greater enthusiasm for this dialogue among scholars based A Critical Introduction,
in the English-speaking world,1 their counterparts in French-speaking London: Arnold,
countries have become increasingly willing to acknowledge that postcolo- 2003; Kamal Salhi
(ed.), Francophone
nialism is at least worthy of debate,2 despite the persistence of considerable Post-colonial Cultures:
scepticism in France. At the same time, both approaches have been chal- Critical Essays,
lenged and stimulated by new theoretical paradigms focusing on develop- Lanham, MD:
Lexington, 2003;
ments such as globalization and transnationalism.3 These and other H. Adlai Murdoch
developments have significantly expanded the horizons of francophone and Anne Donadey
studies in a great variety of ways, key aspects of which are explored in this (eds), Postcolonial
Theory and Francophone
special issue of the International Journal of Francophone Studies. Literary Studies,
This is the final part of the Tenth Anniversary volume of the journal. Gainesville: University
In their introduction to the first part, Azzedine Haddour and Margaret Press of Florida,
2005; Margaret A.
Majumdar asked: ‘Whither Francophone Studies?’4 The answer which they Majumdar,
formulated to this question had both descriptive and normative aspects. In Postcoloniality: The
their description of the state of the field today, they highlighted the relation- French Dimension,
Oxford: Berg, 2007.
ship between francophone studies and postcolonialism as a nodal point
of current debates. In charting a preferred course for the future, they warned 2. Among the first
publications reflecting
against the dangers of postcolonial theory, arguing that francophone this interest were a
studies will blossom most fully if it is conceived as a form of Area Studies themed number of
open to a wide range of multi- and inter-disciplinary approaches. Dédale, nos 5–6,
Spring 1997, entitled
The value of a body of theory depends in part on what it is held to consist ‘Postcolonialisme :
of. Some, such as Richard Serrano, see postcolonial theory as fixated upon Décentrement,
the colonial past, ‘bent on making every author tell the same story over Déplacement,
Disséemination’;
and over’.5 Others, including Haddour and Majumdar, believe that anglo- Jean-Marc Moura,
phone postcolonial theorists such as Homi Bhabha and Stuart Hall obfus- Littératures
cate the specificities of colonial history and are in danger of leading francophones et
théorie postcoloniale,
francophone studies into a politically irresponsible a-historical ‘meta-discourse
IJFS 10 (3) 307–311 © Intellect Ltd 2007 307

Paris: Presses which is bent on the theorization of the ambivalence of the subject’.6 While
Universitaires de differently configured in important respects, both critiques warn that post-
France, 1999; an
issue of Africultures, colonial theory has become too big for its boots. Ironically, in both cases
no. 28, May 2000, postcolonialism is accused of having itself become imperialist in nature.
entitled Serrano claims that ‘Postcolonial Studies has essentially made the entire
‘Postcolonialisme:
inventaire et débats’; planet and its entire history its domain’,7 while Haddour and Majumdar
Jacqueline Bardolph, ask rhetorically if postcolonialism has ‘developed into a metatheory of glob-
Etudes postcoloniales et alization which forgets that globalization has not put an end to exploitation
littérature, Paris :
Champion, 2002. The and to the practice of colonialism?’8
pace of such If, as Haddour and Majumdar fear, postcolonial approaches to writing
publications has of French expression are apt to become attempts to ‘subsume francophone
quickened recently.
Notable recent literature’,9 placing the whole of francophone literature under the aegis of
examples include postcolonialism, this would indeed be a cause for concern. But in counter-
Pascal Blanchard and ing that danger, it is important not to throw out the baby with the bath-
Nicolas Bancel (eds),
Culture post-coloniale water. Understood in its broadest and most literal sense to include all
1961–2006, Paris: writing of French expression, francophone literature may be seen to
Autrement, 2006 and embrace all writing in French within as well as outside France, including
in the same year
themed issues of the countries such as Belgium and Switzerland where French is not a colonial
journals Hérodote, importation and where, by the same token, a postcolonial perspective has
Labyrinthe, Multitudes only limited relevance. Yet most scholarly work on literatures qualified as
and Contretemps; a
themed number of ‘francophone’, including that appearing in the International Journal of
Mouvements followed Francophone Studies and many comparable publications, applies the term
in 2007. solely to the work of writers who are situated outside France or in migrant
3. See, for example, the diasporas now present in the hexagone but originating outside it. As the
themed number of great majority (though not all) francophones living or originating outside
PMLA, 116: 1,
January 2001, entitled France have their ethnic origins in formerly colonized peoples among
‘Globalizing Literary whom the legacy of French domination is still very far from effaced, it
Studies’, and would be misguided to deny that approaching their writings from a post-
statements collected
by Patricia Yaeger in colonial perspective can often be fruitful. While francophone postcolonial
‘Editor’s Column: The studies thus needs to be seen as a legitimate, indeed vital part of the wider
End of Postcolonial domain of francophone studies, it would be equally misguided to regard it
Theory? A Roundtable
with Sunil Agnani, as a replacement for this broader field. If, as Haddour and Majumdar hope,
Fernando Coronil, francophone studies develop into a fully formed variant of Area Studies,
Gaurav Desai, there is every reason to believe that the inter- and multi-disciplinary
Mamadou Diof, Simon
Gikandi, Susie Tharu, approaches characteristic of such a field can and should readily include
and Jennifer Wenzel’, postcolonial perspectives.
in PMLA, 122: 3, May The interface between postcolonialism, francophone studies and newer
2007, pp. 633–51.
paradigms such as globalization and transnationalism was explored by
4. Azzedine Haddour participants at the international conference on ‘Boundaries and Limits of
and Margaret
A. Majumdar, Postcolonialism: Anglophone, Francophone, Global’ hosted by Florida
‘Editorial State University’s Winthrop-King Institute for Contemporary French and
Introduction: Whither Francophone Studies in association with the Society for Francophone
Francophone Studies?
Launching the Postcolonial Studies on 30 November–2 December 2006. The articles
Debate’, International assembled here have been selected from among the hundred or so papers
Journal of Francophone presented at the conference. If the articles may appear at first sight to be
Studies, 10: 1–2,
2007, pp. 7–16. somewhat disparate – they span several centuries and range from the
Caribbean, West Africa and the Mediterranean basin to Eastern Europe –
5. Richard Serrano,
Against the Postcolonial: they were selected because of an important underlying similarity: the
‘Francophone’ Writers innovativeness with which they explore the relationship between post-
at the Ends of French colonialism and francophonie. It is the contention of the scholars who
308 Alec G. Hargreaves and Jean-Marc Moura

have contributed to the present collection not simply that postcolonialism Empire, Lanham, MD:
can in general terms help us to understand significant aspects of fran- Lexington, 2005, p. 3.
cophonie but, more specifically, that a postcolonial approach to the fran- 6. Haddour and
cophone world can illuminate regions, individual writers and historical Majumdar, p. 14.
periods in ways that have not hitherto been considered with the benefit of 7. Serrano, p. 3.
this approach. 8. Haddour and
Like the first part of this anniversary volume, the articles collected here Majumdar, p. 14.
show that francophone studies is becoming an increasingly rich and diverse 9. ibid., p. 11.
field with expanding spatial, diachronic and disciplinary boundaries. They
also reflect a similar expansion in the field of postcolonial studies, which
was initially concerned almost exclusively with African, Asian and Oceanic
peoples marked by the colonial imprint of west European nations. Recently
it has been observed that east European and Asian peoples previously
dominated by the Soviet Union may also be productively studied within a
postcolonial optic. Over a long period of time before, during and after the
duration of the Soviet Union, a significant number of writers originating in
Russia and eastern Europe have chosen to express themselves in French.
Some, such as Eugène Ionesco, have generally been treated as ‘French’
writers. Others, such as Milan Kundera and Andreï Makine, have been
labelled as ‘francophone’. Until now, few have been studied within a post-
colonial optic. Article One bridges this divide by exploring the extent to
which East Europeans who write in French may be considered not only as
francophone but also as postcolonial writers.
The article rightly observes that this new slant on both francophone
and postcolonial studies involves not only the redrawing of spatial frames
of analysis but also the recognition of the salience of diachronic changes in
determining the pertinence of the postcolonial paradigm. If, as the article
suggests, virtually every culture may be considered to have been dominated
by another at some point in time, the pertinence of a postcolonial approach
depends crucially on the balance of power in transcultural relations at spe-
cific historical moments. While the recognition of changes over time may
limit the pertinence of such an approach in relation to certain cultural
spaces, elsewhere a strong case may be made for applying a postcolonial
approach to ‘French’ or ‘francophone’ spaces over longer periods than
those most commonly associated with postcolonial studies. Citing the case
of the Haitian revolutionary leader Jean-Jacques Dessalines, Article Two
suggests that we need to revise customary notions of the beginnings of
postcolonial theory. In presenting Dessalines as an opponent not only of
slavery but also of colonial domination, the article claims a place for him
as a precursor of twentieth-century Caribbean writers such as Aimé Césaire
and Frantz Fanon, who are more commonly regarded as founding figures
of postcolonialism. Casting the net wider, Article Three argues for a thorough-
going re-theorizing of francophonie and postcolonialism from the Ancien
Régime through the revolutionary period and down to the present day.
The article suggests that the French and Haitian Revolutions led to the
emergence of new discourses in French: the former slave, who was mute
or inaudible according to the Code noir, became able to articulate his or
her own speech and to become, literally, francophone. Article Four argues
in turn that in the short-lived Ecole d’Alger, led by writers such as
Gabriel Audisio and Albert Camus during the apogee of European colonial
Editorial introduction. Extending the boundaries of francophone... 309

domination, may be seen the seeds of radical challenges to the binary

cultural politics promoted by colonizing states such as France.
In different ways, Article Five and Article Six problematize the cultural
dynamics most commonly highlighted by proponents of postcolonial studies,
who have generally focused on ‘high’ culture of an essentially literary
nature, giving less attention to more popular cultural forms. Article Five
sees in Mongo Beti’s turn to crime fiction the reconciliation of a popular
literary genre with the advancement of postcolonialism. It suggests that
Beti crafted his last two books as crime novels because this type of fiction
allows the author to reconcile two contradictory but important literary
criteria in the African postcolonial context: realism and popularity. Article
Six makes the case for a more engaged, interdisciplinary approach to
Caribbean cultural history giving due recognition to the importance of
rhythmic and other musical forms. In a further plea for interdisciplinary
studies, Article Seven suggests that the interface between liberation from
sexual domination on the one hand and from colonial domination on the
other has been insufficiently explored. The article shows how Frantz
Fanon and Simone de Beauvoir, key figures in the struggles for colonial and
sexual liberation respectively, interconnected in neglected but important ways
during the Algerian war of independence. The story of their meeting, told in
de Beauvoir’s La Force des choses, leads to a postcolonial reading of their writ-
ings that sheds light on important themes such as the crucial place Fanon
accorded to women in his theory of decolonization.
We hope that in this collection of articles readers will find not only new
ideas and forms of understanding pertaining to the relationship between
francophone cultures and postcolonialism but also stimulation to under-
take further research going beyond the customary limits of francophonie. It
is thus our hope that in extending the boundaries of francophone postcolo-
nial studies, in place of the tense stand-off which has sometimes charac-
terized relations between proponents of francophone and postcolonial
studies respectively, the relationship between these two fields may be seen
to be synergetic rather than oppositional in nature.
References
Africultures (2000), no. 28, May, themed number entitled ‘Postcolonialisme:
inventaire et débats’.
Bardolph, Jacqueline (2002), Etudes postcoloniales et littérature, Paris : Champion.
Blanchard, Pascal and Bancel, Nicolas (eds) (2006), Culture post-coloniale 1961–2006,
Paris: Autrement.
Contretemps (2006), no. 16, May, themed number entitled ‘Post-colonialisme et
immigration’.
Dédale (1997), nos 5–6, Spring, themed number entitled ‘Postcolonialisme:
Décentrement, Déplacement, Disséemination’.
Forsdick, Charles and Murphy, David (eds) (2003), Francophone Postcolonial Studies:
A Critical Introduction, London: Arnold.
Haddour, Azzedine and Majumdar, Margaret A. (2007), ‘Editorial Introduction:
Whither Francophone Studies? Launching the Debate’, International Journal of
Francophone Studies, 10: 1–2, pp. 7–16.
Hargreaves, Alec G. and McKinney, Mark (eds) (1997), Postcolonial Cultures in France,
London/New York: Routledge.
310 Alec G. Hargreaves and Jean-Marc Moura

Hérodote (2006), no. 120, January, themed number entitled ‘La Question
postcoloniale’.
Labyrinthe (2006), no. 24, Fall, themed number entitled ‘Faut-il être postcolonial?’
Majumdar, Margaret A. (2007), Postcoloniality: The French Dimension, Oxford: Berg.
Moura, Jean-Marc (1999), Littératures francophones et théorie postcoloniale, Paris:
Presses Universitaires de France.
Mouvements (2007), no. 51, Fall, themed number entitled ‘Faut-il avoir peur du
postcolonial?
Multitudes (2006), no. 26, Fall, themed number entitled ‘Postcolonial et histoire’.
Murdoch, H. Adlai and Donadey, Anne (eds) (2005), Postcolonial Theory and
Francophone Literary Studies, Gainesville: University Press of Florida.
PMLA (2001), vol. 116, no. 1, January, themed number entitled ‘Globalizing Literary
Studies’.
Salhi, Kamal (ed.) (2003), Francophone Post-colonial Cultures: Critical Essays,
Lanham, MD: Lexington.
Serrano, Richard (2005), Against the Postcolonial: ‘Francophone’ Writers at the Ends
of French Empire, Lanham, MD: Lexington.
Yaeger, Patricia (2007), ‘Editor’s Column: The End of Postcolonial Theory? A
Roundtable with Sunil Agnani, Fernando Coronil, Gaurav Desai, Mamadou
Diof, Simon Gikandi, Susie Tharu, and Jennifer Wenzel’, in PMLA, 122: 3, May,
pp. 633–51.
Suggested citation
Hargreaves, A. G. and Moura, J.-M. (2007), ‘Editorial introduction. Extending the
boundaries of francophone postcolonial studies’, International Journal of
Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 307–311, doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.307/2
Contributor details
Alec G. Hargreaves is Director of the Winthrop-King Institute for Contemporary
French and Francophone Studies at Florida State University. A specialist on post-
colonial minorities in France, he has authored and edited numerous publications
including The Colonial Experience in French Fiction (London: Macmillan/Atlantic
Highlands, N.J.: Humanities Press, 1981), Voices from the North African Immigrant
Community in France: Immigration and Identity in Beur Fiction (Oxford/New York:
Berg, 1991), Immigration, ‘Race’ and Ethnicity in Contemporary France (London/
New York: Routledge, 1995), Memory, Empire and Postcolonialism: Legacies of
French Colonialism (Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2005) and Multi-Ethnic France:
Immigration, Politics, Culture and Society (London/New York : Routledge, 2007).
Contact: Department of Modern Languages and Linguistics, 402 Diffenbaugh,
Florida State University, Tallahassee, Florida 32306-1540, USA.
E-mail: Ahargrea@mailer.fsu.edu
Jean-Marc Moura is professor of Comparative Literature at the University Charles-

de-Gaulle-Lille III (France) and director of the Centre de Recherches en Littérature
Générale et Comparée of this university. Among his publications are Littératures
francophones et théorie postcoloniale (Paris : P.U.F., 1999), Exotisme et lettres fran-
cophones (Paris: P.U.F., 2003), and with V.Gély, J.Prungnaud, E.Stead (eds):
Littératures européennes et mythologies lointaines (Lille : UL3, 2006). Contact:
Université Charles-de-Gaulle-Lille III, Domaine universitaire ‘Pont de Bois’, B.P.60149,
59653 Villeneuve d’Ascq Cedex, France.
E-mail: jean-marc.moura@wanadoo.fr
Editorial introduction. Extending the boundaries of francophone... 311

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Article. English Language. doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.313/1
Francophone postcolonialism from

Eastern Europe
Alison Rice University of Notre Dame
Abstract Keywords
This article draws from recent research that makes an argument for studying lit- Andreï Makine
erature from what David Chioni Moore calls ‘the post-Soviet sphere’ under the borders
rubric of postcolonial theory. It contends that conceiving of countries formerly Eastern Europe
under Soviet rule as having some characteristics in common with countries once European Union
under French colonial rule can yield productive results. It is quite possible that the francophonie
concentration in literary studies on relations between the First and Third Worlds Milan Kundera
has left a void with respect to the Second World, at least with respect to francophone postcolonialism
writers. We can begin to fill this void by studying texts in French by writers from translation
places formerly under Soviet domination, and this article examines the fictional and
theoretical works of Julia Kristeva, Agota Kristof, Milan Kundera, Andreï Makine
and Brina Svit. Their insights are used here to explore the extent to which intellec-
tuals from small Central and Eastern European countries find themselves in a ‘post-
colonial’ position – politically and linguistically – similar to that of francophone
scholars and writers from the Maghreb, sub-Saharan Africa or the Antilles.
Résumé
Cet article s’inspire des publications récentes qui suggèrent qu’on puisse utile-
ment concevoir la littérature de ce que David Chioni Moore appelle ‘la sphère
post-soviétique’ à la lueur de la théorie postcoloniale. Il propose qu’une étude des
similitudes entre les pays ayant subi la domination soviétique et les anciennes
colonies françaises nous mène à des résultats convaincants. Il est possible que la
focalisation habituelle sur les relations entre le Premier et le Tiers monde en littéra-
ture ait laissé un vide par rapport au Deuxième monde — du moins pour ce qui
concerne les écrivains francophones — et on peut commencer à remplir cette
lacune en étudiant des textes en français écrits par des auteurs provenant des lieux
autrefois soumis à l’empire soviétique. Dans cet article, j’examine les ouvrages
théoriques et fictifs de Julia Kristeva, Agota Kristof, Milan Kundera, Andreï
Makine, et Brina Svit. Leurs réflexions, ici, servent à voir à quel point les intel-
lectuels des petits pays de l’Europe centrale et de l’Europe de l’Est se trouvent dans
une position ‘postcoloniale’ — à la fois politique et linguistique — semblable à
celle des chercheurs et des écrivains du Maghreb, de l’Afrique subsaharienne
ou des Antilles.
‘J’appelle la langue française une langue ennemie’1 are words written not by 1. Agota Kristof,
someone from a former French colony, but instead by European author L’analphabète, Geneva:
Éditions Zoé, 2004,
Agota Kristof whose fiction in French has met with considerable success not p. 24.
only in the original, but also in translations in over thirty languages. After

2. ibid., p. 44. fleeing her native Hungary in 1956, Kristof was afforded asylum in
3. ibid., p. 54. Switzerland where she initially found work in a factory. Her experience in
the West was similar to that of many immigrants who struggle with the lan-
4. ibid., p. 24.
guage, and the culture, of the new place of residence. In her autobiographi-
5. It is not my goal in cal récit, Kristof evokes the seemingly paradoxical status of this beautiful
this article to
distinguish between country that is a ‘désert’ for refugees, ‘un désert qu’il nous faut traverser
Central and Eastern pour arriver à ce qu’on appelle “intégration,” “assimilation”’.2 Although she
European countries, has become a celebrated author of the French language, this foreign-born
since such a divide is
complicated and writer insists that she has not mastered this tongue, and that she is unable
controversial. When I to exercise her profession without frequently consulting the dictionary. This
refer to ‘Eastern is, at least in part, why French is an ‘enemy’ to her. It is a language that she
Europe’, therefore,
I am including maintains she ‘did not choose’. It was imposed upon her by destiny, by
countries arguably chance, by circumstances.3 To make matters worse, this imposed form of
situated in ‘Central expression is ‘killing her mother tongue’, in Kristof ’s own estimation: ‘la
Europe’ in a category
that I define as ‘east’ langue française […] est en train de tuer ma langue maternelle’.4
of such ‘western’ Because she often carries the label ‘French feminist theorist’, we tend to
European countries as forget that literary critic and novelist Julia Kristeva also hails from Eastern
France, Germany,
Italy and Austria. Europe.5 In a recent text, Kristeva reminds us that leaving behind one’s
native tongue is an act similar to matricide when she speaks of the ‘infinite
6. Julia Kristeva, ‘L’autre
langue ou la condition mourning’ that accompanies exile: ‘Dans ce deuil infini, où la langue et le
d’être en vie’, corps ressuscitent dans les battements d’un français greffé, j’ausculte le
15 October 2006, cadavre toujours chaud de ma mémoire maternelle’.6 The title of her reflec-
http://www.kristeva.fr
/1565. html?*session* tions points to Kristeva’s conviction that a second language ultimately
id*key*=*session* offers the possibility of life, particularly for the writer or the intellectual:
id*val* ‘L’autre langue ou la condition d’être en vie’.7 But the circumstances that
7. ibid. conditioned her own thorough acquisition of French were not without con-
8. ibid.
sequences, and she experiences the affliction of her exile even after residing
for over forty years in Paris, far from her Bulgarian homeland: ‘la souf-
9. Brina Svit, Moreno,
Paris: Gallimard,
france me revient, Bulgarie, ma souffrance’.8
2003, p. 26. The particular suffering that plagues writers from Eastern Europe is
10. ibid.
well formulated by novelist Brina Svit from the former Yugoslavia, who
also left her country for France: ‘mon grand problème était plutôt de quit-
11. Pascale Casanova, ter ma langue maternelle, de la trahir: quand on appartient à un petit peu-
La République mondiale
des lettres, Paris: Seuil, ple de deux millions d’habitants qui fonde toute son identité sur sa langue,
1999, p. 380. les choses se posent en ces termes-là’.9 Like Czech-born Milan Kundera,
Svit first established herself as a writer in her native tongue; it was not
until she had lived in France for a number of years that she exchanged her
‘small language’ for a ‘large one’, taking the advice of a well-known
French intellectual according to her account: ‘Je me souviens avoir [sic]
demandé à Philippe Sollers ce qu’il aurait fait s’il était né dans une petite
langue comme la mienne. “Je l’aurais échangée contre une grande”,
s’est-il exclamé’.10
In her oft-quoted study La République mondiale des lettres, Pascale
Casanova addresses the phenomenon of writers from small countries who
convert to a ‘grande langue’, such as French or English, in order to reach a
larger audience and escape the marginalization of what she terms ‘untrans-
lated’ writers, underscoring the particular role of Paris as a ‘denationalized
literary capital’ that allows for exchange of novel ideas across national lin-
guistic borders.11 Casanova’s use of the word untranslated is at once
metaphorical and literal. In her view, untranslated writers usually do not
314 Alison Rice

have their texts translated into other tongues because they do not compose 12. David Damrosch,
works with an appeal that extends beyond national linguistic borders. What is World
Literature? Princeton:
David Damrosch adopts a similar stance with respect to translation and Princeton University
national belonging in his analysis of the concept of ‘World Literature’: Press, 2003, p. 289.
13. Julia Kristeva, Julia
The balance of credit and loss remains a distinguishing mark of national Kristeva Interviews,
versus world literature: literature stays within its national or regional tradi- New York: Columbia
University Press,
tion when it usually loses in translation, whereas works become world liter- 1996, p. 4.
ature when they gain on balance in translation, stylistic losses offset by an
14. Julia Kristeva,
expansion in depth as they increase their range.12 Micropolitique, Paris:
Éditions de l’Aube,
One might argue that by writing directly in a language other than their 2001, p. 168.
mother tongue, Eastern European francophone authors are themselves
engaging in a sort of ‘translation’ in the original that allows them to trans-
cend national borders from the outset of the literary creation.
In various interviews, as well as in her fictional and theoretical texts,
Kristeva evokes her experience as a young woman from Eastern Europe
who arrived in Paris in late December 1965. In her spoken reflections on
the subject, aired on the radio station France Culture in 1988 and printed
in an English version nearly a decade later, Kristeva turned to the term
translation in order to describe the psychoanalytic experience that was so
crucial to her development, personal and professional, after her move to
France. According to her understanding of the term, it can be applied to
literature as well as psychoanalysis:
My analysis was conducted in French, which enabled me to ‘translate’ my

childhood impressions of the colors, tastes, and sounds of my country into
French and to transpose them onto my new French culture. Because my
work focuses specifically on language and culture, I found this process to be
invaluable. Without such an experience, a foreign language would be merely
a second skin, artificial and mechanical. If we want to understand literature
or our psychoanalytic patients, we must translate childhood memories into a
foreign language. For me, the analytic process is what enabled this transla-
tion to occur.13
In later weekly contributions to the same radio station, Kristeva devoted

one programme to another woman writer who has received considerable
praise for her literary translations of memories (both her own and those of
others from her country of origin): Assia Djebar. In her morning mono-
logue for France Culture, Kristeva addressed the exiled writer’s relation-
ship to the French land and language in the following fashion:
Inutile de vous dire que l’exilée que je suis, Française d’adoption, ne peut que
se reconnaître dans cette aventure… Comme Assia Djebar, j’aime le français,
sa rigueur logique, sa précision sensuelle qui n’a d’égale que la géométrie
d’un jardin à la française.14
By underscoring her similarities to the Algerian-born author in this man-

ner, Kristeva takes a meaningful step towards creating new categories of
comparison among writers of French. Drawing from her own experience
Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe 315

15. Though I think it is to address Djebar’s ‘adventure’ is a gesture that prompts literary critics to
fruitful to compare consider the creative work of writers from Eastern Europe alongside
works by writers
like Julia Kristeva that of authors from areas formerly under French control, such as the
and Assia Djebar, Maghreb.15
I intend in no way In La République mondiale des lettres, Casanova is careful to distinguish
to undermine the
significant differences between colonized or formerly colonized writers and those from small
between writers from countries, insisting that a different form of domination characterizes the
former French situation of European authors like Romanian-born Émile Cioran or Irish-
colonies and those
from Eastern Europe. born Samuel Beckett who at some point adopted French as their lan-
The relationship guage of writing: ‘Pour tous les écrivains issus des pays qui ont longtemps
between postcolonial été sous domination coloniale, et pour eux seulement, le bilinguisme
francophone writers
from such places as (comme traduction incorporée) est la marque indélébile et première de la
Algeria and the domination politique’.16 While I agree with Casanova that it is important
French language is to distinguish between francophone writers from Europe and franco-
notoriously fraught
with difficulty because phone writers from former French colonies, I think that the differences
of the tongue’s violent between them become complicated if we begin to examine the experience
history in their land. of Eastern European writers in the context of new research that seeks to
Assia Djebar makes
it clear in L’Amour, consider countries formerly under the domination of the Soviet Union as
la fantasia that ‘postcolonial’.
writing in French is Applying this new research to the case of Eastern European writers of
particularly difficult
for her due to this French seems to follow Mireille Rosello’s incitement to ‘unhome’ franco-
past: ‘Cette langue phone studies through transnational comparative studies:
était autrefois
sarcophage des miens
[…] Me mettre à nu I would hope that such transnational and transdisciplinary encounters
dans cette langue me between types of Francophone studies would lead to a sort of ‘unhoming’
fait entretenir un dan- of the field: it would make us perceive our discipline not as ‘homeless’
ger permanent de
déflagration’, Assia (Francophone studies do have a space in the institutional home) nor exiled
Djebar, L’Amour, la (home is not somewhere else), but as struggling with unhomeliness, where
fantasia, Paris: Albin legitimacy is a ghost that we keep conjuring up. 17
Michel, 1995, p. 241.
16. Casanova 2000: 352. Julia Kristeva participates in the act of ‘unhoming’ francophone studies,
17. Mireille Rosello, even though this is not her primary field of expertise, in her radio pro-
‘Unhoming grammes for France Culture. Her reflections bring attention to franco-
Francophone Studies:
A House in the phone writers from Algeria, as we have already seen, but they go beyond to
Middle of the Current’, reveal a larger view of ‘francophonie’ when Kristeva speaks highly of con-
in Farid Laroussi and temporary works in French composed by writers from such unexpected
Christopher L. Miller
(eds), Yale French places as China:
Studies, 103, 2003,
p. 132. Le plus étonnant, dans cette épopée, c’est qu[e cette épopée] est écrite
18. Kristeva, Micropolitique, directement en français, et qu’elle inscrit dans notre langue une étrangeté
p. 168. inconnue. Le français qui s’est ouvert, déjà, au monde maghrébin et antil-
lais, subit ici un nouveau métissage. La langue de Rabelais et de Voltaire
absorbe, comme faisant partie de sa propre mémoire, ces histoires de familles
paysannes qui sortent de leurs yadong.18
The new ‘métissage’ to which Kristeva refers in this passage is one that
also marks her own work as a writer from Eastern Europe. She brings her
personal perspective as ‘a foreigner, a migrant’ to writing in French in
such a way that this second language is changed by the mother tongue, a
transformation brought about by
316 Alison Rice

the grafting of what comes from another culture, another mentality, onto 19. Julia Kristeva, Julia
the language I adopt and that I assume welcomes me. In this case, it means Kristeva Interviews,
p. 169.
grafting onto the body of the French language and syntax an experience of
sorrow and hurt that originates elsewhere and is perhaps liable to awaken 20. Sneja Gunew,
‘“Hauntings by
other effects.19 Otherness”: Theory’s
Home, Post-Colonial
It is my conviction that bringing attention to the particular ‘sorrow’ and Displacements,
and the Future of
‘hurt’ from the ‘elsewhere’ that is Eastern Europe, at once proximate and Comparative
distant to the ‘western world’ epitomized by France, will create a valuable Literature’, Canadian
new area of study or scholars concerned with the phenomenon of franco- Review of Comparative
Literature, 22: 3–4,
phonie as it intersects with ‘postcolonial studies’. September/December
1995, p. 405.
Eastern European as postcolonial 21. Steven Tötösy de
An example of the rather recent classification of Eastern European litera- Zepetnek, ‘Post-
ture as postcolonial appears in the Canadian Review of Comparative Colonialities: The
“Other,” the System,
Literature: the final section of a special 1995 issue of the bilingual publica- and a Personal
tion is devoted to ‘East Central European Postcolonialities’. In her intro- Perspective, or This
duction to the publication, Sneja Gunew writes that ‘the break-up of the (Too) is Comparative
Literature’, Canadian
Soviet empire might suggest a fertile field for post-colonial questions’.20 Review of Comparative
Steven Tötösy’s complementary introduction develops this suggestion Literature, 22: 3–4,
through a ‘centre/periphery’ approach to illustrate the way the former September/December
1995, pp. 400– 01.
Soviet Union exerted power. Tötösy justifies this approach in the following
manner: 22. David Chioni Moore,
‘Is the Post- in
Postcolonial the
Based on the assumption that the former USSR may be understood as centre Post- in Post-Soviet?:
by its political, military, economic, and ideological parameters in its relation- Toward a Global
Postcolonial Critique’,
ships with its satellite countries, East Central European literatures are under-
PMLA, 116:1,
stood as the periphery in relation to the Soviet centre and consequently, as January 2001,
post-colonial situations.21 p. 121.
23. Kwame Anthony
In a 2001 PMLA article devoted exclusively to this question, David Chioni Appiah, ‘Is the “Post”
in “Postcolonial”
Moore seeks to prove ‘how extraordinarily postcolonial the societies of the the “Post” in
former Soviet regions are’ and makes a convincing case for the study of “Postmodern”?’
‘the post-Soviet sphere’ under the rubric of postcolonial theory.22 Moore’s Lingua Franca, 17: 2,
Winter 1991.
title, ‘Is the Post- in Postcolonial the Post- in Post-Soviet?’, an obvious
send-up to Kwame Anthony Appiah’s essay ‘Is the Post- in Postmodernism 24. Moore, ‘Is the Post- in
the Post- in Postcolonial?’,23 bears a subtitle that reveals his leanings: Postcolonial the
Post- in Post-Soviet?’
‘Toward a Global Postcolonial Critique’. His characterization of the situa- p. 121.
tion in Central Europe echoes Tötösy’s argument:
I speak here principally of the post-World War II Soviet expansion to

the independent Baltics and into nations such as Poland, Hungary,
Czechoslovakia, Romania, and Bulgaria. By most classic measures—lack of
sovereign power, restrictions on travel, military occupation, lack of convert-
ible specie, a domestic economy ruled by the dominating state, and forced
education in the colonizer’s tongue—Central Europe’s nations were indeed
under Russo-Soviet control from roughly 1948 to 1989 or 1991.24
Gayatri Spivak has also spoken out in favour of including post-Soviet countries
in comparative postcolonial studies. In The Death of a Discipline, for instance,

25. Gayatri Chakravorty she addresses her hope for a ‘new Comparative literature’ that places the
Spivak, The Death of a old areas (namely ‘Africa, Asia and Hispanic’) alongside several unprece-
Discipline, New York:
Columbia University dented ones: ‘It will take in its sweep the new postcoloniality of the
Press, 2003, p. 84. post-Soviet sector and the special place of Islam in today’s breaking
26. Marc Crépon, Altérités world’.25 It is significant that Spivak should turn in this passage to ‘the
de l’Europe, Paris: post-Soviet sector’. It is also worthy of note that she should mention
Galilée, 2006, p. 72. this sector in the same phrase as ‘the special place of Islam’ at present.
27. ibid., pp. 72–73. Such a juxtaposition recalls the comparison Julia Kristeva establishes
28. ibid., p. 73. between her own experience and that of Assia Djebar. One might object
that Spivak seems to be encouraging critics to engage with rather vast
spheres of comparison, but the postcolonial similarities between these
regions might be more pertinent than we would initially think.
In his 2006 study, Altérités de l’Europe, Marc Crépon calls attention to
the continent’s inherent division in a tellingly titled section, ‘Mémoires
d’empire’. Crépon provides a compelling argument that the European
Union can be split according to each member nation’s relation to empire:
‘Une ligne de fracture traverse l’Europe. Elle sépare les États membres,
ainsi que ceux qui aspirent à le devenir, en deux grands ensembles’.26
Crépon turns first to delineating what many would call ‘Western Europe’:
D’un côté, la majorité de ces États (presque tous jusqu’au dernier élargisse-
ment de l’Europe à vingt-cinq) se distinguent par le fait que leur relation
avec le reste du monde a pris, à un moment ou à un autre de leur histoire
récente (et parfois, beaucoup plus anciennement), la forme d’une domina-
tion coloniale — qu’ils ont considéré telle ou telle partie de la Terre, proche
ou lointaine, contiguë ou non, comme leur possession. France, Allemagne,
Italie, Espagne, Portugal, Belgique, Pays-Bas, Autriche, tous ont en commun
de porter dans leur histoire, et de garder présentes, les traces de cette appro-
priation. Mieux, cette mémoire (qu’elle soit avouée ou non) est une partie
constitutive de leur identité culturelle. Elle alimente de vieux réflexes quant à
la langue et la culture. Elle a son vocabulaire propre, que la plupart des gou-
vernements utilisent sans réserve: le rayonnement, la mission, l’exemple.27
The lasting legacy of imperialism has left its imprint on ‘Eastern Europe’ in
the opposite sense:
À l’inverse, la plupart des derniers États intégrés à la Communauté (la Pologne,

la République tchèque, les Républiques baltes) et ceux qui aspirent y entrer (la
Bulgarie, la Roumanie) ont une tout autre mémoire de l’empire. À l’exception
de la Turquie (dont l’histoire impériale appartient de plein droit à celle de
l’Europe et qui relève, à ce titre, du premier ensemble), ces États n’ont jamais
été en mesure d’exercer quelque domination coloniale que ce soit. Bien davan-
tage, leur statut fut longtemps celui de minorités à l’intérieur d’un empire
(Empire russe, Empire ottoman, mais aussi, avec un tout autre exercice de l’im-
périalité, Empire austro hongrois). Tandis que les frontières des autres États
membres de l’Union actuelle s’étendaient au-delà des mers, les leurs étaient en
fonction des démembrements et des remembrements de ces puissances.28
When Crépon reminds us that some European countries were in a position

of colonial domination while others suffered from domination, he gives us
318 Alison Rice

a ‘refresher course’ on a European history, both recent and distant, that is 29. Kristeva, Julia Kristeva
carved out in imperial terms. Defining the current configurations of Interviews, p. 4.
Europe in this fashion provides insight into the situation of the writer from 30. Kristeva, Les
Bulgaria or Slovenia who opts to take up both residence in France and the Samouraïs, Paris:
Gallimard, 1990,
pen to write in French. p. 29.
Julia Kristeva remembers that she initially came to Paris thanks to the
31. Kristeva, Julia Kristeva
dream of a French head of state that Europe would take on a more expan- Interviews, p. 4.
sive form:
I left my country in part because Charles de Gaulle dreamed of a Europe that

would stretch from the Atlantic Ocean to the Ural Mountains. His idea suited
me perfectly because the French government was awarding scholarships for
young Eastern European students to study in the West.29
Her autobiographical novel, Les Samouraïs, reveals just how very far away
Kristeva’s homeland seemed to many of the French people, who imagined
the Eastern country to be more exotic and more ideal than it actually was:
Cette curiosité pour ce qui se passait là-bas, les “erreurs staliniennes” impres-
sionnant moins que la “vague de fond”, le “vent d’Est”, comme ils disaient,
qu’ils avaient grande tendance à mythifier. Dangereux naïfs? Ils créaient des
idoles à partir des “origines de la Révolution” ou des “avant-gardes esthé-
tiques”.30
Despite the somewhat positive attention she initially received for her
intriguing origins, Kristeva has occasionally found it ‘painful’ to be a for-
eigner in France over the years:
Although I consider myself to be well assimilated into French culture, I think

that the French people themselves do not find me to be so. They communi-
cate this to me indirectly, yet I am constantly reminded that I come from
somewhere else.31
It is important to note from Kristeva’s experience that even those foreign-

ers who may be able to ‘assimilate’ more quickly and easily in France –
because of marital status, linguistic competence, intellectual acclaim and
even physical appearance – remain relegated to an ‘outside’ that charac-
terizes them as ‘other’.
When Julia Kristeva indicates that she is forever reminded that she is
not native to France, she is identifying, in essence, the crucial paradox fac-
ing the Eastern European francophone writer. This writer is located at
what we might call the ‘fringes of francophonie’, often falling outside the
categorization of ‘francophone’, yet not quite fitting the classification of
‘French’. Indeed, the Eastern European francophone writer is the incarna-
tion of a certain ‘definitional’ dilemma: neither fully recognized as coming
from elsewhere, nor thoroughly accepted as a French writer. In many
ways, Kristeva has escaped the ostracism known to some immigrants; she
quickly gained recognition for her scholarly work and found a position in
the French education system. But the fact that she feels ‘constantly
reminded’ that she is not from France reveals much about her adopted

32. ibid. home and the experience of those from outside: ‘Foreigners must confront
33. Crépon, Altérités de a ghost from the past that remains hidden in a secret part of themselves.’32
l’Europe, p. 77. Marc Crépon argues that appropriately dealing with the various ‘mem-
34. Russell Jacoby, ories of empire’ in Europe is critical. In his view, it is wrong for the former
‘Marginal Returns: colonizer to ‘efface’ these memories; instead, the past should be ‘assumed’
The Trouble With and ‘clarified’:
Post-Colonial Theory’,
Lingua Franca,
September/October Or, au-delà de l’histoire et du récit qu’elles appellent, elles ne pourront l’être que
1995, p. 30. dans la définition nouvelle, inventive (utopique, peut-être) que l’Europe saura
35. Roumiana Deltcheva, donner de sa relation avec ceux qu’elle définit toujours comme ces autres, y
‘Post-Totalitarian compris, et peut-être surtout, à l’intérieur de ses frontières actuelles et à venir.33
Tendencies in
Bulgarian Literature’,
Canadian Review of If we are convinced by Crépon’s reasoning, we might conclude that France
Comparative Literature, is now home to ‘postcolonial subjects’ from its own former colonies as well
22: 3–4, September/
December 1995, as from Eastern Europe. Demonstrating sensitivity to these discordant
p. 855. pasts is essential to creating a harmonious present.
While I have found the writings of critics like Marc Crépon and David
Chioni Moore important to my argument that it is possible to regard
Eastern European countries as postcolonial in numerous respects, I would
like to underscore the potential danger of Moore’s subtitle, ‘Toward a
Global Postcolonial Critique’. It is dubious to extend the definition of an
already ambiguous field of study to include nearly the entire planet, since
at some point in time every culture was dominated by another and could
therefore be considered postcolonial. In this point, I would agree with
Russell Jacoby’s somewhat humorous contention about the widely inclu-
sive nature of postcolonial studies in his article ‘Marginal Returns: The
Trouble with Post-Colonial Theory’. Jacoby takes issue with the expansive
definition of ‘postcolonialism’ in the following remarks:
What’s left out? Very little. In their 1989 study The Empire Writes Back
(Routledge), a founding text for post-colonial theorists, Bill Ashcroft, Gareth
Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin estimate that three quarters of the globe suffered
from colonialism. Here is a new field that claims four centuries and most of
the planet as its domain. Not bad.34
Indeed, a blanket application of the word postcolonial to all countries for-

merly under Soviet control would be a mistake, as such countries suffered
varying degrees of domination, just as did those under French control.
Taking into account such differences in Soviet rule is what Roumiana
Deltcheva advocates in her analysis of the literary process in Bulgaria:
Not all countries of the Eastern block were externally ‘colonized’ to the same
degree. One should qualitatively distinguish between Poland, Hungary,
Czechoslovakia, and East Germany, on the one hand, since they were physi-
cally occupied by Soviet troops throughout their Socialist stage of develop-
ment, and Yugoslavia, Romania, and Bulgaria, on the other, which were not
in a state of Soviet occupation.35
The writers I have already mentioned, from Hungarian native Agota

Kristof to Bulgarian-born Julia Kristeva have known decisively different
320 Alison Rice

situations and these must be acknowledged, but I am convinced that con- 36. For a convincing
ceiving of countries formerly under Soviet communist rule as having some argument on the
importance of
general characteristics in common with countries under French colonial reconsidering Second-
rule can yield productive results. World literature in
It is quite possible that the concentration in literary studies on rela- the domain of the
postcolonial, see
tions between the First and Third Worlds has left a void with respect to the Stephen Slemon,
Second World.36 I believe we can begin to fill this void by studying texts in ‘Unsettling the
French by writers from places formerly under Soviet domination. I would Empire: Resistance
Theory for the Second
like to draw from their insights to explore the extent to which intellectuals World’, World
from small Central and Eastern European countries find themselves in a Literature Written in
postcolonial position – politically and linguistically – similar to that of English, 30: 2, 1990,
pp. 30–41.
francophone scholars and writers from the Maghreb, sub-Saharan Africa
or the Antilles. 37. Many writers from
Eastern Europe elude
the category of
Eastern European francophonie37 ‘francophone’
When Agota Kristof asserts that she had no choice as to the language of despite the general
understanding that
her writing, she is making reference to the hazards of history that make up the term refers to
her personal story. If she had landed in another part of Europe, or even authors writing in
another part of Switzerland, her writing would have taken place in French who are from
outside the hexagonal
another idiom. When Assia Djebar wrestles with her own status as a franco- space that constitutes
phone writer, she maintains that she did not opt for this language contemporary France.
either: ‘Ecrire se fait aujourd’hui, pour moi, dans une langue, au départ, In this essay, I
obviously adhere to
non choisie, dans un écrit français qui a éloigné de fait l’écrit arabe de la this understanding,
langue maternelle’.38 As she examines ‘the voices that besiege her’, Djebar though I think it is a
employs a term that recalls an earlier quotation from Kristof; the voices of problematic label
that deserves
her countrywomen are, in Djebar’s words, ‘voix ennemies du français’.39 reconsideration,
Ces voix qui m’assiègent is a collection of essays that make clear the specific particularly because
challenges faced by a writer whose land and people were literally and sym- of the artificial
distinction it implies
bolically raped and pillaged by the French; such a history can only yield a between writers from
very complicated relationship to the language of that experience. Eastern France and writers
Europeans writing in French do not share directly the problematic past from elsewhere, a
distinction that often
that is inextricable from written expression in the language of the oppressor. becomes blurred
What is significant, however, is that – like Djebar – Kristof and other when the writer from
Eastern European writers are finding in French a language in which to ‘elsewhere’ is from
the European
communicate past violence and domination. continent. David
In a new essay whose title recalls his earlier study Portrait du colonisé, Murphy sheds light
précédé du portrait du colonisateur, Tunisian-born francophone novelist and on the matter in an
essay on francophone
theorist Albert Memmi evokes the dilemma of the ‘decolonized’ writer who postcolonial literature:
publishes in the language of the former colonizer, and brings to light the ‘En effet, même si,
fact that struggle with language is not unique to the decolonized writer: depuis ses débuts,
l’étude de la littérature
dite francophone
This is a drama common to all Francophone writers, who are as terrorized relève d’une attitude
by Paris as non-Parisian writers living in France. Moreover, experiencing a inclusive, les
littératures
vague feeling of betrayal, the decolonized writer will twist and squirm to francophones
apologize. He will claim, for example, that he has appropriated, violated, continuent d’une
destroyed the language of the colonizer, along with other witless comments, manière générale
d’être opposées à la
as if all writers didn’t do the same.40 “littérature française”,
qui recouvre, à
Memmi goes on to assert that the language of the colonizer is ‘the only quelques exceptions
près, les oeuvres
tool he will have mastered and without it he would be reduced to silence’, d’écrivains blancs de

la France a point that might also apply to writers from small countries not formerly
métropolitaine (mais under French domination.41
on permet parfois à de
talentueux européens In anticipation of the summit of the Organisation internationale de la
d’accéder à ce club francophonie, held in Bucharest in September 2006, secretary general
exclusif: je pense Abdou Diouf contributed an article to Le Monde Diplomatique in which he
notamment à Beckett,
à Ionesco et plus brought attention to the growing presence of Eastern European countries
récemment à in his organization. According to Diouf, it is no accident that the newest
Kundera)’, David members of the OIF are from a region formerly under communist rule:
Murphy, ‘À la
recherche d’une
littérature Au Palais de Chaillot, où se déroule la quatrième rencontre des chefs d’Etats
francophone et et de gouvernements francophones, la Roumanie et la Bulgarie sont les pre-
postcoloniale:
réflexions sur les miers Etats d’Europe de l’Est présents en tant que membres observateurs.
enjeux de la compara- Nous sommes en 1991. Pour la première fois, la francophonie accueille alors
ison’, Francophone des Etats européens qui n’ont pas de passé colonial avec l’Afrique. Le fait que
Postcolonial Studies, 4:
2 (Autumn/Winter), ces nouveaux membres sont issus de cette région, qui sort du communisme,
2006, pp. 31–32. As ne doit rien au hasard. Un peu comme l’avaient fait les Etats africains trente
Murphy’s comments ans plus tôt, ces pays s’affranchissent de la tutelle politico-économique des
indicate, writers of
European origin have régimes communistes et intègrent les organisations intergouvernementales
slipped more easily et multilatérales occidentales qui leur étaient jadis interdites.42
into the category of
‘French’ while those
from other ethnicities Throughout his article, Diouf makes it clear that he finds nothing amiss in
have been character- the bringing together of African and Eastern European countries under
ized more readily as the umbrella of francophonie.43 To the contrary, he seems to find this
‘francophone’,
indicating not only regrouping quite natural, and even promising. Joining ‘East’ and ‘South’
the current tendency in this way will destabilize some of the binary divisions that typically priv-
to rely on race but ilege the West: ‘leur arrivée au sein de la francophonie institutionnelle
also recalling a long
history of racial bouleverse les équilibres Nord-Sud’.44 Theorist Étienne Balibar under-
discrimination that scores the importance of disrupting such binary divisions in his reflections
was used at least in on European borders, articulating an argument for a reconsideration of
part to justify French
colonial expansion. ‘Third Worlds’ that have ‘blurred the local question of the partition of the
This particular experi- world’ throughout history:
ence is not shared by
francophone writers
from Eastern Europe; We would have to notice the same figure everywhere: that of a binary divi-
though many of them sion of world space (of the ‘sphere’ or the whole) that is disturbed not so
were – and still are much by the fluctuations of the balance of power between ‘camps’ as by the
today – subjected to
stereotypical presup- intervention of a third, which can be manifested as aggression, resistance, or
positions and certain even a simple ‘passive’ presence that renders the partition invalid.45
forms of xenophobia
as immigrants to
France, Eastern Balibar’s observation – as well as Diouf ’s perspective on Eastern European
Europeans have additions to ‘la francophonie institutionnelle’ – seems to resonate with
not endured discrimi- Moore’s assertion that the discursive line between the ‘East’ and ‘West’ in
nation based on skin
color, nor do they the post-Soviet sphere has stood in the way of solidarity between postcolo-
address race in their nial Europeans and those from other postcolonial regions of the world:
writings as a specific ‘the post-Soviet region’s European peoples may be convinced that some-
aspect of their past
experience under thing radically, even “racially,” differentiates them from the postcolonial
Soviet domination. Filipinos and Ghanaians who might otherwise claim to share their situa-
38. Assia Djebar, Ces voix tion’.46 In my view, adherence to the Organisation internationale de la fran-
qui m’assiègent… en cophonie is a crucial step for what Moore calls the ‘postcolonial-post-Soviet
marge de ma francopho- nations’47 because it allows for productive comparisons between singular
nie, Paris: Albin
Michel, 1999, p. 28. postcolonial situations in a common, unifying language that ultimately
322 Alison Rice

serves as a vehicle for expression beyond the colonial, perhaps even 39. ibid., p. 29.
beyond the postcolonial.48 40. Albert Memmi,
David Chioni Moore insists repeatedly on including contemporary Decolonization and the
Russia in the post-Soviet sphere, since ‘the Soviet Union and its predeces- Decolonized,
Minneapolis:
sor Russian empire were often as lethal to their Russians as to non- University of
Russians, and […] the USSR radically devalued specifically Russian Minnesota Press,
identity for several decades’.49 Russian-born author Andreï Makine has 2006, p. 40.
received considerable acknowledgement for his written production in 41. ibid.
French, his 1995 novel Le testament français winning both the Prix Médicis 42. Abdou Diouf, ‘Les
and the Prix Goncourt.50 In a more recent work of fiction, Requiem pour enjeux européens du
l’Est, Makine takes the reader on a whirlwind visit of the contemporary Sommet de Bucarest’,
Le Monde
world and of Russian history, jumping from one continent to another in Diplomatique,
the present and one generation to another in Russia to make some power- September 2006, p. 1.
ful statements about life in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. This 43. In their editorial
novel deserves special mention because of its evocation of two phenomena, preface to a
the first consisting of the presence of Russia in Africa in the not-so-distant publication that
unites articles
past and the lasting impact of that presence. Two undercover Russian spies exploring the
are given a tour of an unnamed African country, travelling on roads that ‘expanding horizons’
have been torn apart by mines of which the guide says: of French and
francophone studies,
Farid Laroussi and
C’est les Russes qui nous ont trompés. D’abord ils nous ont promis le paradis, Christopher Miller cite
tous les peuples sont frères et tout ça, et puis nous avons vu qu’ils n’y croy- some of the current
factors – ranging
aient pas eux-mêmes. Et maintenant qu’ils sont partis pour toujours, on se from immigration to
tue pour rien.51 developments in the
European Union –
that are exerting an
This passage is important because it reveals that Soviet domination did not influence on how we
occur only in Europe but also in Africa, another factor uniting the two view the word
regions. The guide’s words also indicate that France was not – and is not – ‘francophone’ with
respect to ‘metropoli-
the only pernicious influence in Africa, a continent currently character- tan’ literary studies:
ized by poverty and strife due to a number of complicated factors. ‘These questions of
The second phenomenon that Makine brings up in his novel also con- course run parallel to
social issues in France
cerns Africa, focusing this time on the current differences of interactive itself and in France’s
modes between the ‘North’ and ‘South’: ‘Tout ce qui, au Nord, était mots, relations to its former
conciliabules feutrés, lentes approches d’une personne clef devenait, au colonies and current
Départements d’Outre-
Sud, cris de douleur, sifflement du feu, corps à corps haineux. Comme si Mer and Territoires
une horrible traduction déréglée s’était installée entre ces deux conti- d’Outre-Mer: immigra-
nents’.52 The inadequate translation between these two continents is tion, integration,
nationalism, the
already being addressed and corrected, I would argue, by the very exis- attempt to form a sort
tence of this novel. Written in French by a foreigner to this particular of commonwealth
‘North’, Requiem pour l’Est concentrates on the ‘lost empire’ of the English under the aegis of
francophonie, the rise
translation of its title53 only in order to point beyond that bygone era and of the European
indicate a future of global postcolonial translation into French, a move- Union, and of course
ment in concert with literary critic Robert Jouanny’s conception of fran- globalization. The
core question in our
cophonie as a ‘multidirectional internationalism’.54 In Jouanny’s view, inquiry here is thus:
writing in French presents a way out for many who find themselves at a What has been, what
loss for a tongue in which to express their non-belonging to certain is, and what should
be the relation
dogma: between metropolitan
French literary studies
Si l’attrait du français comme mode d’expression littéraire est loin de se and Francophone
literatures from
démentir, c’est souvent parce que son usage et l’adhésion à la culture qu’il

around the world?’, véhicule sont perçus comme des moyens de défendre une identité ou une
Farid Laroussi and idéologie menacées. Ou bien parce que depuis le pays natal ou la terre d’exil,
Christopher L. Miller,
‘Editor’s Preface: ils apparaissent comme ‘l’autre solution’, celle qui permettra de sortir d’une
French and impasse. D’être davantage soi-même, en quelque sorte, sous un vêtement
Francophone: The d’emprunt.55
Challenge of
Expanding Horizons’,
in Farid Laroussi and For those from small countries whose culture and identity were smothered
Christopher L. Miller by the Soviet Union, the French language offers hope for new birth. Agota
(eds), Yale French
Studies, 103, 2003, Kristof ascertains that nobody knows the number of victims Stalin has on
p. 2. In his recent his conscience. In her country alone, there were thirty thousand deaths in
essay, Cette France 1956. In her assessment, what cannot be counted is just as important as
qu’on oublie d’aimer,
Andreï Makine calls the potentially calculable numbers of those who perished:
for a ‘clear language’
that would eliminate Ce que l’on ne pourra jamais mesurer, c’est le rôle néfaste qu’a exercé la dic-
the racist words he
hears regularly in his tature sur la philosophie, l’art et la littérature des pays de l’Est. En leur
adopted land, using imposant son idéologie, l’Union soviétique n’a pas seulement empêché le
terms that recall développement économique de ces pays, mais elle a essayé aussi d’étouffer
Benedict Anderson’s
conception of the leur culture et leur identité nationales.56
nation as an
imaginary For a fellow Hungarian-born francophone writer named Eva Almassy,
community; it is just
such a notion of gaining a new national identity meant giving up her earlier one:
nation that Makine
contends is needed Je n’ai pas d’autre nationalité, pas la double nationalité, pas d’autre passe-
today to unite the dif-
ferent inhabitants of a port. La Hongrie, c’était la mère-patrie, je suis orpheline de mère, de père, de
multiracial France: patrie. Je suis française sur le papier: les papiers officiels et les pages de mes
‘Oui, des mots clairs livres.57
pour dire qu’il ne peut
y avoir qu’une seule
communauté en The location of her political asylum is now the sole source of her identity,
France: la at least in official terms. But the fact that her papers are so intimately tied
communauté
nationale. Celle qui
to her books means that the language is at least as important, if not more
nous unit tous, sans so, than the country of residence.
distinction d’origine et Although they are generally optimistic, francophone Eastern
de race’, Andreï
Makine, Cette France
European writers are lucid about current challenges in France. Andreï
qu’on oublie d’aimer, Makine has often praised the French language and the culture it vehicles,
Paris: Éditions but in recent remarks he has called attention to the fact that French can
Flammarion, 2006,
pp. 105–06.
also communicate in ways reminiscent of the ‘double language’ he
observed in his Russian mother tongue when he was a young man in the
44. Diouf, ‘Les enjeux
européens du Sommet
Soviet Union:
de Bucarest’, p. 2.
La formulation est volontairement polémique. C’est ce ton-là qui, à mon
45. Étienne Balibar, ‘The
Borders of Europe’, arrivée en France, m’a aidé à saisir la réalité des choses derrière les panneaux
James Swenson publicitaires de la propagande: la France des ‘potes’, des ‘black-blanc-beur’,
(trans.), in Pheng
du multiculturalisme et d’autres impostures idéologiques. D’ailleurs le
Cheah and Bruce
Robbins (eds), décalage entre le discours officiel et les commentaires que les Français
Cosmopolitics: Thinking osaient en privé me rappelait la situation dans ma patrie soviétique. Le même
and Feeling beyond the
double langage, la même schizophrénie collective. Sauf que cela se passait
Nation, Minneapolis:
University of dans le pays de Voltaire!58
Minnesota Press,
1998, p. 221.
This sobering commentary alerts readers to the present political ‘reality’
in France, a reality that all writers of French must wrestle with as they
324 Alison Rice

seek the right words to offset ‘official discourse’ and more accurately 46. Moore, ‘Is the Post- in
depict the wide-ranging, international ‘multiculturalism’ that character- Postcolonial the
Post- in Post-Soviet?’
izes the growing numbers of diverse writers creating contemporary litera- p. 117. In his
ture in French. exploration of the
Milan Kundera has titled the second part of a recent book publication term ‘francophone’
and its connotations,
‘Weltliteratur’, harking back to Goethe’s famously coined term and speak- Nicholas Harrison
ing out in favour of an opening up to the ‘grand contexte’ of global litera- ascertains – in
ture rather than a continuing focus on the ‘petit contexte’ of national remarks similar to
those found in David
literary production. The title of his book sets the tone for his reflections, for Murphy’s article
Le Rideau reminds readers of Kundera’s own national history and the rea- quoted above – that
sons behind his advocacy of an international exchange of ideas rather this label is not
applied in the same
than a concentration on particular writing from within borders. This way to authors from
desire for international exchange undoubtedly stems from the situation Europe as it is to
Kundera observed from ‘within’ the Soviet empire, so to speak, for it turns authors from former
colonies. The critic
out that very little – if any – communication took place between different points out that
entities under Soviet occupation, as Caryl Emerson explains: because of this
dichotomy, the use of
the word
In 1984, far before anyone suspected the end, Milan Kundera wrote a bitter ‘francophone’ imme-
essay on the tragedy of Central Europe, a region distinguished, he said, by diately creates ‘racial’
the ‘greatest variety within the smallest space,’ swallowed and flattened by and ‘ethnic-cultural’
expectations: ‘Indeed,
Soviet Russia, whose ideal was ‘the smallest variety in the greatest space.’ this use of “francoph-
After the collapse of the Soviet system and the liberations of 1989, some of one”, a term that
the consequences of this flattening for comparative literature studies became might appear to mean
French-speaking, to
clear. It was discovered, for example, that Moscow’s policy toward her refer to writers of
colonies both east and west had been to translate as much as possible from French (from) outside
their ‘native writers’ into imperial Russian—but not to sponsor collateral France, but not all of
them, is coded in such
translations among the satellite states themselves—say, Bulgarian into a way as to imply this
Kazakh, Latvian into Hungarian, Polish into Slovak. 59 distinction of critical
practice, and is all
about the different
Given these insights into the lack of pre-existing comparative studies in the ways in which critics
post-Soviet sphere, the postcolonial francophone studies I propose here attach writers to
would bring to the same page authors and works from Eastern Europe that different ethnic-
cultural “groups”.
have not previously been analyzed together. While authors such as
In Le Rideau, a text that is at once theoretical and highly personal, the Ionesco or Beckett –
Czech-born author recalls visiting a French overseas territory shortly after and even Camus –
have generally been
his emigration in 1975: studied on “French”
literature courses
Quelques mois après avoir quitté à jamais mon petit pays kidnappé, je me without much atten-
tion to their
suis retrouvé à la Martinique. Peut-être, pour quelque temps, voulais-je non-French origins,
oublier ma condition d’émigré. Mais c’était impossible: hypersensible comme then, the North
je l’étais au destin des petits pays, là-bas tout m’a rappelé ma Bohême ; d’au- African novel, like
other “postcolonial”
tant plus que ma rencontre avec la Martinique a eu lieu au moment où sa texts, has been tied
culture était passionnément en quête de sa propre personnalité’.60 academically to its
notional “place of
origin” […] The
While he found many common attributes between his Bohemia and the notion of the
Caribbean island, Kundera put his finger on a crucial difference that char- “francophone author”
acterized Martinique: ‘l’oubli fondamental et fondateur’.61 This forgetting or of the “postcolonial
novelist” thus
gave way to creative works by such writers as Aimé Césaire and Patrick designates a certain
Chamoiseau that made waves, in Kundera’s opinion, far beyond the shores
of their land, extending to the entire world as Weltliteratur.

“author-function”, to Kundera turns from the island to the continent in order to ask the ques-
use the term offered tion, ‘who are we’ in the context of ‘une Europe oubliée’, ‘a forgotten
by Foucault in his
famous essay “What Europe’. He points out that much time has passed since the eighteenth cen-
is an author?”: partic- tury, when comparisons could be made between politics, literature and art.
ular aspects of the
author’s real or imag-
ined biography, in this Difficile d’imaginer que, il y a trente ans, quelqu’un ait écrit (par exemple): la
instance including décolonisation, la critique de la technique de Heidegger et les films de Fellini
notably “race” or incarnent les plus grandes tendances de notre époque. Cette façon de penser
national origins, are
seen by the reader as ne répondait plus à l’esprit du temps.62
pertinent to the text,
and as providing a Kundera goes on in the following sentence to assert that today, no one
legitimate or even
crucial means of mak- would accord the same importance to a cultural work and the disappear-
ing sense of it”’, ance of communism in Europe. The proximity of his reflections on decolo-
Nicholas Harrison, nization and the disappearance of communism bolster my belief that we
Postcolonial Criticism:
History, Theory and the can take up David Chioni Moore’s invitation to consider Eastern European
Work of Fiction, countries as ‘postcolonial-post-Soviet’ and consider the aftermath of Soviet
Cambridge: Polity domination in Europe as having much in common with that of French
Press, 2003, p. 104.
colonial domination in other parts of the globe. But I would like to suggest
47. Moore, ‘Is the Post- in that this reconsideration of Eastern Europe as postcolonial serve only as a
Postcolonial the Post-
in Post-Soviet?’ p. 123. step that will ultimately inspire us to quicken our pace, in order to match
‘l’esprit du temps’ in a positive sense that seeks to move outside the limits
48. What I have in mind
is comparative study of the postcolonial and look towards the potential for new francophone
in line with the intel- translations in a global literary setting that, in accordance with the ideas
lectual undertakings expressed by Pascale Casanova and Milan Kundera, make an impact that
championed by
Françoise Lionnet and resonates beyond borders.
her University of
California colleagues References
in their working Almassy, Eva (2006), ‘Exil en hongrois se dit számüzetés’, in De la mémoire du réel
group on
Transnational and à la mémoire de la langue: Réel, Fiction, Langage, Paris: Éditions Cécile Defaut,
Transcolonial Studies: pp. 37–52.
‘A transversal Anderson, Benedict (1991), Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and
comparative approach Spread of Nationalism, New York: Verso Books.
that allows us to link
the cultures of decolo- Appiah, Kwame Anthony (1991), ‘Is the Post- in Postmodernism the Post- in
nization, immigration, Postcolonialism?’ Critical Inquiry, 17: 2 (Winter), pp. 336–57.
and globalization
within a conceptual Ashcroft, Bill, Griffiths, Gareth and Tiffin, Helen (1989), The Empire Writes Back:
framework that seeks Theory and Practice in Post-colonial Literatures, London: Routledge.
common Balibar, Étienne (1998), ‘The Borders of Europe’, James Swenson (trans.), in Pheng
denominators—while
Cheah and Bruce Robbins (eds), Cosmopolitics: Thinking and Feeling beyond the
remaining suspicious
of simplistic Nation, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, pp. 216–29.
generalizations—can Casanova, Pascale (1999), La République mondiale des lettres, Paris: Seuil.
help us go a long way
toward a rethinking Crépon, Marc (2006), Altérités de l’Europe, Paris: Galilée.
of the place and Deltcheva, Roumiana (1995), ‘Post-Totalitarian Tendencies in Bulgarian Literature’,
nature of theoretical Canadian Review of Comparative Literature, 22: 3–4 (September/December),
investigation within
our discipline’, pp. 853–65.
Françoise Lionnet, Diouf, Abdou (2006), ‘Les enjeux européens du Sommet de Bucarest’, Le Monde
‘Cultivating Mere Diplomatique, September, pp. 1–2.
Gardens? Comparative
Francophonies, Djebar, Assia (1999), Ces voix qui m’assiègent… en marge de ma francophonie, Paris:
Postcolonial Studies, Albin Michel.
and Transnational
Feminisms’, in Haun Damrosch, David (2003), What is World Literature? Princeton: Princeton University
Press.
326 Alison Rice

Emerson, Caryl (2006), ‘Answering for Central and Eastern Europe’, in Haun Saussy (ed.),
Saussy (ed.), Comparative Literature in an Age of Globalization, Baltimore: The Comparative Literature
Johns Hopkins University Press, pp. 203–11. in An Age of
Globalization,
Gunew, Sneja (1995), ‘“Hauntings by Otherness”: Theory’s Home, Post-Colonial Baltimore: The Johns
Displacements, and the Future of Comparative Literature’, Canadian Review of Hopkins University
Comparative Literature, 22: 3–4 (September/December), pp. 399–407. Press, 2006, p. 105.
Harrison, Nicholas (2003), Postcolonial Criticism: History, Theory and the Work of 49. Moore, ‘Is the Post- in
Fiction, Cambridge: Polity Press. Postcolonial the Post-
in Post-Soviet?’ p. 123.
Jacoby, Russell (1995), ‘Marginal Returns: The Trouble with Post-Colonial Theory’,
Lingua Franca, (September/October), pp. 30–37. 50. Andreï Makine, Le
Testament français.
Jouanny, Robert (2005), ‘Écrire en français: un choix ?’ Interculturel Francophonies. Paris: Mercure de
Écrivains Francophones d’Europe, 7: (June–July), pp. 9–17. France, 1995.
Kristeva, Julia (1990), Les Samouraïs, Paris: Gallimard. 51. Andreï Makine,
—— (1996), Julia Kristeva Interviews, New York: Columbia University Press. Requiem pour l’Est,
Paris: Gallimard,
—— (2001), Micropolitique, ‘Première édition’ mercredi 8h25 (2000 –2001), Paris: 2001, p. 104.
Éditions de l’Aube.
52. ibid., p. 106.
—— (2006), ‘L’autre langue ou la condition d’être en vie’, http://www.kristeva.fr/
53. Andreï Makine,
1565.html?*session*id*key*=*session*id*val*. Requiem for a Lost
Accessed 15 October 2006. Empire, Geoffrey
Kristof, Agota (2004), L’analphabète, Geneva: Éditions Zoé. Strachan (trans.),
New York:
Kundera, Milan (2005), Le Rideau, Paris: Gallimard. Washington Square
Laroussi, Farid, and Miller, Christopher L. (2003), ‘Editor’s Preface: French and Press, 2003.
Francophone: The Challenge of Expanding Horizons’, in Farid Laroussi 54. Robert Jouanny,
and Christopher L. Miller (eds), Yale French Studies, 103, pp. 1–6. ‘Écrire en français: un
choix?’ Interculturel
Lionnet, Françoise (2006), ‘Cultivating Mere Gardens? Comparative Francophonies, Francophonies,
Postcolonial Studies, and Transnational Feminisms’, in Haun Saussy (ed.), Écrivains Francophones
Comparative Literature in An Age of Globalization, Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins d’Europe, 7, June/July
University Press, pp. 100–13. 2005, p. 10.
Makine, Andreï (1995), Le Testament français, Paris: Mercure de France. 55. ibid.
—— (2001), Requiem pour l’Est, Paris: Gallimard. 56. Kristof, L’Analphabète,
—— (2003), Requiem for a Lost Empire (trans. Geoffrey Strachan), New York: pp. 27–28.
Washington Square Press. 57. Eva Almassy, ‘Exil en
—— (2006), Cette France qu’on oublie d’aimer, Paris: Éditions Flammarion. hongrois se dit
számüzetés’, De la
Memmi, Albert (2004), Portrait du décolonisé: arabo-musulman et de quelques autres. mémoire du réel à la
Paris: Gallimard. mémoire de la langue:
Réel, Fiction, Langage,
—— (2006), Decolonization and the Decolonized (trans. Robert Bononno), Minneapolis: Paris: Éditions Cécile
University of Minnesota Press. Defaut, 2006, p. 39.
Moore, David Chioni (2001), ‘Is the Post- in Postcolonial the Post- in Post-Soviet? 58. Andreï Makine, Cette
Toward a Global Postcolonial Critique’, PMLA, 116: 1 (January), pp. 111–28. France qu’on oublie
Murphy, David (2006), ‘À la recherché d’une littérature francophone et postcolo- d’aimer, 2006, p. 72.
niale: réflexions sur les enjeux de la comparaison’, Francophone Postcolonial 59. Caryl Emerson,
Studies, 4: 2 (Autumn/Winter), pp. 28–41. ‘Answering for Central
and Eastern Europe’,
Rosello, Mireille (2003), ‘Unhoming Francophone Studies: A House in the Middle in Haun Saussy (ed.),
of the Current’, in Farid Laroussi and Christopher L. Miller (eds), Yale French Comparative Literature
Studies, 103, pp. 123–32. in an Age of
Globalization,
Slemon, Stephen (1990), ‘Unsettling the Empire: Resistance Theory for the Second Baltimore: The Johns
World’, World Literature Written in English, 30: 2, pp. 30–41. Hopkins University
Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty (2003), The Death of a Discipline, New York: Columbia Press, 2006, p. 204.
University Press.

60. Milan Kundera, Svit, Brina (2003), Moreno, Paris: Gallimard.

Le Rideau, Paris:
Gallimard, 2005,
Tötösy de Zepetnek, Steven (1995), ‘Post-Colonialities: The “Other,” the System,
p. 184. and a Personal Perspective, or This (Too) is Comparative Literature’, Canadian
Review of Comparative Literature 22: 3–4 (September/December), pp. 399–407.
61. ibid., p. 186.
62. ibid., p. 187. Suggested citation
Rice, A. (2007), ‘Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe’, International
Journal of Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 313–328, doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.313/1
Contributor details
Alison Rice teaches twentieth- and twenty-first-century French and francophone
literature at the University of Notre Dame. Her current research project,
‘Metronomes: A Series of Filmed Interviews’, focuses on francophone women writ-
ers from around the world. She received the 2002 Florence Howe Award for
Feminist Scholarship for her article, ‘The Improper Name: Ownership and
Authorship in the Literary Production of Assia Djebar’. Her recent book, Time
Signatures: Contextualizing Contemporary Francophone Autobiographical Writing from
the Maghreb, published by Lexington Books in 2006, closely examines the work of
Hélène Cixous, Assia Djebar and Abdelkébir Khatibi. Contact: Alison Rice,
Department of Romance Languages and Literatures, University of Notre Dame,
343 O’Shaughnessy Hall, Notre Dame, IN 46556, USA.
E-mail: arice1@nd.edu
328 Alison Rice

IJFS_10.3_03_art_Jenson.qxd 11/6/07 4:17 PM Page 329

Before Malcolm X, Dessalines: a ‘French’

tradition of black Atlantic radicalism
Deborah Jenson University of Wisconsin-Madison
Abstract Keywords
This article explores the anticolonial and postcolonial thought of Haitian revolu- black Atlantic
tionary leader Jean-Jacques Dessalines. Dessalines, like Malcolm X, whom Cornel Bois Caïman
West calls a ‘prophet of Black rage’, is part of a black Atlantic radical tradition. decolonization
Dessaline’s secretary Louis-Félix Boisrond Tonnerre has often been viewed as the Jean-Jacques
‘author’ of some of Dessalines’ documents, including the Haitian Declaration of Dessalines
Independence, but I argue that Dessalines’ voice remains distinctive and that he journalism
and his secretaries should be viewed as authorial teams. Dessalines’ vision is syn- manifesto
cretic, incorporating African diasporan views of the spiritual world and nature postcolonial theory
into his decisively anticolonial political ideology. These texts challenge the anglo- the Haitian Revolution
phone identity of the black Atlantic, and invite reconsideration of the diverse
‘beginnings’ of the postcolonial.
Résumé
La pensée anticoloniale et postcoloniale de Jean-Jacques Dessalines, chef de la
Révolution haïtienne et premier empereur d’Haïti, est considérée ici vis-à-vis de la
tradition de l’Atlantique noir formulée par Gilroy, et surtout par rapport à
Malcolm X en tant que ‘prophète colérique’ de l’Atlantique noir. Malgré le statut
‘d’auteur’ de la déclaration de l’indépendance haïtienne souvent conféré au
secrétaire Boisrond Tonnerre, la pluralité des documents produits par Dessalines
en conjonction avec plusieurs secrétaires laissent entendre une voix distincte.
L’idéologie anticoloniale de Dessalines incorpore de façon syncrétique des traces
d’interprétations africaines du monde spirituel et de la nature. Ces proclamations
et manifestes mettent en question l’identité anglophone de l’Atlantique noir et
nous invitent à interroger les diverses ‘commencements’ du postcolonial.
Nous avons osé être libres sans l’être, par nous-mêmes et pour nous-mêmes.
– Jean-Jacques Dessalines, Declaration of Independence, 1 January 1804
[…] which powers never concede to people like us who are the authors of
their own liberty […].
– Jean-Jacques Dessalines, Acceptance of his nomination as Emperor, 15 February 1804
Postcolonial history in theory and postcolonial theory in history

Since the eclipse of a certain form of late twentieth-century postcolonial
theory in which, as Frederick Cooper summarizes, there was at times
a ‘double occlusion’ resulting from ‘turning the centuries of European

1. Frederick Cooper, colonization overseas into a critique of the Enlightenment, democracy, or

‘Postcolonial Studies modernity’,1 there have been numerous reconsiderations of the relation-
and the Study of
History’, in Ania ship of postcolonialism to history. For Cooper, such reconsiderations have
Loomba, Suvir Kaul, the potential to reveal both ‘the specificity of colonial situations’ and ‘the
Matti Bunzl, importance of struggles in colonies, in metropoles, and between the two’.2
Antoinette Burton
and Jed Esty (eds), For Ella Shohat, who queried ‘When, exactly, does the “postcolonial” begin?’3
Postcolonial Studies in 1992, exploration of these temporal parameters highlights not only the
and Beyond, Durham, forgotten continuity of postcolonial and Third World studies, it also
North Carolina: Duke
University Press, prompts further productive questions of the politics of any single historical
2005, p. 403. framework: ‘Which region is privileged in such a beginning? What are the
2. ibid., p. 401. relationships between these diverse beginnings?’4 The insufficiently theo-
rized beginnings of the postcolonial may conceal insights, Shohat suggests,
3. Ella Shohat, Taboo
Memories, Diasporic into why the notion of the postcolonial ‘does not lend itself to geopolitical
Voices, Durham, critique’5 in the context of contemporary conflicts such as the Gulf War
North Carolina: Duke and the Iraq War. In this article, I will be engaging not so much with how
UP, 2006, p. 238.
The essay ‘Notes on to theorize postcolonial history, as with how to situate postcolonial theory
the “Postcolonial”’ in history – how to expand the domain of postcolonial theory and its
was initially twentieth-century black Atlantic canon, which includes Aimé Césaire and
published in Social
Text, 31–32 (Spring Frantz Fanon, to include earlier ‘theorists’ from an earlier ‘beginning’ of the
1992), pp. 99–113. postcolonial. The Haitian revolutionary leader Jean-Jacques Dessalines,
4. ibid., p. 238. I will propose, left textual traces of anticolonial philosophy not just in early
nineteenth-century post-revolutionary practice, but ‘in theory’. These ‘theo-
5. ibid., p. 233.
retical’ antecedents help to articulate the politics of the postcolonial, and
6. Paul Gilroy, The Black they also expand the conventional chronological and linguistic boundaries
Atlantic: Modernity
and Double
of black Atlantic radicalism.
Consciousness, Paul Gilroy’s paradigm of the black Atlantic was inspired by the failure
Cambridge, MA: of nationalist paradigms when ‘confronted by the intercultural and transna-
Harvard University
Press, 1993, p. 1.
tional formation’ of black participation in ‘abstract modernity’.6 Curiously,
however, the construct of the black Atlantic remains documented predomi-
7. ibid., p. 10.
nantly with anglophone materials, particularly with regard to pre-twentieth
century modernity. Since languages tend to function as extensions of
national(ist) paradigms, this creates an implicit national and imperial
frame for an explicitly transnational concept. ‘England and Englishness’7
are deconstructed by black history in Gilroy’s research, but ‘English’ – in
the Caribbean, the United States, Africa and Britain – remains uncontested
as the language in which black history is represented. From Crispus
Attucks to Olaudah Equiano, Denmark Vesey to William Cuffay, Robert
Wedderburn to Frederick Douglass, Marcus Garvey to Claude McKay and
Teddy Riley to Funki Dreds, the black Atlantic is anglophone, even when
the English in question is a second language. The travels or exile of Martin
Delaney, W.E.B. DuBois, Nella Larsen, Richard Wright and Quincy Jones
in Liberia, Haiti, Denmark, Paris and Sweden also reach us in English
form. Gilroy’s work frequently refers to black Atlantic writings ‘about’ the
Haitian Revolution, but not ‘from’ the Haitian Revolution. This monolingual
casting of the transnational research net excludes most direct representa-
tions of the Haitian Revolution, which was by any measure a major black
Atlantic contribution to abstract modernity.
It also overlooks the dimension of nearly simultaneous anglophone
translation of important Haitian revolutionary texts, since major procla-
mations frequently were published in English in US media at close to the
330 Deborah Jenson

time of their original composition, as part of the Haitian leadership’s 8. Letter cited by
appeal to a public beyond the (post) metropole. For example, one of H. Pauléus Sannon in
Histoire de Toussaint
Dessalines’ secretaries, B. Aimé, appealed in 1803 to the editor of Poulson’s Louverture, 3 vols.,
Daily Advertiser to publish a proclamation on behalf of the newly freed Port-au-Prince:
inhabitants of Saint-Domingue, in the spirit of (transnational) Republican Imprimerie A. A.
Héraux, 1920, vol. 1,
impartiality: p. 203.
9. Laurent Dubois, A
Monsieur, Colony of Citizens:
Vous êtes invité, au nom des hommes libres de St-Domingue, et plus encore au Revolution and Slave
nom de l’impartialité qui doit caractériser tout bon républicain, d’insérer dans Emancipation in the
French Caribbean,
votre prochain numéro la proclamation incluse. Vous obligerez infiniment 1787–1804, Chapel
Votre très humble Hill, North Carolina:
B. Aimé North Carolina
University Press,
Secrétaire8 2004, p. 3.
Without taking into account Haitian revolutionary ‘theorizations’ of an

early nineteenth-century ‘beginning’ of the postcolonial, it is difficult to
fully consider Laurent Dubois’ provocative recontextualization of the
Enlightenment as an ideology both illuminated and refashioned by slaves
or former slaves and their political battles in the Revolutionary Caribbean.
The enslaved revolutionaries challenged the racialized colonial system of the

day, deploying the language of republican rights and the promise of individ-
ual liberty against a social order based on the denial of their humanity. In
winning back the natural rights the Enlightenment claimed as the birthright
to all people, however, the formerly enslaved laid bare a profound tension
within the ideology of rights they had made their own.9
Since postcolonial theory originally emerged partly as a contestation of

Enlightenment humanism as a paradoxical frame for imperialist modernity,
it is especially congruent with the ongoing development of postcolonial
studies to integrate voices from a late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-
century interrogation of the politics of universalism.
The limited universalism of the French Revolutionary ‘Rights of Man’
was challenged in the Haitian Revolution. In 1804, French colonial power
in Saint-Domingue was overthrown not by colonists, as in the American
Revolution, or by the colonized, as in Algeria, but by the slaves of colonists.
Yet the most celebrated Haitian revolutionary leader, Toussaint
Louverture, viewed the colony as indissociable from republic, and revolution,
whether in France or Saint-Domingue, as a republican product. Or at least,
historians such as C.L.R. James have gathered as much from the political
values that he reflected back to the French. There is considerable evidence
to temper this non-independence model, including Toussaint’s practical
inability to tolerate the colonial authorities sent to Revolutionary Saint-
Domingue, from the abolitionist Léger-Félicité Sonthonax to the racist Count
of Hédouville, and also his tacit encouragement of anglophone powers
in their conviction that he was simply awaiting the right moment to declare
independence from France. Nevertheless, in his own writings, Toussaint
had not fundamentally targeted the colony as an unacceptable political and
economic organization the way that he had targeted slavery as an
Before Malcolm X, Dessalines: a ‘French’ tradition of black Atlantic radicalism 331

10. Michel-Rolphe unacceptable practice. Toussaint’s fellow general Henri Christophe became
Trouillot, ‘The Three known under his own later rule for his long-standing competitive parody of
Faces of Sans Souci’,
Silencing the Past, the French monarchy, replete with dukes and duchesses of Lemonade and
Boston: Beacon Press, Marmelade, so he seems even less likely to serve as a catalyst for a general
1995, pp. 31–69. epistemological challenge to colonialism. Alexandre Petion, who ruled in the
11. The Journal des Débats South while Christophe ruled in the North, initially had participated in the
published what it Napoleonic military expedition ‘against’ the blacks, and only defected from
called ‘l’extrait d’une
proclamation qui fut the colonial army after the kidnapping of Toussaint, so he is a similarly
publiée par unlikely source of general anticolonial ideology. Michel-Rolph Trouillot, in
Dessalines, le 28 avril Silencing the Past, draws our attention to the importance of maroon and
dernier’, on 7 August
1804. The Journal did bossale leaders of pre-Independence insurrections, who may have been more
not specify the source radical in their challenges to colonialism than the Haitian generals and
of the original French leaders affiliated with the French military, but they left virtually no textual
publication, and the
extract given is traces.10
derived from an Unlike other Haitian revolutionary leaders, Dessalines, the first ruler
American newspaper, of Independent Hayti, from 1804 to his assassination in 1806, explicitly
documented only
with the following contextualized himself as radically anticolonial. In his famous ‘I have
reference: ‘Nouvelles avenged America’ manifesto, dated 28 April 1804, and first published
étrangères, Etats-Unis in English in the United States in June of 1804, prior to being published
d’Amérique, New
Yorck [sic] 18 juin.’ in France on 7 August 1804,11 Dessalines stated:
The French version is
somewhat A little unlike him who has preceded me, the ex-general Toussaint
abbreviated in
comparison with Louverture, I have been faithful to the promise which I made to you when
American versions. I took up arms against tyranny, and whilst the last spark of life remains in
12. Jean-Jacques me I shall keep my oath. Never again shall a colonist or a European set his foot
Dessalines, upon this territory with the title of master or proprietor. [original emphasis]
Declaration of
Independence, New York Commercial Advertiser, 4 June 1804
1 janvier 1804,
Archives nationales, He went on to contextualize this anticolonial axiom, this rejection not just
AF III 210. The
Archives nationales of slavery but of colonial or European mastery and ownership, as ‘the fun-
manuscript of the damental basis of our constitution’. In the Declaration of Independence,
declaration differs in Dessalines had cautioned that it was not enough to have expelled the fac-
small ways from the
conventionally cited tions ‘qui se jouaient tour à tour du fantômme [sic] de liberté que la France
version, from exposait à vos yeux, il faut par un dernier acte d’autorité nationale, assurer
Thomas Madiou’s à jamais l’empire de la liberté […]’.12 The ghostly liberty of the French
Histoire d’Haïti.
Revolution would be replaced by liberty’s anticolonial empire in Haiti.
13. Benjamin Constant, Dessalines’ vivid anticolonial poetics would inspire horror in the minds
Journaux intimes, A
Roulin and C. Roth of many western observers. The French political theorist Benjamin Constant,
(eds), Paris: after reading the proclamation cited above, reflected, ‘Il y a quelque chose
Gallimard, 1952, de sauvage dans ce style nègre, qui saisit d’une particulière terreur nous
p. 123.
autres, accoutumés aux formes et à l’hypocrisie de l’état social.’13 In many
14. Cornel West, ways, Dessalines served as an early, non-anglophone, ‘prophet of black
‘Malcolm X and
Black Rage’, in Joe rage’, to quote Cornel West in his portrait of Malcolm X: ‘His profound
Wood (ed,), Malcolm commitment to black humanity at any cost and his tremendous courage
X in Our Own Image, to accent the hypocrisy of American society made Malcolm X the prophet
New York: St.
Martin’s Press, of black rage – then and now.’14
1992, p. 48.
The ex-slave leader as political ‘author’
Can we really use the illiterate Dessalines’ proclamations and correspondence
as bona fide texts attesting to a radical black Atlantic intellectual tradition?
332 Deborah Jenson

What about the frequently cited caveat that Dessalines’ transcribed procla- 15. On Toussaint
mations, notably the Declaration of Independence, were actually written Louverture’s writing
and literacy, see
by his secretary, Louis-Félix Boisrond Tonnerre? Deborah Jenson,
Texts mediated by dictation, transcription, editing and translation, are ‘Toussaint
endemic to the field of political writings, as well as to specifically black Louverture, Spin
Doctor? Launching
Atlantic genres such as the slave narrative. Textual mediation stands out the Haitian
as an obvious factor in relation to documents produced by former slaves, Revolution in the
who were often either illiterate or partly and idiosyncratically literate, like French Media’, in
Doris Garraway (ed.),
Toussaint Louverture.15 Yet we do not dismiss correspondence by Napoleon Tree of Liberty:
Bonaparte or General Leclerc because it was transcribed by secretaries. Cultural Legacies of the
I will show in the textual analyses that follow that there are particular Haitian Revolution in
the Atlantic World,
reasons to confirm the readability of Dessalines’ authorial voice in his Charlottesville, VA:
Independence documents. His proclamations were transcribed not only Virginia University
by Boisrond Tonnerre, but also by Juste Chanlatte and other anonymous Press, forthcoming
2008.
secretaries. If their role was predominant, one might expect to see several
distinct conceptual and rhetorical faces of the writings attributed to 16. See Boisrond
Tonnerre, Mémoires
Dessalines. Yet all the documents in which Dessalines theorizes Haitian pour servir à l’histoire
freedom and political autonomy share a clear pattern of ferociously anti- d’Haïti, Port-au-
colonial position statements and an exhortatory rhetoric divided between Prince, Haiti: Editions
Fardin, 1852.
heroic exultation and bitterly vengeful warnings. Symbolism concerning
nature and magical powers, and a concern with the fate of slave commu- 17. See Juste Chanlatte et
Bouvet de Cresset,
nities in other colonies, are also prominent. Histoire de la
Dessalines’ early proclamations are such remarkable speech acts that catastrophe de Saint-
they prod us to recognize that even if Boisrond Tonnerre and Chanlatte Domingue, Paris:
Librairie de Peytieux,
were on some level co-authors, there is no reason to devalorize hybrid 1824.
authorial productivity between an illiterate ex-slave leader and other
18. See Juste Chanlatte
more privileged blacks who had more access to education and were also L’Entrée du roi en sa
important political figures. Boisrond Tonnerre was a black Atlantic capitale is
author of very significant merit in his own right, and although his secre- anthologized in Jean-
Claude Bajeux,
tarial role should not disqualify Dessalines as a political voice, it should Mosochwazi pawòl ki
draw attention to his own literary legacies. Before his assassination at an ekri an kreyòl ayisyen
early age in 1806, Boisrond Tonnerre wrote a memoir that also serves as (Anthologie de la
littérature créole
a history of the Haitian Revolution.16 Like Toussaint Louverture’s mem- haïtienne),
oir, this text constitutes an urgent reclamation of narrative political Port-au-Prince, Haïti:
power and identity. Boisrond Tonnerre, like Dessalines, was a radical Editions Antilia,
1999.
voice. Chanlatte was an author of the 1824 Histoire de la Catastrophe de
Saint-Domingue,17 as well as of the first Creole play of the Independence 19. Aimé Césaire, La
Tragédie du roi
era.18 The fact that the voices of general and secretaries are forever inter- Christophe, Paris:
woven in Independence documents does not lessen their importance. In Présence Africaine,
effect, Dessalines’ textual legacy serves as a reminder that western cate- 1963, p. 23.
gories of authorship exclude slaves by default. The cult of original authorial
voice, deployed through the individual’s published writing, leaves little
room to recognize the mediated speech acts of those who have been
barred from education in the segregated worlds of ‘creolization’, in which,
as Césaire notes in La Tragédie du roi Christophe, a ‘peuple de transplantés’
must ‘naître à lui-même’.19
The politics of the proclamation

Dessalines’ texts are characterized by an acute awareness of the psycho-
logical impact and manipulative potential of political proclamations; their

20. Jean-Jacques power is a frequent subject of his own proclamations. In the Declaration
Dessalines, of Independence, Dessalines condemns ‘notre crédulité et notre indul-
‘Proclamation ou
sommation faite au gence, vaincu non par les armées françaises, mais par la piteuse éloquence
Général qui des proclamations de leurs agens’. In other documents, Dessalines shows a
commandait à Santo similar preoccupation with the effects of French writings on the colonized.
Domingo,’ 8 février
1804, copied in the In a 8 May 1804 proclamation issued to the inhabitants of neighbouring
Notes historiques de Santo Domingo (the Dominican Republic), which he hoped to govern,
Moreau de Saint-Méry, Dessalines, working with the Secretary- General Chanlatte, first warned
Archives d’Outremer,
F3, vol. 141, against ‘seduction’ by the writings of French officers who were attempting
pp. 549–53. to gain a foothold there:
21. M.-E. Descourtilz,
Voyages d’un Déjà je m’applaudissais du succès de mes soins, qui ne tendaient qu’à
naturaliste à Saint- prévenir l’effusion du sang; mais un prêtre fanatique n’avait pas encore souf-
Domingue, 3 vols.,
Paris: Dufart, 1809, flé dans votre âme la rage qui le domine; mais l’insensé Ferrand n’avait pas
vol. 3, p. 281. encore distillé parmi vous les poisons du mensonge et de la calomnie. Des
écrits enfantés par le désespoir et la faiblesse ont circulé aussi plusieurs d’entre
vous, séduits par des insinuations perfides, briguant l’amitié et la protection
des français.20
He was likewise conscious of the potency of his own political image, and
relished the horror he inspired in proponents of colonialism. In the
Declaration of Independence, he urged, ‘Rappelle-toi […] que mon nom est
devenu en horreur à tous les peuples qui veulent l’esclavage, et que les
despotes et les tyrans ne le prononceront qu’en maudissant le jour qui m’a
vu naître.’
An additional dimension of Dessalines’ strong interest in semiotic poli-
tics was the issue of the colonial language, French, versus Creole, which,
although spoken by the colonists also, nevertheless was strongly identified
as the slaves’ own ‘jargon’. The French naturalist Michel-Etienne Descourtilz,
who observed Dessalines during his time as a political prisoner of the
Haitian army, recorded that he foreswore the use of French after Napoleon’s
armies had landed in 1802, in a conscious appropriation of the local dis-
course and a rejection of colonial semiotics:
Dessalines, commençant à se prononcer ouvertement contre l’armée expédi-

tionnaire, évitoit, détestoit jusqu’à leur idiome; c’est pourquoi il reprit
très-sévèrement le fils d’un propriétaire des Gonaïves, qui, créole de Saint-
Domingue, s’avisa de lui parler en français: ‘Tiembé langue à vous, lui dit-il en
le toisant avec dédain, pourquoi chercher tienn’ les autr’?’21
Dessalines’ ‘authorial’ role thus extends beyond his own speech acts, to his
political critique and manipulation of the very stakes of authorship.
The African Emperor in the postcolonial New World

We learn from Dessalines’ acceptance of his nomination as Emperor,
dated February of 1804, that he viewed himself as a warrior, and would
remain identified as a general even in his new, ostensibly more presti-
gious, role as Emperor. This proclamation, signed by Dessalines, Governor
General, and by the Adjutant General Boisrond Tonnerre, was widely
published in English translation in the United States, although not until
334 Deborah Jenson

October and November of 1804, almost six months after the apparent 22. Imperial nomination
date of the original proclamation: of Napoleon
Bonaparte, Moniteur
universel, 1 May
I am a soldier. War has ever been my portion; and as long as the cruelty, the 1804 (11 floréal, an
barbarity, and the avarice of our enemies, bring them to our shores, I will 12 de la République).
justify your choice, and combating at your head, I shall prove that the title of 23. The report of the
your general will ever be honorable to me. ‘Organic Senatus
Daily Advertiser, 11 October 1804 Consultum’ of
Floreal, year 12,
stated in Article 1
Napoleon’s imperial nomination had occurred during a special session of that ‘The government
the Tribunat on 1 May, at which Citizen Curée had introduced a motion of the republic shall
be entrusted to an
‘1) que le Gouvernement de la République soit confié à un Empereur; emperor, who
[et] 2) que l’Empire soit héréditaire dans la famille de Napoléon assumes the title
Bonaparte, actuellement Premier Consul.’22 The February 15 date of of emperor of the
French.’ The Daily
Dessalines’ acceptance thus seems to indicate that his own nomination Advertiser, 26 July
as Emperor preceded that of Napoleon. But the almost binaristic contrast 1804.
of style and content between the two immediately begs the question of 24. Thomas Madiou,
which nomination and acceptance actually responded to and critiqued Histoire d’Haïti,
the terms of the other. Although Curée’s motion, and the rapturous Port-au-Prince, Haiti:
Imprimerie de Jh.
accord of all members of the Tribunat but the beleaguered Lazare Courtois, 1849, vol.
Carnot, was delivered in heroic terms (‘Charlemagne avait gouverné la 3, p. 170.
France en homme qui était supérieur de beaucoup à son siècle’
[Moniteur universel 11 floréal an 12]), the final French confirmation was
dry, pompous and legalistic. It stressed that the ‘imperial dignity’ would
be hereditary, passing on from male to male by primogeniture among
Napoleon’s children or those of his brothers. It stipulated details ranging
from the role of the senate under the Empire to the residences of the
Emperor and the salary percentages of a hypothetical future ‘minor
Emperor’ and Regent.23
By contrast, Dessalines’ acceptance speech is dramatic and personal.
Not only is it focused on his warrior status, it has a strongly non-western
tone. Hereditary transmission of imperial status is the first target of what
appear to be his revisions of the structures of empire. And in fact, the
nineteenth-century Haitian historian Thomas Madiou confirms that
Dessalines’ tone of critique was just that: his nomination and acceptance
were backdated to January and February of 1804, but they were actually
composed in August, after the Haitians had received news of the new
French Empire.24 This is why the nomination and acceptance did not
appear in American newspapers until early October. This manipulative
attempt simultaneously to compete with critique French power does not
reduce the interest of the Haitian identification, however; on the contrary,
it shows Dessalines’ conscious differentiation of his own practices and
beliefs from those of the European metropole he had defeated. Haitian
emperors have been belittled as mimic emperors, but Dessalines was also a
critic emperor.
Dessalines speaks in the acceptance of never allowing his sword to
‘sleep’ in order to pass on his own valour to the national family of warriors:
The supreme rank to which you elevate me tells me that I am become [sic]
the father of my fellow citizens, of whom I was the defender; but the father of

a family of warriors never suffers the sword to sleep if he wishes to transmit

his valor to his descendants, to inure them to battles.
Although the power of his sword can be magically transmitted, and will
guarantee the safety of his soldiers, Dessalines specifically renounces
heredity (‘ancestry’) in the transmission of imperial power:
I renounce, yes, I formally renounce, the unjust custom of transmitting my

power to my family. I shall never respect ancestry, but when the talents req-
uisite for a good governor are united in the subject. Frequently the head
which is fired by the burning ardor of youth, contributes more effectually to
the happiness of his country than the cool experience of age, which tempo-
rizes at the moment when temerity alone should govern.
This non-dynastic transmission of power reflects Dessalines’ belief that

authority is earned through prowess and the inspired military exhibition
of paternal concern for the national family. For Dessalines, authority is
also compensated in full by this national military/spiritual bond. In the
Declaration of Independence, he noted that he had never sought any
material gains from his leadership role, but considered himself paid in full
by the Haitians’ hard-earned freedom: ‘Je ne suis riche que de ta liberté.’
Dessalines’ distrust of the moderating influence of age is a sign of his
belief in the necessity of not just one revolution, but revolutions in the
plural: ‘If the sober passions make common men, half measures will arrest
the rapid march of revolutions.’ Revolution was an ongoing process, and
leaders were necessarily revolutionaries. There were no halfway revolutions
for Dessalines, in theory or in practice.
Dessalines showed a preoccupation with magical projections of power
closely related to the glory of the warrior. There are frequent references to
‘idols’ and ‘relics’ in proclamations he issued through both Boisrond
Tonnerre and Chanlatte. On first glance, in these references Dessalines
appears to be using the western critique of religious or magical materialism
in the same sense, but against the accuser. On closer examination, it
becomes apparent that he is critiquing the power of western idols without
renouncing other magical practices and powers. Thus in his acceptance of
the imperial nomination, he attacks the French use of ‘idols’ and ‘relics’,
and derides their power. The Africans, he contends, had been enslaved as a
‘sacrifice’ to the French ‘idol’ of prejudice. The Haitians had smashed this
idol through their own autonomous agency, which was, he implies, the
only way abolition could actually overthrow the western beliefs of which
the institution of slavery was a projection: ‘We are men who have founded
our Independence to the prejudice of that consideration which powers
never concede to people who like us are the authors of their own liberty’, he
states. ‘[We] have no occasion to beg for foreign assistance to break the idol
to which we were sacrificed. That idol, like Saturn, devoured its children,
and we have trampled it under our feet.’ This passage, published in 1804,
quite precisely foreshadows the terms of Hegel’s assertion that freedom
from bondage could not come in the form of a gift. Dessalines implies that
slavery was only a concrete ‘idol’ of a larger sacralized field of western
prejudices and hierarchical values.
336 Deborah Jenson

A similar critique of French magical projections of power appears in 25. Letter of Napoleon
Dessalines’ 8 February 1804 proclamation, composed with Chanlatte, to Bonaparte to
Vice-Admiral Decrès,
the inhabitants of Santo Domingo. Napoleon, hoping to repossess Santo 1 September 1805:
Domingo as a base from which to contest the Haitian decolonization, had http://www.
installed General Ferrand as governor of Santo Domingo in January 1804. histoire-empire.org/
correspondance_de_
Ferrand would coordinate a French naval presence and try to ward off the napoleon/1805/
incursions of the Haitians. (In an illustration of the French determination septembre_01.htm
to control Santo Domingo, Napoleon instructed Vice-Admiral Decrès on Accessed 30 April
2007.
1 September 1805 to send a ship from Martinique that would rendezvous
with two other ships off of Santo-Domingo, ‘où ils prendront des ordres du 26. Jean-Jacques
Dessalines,
général Ferrand, pour croiser autour de la colonie et en imposer aux bâti- ‘Proclamation ou
ments qu’armeraient les noirs et aux autres bâtiments qui croiseraient Sommation Faite au
avec les rebelles.’25) Dessalines was determined to overthrow French con- Général qui
commandait à Santo-
trol of Santo Domingo, and in his proclamation he mocked the Dominicans’ Domingo, Au Cap, 8
magical thinking with regard to the powers of the French: février 1804, Jean-
Jacques Dessalines,
Gouverneur-Général
Vous sauvera-t-il ce ministre imaginaire lorsque le fer et la flamme à la main aux habitants de la
je vous poursuivrai jusque dans vos derniers retranchemens ? Eh ! Sans doute partie Espagnole,’
ses pensées, ses grimaces, ses reliques ne pourront m’arrêter dans ma course. Archives d’Outre-mer
F3, vol. 141, p. 550.
Vous préservera-t-il de ma juste colère ?26 (The date on this
manuscript appears
Dessalines had come to count the citizens of Santo Domingo among his to be wrong ; the
majority of historical
‘children’, but he warned them that if they aligned themselves with the sources provide the
relics and magical thinking of the French, his vengeance would be as drastic date of 8 May 1804.)
and powerful as that of nature’s offended boundaries: 27. Cited in Pamphile de
Lacroix: ‘He
Qu’ils apprennent donc que je suis prêt, que la foudre va tomber sur leurs addressed these
memorable words to
têtes : qu’ils sachent que mes soldats impatiens n’attendent qu’un signal the division chief
pour aller réconquérir les limites que la nature et les éléments nous ont Savary, commander
assignés. Encore quelques instans et j’écrase les débris des français sous le of the vessel: “In
overthrowing me,
poids de ma puissance. they have only
knocked over in
Another, and decisive, representation of Dessalines’ belief in the superior Saint-Domingue the
trunk of the tree of
powers of his own righteous vengeance occurs in the English version of the liberty of the
the ‘I have avenged America’ proclamation. Dessalines generally was blacks; it will grow
attentive to established political metaphors, but rather than reiterating back by the roots, for
they are deep and
them, he recast them so that they were simultaneously appropriated and numerous.”’
critiqued. In the proclamation, he redeploys the ‘tree of liberty’ metaphor Mémoires pour servir à
to striking effect. l’histoire de Saint-
Domingue, Paris:
The Revolutionary French had made the ‘tree of liberty’ a centrepiece Pillet aîné, 1819,
of popular celebrations of the Revolution. In Saint-Domingue, the ‘tree of vol. 2, p. 203.
liberty’ also had been celebrated by the French commissioners and by
Toussaint. When Toussaint was seized and deported by the French, he
famously proclaimed, ‘In overthrowing me, they have uprooted in Saint-
Domingue only the trunk of the tree of the liberty of the blacks; it will
grow back because its roots are deep and numerous.’27 The tree of liberty
in Toussaint’s Gonaives statement was the tree of liberty ‘of the blacks’.
But for Dessalines, liberty in the mouths of the French was a euphemism
for the veiled existence of slavery and prejudice, and so the tree of liberty
became the tree of slavery and prejudice. Likewise, the French, renowned

throughout the western world as champions of the rights of man, were for
Dessalines ‘the implacable enemies of the rights of man’. He claimed to
have given the signal through which the justice of God had worked through
the slaves to bring ‘the axe upon the ancient tree of slavery and prejudices’.
But it is the further development of this metaphor that is truly striking.
Dessalines imagines that once the Haitians have brought down the tree of
slavery and prejudice, they place its bared wood against their hearts like a
magical amulet. The contact of the wood against their hearts makes them
as cruel as their enemies, and their vengeance becomes like an overflowing
torrent, carrying away everything that opposes it:
In vain had time, and more especially the infernal politics of Europeans, sur-
rounded it [the tree of slavery] with brass; you have stripped it of its triple
armour: you have placed it upon your heart that you may become an over-
flowing, mightly [sic] torrent, that tears down all opposition, your vengeful
fury has carried away every thing in its impetuous course. Thus perish all
tyrants over innocence!
The wood of the tree of slavery, worn protectively against their chests,
hardens the slaves’ hearts, and allows them to fell their abusers.
Anticolonial nature
Dessalines arguably aspired to the legacy of Makandal, the slave who was
executed in 1757 for his attempt to organize an anticolonial revolution by
mass poisoning, as much as to that of Toussaint Louverture. In the ‘I have
avenged America’ proclamation, we see that for Dessalines, Makandal’s
attempted insurrection was on a continuum with the yellow fever that
had decimated the French troops (killing even their leader, Leclerc), and
the fires with which the Haitians had blocked Napoleon’s repossession
of cities that had come under the control of the ex-slaves. Poison, disease
and conflagration were all manifestations of the supernaturally offended
spirit of the slaves, animating the natural realm in sympathetic cataclysm.
He warned the world that the sea itself would rise up against hostile naval
incursions:
Let that nation come who may be mad and daring enough to attack me.
Already at its approach, the irritated genius of Hayti, rising out of the bosom
of the ocean, appears; his menacing aspect throws the waves into commotion,
excites tempests, and with his mighty hand disperses ships, or dashes them
in pieces; to his formidable voice the laws of nature pay obedience; diseases,
plague, famine, conflagration, poison, are his constant attendants. But why
calculate on the assistance of the climate and of the elements? Have I forgot
that I command a people of no common call, brought up in adversity?
Dessalines’ environmental poetics of invincible revolution was quite elabo-

rate. Even if the colonists should penetrate the seaside cities, he warns, in a
reference to the successful guerilla tactics of the former slaves and maroons,
‘woe to those who approach too near the mountains!’ Jean Fouchard’s
formulation of the ‘maroons of liberty’ is consistent with Dessalines’ identifi-
cation of postcolonial Haiti with the military sanctuary of the mountains.
338 Deborah Jenson

The Haitian Revolution is of course believed to have begun with the 28. Hérard Dumesle,
ceremony and the oath of the Cayman woods, which Haitian historian Voyage dans le nord
d’Hayti, ou révélations
Hérard Dumesle provided in Creole form in 1824: des lieux et des
monumens, Aux
Bondié qui fait soleil, qui clairé nous en haut, Cayes, Haiti:
De l’imprimerie
Qui soulévé la mer, qui fait grondé l’orage, du Gouvernement,
Bon dié la, zot tandé? caché dans youn nuage, 1824, 90.
Et la li gadé nous, li vouai tout ça blancs faits!
Bon dié blancs mandé crime, et part nous vlé bienfets
mais [sic] dié lá qui si bon, ordonnin nous vengeance;
Li va conduit bras nous, la ba nous assistance,
Jetté portrait dié blancs qui soif dlo dans gié nous,
Couté la liberté li pale coeurs nous toùs [sic]28
It translates from the Creole as follows:
God who makes the sun that illuminates us from above,

Who embroils the seas, who makes the storm rage,
God is there, do you hear?, hidden in a cloud,
And there he watches us, he sees everything the whites are doing!
The God of the whites orders crime, and wants nothing good for us,
But the God there who is so good, orders us to take vengeance;
He will guide our arms, he will give us assistance;
Cast down the portrait of the god of the whites, who thirsts for tears in our
eyes;
Listen to liberty, it speaks in all of our hearts.
Dessalines’ figure of the irritated genius of Hayti resembles the environ-

mental eruptions of God in the oath, who sends stormy seas from his
vengeful vantage point in the clouds. Even more explicitly, in a stunning
line at the end of the ‘I have avenged America’ proclamation, Dessalines
explains that he has extended his mercy only to whites who had taken an
oath to live with the former slaves in the woods: ‘A handful of whites, com-
mendable by the religion they have always professed, and who have
besides taken the oath to live with us in the woods, have experienced my
clemency. I order that the sword respect them.’
Nature symbolism is especially prominent in this proclamation, but it
also appears in others. In the Declaration of Independence, Dessalines
lauds ‘notre climat vengeur’, and asks when the Haitians will grow weary
of breathing in the same air as that breathed by the French: ‘Quand nous
lasserons-nous de respirer le même air qu’eux?’ And in the proclamation
to the inhabitants of Santo Domingo, as previously mentioned, he outlined
his determination to reconquer ‘les limites que la nature et les éléments
nous ont assignés’. Far from the culture/nature binarism of western
thought, Dessalines framed nature as an animated anticolonial force cen-
tral to the Empire of liberty.
Black universalism, or Dessalines’ pan-Africanist ideology

The unabashed animism, militant anticolonialism, relish for vengeance
and critique of French revolutionary hypocrisy in Dessalines’ proclamations

29. St-Victor Jean mark his discourse as distinctively non-western. His political outreach to
Baptiste, Le Fondateur slaves in other colonies further characterizes his thought as an early
devant l’histoire, Port-
au-Prince, Haiti: manifestation of pan-Africanist political solidarity. Although Dessalines’s
Imprimerie radical distrust would cause him ultimately to order the massacres not
Eben-Ezer, only of whites, but also of mulattoes – a move which would lead to his own
1954, p. 241.
assassination in 1806 – in the ‘I have avenged America’ proclamation of
1804 he viewed a general racial solidarity as crucial. No more divide and
conquer tactics through racial ideology, he warned:
Blacks and yellows, whom the refined duplicity of Europeans has for a long
time endeavoured to divide: you who are now consolidated, and make but
one family: without doubt it was necessary that your perfect reconciliation
should be sealed with the blood of your butchers. … That happy harmony
amongst yourselves … is the secret of being invincible.
That solidarity extended not just to the allegedly separate racial categories of
the African diaspora in Saint-Domingue, but to the African diaspora in other
colonies. Dessalines urged not only remembrance of ‘the catalog of atrocities
committed against our species’, and the reinslavement plotted ‘with the
calmness and serenity of a countenance accustomed to similar crimes’, but
remembrance of Delgrès’ unsuccessful 1802 revolt in Guadeloupe: ‘the
brave and immortal Delgresse, blown into the air with the fort which he
defended, rather than accept their offered chains’. He wishes that he could
decolonize not only Guadeloupe but also Martinique: ‘Unfortunate people! If
only I could fly to your assistance, and break your fetters!’
The historical question of Dessalines’ intentions with regard to other
African diasporan colonial populations is an important one for the illumi-
nation of his political philosophy. Although as discussed above, Dessalines
did, unsuccessfully, attempt to bring the inhabitants of Santo Domingo
into his political/military ‘family’, his argument for doing so was essen-
tially that the Dominicans were being deceived, and even bewitched, into
this French alliance, and that the island of Hispaniola was naturally sepa-
rate from the frontiers of Europe. He had made it abundantly clear in the
Declaration of Independence that he was against any proto-colonial or
neo-colonial exercise of Haitian authority in the Caribbean region. The
Declaration exhorts, ‘Gardons-nous cependant de l’esprit de prosélitisme,
[…] laissons en paix respirer nos voisins. Qu’ils vivent paisiblement sous
l’égide des lois qu’ils se sont faites.’ He cautions against becoming ‘législa-
teurs des Antilles’, or letting the Haitians’ glory consist in ‘troubling the
repose of neighboring islands’. This section of the Declaration concludes,
‘Paix à nos voisins, anathème au français!’ And yet Jean Baptiste Saint-
Victor argues that Dessalines had a ‘pan-American’ ideology with strong
connections to early South American independence struggles: ‘Et c’est à la
faveur de ce climat de liberté crée dans les Amériques par le triomphe des
armes indigenes que, vers le mois d’août 1804, les patriotes du Vénézuela
déléguèrent auprès de Dessalines une mission chargée de solliciter son
concours pour l’Indépendance de ce pays.’29
The most detailed evidence of Dessalines’ intentions to spread the revo-
lution in Haiti came in 1806, when a French colonist from Saint-Domingue,
Roberjot Lartigue, who was then working as a French commissioner in
340 Deborah Jenson

Saint Thomas, reported that he had uncovered a plot by Dessalines to 30. Roberjot Lartigue,
forcibly decolonize Guadeloupe and Martinique and liberate their African Rapport de la conduite
qu’a tenue M. Roberjot
diasporan populations. To date, there is somewhat indirect documentation Lartigue, au sujet de
for this plot. Lartigue’s narrative to M.L.E. Moreau de Saint-Méry on the l’entreprise formée par
matter has the disadvantage of being a retroactive reconstitution, in 1814, Dessalines, pour
soulever la Martinique,
of original correspondence on the matter that had allegedly been lost in la Guadeloupe, et
1806. Yet Lartigue’s description resonates with Dessalines’ earlier state- Marie-Galante, Certifié
ment of wistful military solidarity with the black revolutionaries who de MM. Le Lieutenant-
générale-Gouverneur de
perished in Guadeloupe in 1802. The possible veracity of the story is also la Guadeloupe et
recommended by the fact that it would have been a logical strategy for dépendences; le
circumventing the British (and French) naval blockade around Hispaniola. Général-Préfet colonial
et le Général-
It is furthermore substantially – yet not definitively – supported by an commandant des
1815 pamphlet in which Lartigue, campaigning for a royal retirement troupes de la même île;
pension based on his meritorious service, reprinted letters from a wide le Colonel-commandant
de la ville et arrondisse-
array of Caribbean officials who testified to their knowledge of Dessalines’ ment de St.-Pierre; le
plot at the time.30 Grand-Juge de la
Lartigue claimed that Dessalines had sent a number of black and mixed Martinique; le Général-
commandant en chef,
race Haitians to St. Thomas to form a club. There, they worked on a plan Administrateur-général
to slip into the French colonies and instigate an uprising of the blacks. de Santo-Domingo;
Lartigue reported that in October of 1806, d’un Habitant, Officier
de la Trinité espagnole;
et le Grand-Juge de St-
Dessalines expédia de St. Domingue des émissaires pour exécuter le projet Thomas, Conseiller de
monstrueux de descendre à la Martinique et à la Guadeloupe, d’y assassiner Justice actuel de S.M.
le Roi de Danemarck.
tous les habitants, de brûler les villes, de soulever tous les nègres et les gens Paris: Dubray,
de couleur et d’y former 14 régimans, s’en rendre maître et y établir l’indépen- imprimeur, 1815.
dence de ces deux colonies.31 31. Letter from Roberjot
Lartigue to M.L.E.
Having learned of the plot, Lartigue rushed to inform the authorities and Moreau de
Saint-Méry,
allegedly succeeded in having an injunction passed on 18 October 1806 backdated 20 May
against any commerce with the ‘nègres révoltés de St. Domingue’. He tried 1806 (delivered to
to have deportation proceedings initiated, but in the meantime, some of Moreau 29 August
1814), Archives
the plotters relocated to Trinidad, where they continued to raise support d’Outre-mer F3,
for an anticolonial insurrection on Christmas eve in Guadeloupe and vol. 141bis,
Martinique. They were, however, discovered and punished by the Trinidadian pp. 453–62.
government, according to Lartigue. In the meantime, Dessalines himself 32. As biographer Kofi
had been assassinated, on 17 October 1806. Natumbu explains,
‘All Africans brought
Dessalines’ documented and rumoured attitudes towards the other to the Americas were
enslaved populations of the Caribbean reveal what one could describe either initially given the last
as early pan-Africanism, or as a paradoxical ‘black universalism’: a univer- name of the
slaveholder who
salism, like that preached by the Enlightenment, delimited in de facto terms “owned” them.’
by loyalty of race, region and privilege. Pan-Africanism has always con- Critical Lives: The Life
tained this paradox of being a particularist and a universalist ideology at and Work of Malcolm
X, Indianapolis,
once; Dessalines’ critique of French Revolutionary universalism reminds us IN: Alpha Books,
that prior to the Haitian Revolution, it was similarly fashioned as a kind of 2002, p. 140.
pan-Europeanism rather than universalism in an absolute sense.
X
Malcolm X remained best known by the ‘X’ conferred generically on
Nation of Islam members to replace their ‘slave names’32 until they had
earned an Arabic one, long after he had earned his new name. This is no

33. ibid., p. 255. doubt because the X expressed something unique to his ideology and
activism. This ‘prophet of Black rage’ often indirectly suggested that out-
side of some future pan-African reinvention – from scratch – of society,
African Americans could have no genuine hope. The X of his transitional
status resonated with this oblique oxymoron of nihilistic rebirth. In 1962
he wrote, ‘There is no justice for us black people. There is no future for us
nor our children in “civilized” America.’33 Without overtly advocating the
violence that had infused both the poetics and the tactics of Dessalines,
Malcolm X taught hatred of the white blood that circulated in his own
body, which he viewed as a legacy of rape, just as Dessalines chafed at
breathing air that had been breathed by white masters.
When Dessalines claimed to have ‘avenged America’, he was, in part,
claiming a new start in radical fidelity to the historically oppressed peoples
of post-Columbian America. In the Declaration of independence, he promised
a stable government to the ‘indigenous people’ of the country abruptly
renamed ‘Ayiti’ after the aboriginal Taino Indian name for the ‘highlands’
of the island of Hispaniola. Of course, the diasporan population of former
slaves could hardly have been less ‘indigenous’ in a literal sense, and the
actual indigenes had succumbed to genocidal extinction long before. In
effect, the indigeneity chosen by Dessalines and other officers as a model
for postcolonial Independence was a traumatic and paradoxical indigeneity
of lost homelands on the one hand, and vanished homeland populations
on the other.
Malcolm X and Dessalines, separated by language, nation and almost
two centuries, were nevertheless part of a black Atlantic tradition whose
leaders have, all too often, had to imagine rather than read their dia-
logue. Dessalines, in conjunction with his secretaries, left one of the earliest
known ‘oeuvres’ of radical black Atlantic political theory, in which he
contested every trace of French colonial slaveholding culture: ‘Tout
y retrace le souvenir des cruautés de ce peuple barbare, nos lois, nos
moeurs, nos villes, tout encore porte l’empreinte française, que dis-je?’
These unique documents, French-language challenges to ‘Frenchness’,
provide us with a pre-twentieth century and non-anglophone model of
the ‘beginning’ of the postcolonial – marked with an X for its prophecy
of black rage.
References
Boisrond Tonnerre, Louis-Félix (1852), Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire d’Haïti,
Port-au-Prince, Haiti: Editions Fardin.
Bonaparte, Napoleon (2007), Letter to Vice-Admiral Decrès: http://www.
histoire-empire.org/correspondance_de_napoleon/1805/septembre_01.htm
Accessed 30 April 2007.
Césaire, Aimé (1963), La Tragédie du roi Christophe, Paris: Présence Africaine.
Chanlatte, Juste (1824), et Bouvet de Cresset, Histoire de la catastrophe de Saint-
Domingue, Paris: Librairie de Peytieux.
—— (1999), L’Entrée du roi en sa capitale in Jean-Claude Bajeux, Mosochwazi pawòl
ki ekri an kreyòl ayisyen (Anthologie de la littérature créole haïtienne), Port-au-Prince,
Haïti: Editions Antilia.
Constant, Benjamin (1952), Journaux intimes, Ed. A. Roulin and C. Roth Paris:
Gallimard.
342 Deborah Jenson

Cooper, Frederick (2005), ‘Postcolonial Studies and the Study of History’, in

Ania Loomba, Suvir Kaul, Matti Bunzl, Antoinette Burton and Jed Esty (eds),
Postcolonial Studies and Beyond, Durham, North Carolina: Duke University
Press.
Descourtilz, M.-E. (1809), Voyages d’un naturaliste à Saint-Domingue, 3 vols., Paris:
Dufart.
Dessalines, Jean-Jacques Declaration of Independence, 1 janvier 1804, Archives
nationales, AF III 210.
—— (1804), ‘Jean-Jacques Dessalines, Gov. General, to the Inhabitants of
Hayti’ [‘I have avenged America’], New York Commercial Advertiser, 4 June.
—— (1804), ‘Nouvelles étrangères, Etats-Unis d’Amérique’ [French version, ‘I
have avenged America’], Journal des débats, 7 August.
—— ‘The Governor General of Hayti, to the Generals of the Army, and to the Civil
and Military Authorities, Organs of the People’ [Acceptance of imperial nomi-
nation], Daily Advertiser, 11 October 1804
—— ‘Proclamation ou sommation faite au Général qui commandait à Santo
Domingo’, 8 février 1804, copied in the Notes historiques de Moreau de Saint-
Méry, Archives d’Outre-mer, F3, vol. 141, pp. 549–53.
Dubois, Laurent (2004), A Colony of Citizens: Revolution and Slave Emancipation in the
French Caribbean, 1787–1804, Chapel Hill, North Carolina: North Carolina
University Press.
Dumesle, Hérard (1824), Voyage dans le nord d’Hayti, ou révélations des lieux et des
monumens, Aux Cayes, Haiti: De l’imprimerie du Gouvernement.
Gilroy, Paul (1993), The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double Consciousness,
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Jean Baptiste, St-Victor (1954), Le Fondateur devant l’histoire, Port-au-Prince, Haiti:
Imprimerie Eben-Ezer,.
Jenson, Deborah (2008),’Toussaint Louverture, Spin Doctor? Launching the
Haitian Revolution in the French Media’, in Doris Garraway (ed.), Tree of
Liberty: Cultural Legacies of the Haitian Revolution in the Atlantic World,
Charlottesville, VA: Virginia University Press, forthcoming.
Pamphile de Lacroix (1819), Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire de Saint-Domingue,
Paris: Pillet aîné.
Lartigue, Roberjot Letter to M.L.E. Moreau de Saint-Méry, Archives d’Outre-mer F3,
vol. 141bis, pp. 453–62. [814, backdated to 1806]
—— (1815), Rapport de la conduite qu’a tenue M. Roberjot Lartigue, au sujet de l’en-
treprise formée par Dessalines, pour soulever la Martinique, la Guadeloupe, et
Marie-Galante, Certifié de MM. Le Lieutenant-générale-Gouverneur de la
Guadeloupe et dépendences; le Général-Préfet colonial et le Général-commandant des
troupes de la même île; le Colonel-commandant de la ville et arrondissement de
St.-Pierre; le Grand-Juge de la Martinique; le Général-commandant en chef,
Administrateur-général de Santo-Domingo; d’un Habitant, Officier de la Trinité
espagnole; et le Grand-Juge de St-Thomas, Conseiller de Justice actuel de S.M. le Roi
de Danemarck. Paris: Dubray, imprimeur.
Madiou, Thomas (1849), Histoire d’Haïti, Port-au-Prince, Haiti: Imprimerie de
Jh. Courtois.
Natumbu, Kofi (2002), Critical Lives: The Life and Work of Malcolm X, Indianapolis,
IN: Alpha Books.
Organic Senatus Consultum (1804), The Daily Advertiser, 26 July.
Sannon, H. Pauléus (1920), Histoire de Toussaint Louverture, Port-au-Prince:
Imprimerie A. A. Héraux.

Shohat, Ella (2006), Taboo Memories, Diasporic Voices, Durham, North Carolina:
Duke University Press.
Trouillot, Michel-Rolph (1995), ‘The Three Faces of Sans Souci,’ Silencing the Past,
Boston: Beacon Press.
West, Cornel (1992), ‘Malcolm X and Black Rage’, in Joe Wood (ed.), Malcolm X
in Our Own Image, New York: St. Martin’s Press.
Suggested citation
Jenson, D. (2007), ‘Before Malcolm X, Dessalines: a ‘French’ tradition of black Atlantic
radicalism’, International Journal of Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 329–344,
doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.329/1
Contributor details
Deborah Jenson teaches at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Her monograph
Beyond the Slave Narrative: Sex, Politics, and Manuscripts in the Haitian Revolution is
under contract with Liverpool University Press. A translation and critical edition, with
Doris Kadish, of Marceline Desbordes-Valmore’s colonial novella Sarah is forthcom-
ing from MLA Editions. Previous work includes Trauma and Its Representations: The
Social Life of Mimesis in Post-Revolutionary France (Johns Hopkins University Press,
2001), the “Haiti Issue (1804 and Nineteenth Century French Studies)” of Yale
French Studies (no.107, Spring 2005), and articles in Differences, The Yale Journal of
Criticism and The Columbia Encyclopedia of Twentieth-Century French Thought.
Contact: Department of French and Italian, 618 Van Hise, University of Wisconsin-
Madison, Madison, WI 53706.
E-mail: djenson@wisc.edu
344 Deborah Jenson

IJFS_10.3_04_art_Dubreuil.qxd 11/13/07 9:32 PM Page 345

Article. French Language. doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.345/1
Don du français et parole (post) coloniale

Laurent Dubreuil Cornell University
Abstract Keywords
This article aims to give a renewed theoretical substance to the words of francophonie. enseignement du
It tries to reconstruct the conditions of enunciation which characterize the French français
(post) colonial scene – from the Ancien Régime to the present. In each epoch of the francophonie
French colonial empire, a theologico-political core governed the effects of censor- Haïti
ship and of lingual reduction through the so-called ‘gift of languages’. If, accord- Toussaint Louverture
ing to the Code noir especially, a slave was mute or inaudible by definition, the Révolution Française
French and Haitian Revolutions opened a new space for ‘a black discourse in postcolonial
French’. Such a lingual event, as well as the triumph of the Jacobinist conception parole
of the national idiom, helps us to understand the uses and ruses of the Third théologico-politique
Republic regarding the teaching of the French language in the colonies. Thus, a théorie
necessarily (post)colonial francophonie could name the process of bypassing the
colonial order of speech and silence.
Résumé
Cet article veut redonner une substance théorique au langage de la francopho-
nie, via une reconstruction des situations d’énonciation propre à la scène
(post) coloniale – de l’Ancien Régime à la France d’aujourd’hui. En privilégiant la
matière théologico-politique, il s’agit de revenir sur les effets de censure et de
réduction qu’opéra le ‘don des langues’ dans les diverses époques de l’Empire
français d’outre-mer. On considère ici comment l’esclave était tout simplement
muet par définition avant d’observer la transformation opérée par l’ouverture de la
parole noire durant les Révolutions françaises et haïtiennes. Un tel événement
langagier, allié à la conception jacobine du français unitaire, explique les tours et
détours de la politique d’enseignement de l’idiome national dans les colonies sous la
Troisième République. La francophonie, nécessairement (post) coloniale, pourrait
devenir le nom de cette sortie de l’ordre hiérarchique des paroles et des silences.
Qui parle, le peut-il? Trouve-t-on une force ou une instance nous

autorisant à dire, à écrire? Assurément, l’usage social du langage privilégie
des acteurs, des oratrices au détriment d’autres. Mais il n’est pas de don de
la parole sans que celle-ci ne se prenne effectivement. En d’autres termes,
c’est le seul droit de proférer que l’on peut conférer; détenir une parole,
voilà une autre affaire. A la restriction a priori du recours au discours
s’ajoute pour le colonial un ensemble d’impossibilités prononcées, qui
touchent à la parole au moyen de la langue. Si un idiome s’acquiert tou-
jours, loin de toute naturalité, un Français dit de souche n’a pas plus de
prédisposition à sa langue qu’un individu fraîchement annexé à l’empire.

1. Ce texte est extrait Pourtant, dans bien des textes que nous allons lire, nous trouverons la
de ma recherche formulation d’une inaptitude linguistique chez le colonisé. Du coup,
(provisoirement
intitulé L’Empire de l’indigène francophone, par exemple, passera pour une poupée de
la langue) où j’analyse ventriloque – ou, au contraire, un prodige. En ce cas, miracle divin ou
les politiques, preuve vivante de l’action surnaturelle de l’éducation nationale, le nou-
philosophies et
prescriptions liées à veau locuteur devra encore affronter une certaine histoire de la langue, qui
l’inculcation du chercha à se prémunir de toute ‘bâtardise’ et qui voulut imposer un silence
français aux colonies. jusqu’au cœur des mots. Don et censure du français visaient à garantir une
2. Respectivement: francophonie instrumentale contre toute (velléité de) parole.
articles 33, 34, 35 et
36, 38 du Code noir
dont le texte peut Je voudrais ici désigner les principaux procédés de justifications de cette
être trouvé par censure, ainsi que leurs dispositions pratiques. En un sens, je me livre ici à
exemple dans Louis une retraversée de la ‘théorie coloniale’ française, en isolant trois scènes:
Sala-Molins, Le Code
noir ou Le Calvaire de la programmation théologico-politique du premier Empire, celui de
Canaan, Paris: Presses l’Ancien Régime et du Code noir; l’ouverture d’une parole noire en français
Universitaires de autour de 1789; et la controverse linguistique des années 1880–90, d’où
France, 2002.
va sortir la doctrine républicaine de l’enseignement du français aux
colonisés. Un mot supplémentaire: je vais parler de la constitution de la
censure, et très peu des moyens de la déjouer. Qu’il soit entendu, heureuse-
ment, que l’interdit dans le dit n’a jamais fait que rendre très difficile voire
quasi-impossible une parole de décolonisation – mais la prescription a
échoué aussi, qui nous donne la possibilité de nos études dites francopho-
nes et postcoloniales. Je me livre donc plutôt à la description des pièges et
des prohibitions, sans préjuger de leur levée.1
Silence absolu et don des langues

Nous entrons dans la programmation théologico-politique contre la parole indigène
et par la langue. ‘Par la langue’ est la spécificité du second empire colonial, et sa
postérité. Non que l’Ancien Régime ait favorisé de quelque façon l’expression
des esclaves. Mais la langue ne jouait pas du tout le rôle que nous avons
commencé d’annoncer. La censure s’exerçait d’une autre manière, que je vais
me contenter d’approcher à grands traits.
Le Code noir, rédigé par Colbert et signé par Louis XIV, est le texte de loi
qui régit l’esclavage dans les colonies françaises, pendant plus d’un siècle. Il
est riche de prescriptions et de détails, en particulier dans le domaine des
‘obligations’ des maîtres (dont on sait qu’elles furent assez peu respectées
pour la plupart) et des châtiments (eux généralement appliqués). Or le Code
noir ne mentionne pas même la possibilité que l’esclave puisse parler.
L’interdit ici est général, la censure radiale. L’esclave est littéralement un
enfant: il n’a pas voix au chapitre, mais la possibilité de sa parole est en
outre niée d’avance. En conséquence, les seuls méfaits des Noirs (pour le
Code) se situent dans les coups qu’ils peuvent porter, les voies de faits, le vol,
la fuite.2 Les affranchis, eux, sont enjoints de témoigner un respect partic-
ulier envers leurs anciens maîtres et descendants directs. ‘L’injure’, men-
tionnée à l’article 58, serait punie selon des circonstances aggravantes. En
droit ancien, l’injure peut être physique ou verbale. La capacité d’une parole
blessante n’est donc introduite qu’à partir de l’instant où, l’esclavage ayant
cessé, l’âme est légalement réintégrée dans le corps jusque-là possédé. L’édit
royal annihile la parole par la visée performative de son langage; mais l’an-
nulation n’est pas le fait de la langue française. Le texte de loi aurait vocation
346 Laurent Dubreuil

à se réaliser, quel que soit l’idiome dans lequel on le traduirait. Quant à l’in- 3. Voir l’article 111
jure, elle serait reconnue indépendamment du parlé qui la formulerait. de l’ordonnance de
Villers-Cotterêts. Le
C’est que l’Ancien Régime a facilement toléré un plurilinguisme de fait texte en est disponible
au sein du royaume. La langue n’est pas le socle identitaire. La célèbre à l’adresse Internet
ordonnance de Villers-Cotterêts (1539) mentionne le ‘langage maternel http://www.assemblee-
nationale.fr/histoire/
françois’ dans un seul article.3 A partir de la Renaissance, la dimension villers-cotterets.asp
sociale de la prescription langagière est intrinsèquement associée à l’exer-
4. Bible; Genèse 11, 1–10.
cice du pouvoir royal (la Cour, les cours de justice, la Capitale, etc.). La pro-
duction livresque, et particulièrement la littérature, vont étendre cet usage 5. Bible; Actes des
Apôtres 2.
du français. Enfin, l’injonction du français pour tous et partout n’est ni
fondamentale ni effective dans la France d’Ancien Régime. La situation 6. Bible; Actes des
Apôtres 2, 3.
linguistique est au contraire diffractée selon les lieux et les milieux.
Dans un tel contexte, la mise au silence des esclaves ne pouvait donc 7. The Jesuit Relations and
Allied Documents, vol.
pas être fortement liée à la langue. Cela n’exclut en rien une modélisa- 1 Acadia: 1610–1613,
tion théologico-politique des parlers. Seulement, les voies empruntées Cleveland: The
croisent rarement l’option majoritaire que nous découvrirons à la fin du Burrows Brothers,
1897, p. 160.
dix-neuvième siècle. Dans un pays de diversité linguistique et de particu-
larismes, le créole est une dégénérescence supplémentaire, un nouveau 8. Monumenta
Missionum Societatis
patois, c’est-à-dire un ‘langage corrompu’ pour reprendre la définition Iesu, vol. 5 Missiones
donnée par l’Encyclopédie de Diderot et D’Alembert. Cette vision de la Orientales.
déliquescence peut être structurellement solidaire de la condamnation Documenta Indica II
(1550–1553), Rome:
biblique:4 les hommes sont voués à se comprendre de moins en moins. Monumenta Historica
L’exil hors de la ville de Babel, la dispersion géographique sont les facteurs Societatis Iesu, 1950,
de la multiplication idiolectale. Même s’il n’est alors pas reconnu comme pp. 158 et 562, textes
de 1551 et 1552
une langue, le créole relève du processus de différenciation qui est à l’œu- respectivement; je
vre dans l’histoire théologique de la Chute, et ses répétitions. L’apparition traduis.
d’une espèce vulgaire parlée par le vulgaire coïncide avec la séparation
hiérarchique du corps politique et le témoignage de l’Ancien Testament.
L’inévitable corruption saurait-elle être évitée? Les Missions, en répan-
dant la bonne parole, déplacent la question de la langue. L’épisode de la
glossolalie que décrivent les Actes des Apôtres5 sert autrement la conquête
des colonisés. Dans ce passage, Luc présente les apôtres comme inspirés par
l’esprit saint. Des ‘langues de feu’6 signalent le nouveau don: les prédica-
teurs s’adressent à une foule cosmopolite, et chacun reconnaît son
langage. Le message du Dieu évangélique n’a pas besoin d’une langue
donnée. Le Nouveau Testament corrige donc la malédiction de Babel
dans l’universalité (cf. grec katholikos) de la parole du Christ. Les
Missionnaires de l’époque moderne vont s’atteler à leur tour à évangéliser
dans les langues des peuples lointains, colonisés ou asservis ou
évangélisés. L’inculcation du français et du latin d’Eglise a bien lieu, mais
l’avancée décisive se fait toujours par l’idiome de l’autre. Les difficultés
engendrées par les incertitudes linguistique des prêtres et des interprètes
ravivent le récit de la Pentecôte. ‘Faute de sçavoir la langue’, note l’ecclési-
astique Pierre Biard en 1610, on ne peut ‘instruire’ à fond.7 Biard ne fait
que redire la conviction portée dès le siècle précédent par les membres
ibériques de la Compagnie de Jésus, tel prédicateur affirmant ‘il est néces-
saire de comprendre la langue’ ou cet autre ‘nous apprenons la langue,
nous en tirons de nombreux fruits’.8 Les Jésuites en particulier sont
maîtres de cette propagation du Verbe divin par le biais des langues. L’une
des premières relations de mission en terre étrangère est rédigée par Paul Le
Don du français et parole (post) coloniale 347

9. Les textes de Paul Le Jeune, dans les années 1630. Dans la Nouvelle France de Champlain, il n’a
Jeune sont reproduits de cesse de souligner l’importance du plurilinguisme pour l’homme de foi.
dans The Jesuit
Relations and Allied En même temps qu’il apprend ‘l’A, B, C’ à un enfant indien et un ‘petit
Documents, vol. 5 Neigre’9 originaire de Madagascar, Le Jeune s’attelle à l’étude assidue du
Québec: 1632–1633, ‘langage des Sauuages’.10 Le missionnaire jésuite doit se passer d’inter-
Cleveland: The
Burrows Brothers, prète, devenir polyglotte et même adapter les prières dans un nouvel
1897, p. 62. idiome. Le Jeune mentionne ainsi ‘le Pater noster qu[‘il a] composé, quasi
10. ibid., p. 112. en rimes en leur langue’.11 Parmi les derniers mots de la Relation de 1633
figure le souhait ‘O que ne sçavons nous les langues de ces pauuvres
11. ibid., p. 188.
Sauuages! Ce sera quand il plaira à Nostre Seigneur.’12 Au Nouveau
12. ibid., p. 264. monde ou en Asie, l’action missionnaire reste liée au respect de la parole
13. ibid., p. 186. divine, indépendamment de la langue pratiquée. Les idiomes vernacu-
laires européens, le latin, comme les langages des Indes ou d’Amérique sont
aptes à répandre le message biblique.
L’articulation du théologique et du politique est ainsi complexe et
différenciée. Le plan du pouvoir mondain n’est pas détaché de l’Eglise, c’est
même le sacré de la souveraineté qui le permet – mais il n’est pas celui du
pouvoir intemporel, où la religion doit malgré tout passer par sa réalisation
sociale. Le théologico-politique devient alors bifide, se proposant des buts
divergents, quoique l’action les rendent compatibles de fait. En l’occurrence,
la force de loi annihile la possibilité de parole chez l’esclave et réduit au
minimum l’expression du ‘sauvage’, fût-il affranchi. Cependant, afin d’éprou-
ver le don divin des langues, le missionnaire a besoin de reconnaître que le
colonisé (Indien ou Noir) parle un autre idiome, langue à part entière ou
patois. Loin qu’une pareille ‘contradiction’ fasse s’écrouler le système
colonial, elle entretient la violence de la subjugation. L’existence individu-
elle est régie par les mouvements intempestifs d’un plan à l’autre du
théologico-politique. Dans la phrase de possession, on assiste à une série
aléatoire de raptus, succédant d’ailleurs au rapt physique – expulsion d’un
lieu vers l’autre, brèches dans la continuité, extases légales. Le colonisé sera
toujours possédé à la fin du jeu. Enfin, chaque plan est susceptible de
poursuivre un exercice au moins paradoxal. Certes, le prodige apostolique
ratifie la faculté langagière jusque chez le sauvage, sans quoi pas de
merveilleux; mais cette capacité des catéchisés se présente subrepticement
comme un effet second de l’énergie pastorale. Ceux d’outre-mer parlaient
avant l’arrivée des Jésuites; seulement l’inculcation de la parole de Dieu
leur refait le langage. Gardons la relation de Le Jeune. L’auteur souligne à
de nombreuses reprises ses difficultés dans l’apprentissage linguistique.
Pourtant, quand, en 1633, il décrit son enseignement, il est, par la grâce
de Dieu, celui qui met les mots dans la bouche d’enfants ne parlant pas
français. On lit ainsi ‘ie leur fais dire le Pater, Aue, & Credo, en leur langue:
ie leur explique grossierement le mystere de la Sainte Trinité, & de
l’Incarnation; & à tous bouts de champ ie leur demande si je dis bien, s’ils
entendent bien, ils me respondent tous, eoco, eoco, ninisitoutenan: ouy, ouy,
nous entendons.’13 L’inquiétude née de la mauvaise maîtrise de la langue
est levée par l’assentiment des élèves, qui contresignent l’existence d’une
force glossolalique. Mais il y a plus. Les enfants n’ont ici la parole que pour
dire des prières rédigées par le prêtre dans leur propre langue – et déclarer
qu’ils entendent. Le divin et le phatique. Le Jeune devient le vrai dépositaire
de cette langue indigène, qu’il apprit à demi. Il peut s’en rendre maître en

la réinventant: ‘ie forge des mots approchans de leur langue, que ie je leur 14. ibid., p. 188.
fais entendre.’14 Les néologismes forment le nouveau lexique catholique 15. ibid., p. 188.
d’un idiome en révolution. Notons au passage que la syntaxe de la
16. Voir l’étude de
dernière citation est à la limite de l’amphibologie; et il se pourrait lire que Shenwen Li, Stratégies
le prêtre fait entendre leur langue aux élèves. Cela ne constituerait au fond missionnaires des
qu’une extrapolation de la prière qu’a écrite Le Jeune et dont il donne lui- jésuites français en
Nouvelle-France et en
même les premiers mots dans le texte original et leur traduction en Chine au XVIIe siècle,
français: ‘Mon Seigneur ou Capitaine Iesus; enseignez moy vos paroles & Saint-Nicolas/Paris:
vostre volonté!’15 Presses de l’Université
Laval/L’Harmattan,
Quand un missionnaire en vient à recréer la langue de l’autre, ce que 2001.
firent tous ceux qui adaptèrent des termes européens pour exprimer la
17. Liliane Chauleau,
divinité ou imposèrent un nouveau sémantisme au lexique d’autres ‘Quelle histoire pour
langues,16 la parole du sauvage finit par n’être plus qu’une conséquence l’esclavage? Quelle
du surnaturel lié au pouvoir ecclésial. Avant l’arrivée des Européens, les parole de l’esclave?’
in Marie-Christine
indigènes ne faisaient qu’attendre la révélation de leur propre idiome par Rochmann (éd.),
le Verbe d’Eglise. Sur le versant plus temporel des choses, le droit est l’insti- Esclavage et abolitions,
tution qui va le plus loin dans les tactiques contraires. Le Code noir réduit à Mémoires et systèmes
de représentation,
rien la parole de l’esclave, on l’a vu. Toutefois, la scène judiciaire est le lieu Paris: Karthala,
où le Nègre, s’il est appelé, doit parler. La transcription du témoignage, 2000, p. 28.
comme toujours, est médiatisée de telle sorte que l’expression ne soit point 18. Lire les analyses de
identique au propos tenu. Il y a fort à parier que l’esclave sommé de tenir Lorenzo Reni, La
discours par le même droit qui n’envisage pas sa parole ait peu à gagner Politica linguistica della
Rivoluzione francese,
dans l’opération. ‘Fort à parier’, ai-je écrit, car nous ne disposons que de Naples: Liguori, 1981
peu de documents sur les procès citant des Noirs. Or la chose n’est pas for- et Jacques
tuite. Fait rarissime apparemment, les archives légales des Antilles ont très Guilhaumou, La
Langue politique et la
largement été détruites en 1787, sur ordonnance du roi satisfaisant à une révolution française,
demande du Conseil souverain de la Martinique, au motif de ‘l’encombre- Paris: Méridiens
ment’ des greffes.17 A cet égard, il resterait à accomplir un grand travail de Klincksieck, 1989.
collation des bribes, membra disjecta et fragments dans les fonds qui
survécurent à la destruction légale. Je retiens ici les manœuvres d’un con-
trôle qui annule, puis redonne sous la contrainte, puis efface la parole des
esclaves.
L’ouverture d’une parole noire francophone

Maintenant, quelles que soient les divergences internes, la colonisation des
pays, des corps, des esprits et des âmes considère la langue française (ici)
comme incidente pour son projet. Le don des langues est une conséquence
babélique ou un miracle apostolique. La mise au silence absolu est
indépendante de l’idiome employé. Rien n’est propre au français. L’époque
révolutionnaire va changer ces répartitions en enracinant désormais la
colonie (via la nation) dans une langue. A cela s’ajoute pour nous la nou-
velle émergence d’une parole francophone tenue par des Noirs jusque-là
bâillonnés ou interdits.
En particulier depuis la publication du collectif Une Politique de la langue
en 1975, il est notoire que, même si d’autres options furent envisagées
en leur temps, l’unification par la langue devient un impératif républicain
sous la Terreur.18 Il vaut la peine d’y insister, le centrage idiomatique
n’était pas une obligation historique, ni l’inévitable résultat que présente
souvent le grand récit légendaire de la ‘progression du français’. La justifi-
cation apportée par Bertrand Barère devant les autres membres du Comité

19. Le rapport de Barère de Salut Public en l’an II est plus adéquate que le mythe de la linéarité.
est réédité dans Une Il s’agit pour Barère d’opérer une rupture: ‘Nous avons révolutionné le
Politique de la langue,
p. 295. gouvernement, les lois, les usages, les mœurs, les coutumes, le commerce
et la pensée même; révolutionnons donc aussi la langue, qui est leur
20. ibid., p. 297.
instrument journalier’.19 Le mot d’ordre est logiquement ‘Citoyens, la
21. ibid., p. 302 pour le langue d’un peuple libre doit être une et la même pour tous’.20 La consub-
rapport de Grégoire.
stantialité entre le régime politique et la langue est prescrite comme jamais
auparavant. La souveraineté du roi étant redonnée à la république qui est
l’unité du collectif, la pluralité doit céder. Ces nouveaux transferts relèvent
encore du théologico-politique, et l’on ne se surprend pas de lire dans le
rapport de l’abbé Grégoire, ‘avec trente patois différents, nous sommes
encore, pour le langage, à la tour de Babel’.21 Le français est la langue de
la France, un Français doit parler français. Semblables tautologies sont
acquises historiquement, et, quelles que soient les événements antérieurs
qui contribuent à les autoriser, elles émergent dans le contexte du renou-
vellement politique postérieur à 89 et d’exhaussement de la nation.
Or la Révolution est aussi le moment où des gens de couleur et des
Noirs, dans les colonies et la métropole, publient, écrivent des lettres, s’ex-
priment au-delà des cercles qui étaient les leurs dans l’Ancien régime. Or
les acteurs historiques, s’ils souhaitaient verbalement interpeller le nou-
veau pouvoir, devaient le faire en français. Et lorsque l’idiome se retrouve
un porteur essentiel et sacré de l’identité nationale, l’obligation langagière
se renforce d’un cran. Mon intention n’est pas ici d’interroger par principe
la couleur des hommes et femmes qui nous lèguent un texte en français
dans cette fin du dix-huitième siècle. Je me préoccupe d’une parole qui
construit son locuteur comme indigène, ou noir. Il n’y a donc pas de natu-
ralisme en l’occurrence. La parole noire ou l’éloquence mulâtre tirent leur
sens d’elles-mêmes, en tant que speech acts. Doit nous intéresser principale-
ment l’édification du sujet de couleur par sa diction. L’obstacle matériel
n’est pas négligeable, je l’accorde. Les cahiers de doléance, par exemple,
dans la suite automatique du pouvoir monarchique, ont presque toujours
exclu les Noirs par principe, qui ne pouvaient rien consigner, donc, de ce
qu’ils voulaient ou pouvaient dire. Les mulâtres étaient souvent des héri-
tiers, parfois riches, de colons blancs. Les ‘hommes et femmes libres de
couleur’ pouvaient aussi prospérer dans le commerce et nombre d’entre
eux possédaient aux colonies des esclaves et des terres. Cette bipartition
entre métis et Nègres marquera pour longtemps la république libre d’Haïti,
où seule la dictature de Duvalier fera vraiment émerger une durable classe
bourgeoise noire. Reproduisant le discours de domination par continuité,
profit et calcul, nombre de mulâtres auteurs publics de libelles ou pétitions
pendant la Révolution prennent fait et cause pour l’esclavage. Là aussi, les
documents restent plus ou moins épars et mériteraient un réexamen com-
plexe sur la politique des races à la fin des Lumières. Ces questions délicates
se retrouvent au cœur de plusieurs essais remarquables, qui se consacrent
à la fin de la colonie de Saint-Domingue et à sa transformation en
république indépendante d’Haïti. Je vise plutôt ici à situer un événement
dans l’ordre colonial des paroles qui est en soi plus important que les
thèses du compromis avec l’esclavagisme. Quand les mulâtres rejoignirent
des positions conservatrices, ils le firent au nom de leur ascendance
européenne. Dans la pétition de mars 1791 que les Citoyens de couleur

adressent à l’Assemblée nationale, les signataires se désignent bien 22. Henri Grégoire, Lettre
comme autres que les Blancs ou que les Noirs. Les auteurs réclament un aux Philanthropes …,
Paris: Belin, 1790,
élargissement systématique des mulâtres – dont ils écartent aussitôt les p. 3.
Nègres. Leurs motivations relèvent-elles du réalisme politique? La chose
23. Pétition nouvelle des
n’est pas impensable. Le champion de l’émancipation que fut l’abbé Citoyens de couleur des
Grégoire, un des membres de la Société des Amis des noirs, déclarait îles françoises, à
après tout que la liberté immédiate serait ‘un présent funeste’ pour les l’Assemblée nationale,
Paris: Patriote
Africains asservis.22 Le résultat reste. L’appel des mulâtres aux députés françois, 1791, p. 8.
de l’Assemblée culmine dans un grand retour de l’ancêtre blanc: ‘les Même rhétorique
blancs sont les pères, les frères des citoyens de couleur; c’est leur sang, dans Grégoire un an
plus tôt: ‘ce sont nos
c’est le sang François qui coule dans leurs veines’.23 De ce point de vue, enfans. Vos enfans, et
la prise de parole est au moins ambiguë, car le mulâtre se distingue le cœur paternel les
d’abord afin de mieux s’identifier par l’inexorable factualité de la généra- repousse’ (Lettre aux
Philanthropes, p. 17).
tion. La fraternité invoquée (‘les frères des citoyens de couleur’) appartient
au registre révolutionnaire de la naturalisation du lien politique. Aussitôt, 24. Lettre transcrite
dans Monique
l’ajout de la paternité, combinée à la métaphore du sang (qui est alors un Pouliquen éd.,
proche équivalent de ce que nous nommerions davantage race aujour- Doléances des peuples
d’hui), déplace le débat vers la politisation du lien naturel. En cette coloniaux à l’Assemblée
Nationale Constituante
périlleuse zone, le citoyen de couleur est défini par sa race et ses 1789–1790, Paris:
ancêtres, où le Blanc prime par principe sur le Noir. On reconnaît bien Archives nationales,
une des racines de la hiérarchie implicite des métissages qui sévira au 1989, p. 73.
dix-neuvième siècle et classera les ‘sangs-mêlés’ en raison inverse de la 25. Ibid. Un autre
proportion d’ascendance africaine, et, par exemple, l’octavon (un huitième commentaire de cette
lettre est à trouver
de sang noir) avant le quarteron (Nègre pour un quart). dans le très bon
Ici, donc, la prise de parole, acte a priori inédit chez des gens de couleur, ouvrage de Laurent
aura eu tendance à simplement s’effondrer. Nous parlons en tant que Dubois, A Colony of
Citizens. Revolution and
mulâtres – mais nous le devons au fait que nous sommes enfants des Slave Emancipation in
Blancs et des colons, et c’est en ce nom que nous écrivons. En ce dernier the French Caribbean,
cas donc, rien de plus normal. L’événement s’annule et ne menace plus 1787–1804, Virginia:
The University of
aucun impératif de mise au silence. Cette situation fait d’autant plus North Carolina Press,
ressortir le choc de la parole noire qui se prend dès 1789 et réclame l’abo- 2004, pp. 86 et
lition que ni ‘Amis’ officiels ni mulâtres ni colons en leur majorité n’enten- suivantes.
dent leur accorder. Le 29 août 1789, un groupe d’esclaves de la Martinique 26. Monique Pouliquen
se présente comme ‘la Nation entière des Esclaves Noirs’.24 Le terme de éd., Doléances des
peuples coloniaux …,
nation appartient à l’usage ancien, biblique, et désigne un groupe humain p. 74.
liés par une histoire et des alliances communes. Ainsi qu’on parlait de la
27. ibid., p. 74.
nation des Hébreux ou des différentes ‘nations africaines’, les signataires
de la lettre évoquent la ‘Nation blanche’ et la ‘Nation orgueilleuse’ des
mulâtres.25 Mais ces nations s’organisent au sein d’une entité qui prend le
sens de nation française. Ce que tentent ici les esclaves est comparable à la
constitution des nations indiennes aux Etats-Unis, où les sens sociaux et
politiques du terme s’entremêlent. Le moyen de cette revendication inouïe
tient à la production d’une parole, que décrit la fin de la lettre: ‘tous les
esclaves d’une voix unanime ne font qu’un cri qu’une clameur pour
réclamer une liberté qu’ils ont justement gagnée par des siècles de
souffrance et de servitude ignominieuse’.26 Toute la pétition est parcourue
par les figures de l’unanimité, de l’intégralité, de l’union, poussées à leur
paroxysme (cf. ‘la Nation entière des esclaves Noirs réunis ensemble’27). Elles
sont transformées, ou renforcées, dans l’unisson sonore. La requalification
lexicale de voix à cri puis clameur et réclamer, le polyptote dû à ces deux

28. C. L. R. James, The derniers termes, la coalescence qu’engendre l’absence de ponctuation

Black Jacobins. entre ‘qu’un cri’ et ‘qu’une clameur’, le soulignement allitératif rendent
Toussaint L’Ouverture
and the San Domingo sensible le processus de formation d’une énonciation noire. Une voix
Revolution, New York: nouvelle se forme et se fait entendre.
Random House, 1963 Avec l’émergence du locuteur collectif apparaît la figure du porte-
[2ème éd.].
parole noir. Plusieurs hommes politiques sortis de l’esclavage jouent un
29. Toussaint Louverture, rôle considérable lors de la Révolution française. CLR James écrivit dans les
Extrait du rapport …
Cap français: Roux, années 1940 un ouvrage devenu ‘classique’ (mais toujours peu lu en
1797, p. 2. France) sur les Jacobins noirs.28 Parmi eux l’un des plus marquants reste
30. ibid., pp. 5–7. Toussaint Louverture, dont la renommée historique et littéraire est
affective et constante depuis le dix-neuvième siècle. Or Toussaint n’est pas
31. ibid., p. 13.
seulement un grand militaire, un tacticien de la révolution ou un -
dictateur. Il est bien tout cela, même si l’hagiographie gomme souvent la
honteuse constitution haïtienne qu’il signa en 1801, peu avant d’être
déporté dans le Jura sur ordre de Napoléon. Mais il convient d’ajouter,
dans la perspective qui est la nôtre, que « le premier des Noirs » contribua
encore à la constitution d’un corpus en français, tenu depuis la place du
colonisé. Louverture (orthographié parfois L’Ouverture) est un surnom
dont l’origine est discutée. A défaut de consensus, je lie à dessein ce
cognomen à l’ouverture d’une parole indigène en français. Il est alors frappant
de constater la force et la variété extraordinaires des interventions de
Toussaint. Nous sont conservés de lui des lettres, des rapports, des textes
parus en libelles. Tous témoignent d’une brillante utilisation des ressources
rhétoriques et génériques du discours en cette fin du dix-huitième siècle. On
passe ici du silence ou de l’injure à la prononciation d’une parole dont
l’efficace politique passe par la mobilisation des Belles Lettres. L’Extrait du
rapport adressé au Directoire exécutif se présente ainsi comme la narration
des entrevues de Toussaint avec Sonthonax, commissaire de la république
à Saint-Domingue. Dans les deux parties, nommées ‘conférences’, le récit
use le plus souvent ce qu’il désigne comme ‘la forme du dialogue’.29 La
capacité à changer de forme selon la nature du dit marque chacun des
textes de Toussaint qui élisent puis épuisent des formes langagières. La
Réfutation d’un texte de Viénot Vaublanc est ainsi conduite à la façon d’un
commentaire de texte, d’une exégèse où le Discours de Vaublanc est
décomposé en quatorze ‘assertions’, citées avant d’être décryptées,
critiquées, contrecarrées. Loin du ton épidictique, l’Extrait renvoie autant
au dialogue socratique qu’au théâtre. Les deux personnages (Toussaint et
Sonthonax) se répondent, et l’on distinguerait sans mal certains des
moments nécessaires à la tragédie – comme l’exposition ou la catastrophe
(quand Sonthonax – Louverture dixit – propose l’indépendance de Saint-
Domingue vis-à-vis de la France.)30 Des didascalies ponctuent le texte qui
renforcent la vivacité de la scène (post) coloniale. Alors que Toussaint
dans ces indications continue d’utiliser le je, à l’occasion, une troisième
personne survient, comme cette précision sur ‘le général Toussaint:
(Avec une impatience qu’il ne pouvoit plus dissimuler)’.31 Sans vouloir
paraphraser trop fort Maurice Blanchot, je crois volontiers que ce glissement
du je au il fait entrer le politique dans l’orbite du littéraire. Toussaint est un
personnage pour lui-même et les autres. Roi de tragédie, despote et sublime,
il construisit son personnage de théâtre avant la pièce qu’écrit Lamartine en
1840 (et que nous retrouvons sous peu) ou le Monsieur Toussaint d’Edouard

Glissant (1961). A bien des égards, Toussaint Louverture favorise la 32. Il est souvent dit,
naissance de la littérature francophone. Il est à la fois le porteur d’une depuis la Révolution
même, que Toussaint
parole noire qui retentit dans l’événement poétique et, par sa critique n’est pas le véritable
répétée de l’esclavage, un pionnier de la critique du colonialisme qui auteur des textes
marquera tant le corpus du vingtième siècle (avec Albert Memmi, Frantz signés en son nom. Il
est certain qu’il fut au
Fanon, Aimé Césaire, etc.).32 moins relu, peut-être
Notre exploration du moment révolutionnaire ne se veut pas exhaustive. aidé par des locuteurs
Il s’agit plutôt ici de souligner qu’il se passe aussi quelque chose dans l’ordre natifs. Mais déclarer
Toussaint incapable
des paroles coloniales après 1789. Il se forme un corpus indécis de textes de parler et dicter
qu’articulent d’anciens esclaves ou des gens de couleurs et qui profite de la est une surprenante
sécularisation pour échapper à la simple répétition du dogme religieux. La continuation de la
phase de possession
condition théologico-politique, toutefois, reste présente, où République et coloniale faisant ici
Révolution pourraient jusqu’en un certain point remplacer l’Eglise et la du grand général une
grâce divine. Soulignons que cet ensemble de paroles n’est pas univoque; il marionnette.
en sera de même beaucoup plus tard. Ne cédons pas à la tentation d’organiser la 33. Sur la querelle
textualité dans un sens (la dénonciation absolue de l’esclavage, par exemple); historiographique
autour de la
ce serait aller trop loin, dans un sens qui, aujourd’hui, nous paraîtrait plus cérémonie du
satisfaisant politiquement. Pourtant, je retiens ce qui compte, l’avènement Bois-Caïman, lire
d’une textualité autre, lors de la première phase de la décolonisation David Patrick Geggus,
Haitian Revolutionary
moderne. Toute absolue qu’elle fût, la mise au silence dans l’Ancien Régime Studies, Bloomington:
avait du moins une contrepartie énorme; le très éventuel retournement de Indiana University
la règle autorisait une parole à la mesure de la censure. Les lettres des Press, 2002,
pp. 89–92 en
esclaves de Martinique ou les écrits de Louverture condensent maîtrise et particulier.
polyvalence discursives. Cela se fait alors en français. Il y eut, sans doute,
un usage intensif du créole lors des luttes d’indépendance. Une prière en
créole, attribuée au leader noir Boukman, fut, paraît-il, prononcée lors du
serment des rebelles au Bois-Caïman. Mais les traces de cette autre rhé-
torique sont au moins douteuses – et même l’épisode du Bois-Caïman est
incertain.33 De l’usage historique et émancipateur du créole, il nous reste
essentiellement des mots apocryphes, des bribes de citations, çà et là dans
des histoires, des récits. Parce qu’il s’agissait de converser avec le pouvoir
parisien et ses émissaires, le grand corpus de rébellion des Nègres a lieu en
français, pendant que le régime politique choisit de créer un idiome national.
La légitimation par le français est trop forte en ces années pour que se
puisse développer une grande parole dans un autre idiome (le créole ou
l’une des langues africaines parlées par les esclaves).
Il s’ensuit une situation à deux niveaux. Le souvenir des prises de
paroles francophones par Nègres ou mulâtres continuera de jouer dans le
maintien du prestige linguistique du français en Haïti, après l’indépen-
dance. Quant au second empire colonial, tout en gardant certains des
fondements théoriques de la hiérarchie des locuteurs, il va adopter des straté-
gies a priori moins massives mais inextricables, car désormais internes à la
dispensation de la langue.
Quand l’indigène parlera français

Le nouvel empire qui se constitue à partir du dix-neuvième siècle, hérite
donc des débats, des problèmes et des solutions antérieures. En particulier,
la vie publique est marquée par le passé révolutionnaire. Dans l’après-coup
de la Révolution, jusqu’à la Troisième République évidemment, la nature
théologico-politique de la doctrine linguistique n’est pas atteinte par la

34. Il n’est pas possible ici sécularisation, ni la laïcisation.34 L’argument majoritaire change en
de rappeler tout le revanche. Le corps de la nation tient la place de celui du Christ. Le Verbe
débat sur la
rémanence du divin, pour les missions apostoliques, unifiait la diversité des langues. Dans
théologique jusque la nouvelle France théologico-politique, ce Verbe ne peut plus être que le
dans la pratique français, un idiome devenu naturellement transcendant.
politique dite
moderne. Il suffit de Dans les controverses des années 1880 et 90 sur l’éducation et les
mentionner que la colonies, l’apprentissage de la langue nationale s’impose comme la
position d’une position majoritaire. Le modèle apostolique persiste dans la plupart des
paradoxale affinité
entre la structure missions religieuses; et ce justement parce qu’elles refusent le transfert de
religieuse et le transcendance. Je m’intéresse plutôt aux attitudes qui s’affrontent non sur
pouvoir (post) la nécessité mais sur la possibilité d’inculquer le français aux colonisés.
révolutionnaire se
trouve dans la Certains, dont la position ne vaincra point, théorisent l’incompatibilité
discussion raciale. C’est le credo de Gustave Le Bon, clamé haut et fort au Congrès
que suscitent en colonial de 1889.35 ‘Des races différentes ne sauraient longtemps parler la
Allemagne les thèses
de Max Weber au même langue.’36 La faculté d’expression chez les indigènes est un leurre,
début du vingtième un ‘vernis provisoire’,37 car les hommes sont voués par la race à répéter
siècle. Voir, dans Max les mots de leurs anciens.
Weber, par exemple la
coexistence du charisme
et de la rationalisation La race doit donc être considérée comme un être permanent, affranchi du
bureaucratique temps. Cet être permanent est composé non seulement des individus
(Gesammelte Werke,
Tübingen: JCB Mohr, vivants qui le constituent à un moment donné, mais aussi de la longue
vol. 22–4, 2005, pp. série des morts qui furent les ancêtres. […] Infiniment plus nombreux que
481–533) – et deux les vivants, les morts sont infiniment plus puissants qu’eux. Ils régissent
théories opposées du
théologico-politique, l’immense domaine de l’inconscient, cet invisible domaine qui tient sous
chez Walter Benjamin son empire toutes les manifestations de l’intelligence et du caractère.38
(entre autres
Gesammelte Schriften,
Francfort: Sukrkamp, La race, aussi inconsciente qu’inexpugnable, insère chaque individu dans
vol. 6, 1985, une continuité macabre. Nous ne sommes jamais que les mannequins d’un
pp. 100–03) et Carl passé ventriloque. Le principe de possession et d’envoûtement par les morts
Schmitt (Politische
Theologie. Vier Kapitel ne s’arrête pas à la colonie. Mais il désigne que le véritable empire sur les
zur Lehre der êtres n’a rien à voir avec les fonctionnaires de l’empire français d’outre-
Souveränität, Munich mer. Les indigènes sont régis par leur complexion et leur histoire qui a
& Leipzig: Dunkler &
Humboldt, 1922). construit leurs corps, leurs esprits. Sous le vernis, la fatalité raciale dirige.
Le problème est Partant, Le Bon nie par principe qu’un Noir, par exemple, puisse parler
aujourd’hui prégnant français. S’il semble y arriver, la signification des mots qu’il emploie
dans l’œuvre de
Jacques Derrida demeure configurée par l’hérédité et ne relève en rien du sémantisme de la
(cf. Foi et savoir, Paris: langue: ‘lorsque des peuples sont différents, les mots considérés chez eux
Seuil, 2000). Dans comme correspondants représentent des modes de penser et de sentir
tous les cas, il
convient de distinguer tellement éloignés qu’en réalité leurs langues n’ont pas de synonymes et
entre la structure que la traduction de l’une à l’autre est impossible.’39 Cet obstacle interne à
théologique du la communication réelle entre des langues diverses empêche toute acquisi-
pouvoir et les
politiques données: tion authentique d’un idiome séparée par la race. Soit le colonisé devient
l’anticléricalisme une marionnette manipulée par deux forces. La bouche profère des mots
‘éclairé’ sacrifie à une français, le sens réel du discours reste déterminé par une pensée indigène,
mystique de la nation
laïque. que le passage dans un nouveau dialecte rend inaccessible. Soit les
indigènes s’amassent et changent le français de l’intérieur, comme autrefois
les Gaulois avaient transformé le latin.40 Cette hypothèse manque de
probabilité toutefois, à cause de l’infériorité des peuples conquis. Le Bon
croit davantage à une grande dégénérescence, s’étendant sur le monde.
L’âge est à ‘la décadence des races’.41 Le Bon se rattache donc au modèle

babélique de la condamnation des hommes dans leurs divisions. Il trouve 35. Cf. Gustave Le Bon,
même la confusion en chaque langue. La race se venge d’être délaissée ‘Influence de
l’éducation et des
par une expansion nationale irrespectueuse de ses principes, et prolonge institutions
l’arrêt de Yahveh. européennes sur les
En matière linguistique, le dogme républicain, que Le Bon critique, populations indigènes
des colonies’, Revue
écartera d’abord la figure du Dieu vengeur. La France est dispensatrice. scientifique (Revue
Puisque son verbe est sa langue, elle ne reproduira pas tel quel l’épisode rose), 24 août 1889,
glossolalique des Actes. Il reste parfois le vestige du don des langues pp. 225–37.
étrangères pour une partie restreinte des apôtres de la mission civilisatrice – 36. Gustave Le Bon, Les
voir la figure du savant, dont le langage ultime pourrait être la Science. Lois psychologiques de
l’évolution des peuples,
Mais, pour l’essentiel, le don de langue sera celui du colonial au colonisé. Paris: Alcan, 1894, p.
Le français illumine l’esprit indigène à la manière de la grâce. On observe 92.
quelquefois des prodiges. Un Noir habité par le français, qui s’est si bien 37. Gustave Le Bon,
laissé envoûter par la civilisation, un miracle. En 1840, Lamartine, avant Psychologie politique et
de signer la seconde abolition de l’esclavage, avait commis un Toussaint la défense sociale, Paris:
Les Amis de Gustave
Louverture, qu’il jugeait une ‘œuvre politique’, pas ‘une œuvre Le Bon, 1984 [rééd.
littéraire’.42 Dans ce drame étrange, Toussaint parle un français noble, du livre de 1911], p.
sublime. Loin de la relecture vaudouisante des succès du Premier des 211.
Noirs, Lamartine, selon sa propre poétique religieuse, trouve en Toussaint 38. Le Bon, Lois
un grand inspiré, comme ‘Moïse, Romulus, Mahomet, Washington! …’43 psychologiques …, pp.
14–15.
L’élu est à la fois propagateur d’un idéal sacré et du pouvoir temporel. Le
chef des rebelles s’adresse directement à Dieu, ‘Oui, tu m’as suscité sur 39. ibid., p. 93.
cette nation.’44 Quand il dit aux Blancs venus arrêter son œuvre les griefs 40. ibid., p. 92.
qu’ont les Noirs contre la France, l’un des auditeurs s’exclame ‘Quel 41. C’est le titre du livre
langage!’45 La fable laïque, plus tardive, admirerait à égalité l’incroyable IV du même ouvrage
parole de l’indigène francophone venu de Tombouctou. Citons une de Le Bon.
survivance (en 2005), le qualificatif journalistique de ‘fils prodige’ pour 42. Alphonse de
mon ancien camarade d’Ecole normale Louis-Georges Tin, cet Antillais Lamartine, Toussaint
Louverture, in Œuvres
(descendant du premier Empire colonial), agrégé des lettres qui complètes, vol. 22,
chercherait à ‘prouver à tous qu’il est bien un vrai Noir.’46 Bien sûr, Paris: ‘chez l’auteur’,
l’expression de ‘fils prodige’, jouant sur les mots, rappelle le contexte 1863, p. 3.
évangélique de la parabole du ‘fils prodigue’. Il faut donc croire qu’il 43. ibid., acte II,
demeure une part de grâce inexplicable, due plus ou moins à la présence scène 1, p. 41.
réelle de la France en Martinique. 44. ibid., acte II,
Les hommes politiques, les pédagogues du Congrès colonial de 1889 scène 1, p. 41.
concèdent certainement la surnature. Ils en respectent même tellement 45. ibid., acte III,
l’anormalité qu’ils n’entendent pas compter sur elle. Un des orateurs du scène 9, p. 98.
Congrès colonial défendra l’enseignement du français pour les Indochinois 46. Sophie des Déserts,
par son refus d’anticiper la fécondation miraculeuse des esprits: ‘L’homme du CRAN’,
Le Nouvel Observateur,
15 décembre 2005.
Enfin, qui a donc parlé d’une sorte d’opération du Saint-Esprit qui ferait
subitement renoncer le peuple annamite à sa langue? J’ai dit expressément et 47. Recueil des délibérations
du Congrès colonial
je répète que, pour cette oeuvre gigantesque, l’implantation de notre langue national, vol. 2
en Indo-Chine, oeuvre qui seule justifiera la conquête, qui seule en assurera Rapport des
les résultats immenses, il fallait compter sur trois générations, peut-être plus, commissaires.
Documents annexes,
peut-être moins, selon le degré d’habileté des conquérants.47 Paris: Librairie
des Annales
Cette sortie d’Etienne Aymonier vaut d’autant plus qu’elle s’accorde à un économiques, 1890,
p. 330. Je souligne.
rejet de la méthode utilisée auparavant par les congrégations religieuses
en Indochine, qui avaient inventé une transcription à partir de caractères

48. Sur ce dernier point, latins et signes diacritiques (le quoc-ngu) et privilégié la langue locale.
voir en particulier Aymonier rend ici compte du projet linguistique que la Troisième
Linda Lehmil,
‘L’édification d’un République se prend alors à former en dépit des divergences et scepti-
enseignement pour cismes: il faut organiser une grâce ordinaire par l’enseignement du
les indigènes: français. Le maintien d’une foi (même tacite) dans le miracle français crée
Madagascar et
l’Algérie dans cependant une ambiguïté. L’élection relativise l’instruction.
l’Empire français’, Je perçois là une des causes du grand écart entre le volontarisme dis-
Labyrinthe. Atelier cursif et les retards dans l’éducation linguistique aux colonies. Le faible
interdisciplinaire, 24,
2006-2, pp. 91–112. taux de scolarisation dans l’Empire par rapport au territoire européen est
l’un des symptômes de cette auto-négation de l’enseignement. On devrait
49. Frantz Fanon, Peau
noire, masques blancs, mentionner aussi l’invention du français réduit, que prônait Faidherbe, et
Paris: Seuil, 1952, tous les choix comparables de troncature de la langue à destination des
titre du chapitre 1. indigènes. On pourrait ajouter enfin que les instructions officielles ont
Notons au passage
que même Fanon toujours prévu moins d’heures de français à l’école primaire pour les
entérine la doctrine indigènes que pour les Français de métropole.48 Cette distinction est
républicaine et fait du frappante et fait contraste entre l’oppression classique à l’encontre des
créole un patois.
langues régionales et le système pédagogique pour indigènes. Un Breton
50. Louis-Jean Calvet, doit subir les réprimandes du hussard noir, et abjurer son patois, afin de
Linguistique et colonial-
isme. Petit Traité de renaître à la France par l’idiome national. Un Antillais attendra plutôt
glottophagie, Paris: l’action de la grâce, ordinaire ou pas; a-t-il à y gagner? Interrogeant le rap-
Payot, 1974. port entre ‘le Noir et le langage’, Frantz Fanon comparait Bretagne et
Caraïbes.49 Doit-on vraiment trouver une séparation entre la négation des
langues régionales, le mépris du particularisme provincial et la situation
linguistique coloniale? Fanon rapproche et sépare, estimant que la préten-
due infériorité de race sauve finalement les Bretons … et perd les Noirs. Le
linguiste Louis-Jean Calvet a nommé glottophagie cette espèce de cannibal-
isme de l’idiome local opéré au profit du français.50 En particulier sous la
Troisième République, Bretons, Basques, Maghrébins ou Indochinois
auraient vécu l’attaque glottophage. Ils furent sommés de passer au
français et de renoncer à leurs parlers (s’ils ne l’avaient fait auparavant).
Mais il faut ajouter (dans la lignée de Fanon et outre la possible comparai-
son) que ce français n’était pas le même en fonction de l’énonciateur, et de son
appartenance à l’empire ou non.
En reconstruisant les spécificités historiques dans l’analyse de la parole,
on aura compris que je cherche une remotivation du mot usé mais
indispensable de francophonie. La résolution par les colonisés des interdits
successifs de l’empire est une franco-phonie, soit l’élévation d’une nouvelle
voix (phonê) passant par le français qu’un usage colonial avait mis à part ou
miné. Cette signification, maximaliste, est contenue dans la revendication
francophoniste des années dix neuf cent soixante, quand des chefs d’Etat
d’anciennes colonies demandèrent l’organisation d’institutions liées
géographiquement à l’ancien empire mais conceptuellement à l’idiome. Il
va pourtant de soi que le mot de francophonie peut aussi appeler d’autres
sens: la poursuite d’une identification théologico-politique entre Verbe et
nation, la volonté de contrôler le recours à l’idiome, la mise au point de
nouveaux champs de pouvoir, etc. La parole francophone, contre le babil
impérial, a permis l’organisation de la francophonie, qui, néanmoins, se
révèle aussi à l’origine d’un langage conventionnel second, autre bruit de
fond, autre jargon d’institution. C’est qu’on ne parle jamais une fois pour
toutes. Une parole francophone résonne depuis l’ouverture du discours de

l’esclave noir qui retentit à la fin du dix-huitième siècle. La transgression

parlée de l’ordre colonial est ainsi impliquée, malgré toutes les tentatives
de réfection subreptice. Ce qui nécessite une construction ou une
destitution de l’indigénat (de l’asservissement, du racialisme) par l’énoncé.
Ou la francophonie contre l’ordre des paroles, en excès, toujours.
Références
Benjamin, Walter (1985), Gesammelte Schriften, 6, Francfort: Suhrkamp.
Calvet, Louis-Jean (1974), Linguistique et colonialisme. Petit Traité de glottophagie,
Paris: Payot.
Certeau, Michel de, Julia, Dominique, Revel, Jacques éd. (1975), Une Politique de la
langue, Paris: Gallimard.
Derrida, Jacques (2000), Foi et savoir, Paris: Seuil.
Déserts, Sophie des (2005), ‘L’Homme du CRAN’, Le Nouvel Observateur, 15 décembre
2005.
Dubois, Laurent (2004), A Colony of Citizens. Revolution and Slave Emancipation in the
French Caribbean, 1787–1804, Virginia: The University of North Carolina Press.
Fanon, Frantz (1952), Peau noire, masques blancs, Paris: Seuil.
Geggus, David Patrick (2002), Haitian Revolutionary Studies, Bloomington: Indiana
University Press.
Grégoire, Henri (1790), Lettre aux Philanthropes sur les malheurs, les droits et les récla-
mations des gens de couleur de Saint-Domingue et des autres îles françoises de
l’Amérique, Paris: Belin.
Guilhaumou, Jacques (1989), La Langue politique et la révolution française, Paris:
Méridiens Klincksieck.
James, C. L. R. (1963), The Black Jacobins. Toussaint L’Ouverture and the San Domingo
Revolution, New York: Random House.
The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents (1897), 1, Acadia: 1610–1613, Cleveland:
The Burrows Brothers.
The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents (1897), 5, Québec: 1632–1633, Cleveland:
The Burrows Brothers.
Lamartine, Alphonse de (1863), Toussaint Louverture, in Œuvres complètes, 22,
Paris: ‘chez l’auteur’.
Le Bon, Gustave (1889), ‘Influence de l’éducation et des institutions européennes
sur les populations indigènes des colonies’, Revue scientifique (Revue rose),
24 août 1889, pp. 225–37.
—— (1894), Les Lois psychologiques de l’évolution des peuples, Paris: Alcan.
—— (1984), Psychologie politique et la défense sociale, Paris: Les Amis de Gustave Le Bon.
Lehmil, Linda (2006), ‘L’édification d’un enseignement pour les indigènes:
Madagascar et l’Algérie dans l’Empire français’, Labyrinthe. Atelier interdisci-
plinaire, 24, pp. 91–112.
Li, Shenwen (2001), Stratégies missionnaires des jésuites français en Nouvelle-France et
en Chine au XVIIe siècle, Saint-Nicolas/Paris: Presses de l’Université Laval/
L’Harmattan.
Louverture, Toussaint (1797), Extrait du Rapport adressé au Directoire exécutif par le
citoyen Toussaint Louverture, général en chef des forces de la République française à
Saint-Domingue, Le Cap: Roux.
—— (s. d.), Réfutation de quelques assertions d’un discours prononcé au Corps législatif,
le 10 prairial an V, par Vienot-Vaublanc.

Monumenta Missionum Societatis Iesu (1950), 5, Missiones Orientales. Documenta

Indica II (1550–1553), Rome: Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu.
Pétition nouvelle des Citoyens de couleur des îles françoises, à l’Assemblée nationale
(1791), Paris: Patriote françois.
Pouliquen, Monique éd. (1989), Doléances des peuples coloniaux à l’Assemblée
Nationale Constituante 1789–1790, Paris: Archives nationales.
Recueil des délibérations du Congrès colonial national (1890), 2, Rapport des commis-
saires. Documents annexes, Paris: Librairie des Annales économiques.
Reni, Lorenzo (1981), La Politica linguistica della Rivoluzione francese, Naples:
Liguori.
Rochmann, Marie-Christine éd. (2000), Esclavage et abolitions, Mémoires et systèmes
de représentation, Paris: Karthala.
Sala-Molins Louis (2002), Le Code noir ou Le Calvaire de Canaan, Paris: Presses
universitaires de France.
Schmitt, Carl (1922), Politische Theologie. Vier Kapitel zur Lehre der Souveränität,
Munich & Leipzig: Dunkler & Humboldt.
Weber, Max (2005), Gesammelte Werke, 22–4 Herrschaft, Tübingen: JCB Mohr.
Suggested citation
Dubreuil, L. (2007), ‘Don du français et parole (post) coloniale’, International Journal
of Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 345–358, doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.345/1
Contributor details
Laurent is the director of the French Studies Program and an Assistant Professor
of French and Francophone literatures at Cornell University. His research focuses
on the literary response to the disciplines of knowledge. Working in several differ-
ent fields, he made a recent contribution to postcolonial studies in France by edit-
ing a special issue of the journal Labyrinthe (no. 24, 2006) entitled ‘Faut-il être
postcolonial ?’ [Should We Be Postcolonial]. In 2008, he will publish his second
book, a study on language and social prescription in the French colonial empire.
Contact: Department of Romance Studies & French Studies Program, 303 Morrill
Hall, Cornell University, 14853–4701 Ithaca, NY, USA.
E-mail: ld79@cornell.edu

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© 2007 Intellect Ltd.
Between nostalgia and desire: l’Ecole

d’Alger’s transnational identifications and
the case for a Mediterranean relation
Edwige Tamalet Talbayev University of California
Abstract Keywords
This article examines the transnational forms of cultural affiliation and Albert Camus
Mediterranean margin-to-margin circuits of production with which l’Ecole Edouard Glissant
d’Alger (here, Audisio and Camus) experimented in the 1930s, and highlights Gabriel Audisio
new theoretical perspectives appropriate to these practices. The authors’ use of a globalization
mythicized Mediterranean as a unifying trope downplays national and religious history
differences to the benefit of a common utopian identity both cosmopolitan in Mediterranean
nature and generative of a regional awareness which runs counter to dominant (post)colonialism
colonial segregationist discourses. Descendants of immigrants from throughout postcolonial theory
the Mediterranean, these writers occupy a unique positionality which enables relational theories
them to open new spaces for identification and articulate anti-fascist stances as transnationalism
well as a limited critique of colonial practices. These writers’ imaginative affilia-
tions spell out a transnational position, which calls for regional areas of study to
be considered autonomously. Attention to regional spaces would constructively
displace analytical models where the theoretical existence of marginal spaces is
but a by-product of their necessary relation to the metropole. The recognition of
margin-to-margin relations leaves room for théories de la Relation in keeping
with Glissant’s paradigm, thereby showing how, in a global decentred paradigm,
relational theories from the margins can provide viable alternative frameworks.
Résumé
Cet article examine les formes alternatives d’affiliations culturelles développées
par l’Ecole d’Alger (ici, Audisio et Camus) dans les années 1930. Le recours à
une Méditerranée mythique et transnationale qui transcenderait les clivages
nationaux et religieux met l’accent sur une identité commune pour tous
les Méditerranéens, une identité cosmopolite génératrice d’une appartenance régionale
qui va à l’encontre des discours ségrégationnistes coloniaux. Descendants d’immi-
grés originaires de diverses régions méditerranéennes, ces auteurs occupent une
position unique au-delà des polarités colonisateur/colonisé qui leur permet de
concevoir de nouveaux espaces identitaires et d’articuler des positions antifas-
cistes ainsi qu’une critique limitée des pratiques coloniales. Les affiliations
imaginaires de ces auteurs développent une conception transnationale de la
Méditerranée qui préconise un modèle d’études postcoloniales qui n’aurait pas
pour seule perspective l’inéluctable relation que l’ex-colonie entretient avec son
ex-metropole. Une telle méthode pourrait fournir une alternative fructueuse à des

1. See Winifred modèles analytiques qui ne considéreraient les espaces périphériques qu’au sein
Woodhull, d’une relation inégale avec l’Europe. Le principe de relations entre périphéries
‘Postcolonial thought
and culture in affranchies d’un quelconque rapport avec la métropole ouvre le champ aux
Francophone North théories de la Relation inspirées de Glissant qui, à l’âge de la mondialisation et
Africa’, in Charles d’une vision décentrée du monde, peuvent constituer de viables alternatives
Forsdick and David
Murphy (eds), théoriques.
Francophone
Postcolonial Studies, a In adapting postcolonial studies to the context of a globalized world,
Critical Introduction,
London: Arnold, critics have been increasingly calling into question the adequacy of theo-
2003, pp. 211–20. retical approaches considering ex-colonial spaces individually and only
through a necessary one-to-one relation to the former metropole. While
postcolonial studies were in many ways founded on the elaboration of a
critique of colonial binarism and a reconfiguration of the colonial hier-
archy established between the metropole and its ex-colonies, recent
scholarship has paid particular attention to transnational comparative
frameworks where entire regions have to be configured as unified objects
of study, be they centred on language groups (the francophone world, for
instance) or on a common history (the black Atlantic). Such a regional
approach was also fundamental in early conceptions of North African
identities and cultures. Major authors such as Assia Djebar and Tahar Ben
Jelloun have deconstructed the France–North Africa dyad in their writ-
ings, striving to multiply connections between Maghrebi culture as a
whole and other European traditions.1 In addition, influential postcolonial
Maghrebi criticism of the past 25 years has set out to configure North
African culture as distinct from both the French colonial model and later,
state-sponsored nationalistic configurations of the Maghreb as Arabic
only. Works such as Abdelkebir Khatibi’s Maghreb Pluriel (1983), for
instance, moved away from both colonial and nationalist frameworks to
emphasize the residual Mediterranean cultural elements underlying
Maghrebi culture, thereby bringing to the fore the distinctive historical
intermingling of cultures in the area. Khatibi’s conception fruitfully pre-
sented North Africa as a mosaic of cultures resulting from simultaneous
waves of conquests and occupations. Such a paradigm can profitably be
extended to the whole Mediterranean, thereby underscoring the dynamics
of exchange and communication that tied the Maghreb to a variety of
locations throughout the Mediterranean during successive colonial experi-
ences preceding the 130 years of French colonization – the Roman,
Arabic, Ottoman conquests, on the one hand, and also the conquest of
Spain and parts of Southern Europe by the Arabs and certain Berber
groups on the other.
In keeping with that regional framework and in the aim of moving
beyond the North–South antagonism between Europe and North Africa in
our global era, this article aims to reconfigure the Mediterranean as a
strategic space of exchange and collaboration between its northern and
southern shores. Decades of French, British and Italian colonization of the
Mediterranean’s southern shore in the name of civilization stand at the
origin of the opposition and exploitation governing many significant
aspects of dealings between Europe and its orientalized other.
Discriminatory political measures demarcated with precision the space
that each community (French and Muslim) was to occupy within colonial
360 Edwige Tamalet Talbayev

society, thus making segregation and confinement the logic of colonial 2. For the sake of
policy-making. The polarization of the colonizer and the colonized, a con- historical accuracy, it
is nevertheless impor-
figuration on which all subsequent relations were to be based, ensured the tant to note that,
perpetuation of such a dichotomy into our postcolonial period. Finding in the late 1930s,
alternative historical patterns of identification within the Mediterranean Algerian nationalists
had only recently
beyond the two poles of colonizer and colonized therefore carries with it envisioned
potential in a global context where new relational configurations of independence from
regional spaces may offer fruitful alternatives to the colonial-inspired pri- the metropole as
the only adequate
macy of the metropole/European centre with regard to which the Third solution to the
World can only stand as marginal and derivative. The option of multiple/ colonial situation. Up
regional identifications and margin-to-margin networks of production and to the failure of the
1936 Blum-Violette
collaboration thus open up new cultural spaces that offer a corrective to bill, which aimed to
the failures of postcolonial global relations between centres and periph- endow certain
eries. At the beginning of the twentieth century, Algérianiste conceptions, categories of Muslims
with French
which will be analyzed in greater detail later, already conceived of France citizenship and its
and Algeria as organically tied. Yet, their emphasis on native Berbers as privileges, Algerian
the only legitimate North African people downplayed the importance of intellectuals, such as
Ferhat Abbas, had
successive waves of Muslim conquests, be they Arabic or Turkish. Berbers, been calling for
who were believed to descend from Indo-Europeans, thus were seen as the greater equality
historical heirs to North African ‘original’ culture – the Roman Christian between the two
communities in an
one, a conception which ignored centuries of Islamic influence and con- Algeria that they
doned French colonization as the legitimate repossession of Christian land. hoped would be
Less prone to revert to underlying polarization in this way was l’Ecole d’Alger, ‘départementalisée’,
i.e. administratively
which during the inter-war period appeared more open to proteiform modes integrated into the
of syncretism. French public space
on a par with its
other regions. Their
A fruitful failure hope for success had
L’Ecole d’Alger was a literary movement that emerged in the Algerian capi- been fueled by their
tal in the late 1930s as a utopian humanistic response to the colonial unremitting faith
in the French
racialized discourses of modernity that had been mobilized in the colonies government in Paris,
to facilitate the institutionalization of the French colonial presence and which they dissociated
associated patterns of segregation. Those writers’ use of the Mediterranean from the colonial
French administration
as a unifying trope downplayed race and religious differences to the benefit ruled by settlers’
of a common transnational identity both cosmopolitan in nature and gen- interests. The
erative of regional awareness. My analysis will intentionally focus on the rejection of the
Blum-Violette bill
two main founders of the movement’s philosophy, Gabriel Audisio and by the French
Albert Camus. Their large theoretical output, which included essays and parliament therefore
speeches, will be privileged to the detriment of most of their fictional marked the end of
their confidence in a
writings. Due to space constraints, only writings by these two authors will possible egalitarian
be considered. Other contributors, such as Emmanuel Roblès or Jean collaboration between
Amrouche, for instance, were however no less important. In considering the two peoples and
pushed them towards
their fruitful imaginative conception of social relations in the colonial con- more radical
text, an alternative articulated at the apex of modernity in the key decade nationalist ideals,
of the 1930s; it is imperative to note that the movement’s reconfiguration paving the way for
independence.
of the colonial order was mostly utopian and was outrun by the course of
events. Their lack of anti-colonial activism, for instance, which has been
understandably condemned by critics, undoubtedly constitutes the main
limit of their argument.2 Although the authors systematically denounced
the segregation at work in colonial society, they paradoxically never advo-
cated the end of colonization, a system that ‘needs’ segregation to survive.
Between nostalgia and desire: l’Ecole d’Alger’s transnational… 361

Moreover, their relativization of colonialism, which was envisioned as the

historical standard for the area, undermined their utopian call for absolute
equality between North Africa and Europe. Their attempts at changing
the order of things therefore remained inadequate and at odds with the real-
ities of colonial rule. Their reluctance to oppose colonization made their
position untenable, especially in the context of exacerbated polarization
ushered in by the Algerian war of independence and sealed the failure of
their mythical reformative scheme, which, in some instances, seems to have
been incapable to resist the very colonial dynamics of segregation that it
had set out to oppose. In this respect, it is important to remark that both
Camus and Audisio seem at times to have sensed the limit that the reality of
colonial hierarchy set to their project and that segregation came to rever-
berate on their arguments in a dynamics that could evoke the return of the
colonial repressed. This inability to successfully adapt itself to the reality of
colonialism, however, does not in any way minimize the potential of l’Ecole
d’Alger’s project for our purpose.
Reconfiguring the Mediterranean as a cultural centre in its own right,
l’Ecole d’Alger opened up the colonial space of Algeria, which had hitherto
only been configured as peripheral with regards to the metropole, and
integrated it into a pan-Mediterranean backdrop. By redefining the north-
ern Mediterranean, which had been discursively configured as Christian
and exclusively European by restrictive colonial ideologies, the movement’s
endeavours resulted in a genuine disruption of the rationale of hierarchi-
cal segregation in the colonial space, albeit on the discursive level only. I
will focus on the transnational alternative forms of historical and cultural
affiliation, and Mediterranean margin-to-margin circuits of production in
which l’Ecole d’Alger engaged and highlight new theoretical perspectives
appropriate to these practices. Their reconsideration of polarized under-
standings of the colonial Mediterranean appears to be particularly produc-
tive in the context of our postcolonial era, if only to help us find productive
alternatives to most socio-political approaches to multiculturalism in the
French national context, approaches still predominantly conditioned by a
logic of resentment directly inherited from the rigid, binary dynamics of
the colonial period that culminated in the Algerian war. By articulating
their concept of a transcontinental Mediterranean identity around the critique
of hierarchy, the authors associated with the l’Ecole d’Alger also helped to
desegregate the concept of modernity, at the same time making an argu-
ment in favour of culturally specific forms of the modern that need to be
considered in and of themselves rather than in relation to an exterior cul-
tural standard. The argument elaborated in the 1930s is still of great rele-
vance in our globalized age owing to its advocacy of a transnational
regional paradigm that could be duplicated on the global level. It thus par-
allels relational theories, such as Edouard Glissant’s théories de la Relation,
which provide a compelling theoretical substitute for First World versus
Third World hierarchized conceptions of our global world.
Imaginative disruptions of the colonial discursive

During the late 1930s, at the apex of the implementation of colonial
modernity, a group of writers descending from various Mediterranean cul-
tures emerged in the Algerian capital in a movement that was to be

known as l’Ecole d’Alger. It should be noted that l’Ecole d’Alger (also called 3. See Jamil M. Abun-
Ecole Nord-Africaine des Lettres) in no way constitutes a unified literary Nasr, A History of the
Maghreb, Cambridge:
movement. It was so identified years after most of its members had been Cambridge University
scattered throughout France, and this very designation was refuted by Press, 1971, p. 256.
Albert Camus and Emmanuel Roblès, two of its most eminent members. 4. In 1930, Audisio’s
For the purpose of this article, however, we will disregard legitimate cri- La vie de Haroun-al-
tiques as to the somewhat incorrect appellation and use it to refer to the Raschid was
published by
set of writings by Camus and Audisio that elaborated the theoretical and Gallimard. Berger-
political stances of the movement. The main contributors to this move- Levrault published
ment coalesced around the figure of Edmond Charlot, the founder of the his Hannibal in 1961.
Al-Raschid was the
Editions Charlot, whose collection ‘Méditerranéennes’ through its focus on late eighth century
the celebration of (pan-)Mediterranean culture served as a locus of dia- fifth Abbasid caliph
logue for a nexus of authors with otherwise quite diverse interests. It is in in Baghdad.
the small bookshop/library ‘Les vraies richesses’ owned by Charlot that 5. Cagayous was a
Albert Camus met in 1937 with Gabriel Audisio, in those days the most working-class
picaresque hero of
celebrated writer of French Algeria (and the only one published in the Algiers’s folklore
metropole). Since the onset of French colonization, successive waves of known for his
immigrants from the northern Mediterranean had settled in French North colourful vocabulary
and his impudence.
Africa. Maltese, Corsicans, Catalans, Provençal French, Spaniards and Originally from Bab-
Italians, for instance, constituted a non-negligible part of the early coloniz- el-Oued, one of the
ers of French Algeria. It was not until 1896 that Algerian-born Europeans poorest
neighbourhoods in
outnumbered foreign-born immigrants, which made Algeria a land of Algiers, he is the
immigration par excellence.3 Authors, such as Audisio and Camus, shared epitome of pied-noir
similar transnational Mediterranean origins. Gabriel Audisio was born to (French colonist)
vitality and boldness.
a Piedmontese father and a Niçoise mother in Marseille although the fam- Pataouète was the
ily moved to North Africa soon after his birth. Early in his career, he evinced hybrid dialect spoken
a strong interest in historical figures that united the Mediterranean: his by the communities in
Bab-el-Oued and is a
research on Mediterranean conquerors from the whole Latin and non- blend of ‘French,
Latin Mediterranean resulted in the publication of two books on Hannibal Arabic, Italian,
and Haroun-al-Raschid, the leader of many expeditions launched against Spanish, Maltese, and
more’ (Gabriel
the Roman Empire in the Eastern Mediterranean.4 In a similar vein, his Audisio, Algérie,
anthology of the tales of Cagayous followed by a glossary of pataouète5 Méditerranée, feux
betrayed a fascination with the Mediterranean hybridity that such a popular vivants, Paris:
Rougerie, 1957,
dialect evinced. After his French father’s death, Albert Camus was raised p. 29). See also
by his mother’s Balearic family. He never seemed to master any other lan- Musette, Cagayous
guage than French, but his lack of linguistic skills was largely compensated (textes recueillis par
Gabriel Audisio),
by his passion for Spanish (in particular, Andalusian) culture. Through his Paris: Balland, 1972.
veneration of Iberian culture, Camus acknowledged and cultivated another
layer of identity, one that proved irreducible to pied-noir or metropolitan
Frenchness, no matter what his situation with regard to French citizenship
and its prerogatives.
It is from this very irreducibility to monolithic categories that the
authors’ identity springs, culturally but also in terms of class. Endowed with
the privilege of citizenship, unlike the Muslim subalterns, they nevertheless
belonged to underclass backgrounds. Southern European ethnicity and a
working-class background oftentimes seemed to go hand in hand, both
denying them equality with the ruling land-owning French elite. Standing
in between the main two communities, their vision of the colonial situation
(and, beyond that, of the hegemonic discourses associated with it) therefore
goes beyond the dominant discursive framing of French colonial society and

6. See Frédéric-Jacques opens new spaces for identification – that of a mythical pan-Mediterranean
Temple, ‘Souvenirs identity that, in a humanistic fashion, would transcend national and reli-
d’Edmond Charlot’
in Audisio, Camus, gious divisions. The early decision to include in their circle Muslim writers,
Roblès, frères de such as Mouloud Feraoun and Mohammed Dib, who would later play a cru-
soleil- leurs combats, cial role in the development of a national postcolonial literature, enabled
Rencontres
Mediterranéennes them to mark out a distinctive position vis-à-vis colonizer–colonized polari-
Albert Camus, Paris: ties. Prominent members of l’Ecole d’Alger proved to be strong supporters of
Edisud, 2003, Muslim Algerian authors: for instance, it was Charlot who published
pp. 127–42.
Mouloud Feraoun’s first novel, Le fils du Pauvre (Editions Rivages). Moreover,
7. Gabriel Audisio, the influence of the movement on the following generation of Algerian writ-
Jeunesse de la
Méditerranée, Paris: ers has been commonly noted. Publisher Edmond Charlot thus claimed in
Gallimard. 1935 an interview with Frédéric-Jacques Temple, a lesser known member of l’Ecole
d’Alger, that Mouloud Feraoun decided to start writing after reading Roblès’
novels.6 Charlot also reported that the treatment of the colonized figure seen
in Roblès’ fiction fascinated Feraoun. Roblès initiated the publication of
important works of early postcolonial Algerian literature. As the head of Le
Seuil’s ‘Méditerranée’ collection, he published authors such as Nabile Farès,
Tahar Djaout and Mohammed Dib, all of whom were to become some of the
most prominent writers of independent Algeria.
Audisio’s hybrid ‘eternal Mediterranean’

Let us now turn to the forms that this reconfiguration of colonial relations
took in the authors’ writings. Gabriel Audisio was chronologically the first
of the group to develop an interest in the cultural interaction brought
about by the colonial encounter. Because cultural mixing had been a con-
stant in the history of the region, Audisio offered a vision of the
Mediterranean which construed Algeria not as a nationalized space but
rather as a local space that would only gain significance as part of a
greater region. The main feature of the Mediterranean land and its people
was, he suggested, its hybridity. A sound analysis of this hybridity can be
found in the opening pages of Jeunesse de la Méditerranée- ‘Les Deux portes de
la mer’.7 Significantly, the essay starts with a poetic description of sailors
sleeping on a ship deck. The intertwined bodies trigger musings about the
possibility of human brotherhood as the idealized egalitarian, cosmopoli-
tan group of sailors is perceived as the model for a type of intersubjective
relations freed from the ‘secular antinomies’ caused by national rivalries
(p. 10). Soon afterwards in the text, the evocation of cultural differences
separating the sailors, once they emerge from their pacifying sleep, acts as
a foil to the evocation of Mediterranean society. Audisio presents the
Mediterranean as a liquid continent, a fatherland (patrie) that unites
nationally diverse groups seen as pertaining to the same people, which he
calls the Mediterranean ‘race’ (p. 10). Mediterranean unity proceeds from
a common condition, that of cultural syncretism of which North Africa is
the epitome: ‘ “Mon peuple”, a de multiples visages comme tout ce qui vit,
et son authenticité repose, comme toutes les vérités, sur un amalgame
d’antécédents suspects’ (p. 13). Unity thus proceeds from a common incor-
poration of different cultural traditions (although mostly, as we will see,
Graeco-Mediterranean ones), and this apprehension of a common state of
hybridity all over the Mediterranean region leads Audisio in essentialist
directions.

In his use of the term ‘race’ as opposed to ‘nation’ (p. 10), Audisio not 8. For a discussion of
only emphasizes the transnational character of his vision, thereby annihi- the concept see
Herman Lebovics,
lating nationalistic thinking as inadequate; he also reveals a belief in the True France:The
biological assimilation of what were originally cultural parameters. Indeed, Wars over Cultural
the recurrence of cultural experiences and symbols throughout the Identity, 1900–1945,
Ithaca: Cornell
Mediterranean is used to demonstrate the existence of a distinctive, syn- University Press,
cretic state of mind, the Mediterranean psyche, which is thought to be the 1992.
most perceptible emanation of a specific biological constitution. In this con-
text, the recurrent figure of Odysseus, the wanderer, in Audisio’s theoretical
production epitomizes such a transborder, hybrid Mediterranean identity.
The hero links together vitality, nostalgia-inspired mobility and the pagan-
ism inherent in oriental (non-Christian) cultural traditions – all character-
istics that lie at the root of Audisio’s conception of the Mediterranean
people. This focus on essential Mediterranean features is part and parcel of
the disruptive potential of Audisio’s discourse, as the very notion of hybrid-
ity underlying it directly undermines dominant racialized discourses in the
colony, such as earlier Algérianiste theories, which provided a rationaliza-
tion of colonial practices in the making. Based on the writings of Louis
Bertrand and Robert Randau in the early 1900s, the Algérianiste movement
was the first attempt in the literature produced in the French colony to
envision Algeria as a space of coexistence and cultural communication
between the Orient and the Occident. While rejecting the previous oriental-
ist littérature d’escale on account of its exoticized foreign perspective, the
Algérianistes meant to provide a realistic account of the dynamics of
Algerian colonial society through the depiction of the birth of a new race –
les Algériens. By emphasizing for the first time the mixed Mediterranean
character of the land, the Algérianistes reconfigured Algeria as the cross-
road of disparate western (Latin) and oriental cultural influences. Such
interest in cultural hybridity could have potentially moved away from
monolithic understandings of culture. Yet, the promise of their writings
was short-lived as the transnational character of the Mediterranean influ-
ence present in the colony was neutralized; Algeria was mapped out as an
enclosed, self-sufficient regional space which obeyed exclusive dynamics.
That elaboration of Algeria as a regional paradigm owes much to the con-
temporary conceptions of regionalism as an incarnation of ‘True France’.8
In a dystopian national context where the rapid pace of modernization was
perceived as a threat to the ‘true’ national character, conservative region-
alisms were regarded as the only legitimate form of resistance to national
decline. In traditional regionalist fashion, Algeria was thus envisioned as a
locus of regeneration for the corrupted, weakened French Republic, which
had just then lost the war against the Germans. Algeria appeared to be a
new land full of promises, one that could compensate for the 1870 loss of
Alsace-Lorraine (Bertrand’s homeland, which was handed over to the
Germans as reparations) and, through the colonial domination and ‘civiliz-
ing’ of the natives in the name of North African Latinité (the Roman,
Christian history of the land considered as its true tradition), restore France
to its former grandeur. Gabriel Audisio was no stranger to Algérianiste inter-
pretations of Algerian heritage as purely Latin. Early in his career, he had
contributed to the group’s periodical Afrique and was therefore familiar
with its theories. His writings’ emphasis on the fluidity evinced in

9. For the theoretical Odysseus’s meandering journey back to Ithaca can thus be read as a reac-
modalities of such tion to the instrumentalization of concepts of hybridity evinced in
instrumentalization of
theories of métissage, Algérianiste writings, as a geographical representation of an absolute
see Christopher Miller, hybridity promoted as political ideal.9 Here, the potential of Audisio’s con-
Nationalists and cept rests on its geographical scope, as the choice of a local/transnational
Nomads: Essays on
Francophone African paradigm immunizes it from nationalistic recuperation and ensures its
Literature and Culture, propagation as a vector of desegregation. The choice of the term ‘race’
Chicago and London: applied to all Mediterranean subjects, regardless of religion or geography,
University of Chicago
Press, 1999. thus must be understood as a rewriting of modern exclusive implications
usually associated with the concept. If the Mediterranean people (Muslims
10. I here use
Chakrabarty’s and non-Muslims alike) constitutes a different race, it is one that presents
terminology designat- itself as rejuvenating for ‘old’ northern Europe. Its historical eternal youth,
ing the theories en here, is not connoted as immaturity or cultural primitivism. A new seman-
vogue in colonial times
that justified colonial- tics ties youth to regeneration and vitality, thereby displacing historicist dis-
ism by the purported courses of the ‘not yet’.10
immaturity of colonial To the concept of stages in cultural development, Audisio opposes a
peoples to dispose of
themselves. See Dipesh vision of the Mediterranean that would render all historicist judgement
Chakrabarty, obsolete. In this regard, his argument extends the filiations of Mediterranean
‘Introduction’, in culture and European culture, which claims to be descended from it, beyond
Provincializing Europe:
Postcolonial Thought a Graeco-Roman heritage.11 Audisio thus attempts to defuse discourses that
and Historical would make that culture the only valuable one in the ancient Mediterranean
Difference, Princeton: for being the avowed precursor of northern European modernity, its con-
Princeton University
Press, 2000. temporaneous colonial tradition included. In ‘Le Sel de Carthage’,12
Carthage in its cultural hybridity becomes the epitome of an extensive
11. Audisio’s writings pre-
sent two sides of Greek Mediterranean unified beyond religious and geographical divides. Audisio
culture that are put to here again adopts a transnational perspective as his analysis endeavours
the fore according to to replace Carthaginian culture in its historical context of migrations and
the historiography in
which they are displacement of populations instead of judging history through the lens
mentioned: paganism of Roman culture. In revealing the reasons for the city’s historical con-
and the culture of demnation, Audisio relativizes it as he reveals that it was an anti-Semitic
epics (what Audisio
sees as the fruitful side sentiment rooted in the fear of cultural/racial contamination that led to
of Greek culture), and the city’s repudiation. Audisio thus offers an alternative reading of
Greek rationality, Carthaginian culture, not as a threat to the Latin culture then dominating
embodied either in its
philosophy or in its the Mediterranean, but rather as its complement, a locus of fruitful collabo-
political achievements. ration between Orient and Occident. It thus displaces Graeco-Roman cul-
It is the latter charac- ture as the central one in the Mediterranean, thereby relativizing the
teristic that is here
conveyed in the term superiority attributed to the civilizations claiming that heritage. Through
‘Greco-Latin’, which his consideration of Carthage, Audisio thus adds a new component to his
adequately puts to the Greek-inspired Mediterranean hybridity: Semitic culture, taken here
fore the recuperation
and limitation of Greek mostly as Jewish rather than Arabic (although both branches are insepa-
culture to what has rable for Audisio13), yet taken not so much in religious terms as in its
been adopted by its ethnographic character. It is here the Semitic orient of mysticism (‘l’ori-
Latin offshoot.
Audisio’s use of (irra- ent sémitique (…) de la mystique juive’, p. 52) that is taken into account
tional) Greek culture as a foil to ‘Greco-Latin’ rationality (p. 52). Semitism is thus considered
as epitome of an inclu- more as a principle of irrationality than as a purely Jewish element.
sive Mediterranean
character thus stands Carthage rather embodies non-Christian/Oriental culture detached from
closer to the evocation its later offshoot: Roman Christian culture, Christianity being taken here
of irrational Semitism as the rigid hierarchical organization of the Roman Church rather than
discussed below than
it does to the its mystical beliefs. Audisio’s Mediterranean is thus described as originating
Greco-Latin tradition. from this perpetual conflicting encounter between East and West through

‘horizontal’ waves of eastern migrations to the West. Carthaginian 12. In Gabriel Audisio, Le
‘Semitism’ thus historically provided a counterpoint to a Roman/Christian Sel de la Mer, Paris:
Gallimard, 1936,
domination necessary to ‘faire des étincelles’ (p. 51), that is for cultural pp. 47–75.
hybridity to eventually occur (all Audisio’s terms). Audisio’s Mediterranean
13. ‘On me somme de
is therefore one of reconciliation, one of fusion between Orient and distinguer entre Juifs,
Occident, whose heartland lies in the central land of Tunisia. Eternal in its la race qui se dit élue,
shared hybridity, its culture stands the test of time and all waves of la nation d’Israël, et
les peuples sémitiques,
colonization: ‘Sous la domination romaine, la latinité n’y change presque entre l’ethnographie
rien’ (p. 55), a concept that could possibly include the French colonial et la religion. Chicane
presence. de mots qui ne
change rien au fond.
The two shifts from self-enclosed Algeria to the transnational Les sémites d’Arabie
Mediterranean and from Latin ancestry to Greek-Semitic ancestry thus ne sont pas des Juifs,
work hand in hand to form a reconfiguration of a utopian North African soit, mais l’Histoire
atteste la fraternité
community included in a Mediterranean region that stretches beyond somatique et
racial and religious divides. The recuperation of Semitism as part and par- spirituelle des divers
cel of Audisio’s redefinition of a Mediterranean of reconciliation is thus peuples issus du
même terroir (…).’
integral to his disruptive potential. In emphasizing the Mediterranean as a Ibid., pp. 48–49.
space of reconciliation between Latinness and Judaism, Audisio’s argu-
14. A major blind spot in
ment undermines the very working of Algérianiste thinking, which tended Audisio’s conception
to associate anti-semitism with faithfulness to an original common Latin is his perception of
culture. His words therefore resonate as anti-fascist, be it Italian fascism in Berber cultures.
Rarely discussed per
the guise of Latinness or European fascism, with the rise of Hitler in se, they are often
Germany and the growth of an anti-Semitic sentiment in France. The only used as mere
inclusion of Islam in his vision, however, is much less conclusive. Audisio’s ethnographic
counterpoint to the
biography of Haroun-al-Raschid provides insight into his perception of evocation of northern
Islamic culture. A romanced depiction of the life and achievements of the Mediterranean
Baghdad caliph, whom Audisio interestingly presents as the head of the cultures and do
not significantly
Arab empire that stretched from Spain to India, the book enthusiastically contribute to
portrays an idealized Islamic civilization of power and enlightenment on Audisio’s mythical
its way to conquering the whole Mediterranean. Although the focus lies conception of
Mediterranean
on Haroun-al-Raschid’s empire in Asia, his reference to Al-Andalus, the hybridity. Audisio
Muslim rule over parts of the Iberian peninsula, emphasizes the transna- generally downplays
tional character of this golden age of Islamic civilization. Haroun- Berber specificities
and subsumes them
al-Raschid’s court therefore becomes the epitome of Islamic enlightenment, within what he calls
which is to be found throughout the Arab empire all the way to Al- ‘le génie nord-
Andalus, the Muslim rule over parts of the Iberian peninsula. Yet, the africain’, a syncretic
cultural construct
defeat against Charles Martel spelled the end of Arab ambitions in the reminiscent of
Mediterranean and it is on a somewhat nostalgic note that Audisio Mediterranean
deplores the incompleteness of the Arab conquest of both Mediterranean hybridity which
reduces Berber
shores. The image of Islam in the Mediterranean is thus, to Audisio, that of cultures to a disparity
a failure, of an absence, one which holds sway over his treatment of Islam of cultural elements
and Muslim natives in his theoretical configurations. In narrating the his- assimilated from
successive waves of
tory of the Arab empire in the East, Audisio chooses to present unadulter- colonization. It is
ated Muslim civilization free of any intermingling with the native possible that
populations of North Africa.14 Audisio thus dissociates Islam from the Audisio’s reluctance
to acknowledge the
Mediterranean region. The inclusion of Graeco-Mediterranean and existence of specific,
Semitic cultures partake of the same objective: redefining the autonomous Berber
Mediterranean as a transnational space of contact immune from national- cultures constitutes
a reaction to
istic recuperations. By choosing to focus on Islam outside the Algérianiste
Mediterranean region, Audisio fails to incorporate Islamic elements into theories, which

instrumentalized this syncretic vision. Islam is therefore relegated to a superficial, marginal

what they depicted position; it does not even warrant any thorough consideration of its rich
as Berber culture’s
‘eternal’ character history in the North African region (in mythical Al-Andalus, for instance,
to better justify the the setting of many accounts of Islamic-inspired Mediterranean hybridity).
insignificance of the It is thus not surprising that, in his theoretical production, the treatment
Arabic conquest and
to reduce North of the Muslim figures, be they Arabs or Berbers, should remain frustrat-
African culture to ingly peripheral; nor is it surprising that his vision of a common
its Latin past. Mediterranean identity should predominantly be influenced by Graeco-
15. The text can be found Mediterranean cultures. It is in this deficient representation of the Muslim
in Albert Camus, natives that the blind spots of Audisio’s theoretical configurations are most
Essais, Paris:
Gallimard, 1965, perceptible, his dealings with the segregated natives possibly constituting a
pp. 1321–27. case of the return of the colonial repressed mentioned earlier.
Audisio’s main contribution, thus, lies in his attempt to promote an
alternative value system, albeit limited and utopian, which remaps the
Mediterranean locus as a transnational and, possibly, anti-segregationist
one in its questioning of the rationale of the racializing discourses on
which the colonial enterprise rests. His focus on a hybrid North Africa
therefore transgresses its local boundaries as l’Ecole d’Alger made it a capital
site in the global struggle against fascism and its associated segregation.
That move was to be developed by Camus who took Audisio’s insights to a
higher philosophical level.
Camus’ existentialism: a transnational revision of the Marxist

ideology of revolt
Camus’ conception of the Mediterranean is in many ways comparable to
that of Audisio: his texts evince the same distrust of the Algérianiste rein-
forcement of racial and ethnic dichotomies as well as a similar interest in a
transnational paradigm. His denunciatory approach nevertheless does
not stop at the consideration of segregation as a mere conjectural phe-
nomenon. If Camus shares Audisio’s belief in the ‘eternal Mediterranean’,
his analysis strives to reconcile that belief in the non-hierachical nature of
Mediterranean culture with the realities of colonial rule in Algeria. His
dilemma is further compounded by his simultaneous adherence to Marxist
doctrines and associated ideals of progress and historicism that Audisio’s
non-historicist, cyclical conception of history (waves of transient conquests)
was so quick to dismiss.
The main text by Camus dealing with the issue in a Mediterranean
context is the speech that he delivered at the inauguration of the Maison de
la Culture in February 1937, an address generally considered to be the
founding manifesto of l’Ecole d’Alger.15 The text was composed at a crucial
moment in Camus’ relation to the PCF (French communist party) as he
came to oppose the party’s Eurocentric doctrines on account of its inca-
pacity to adapt its ideological principles to the complexity and uniqueness
of the Algerian situation. The connection between the PCF and Algerian
nationalists had been a turbulent one, in which Camus directly partici-
pated when in charge of the recruiting of Muslims. Indeed, the party’s
original reluctance to accommodate devout Muslim groups in a political
movement that had always rested on the denunciation of religion was
eventually mitigated by its crucial need for their support against the
fascist threat in Europe. The party’s instrumentalization of the Muslim

people, combined with the official downplaying of their demands for justice 16. See Roger Quilliot,
and equality within the colony, was to cause an irremediable rift between ‘Politique et culture
Méditerranéennes’ in
Camus and the elites of the party, from which he eventually resigned.16 Camus, Essais, pp.
The inaugural speech must thus be considered, in this tense context, in 1314–20, for a
terms of its opposition to monolithic doctrines defended by the PCF, which thorough discussion
of the tumultuous
Camus accused of sacrificing the well-being of the people in the name of relationship between
ideology. While his argument does not reject the emancipatory claims Camus and the PCF.
underlying grand narratives, such as Marxism, it nevertheless emphasizes 17. ibid., p. 1321.
how Orthodox Marxist doctrines from the late 1930s perpetuated a hier-
archy between an essentialized Europe, where the threat of fascism had to
be defused as a main priority, and the rest of the world, where demands on
the part of the oppressed did not resonate with such urgency. As a matter
of fact, in its assessment of political priorities, Marxist ideology partook of
the same logic of abstraction that informs historicist conceptions of civi-
lization based on the dangerous notion of progress. Despite its avowed
focus on the universal, it paradoxically resulted in the reinforcement of
nationalistic/racist hierarchies. Camus therefore suggests a reformulation
of Marxism that would be more amenable to the distinctive context of colo-
nial segregation in the Mediterranean.
Camus’ revision goes back to the evocation of an earlier form of
(Mediterranean) culture, one of collaboration and harmony between all
communities. In this respect, he appropriates the modern concept of nos-
talgia for a state that pre-existed unruly modernization. Here, however, it
is the state of culture of pre-modern societies, not their apparent primi-
tivism or state of nature, that is considered. This backward movement
should not be confused with the regionalist conservatism that appeared in
France around the same time. The goal here truly is to reappropriate a
past deemed to have been less inimical to oppressed subjects in order to
promote social advancement. What is argued truly engages the modern
theoretical apparatus at its best. Camus offers an alternative humanism
working its revision from within the limits of the modern, only in relation
to that framework. The text starts with a defence of regionalism, disengag-
ing it from backward traditionalist doctrines such as those of the
Algérianistes. Camus explicitly mobilizes a liberal subtext in order to better
frame the relevance of his proposition:
Il y a peut être quelque chose d’étonnant dans le fait que des intellectuels de
gauche puissent se mettre au service d’une culture qui n’intéresse en rien la
cause qui est la leur, et même, en certains cas, a pu être accaparée (comme
c’est le cas pour Maurras) par des doctrinaires de droite.17
This argument is first and foremost a diatribe against conservative

nationalism, which is equated with imperial decadence, a desperate attempt
to preserve the once fluid superiority of its spirit through the codification
of its relation to others. In opposition to such notions, Camus puts forth
the idea that human nature and civilization are intrinsically good.
Corruption stems from the adulterated relation of the subject to the
world, which is generated by unnecessary mediation through abstractions.
History (here taken as the historicist narrative of progress), like all abstrac-
tions, can only continue past injustices instead of escaping the logic of

18. ibid., p. 1325. I read subjugation, which has led to the current situation of oppression and
the phrase ‘la façon segregation. Abstracting ‘life’ (the ‘essence’ of Mediterranean culture for
[de vivre]’ here as a
synonym for the Camus), it also petrifies it in ‘pensée morte’ (dead thought); categories which
culture and traditions eventually shape realities that man, the subject of Camus’ humanistic
of these ethnic groups reading of Marxism, should shape. Man is thus enslaved by this rational-
rather than their
living conditions). ization of his experience. Camus’ text emphasizes the importance of the
discursive in the erection of unnatural oppressive dynamics, advocating a
19. This concept of
culture vivante works turn back to an ancestral Mediterranean ‘culture vivante’ (living culture)
as a prefiguration of and the abandoning of Germanic/northern European ‘civilisation morte’
his pensée de midi (dead civilization, also understood as the nationalistic phase of culture).
later expounded in
Camus’ most The concept of a transnational Mediterranean is therefore presented as
comprehensive the most adequate safeguard against possible nationalistic recuperations,
political work, for the hybrid quality of the culture it generates is ‘felt’ without mediation
L’homme révolté,
Paris: Gallimard, by every Mediterranean subject in a renewed (although utopian) solidarity.
1951. It is also Camus’ analysis thus endows it with both historical and geographical rele-
interesting to see how vance as it is substituted for nationalistic paradigms:
this idea prefigures
Fanon’s argument in
Peaux Noires La Méditerranée est de tous les pays le seul peut-être qui rejoigne les grandes
Masques Blancs pensées orientales. Car elle n’est pas classique et ordonnée, elle est diffuse et
where the
Martiniquan develops turbulente […] Et à ce confluent, il n’y a pas de différence entre la façon dont
the notion of a locus vit un Espagnol ou un Italien des quais d’Alger, et les Arabes qui les
of proud blackness as entourent. Ce qu’il y a de plus essentiel dans le génie méditerranéen jaillit
a reservoir from
which to draw the peut-être de cette rencontre unique dans l’histoire et la géographie née entre
strength to resist l’Orient et l’Occident (my emphasis).18
colonial racist
discourses depriving
the individual of his Its undeniable connection to historical hybridity marks its very multifac-
humanity (see Frantz eted nature. But, beyond that, the appeal to a glorious past functions as a
Fanon, Peaux Noires, cultural mémoire of which one can avail oneself in order to come to a gen-
Masques Blancs,
Paris: Seuil, 1952). uine understanding of the world and to protect oneself from the harmful
Both alternative effects of chauvinistic, divisive abstraction.19 We can see how the mythical
cultural affiliations notion of a unified Mediterranean region pervading Audisio’s writings is
can productively be
explored as elements here reworked in the political/philosophical mode as an immediate inter-
of the revision of a subjective relation, a rediscovered human solidarity, one that is meant to
harmful normative compensate for the precarious absurdity of the human condition. The
humanism.
local focus thus becomes essential as it is through local cultures alone that
men better grasp their humanity and feel the need of community, of revolt
for a ‘common’ good that is really experienced as such. It is important to
remark that although the hypothesis of immediate solidarity between sub-
jects from all communities holds great potential for Camus’ theoretical
revision of Marxism, it is doomed to have limited practical effects due to
the existence of unbridgeable material differences between communities in
a colonial context. Interestingly, these material differences constitute the
latent text of Camus’ argument, thereby reverberating on his treatment of
native figures who bear the brunt of segregation. Camus’ enumeration in
the preceding quotation constitutes a case in point. While the Spanish and
Italian subjects are endowed with the privilege of individuality (and associ-
ated agency), the natives are presented as an indistinct group (les arabes).
Moreover, the focus here lies on the two central characters, the European
subjects, while the natives who surround them hold their habitual periph-
eral, marginal position. Camus’ argument therefore appears to be at odds

with colonial reality and his theoretical efforts to promote equality 20. ibid., p. 1327.
between all subjects, despite their critique of the ideological rigidity that
causes exclusion, seem to eventually fall prey to the power of the colonial
dynamics of segregation.
Yet, this address is significant in that it constitutes a strategic move
towards a small scale, culturally specific geography of revolt within an
internationalist framework, as the establishment of the new
Mediterranean paradigm is only the first step towards a globalized recon-
figuration of Marxist understandings of the relation between the subject
and ideology. Even though other spaces are not specifically referred to, the
allusion is quite forthright: ‘Dans le cadre de l’internationalisme, la chose
est réalisable. Si chacun dans sa sphère, son pays, sa province consent à
un modeste travail, le succès n’est pas loin.’ 20 In this respect, the Maison
de la culture was to become a crucial organ of local collectivism, thereby
advocating the relevance of regional frameworks to internationalist, global
projects. It is nevertheless imperative here to disengage the idea of revolt
from any advocacy of anti-colonial praxis. Revolt is to be enacted on the
social level only as a personal commitment potentially duplicated on the
group level. This notion does not in any way promote the end of colonial-
ism or Algerian independence. Nationalistic thinking, even the anti-
colonial kind, is dismissed, therefore further limiting the practical impact
of Camus’ configuration since the natives’ position within colonial society
excludes them from any configuration of revolt.
A language ‘close to laughter or poetry’: assessing the impact

of l’Ecole d’Alger’s reconfigurations
Camus’ philosophy of revolt aims to show how thinking/praxis predicated
on partisanship and loyalty to rigid ideology necessarily leads to aporia. In
his view, the remedy to dangerous abstraction lies in the rehabilitation of
personal agency in relation to over-determined social circumstances. It
appears then that the existentialist issue of individual responsibility and free-
dom underlying Camus’ later work was already present in the 1937 inau-
gural address discussed earlier, albeit as failed utopia. Yet, his insights,
although inadequate to the context of colonialism, prove to hold tremendous
theoretical potential in our postcolonial context. Just as Mediterranean local
collectivism implies distance from a monolithic, pre-determined ideology, his
understanding of human responsibility rests on one’s liberation from identi-
ties pre-determined by birth circumstances. In her book France and the
Maghreb: Performative Encounters, Mireille Rosello insists on the overdeter-
mined character of most postcolonial Franco-Maghrebi encounters. At the
beginning of her introduction, she presents the idea that
[T]he violence of some historical contexts makes any initial encounter with
another subject almost impossible. No first encounter can ever take place
when history, language, religion, and culture exert such pressures upon the
protagonists of the encounter that their desire to speak or be silent is trapped
by preexisting, prewritten dialogues and scenarios (p. 1).
Rosello’s argument places history and its share of conflict, physical or

ontological, as the main impediments to free-flowing encounters going

21. Mireille Rosello, beyond stereotypes and fossilized identities. Rosello’s analysis can shed
France and the light on the disruptive potential of utopian discourse, such as l’Ecole
Maghreb:
Performative d’Alger’s, in our postcolonial times. Their language, in keeping with her
Encounters, analysis, is one ‘close to laughter or poetry’.21 Through what Rosello calls
Tallahassee: an ‘imaginative protocol of encounters’ (my emphasis), a protocol that
University Press of
Florida, 2005, p. 6. would strip the parties involved of a pre-established relationship, utopian
writings can displace the primacy of discourses of absolute antagonism
that have shown their political and theoretical limits in our postcolonial
period: ‘When we assume that we can identify the Mediterranean subjects
who will be the ordinary heroes of this book, if we already know what to
call them (…), the encounters that we imagine are already overdeter-
mined by our narratives’ (p. 1, my emphasis). The erasure of alternative
patterns of relations can only encourage the perpetuation of a dialectics of
resentment between the communities involved in the colonial situation,
which has often proved to lead into political dead-ends. The 2005 riots in
major French cities provide of vivid example of the failure of current post-
colonial relations in the context of multicultural France. The polarization
of the French and Algerian communities (now extended to all previously
colonized ethnic groups), which increased exponentially during the war of
independence, brought about enduring narratives of violence that are still
perceptible in the tension at work in the relations between Français de
souche and Français issus de l’immigration. The far-reaching consequences
of durable resentment between colonizers and colonized, those events
seem to be directly connected to monolithic, frozen conceptions of essen-
tialized, polarized identities in a (post)colonial context, which pre-empt
any effective integration, be it following the Republican model or other-
wise, of ex-colonized populations into the nation. Therefore, the move-
ment’s attempted reconfiguration of the normative dyadic understanding
of colonizer–colonized relations can provide much-needed theoretical
alternatives to dynamics inherited from colonial times, especially in the
context of the (French) multicultural nation. In that context, the concept
of transnational (regional) identities that would not be co-opted by mod-
ern exclusive discourses has tremendous theoretical potential. Undeniably,
the moment of a shared identity for Maghrebi and European communities
has passed (as it already had in the days of French colonialism in Algeria).
Yet, the fascination exerted by colonial Algeria as a unique colonial space
of encounter between diverse civilizations in the Mediterranean testifies
to the (utopian) theoretical attraction of a locus rid of communitarian
tensions.
L’Ecole d’Alger thus emphasized the necessarily impromptu character of
encounters between subjects from different communities, a stance that
adequately matches the non-binary nature of Algerian society that the
movement strove to put to the fore. That spontaneity informs the dynamic
of the very concept of hybridity developed by Gabriel Audisio: a hybridity
construed not as a middle ground position between two fixed subject posi-
tions but an ever-changing hybridity based on relational dynamics predi-
cated on individual experience (with the limitations mentioned earlier).
The true impact of such a stance thus does not lie in direct praxis (it was
never taken that far by any of the authors), but rather in the attempted
(and sometimes successful) dislocation of stereotypical discourses that

tend to polarize subject positions with the tragic consequences already 22. Edouard Glissant,
mentioned. Therefore, albeit an ‘imaginative’, incomplete one, the reform Poétique de la Relation -
Poétique III, Paris:
brought about by l’Ecole d’Alger is significant as its conception of the Gallimard, 1990,
Mediterranean provides a new context for possible reconfigurations of p. 30.
intercultural relations in a (post)colonial context. Through their resistance
to the duplication of exclusive categories still at work in a postmodern con-
text, the insights of l’Ecole d’Alger pave the way for a reconfiguration of
worldwide models of cultural relations that may be seen to fit with the
global dynamics of our age. These writers’ cultural affiliations, political
stances and literary practices spell out a transnational position, which
calls for the elaboration of new areas of study – here, the Mediterranean –
to be considered in their own right. Attention to regional spaces would
constructively displace models of representation in which the theoretical
existence of the marginal space is but a by-product of its necessary relation
to the metropole. The recognition of margin-to-margin self-sufficient rela-
tions leaves room for relational theories, or théories de la relation, in keeping
with Glissant’s paradigm.
In his Poétique de la Relation, Edouard Glissant engages with the issue of
cultural relations through the lens of hybridity. Positing the ‘rapport à
l’autre’ (relation to the other) as the basis of all identity, Glissant empha-
sizes the importance of the issue of relating. Starting from a precise con-
sideration of ancient colonial traditions (nomadisme envahisseur), which is
but a subcategory of a general principle of mobility (l’errance), Glissant
tackles the issue of the representation of the other in a context of unequal
cultural encounters. His argument pitches two dynamics of the ancient
world against each other: the attempt to impose Roman culture as universal
versus the regional forms of resistance based on the extolling of particu-
larism (p. 26). To Glissant, this tension between cultures in contact with
one another lies at the root of civilization and constitutes the primum
mobile at the origin of cultural identity. It is indeed in that relating process
(Relation) beyond absolute diversity that cultures come into being; an
intrinsic paradigm of totality underlies all thinking about cultures that
takes into account the existence of difference:
La pensée de l’Autre ne cessera d’être duelle qu’à ce moment où les

différences auront été reconnues. La pensé de l’Autre“ comprend ” dès lors la
multiplicité, mais d’une manière mécanique et qui ménage encore les subtil-
ités de l’universel généralisant.22
One more step will be necessary to gain the awareness that cultures par-
take of the same totality but Glissant implies that this underlying principle
is present all along. The totality implied here is not one of totalitarianism
(totalitarisme). It is in essence a decentred one, one where the logic of root-
edness in one space has failed. All thinking about totality therefore implies
the consideration of absolute ‘Relation’:
A partir du moment où les cultures, les terres, les femmes et les hommes ne
furent plus à découvrir mais à connaître, la Relation a figuré un absolu
(c’est-à-dire une totalité enfin suffisante à elle-même) […] Dans la mesure où
notre conscience de la relation est totale, c’est-à-dire immédiate et portant

immédiatement sur la totalité réalisable du monde, nous n’avons plus

besoin, quand nous évoquons une poétique de la Relation, d’ajouter: relation
entre quoi et quoi ? C’est pourquoi le mot français ‘Relation’ qui fonctionne
un peu à la manière d’un verbe intransitif, ne saurait répondre par exemple
au terme anglais “relationship”. (pp. 39–40)
The very concept of Relation annihilates the notion of centre, be it geo-

graphic (metropole) or cultural (language of the colonizer in a colony).
Relation is thus multilingual, de-hierarchized and thereby reminiscent of
the utopia of the l’Ecole d’Alger. The temptation of rootedness (la racine) is
dismissed as the thought of Relation (la pensée de l’errance) has substituted
the infinite quest for totality in place of nationalistic pretensions. Here
again, we are faced with the power of the ‘imaginative’ as it dismantles
entrenched dynamics of hierarchization and exclusion. That abolition pro-
ceeds from an explosion (éclat), which creates a world described as Chaos,
each element of which retains its intricacy and irreducibility to a norm.
Yet, that explosion should not be understood as pure scattering: all ele-
ments partake of one whole to which they freely relate. In point of fact, the
epitome of Relation is the Caribbean archipelago, a space of diffraction
where all cultures violently clash before being momentarily reconciled via
variable processes of creolization. The Caribbean therefore is a small-scale
model of cultural relating applicable to the global level. Here, Glissant’s
focus is on the Caribbean Sea. Yet a comparison with the Mediterranean
follows where the latter is described as being more inclusive than the
Caribbean. Nevertheless, no advantage is given to either with regard to its
exemplarity on the global level. For one of the main features of this ‘world-
Chaos’ is its intrinsic simultaneous multifaceted movement that denies
both logic and hierarchy.
Therefore, Glissant’s theory of Relation can, in and of itself, be appro-
priated as a strategic response of postcolonial theory to the growing logic
of globalization, one that would emphasize a genuine decentring that
could not be recuperated into contemporary modern processes of hierar-
chization. Although the paradigm can be duplicated on the global level, I
would like to emphasize its particular relevance in the context of the
Mediterranean as contact zone between First and Third worlds. Even
though l’Ecole d’Alger’s imaginative views have fallen into oblivion, their
analysis restores a fuller picture of Mediterranean relations at the apex of
modernity, thereby providing a much-needed revision of reductive, exclu-
sionary notions of European identity. Through their recuperation of
Semitism as part and parcel of Mediterranean identity, these authors dis-
placed the primacy of the interwoven history of the Roman Empire and the
rise of Christianity, which European modernity has claimed as its heritage.
Their revision of Mediterranean history presented both sides of the
Mediterranean (the western/Christian one and the eastern/Semitic one) as
inseparable, thereby annihilating any distinction between a civilized
Mediterranean and its barbarian other. This redrawing of the boundaries
of European genealogy resonates with current-day issues of what should
constitute the borders of Europe. While discursively, the rift between
Europe and North Africa has been perpetuated through decades of anti-
immigration policies that have worked to make the two sides of the

Mediterranean irretrievably opposed, the reality of trans-Mediterranean

migrations begs to differ. The growing influx of migrants from western
and northern Africa through the Mediterranean gateways of Ceuta and
Melilla (two Spanish enclaves within mainland Morocco), as well as the
Canary Islands in the Atlantic Ocean have proven how porous and blurry
the borders between Europe/the First World and Africa/the Third World
truly are.
Such a massive arrival of immigrants has given rise to nationalistic
defensive reactions with regard to the influence of immigrant culture on
a European identity that globalization has increasingly hybridized.
Reconceiving the Mediterranean as a space of contact and cooperation in
our era of globalization is therefore particularly relevant, as North Africa
has become a major stake in European dealings with Africa as a whole.
Reconfiguring Mediterranean cultures as historically linked and mutually
dependent seems to be crucial in the days when the rise of Muslim funda-
mentalisms, which sparked the civil war in Algeria, has also contributed
to the ostracism of Muslim countries (and Muslim minorities in Europe)
in the context of the US-led war on terror. Moreover, acknowledging the
intrinsic cultural diversity of Mediterranean Algeria would be a first step
towards questioning the alleged cultural purity of the Algerian nation,
thereby undermining the essentialist discourses on which fundamen-
talisms rely and historically reconfiguring Algeria as a space of tolerance
‘on a par with Europe’. The need to underscore the historical nature of
North–South relations in the Mediterranean area, which continually
shift as economic, political and social dynamics change, therefore seems
to resonate with increased urgency as theoretical constructions inherited
from the colonial hierarchies between colonies and metropole seem more
than ever unable to rise to the theoretical challenge posed by our global
dynamics.
References
Abun-Nasr, Jamil M. (1971), A History of the Maghreb, Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Audisio, Camus, Roblès, frères de soleil- leurs combats (2003), Rencontres
Méditerranéennes Albert Camus, Paris: Edisud.
Audisio, Gabriel (1930), La vie de Haroun-al-Raschid, Paris: Gallimard.
—— (1935), Jeunesse de la Méditerranée, Paris: Gallimard.
—— (1936), Sel de la mer, Paris: Gallimard.
—— (1957), Algérie, Méditerranée, feux vivant, Paris: Rougerie.
—— (1961), Hannibal, Paris: Berger-Levrault.
Camus, Albert (1951), L’Homme révolté, Paris: Gallimard.
—— (1965), Essais, Paris: Gallimard.
Chakrabarty, Dipesh (2000), Provincializing Europe: Postcolonial Thought and
Historical Difference, Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Fanon, Frantz (1952), Peaux Noires, Masques Blancs, Paris: Seuil.
Glissant, Edouard (1990), Poétique de la Relation - Poétique III, Paris: Gallimard.
Lebovics, Herman (1992), True France: The Wars over Cultural Identity, 1900–1945,
Ithaca: Cornell University Press.

Miller, Christopher L. (1999), Nationalists and Nomads: Essays on Francophone

African Literature and Culture, Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press.
Musette (1972), Cagayous (textes recueillis par Gabriel Audisio), Paris: Balland.
Rosello, Mireille (2005), France and the Maghreb: Performative Encounters,
Tallahassee: University Press of Florida.
Woodhull, Winifred (2003), ‘Postcolonial Thought and Culture in Francophone
North Africa’, in Charles Forsdick and David Murphy (eds), Francophone
Postcolonial Studies, a Critical Introduction, London: Arnold, pp. 211–20.
Suggested citation
Talbayev, E. T. (2007), ‘Between nostalgia and desire: l’Ecole d’Alger’s transnational
identifications and the case for a Mediterranean relation’, International Journal of
Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 359–376, doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.359/1
Contributor details
Edwige Tamalet Talbayev is agrégée d’anglais and a Ph.D. student in the Literature
Department at the University of California, San Diego. She is currently working on
her dissertation ‘Modernity Relativized: Retrieving Imaginaries of the
Transcontinental Mediterranean’, which deals with transnational imaginative
conceptions of the Mediterranean in French and Spanish colonial literatures of the
1930s. She is the author of various papers focusing on the intersection of mod-
ernism and Mediterranean literature in a colonial context. Contact: 402 Camino
Militar, Santa Fe, NM 87501, USA.
E-mail: etamalet@ucsd.edu

IJFS_10.3_06_art_Higginson.qxd 11/6/07 4:15 PM Page 377

A descent into crime: explaining

Mongo Beti’s last two novels
Pim Higginson Bryn Mawr College
Abstract Keywords
This study examines Mongo Beti’s last two novels, Trop de soleil tue l’amour crime fiction
(1999) and Branle-bas en noir et blanc (2000). Using his 1955 essay ‘Afrique ideology
Noire, littérature rose’, it ties his earliest literary work to these final narrative literature
endeavours. In particular, ‘Afrique Noire’ insists on two criteria for literary excel- Mongo Beti
lence: realism (meaning an acknowledgement of the crimes of colonialism) and noir
popularity (meaning something accessible and read by the Cameroonian people). popular culture
The problem, according to the author, is that Africans are largely illiterate and too postcolonial literature
poor to afford books; and France controls the editorial means of production. These realism novel
combined factors make reconciling the two criteria of popularity and realism Ville cruelle
impossible. If a novel is popular (sells), which it can only do in France, it is because
it does not realistically represent the crimes of colonialism. On the other hand, if
the novel is realistic, no one will ever publish or distribute it. Thus, according to
Beti, within the colonial and subsequent postcolonial context, the classical realist
novel cannot achieve his stated goals. Mongo Beti’s turn to crime fiction cun-
ningly reconciles these otherwise contradictory criteria by turning to a popular
genre particularly well equipped to speak of the conditions of his homeland.
Résumé
Cet article étudie les deux derniers romans de Mongo Beti, Trop de soleil tue
l’amour (1999) et Branle-bas en noir et blanc (2000) en utilisant son essai
de 1955 ‘Afrique Noire, littérature rose’, pour faire le lien entre les premiers écrits
de l’auteur et les derniers. ‘Afrique Noire’ insiste sur deux critères pour déterminer
l’excellence d’une œuvre: son réalisme (il devra traiter du colonialisme) et la popu-
larité (l’œuvre devra être lue). Le problème est que la majorité des Africains sont
illettrés et trop pauvres pour acquérir des livres; et la France contrôle la totalité des
moyens de production éditoriaux. Ces deux facteurs font qu’il est impossible de
combiner les deux critères qui constituent les éléments essentiels d’un ‘bon’ roman
Africain. Si un roman a du succès (en France) c’est qu’il n’est pas réaliste; et s’il est
réaliste il n’a aucune chance d’être publié. Dans le contexte colonial et/ou postcolo-
nial, le roman réaliste ne peut pas s’accorder à ces critères. Le tournant vers le
roman noir de Beti représente une réconciliation des deux exigences apparemment
contradictoires, et cela à travers un genre particulièrement bien adapté aux conditions
criminelles du pays natal de l’auteur.
Writing in 1955, in the pages of Présence Africaine, Cameroonian author

Mongo Beti begins an essay entitled ‘Afrique Noire, littérature rose’ with the

1. Eza Boto, ‘Afrique following bombshell: ‘il n’y a guère […] d’œuvre littéraire de qualité inspirée
Noire, littérature rose’, par l’Afrique Noire et écrite en langue française.’ What does he mean by
Présence Africaine,
1: 5, 1955, p. 133. ‘œuvre de qualité’? First, such a work must be demonstrably popular: ‘une
œuvre accueillie, connue, admise comme telle par le grand public.’1 Second,
2. Where Beti situates
his Ville cruelle (1954) it should be in a realistic genre, otherwise, ‘elle risque de manquer de réso-
published one year nance, de profondeur, de ce dont toute littérature a le plus grand besoin:
before his essay, with l’humain’ (p. 135). Mentioning novels by Camara Laye, René Maran and
respect to the works
he cites, is open to Ousmane Socé as failing to abide by these criteria, the young Cameroonian
speculation. wryly concludes, ‘j’ai en fait cité tous les écrivains africains auxquels le pub-
3. Christopher Miller, lic français et sa critique ont daigné accorder leurs faveurs depuis une
Theories of Africans, dizaine d’année’ (p. 136). With one gesture, Beti reduces the totality of the
Chicago: UP Chicago, nascent francophone African literary canon to mendacious renderings of a
1990, p. 125.
colonial fantasy.2
4. In his work on the The author then complicates his analysis by attributing this literary
African novel and
tradition, Mohamadou void to western economic control over the means of production and distri-
Kane articulates this bution. An African aspiring to produce this ideal text would inevitably face
tension in similar, ‘le public français et sa critique’ who only ‘daign[ent] accorder leurs faveurs’
though positive
fashion: ‘La volonté (p. 136) to a few works such as Camara Laye’s (1928–80) L’Enfant noir
de décrire […] la (1953) that answer a narrow series of criteria. As Christopher Miller
société coloniale, la points out in Theories of Africans, ‘Camara’s first novel succeeded in France
conjonction des
traditions de réalisme because it seemed to be an exotic African idyll […].’ Miller also notes, for
et d’engagement, the very same reasons, that ‘L’Enfant noir has […] gone on to become the
débouchent sur le best-known francophone African novel, the most widely read, in many
recours à des
techniques ways the ‘first’ of its genre.’3 According to Beti, the publishing industry is
d’expositions of equal or greater significance in that it generates and anticipates its pub-
appropriées qui lic, the ‘Français-qui-lit-des-romans’ (p. 136). Conversely, Africa’s masses
renforcent le souci de
présentation relevé are illiterate and too poor to afford books, and its acculturated elite disin-
dans une phase terested in African authors. The readership is instead primarily white,
antérieure du roman’ French and bourgeois; such works must, therefore, satisfy Europe’s intimate
(p. 93). By ‘phase
antérieure’ he means convictions and prejudices. This de facto censorship prevents the represen-
the realist novel of the tation of ‘la seule réalité actuelle de l’Afrique Noire, sa seule réalité profonde’
nineteenth century. which is ‘avant tout la colonisation et ses méfaits’ (p. 137).
Mohamadou Kane,
Roman africain et In the 1950s it would appear that the pro-colonial bias of the publishing
tradition, Dakar: industry precludes producing a great work of African literature and assures
Nouvelles Editions that economic questions profoundly impact African aesthetic considera-
Africaines, 1982,
p. 93. tions. Despite his objection to this western regulation, the strategy by which
Beti chooses to resist paradoxically runs through a model, nineteenth-
century realist literature that is constitutive of the very colonial ideology he
opposes. In addition, the insistence on popularity locates the question of
economic access at the very heart of his project. Having identified the
source and means of oppression, the author’s argument nevertheless
remains suspended between a suspect literary tradition inherited from the
colonial relationship, and a literary project that ‘Afrique Noire’ can only
grope for. On the one hand, Beti seemingly refuses a high-aesthetic stan-
dard by imposing popularity as a fundamental criterion; on the other hand,
he also grafts himself into a specifically European (r)evolutionary paradigm
in the Sartrian tradition of Qu’est-ce que la littérature, which maintains the
literary as an operative – as a necessary – category.4 How can an African
author adhere to a nineteenth-century literary-aesthetic model (Realism)
without being interpellated by the exclusionary mechanisms encrypted into
378 Pim Higginson

the medium – writing – of constitutive dissemination? Posing this double 5. David Murphy,
imperative, popularity and a particular conception of literariness, identifies ‘De-centering French
Studies: Towards a
but does not escape the double bind that, despite everything, continues to Postcolonial Theory of
haunt postcolonial African fiction. Francophone
In what follows, I want to propose that the young Mongo Beti poses the Cultures’, French
Cultural Studies, 13,
question of African literature – and, as we will see, subsequently answers 2003, p. 167.
it – within what will become two dominant critical fields. In his essay, he
6. A simple glance at his
clearly states that one cannot understand the place and meaning of numerous titles
African writing without considering the colonial experience. His subse- should be enough to
quent fiction and non-fiction writings make the colonial and neocolonial convince any sceptic.
experience essential features of his authorial Weltanschauung. In short, Beti 7. Dominic Thomas,
is a ground-breaking contributor to a postcolonial perspective within fran- ‘Intersections and
Trajectories’, in H.
cophone African studies. In proposing this connection, I am accepting Adlai Murdock and
David Murphy’s invitation to include francophone authors within the Anne Donnadey (eds),
purview (and at the origin) of postcolonial studies. This process, Murphy Postcolonial Theory and
Francophone Literary
hopes, will thereby challenge ‘certain Anglophone opinions about French- Studies, p. 237.
language material […]’.5 In keeping with this, Beti needs not only to be
8. Chris Bongie, ‘Exiles
placed alongside such canonical francophone postcolonial icons as Aimé on Main Stream:
Césaire and Albert Memmi, more importantly, he should be read forward Valuing the Popularity
as someone whose work followed the trajectory of postcolonial criticism of Popular Culture’,
Postmodern Culture,
into the twenty-first century, though he never expressly participated in the 14: 1, 2003, p. 20.
academically constituted field.6 By reading him this way, I insistently
(re)locate this author, but, as will become clearer as my argument pro-
gresses, situate him in an even more radical destabilizing network that
Dominic Thomas calls transpostcolonialism7 in which the binary assump-
tions of an exclusive relationship between (neo)colonial centre and periph-
ery are replaced by more productive critical strategies that recognize the
global quasi-meteorological densities, eddies and flows of cultural, economic
and ideological phenomena’s circulation.
Having noted this easy identification, I would add that I am not sug-
gesting that one should read Mongo Beti exclusively within a traditional or
restrictively postcolonial purview. Indeed, I want also to insist on another
feature of his early article: its overarching concern for popularity. By insis-
tently gauging valence according to popular response, Beti opens the way
for what a decade later (beginning in 1964) Richard Hoggart, and subse-
quently Stuart Hall inaugurate as the cultural studies movement’s chal-
lenge to the exclusion of mass and popular expressive media from academic
considerations of the aesthetic and the ideological. In the process, and pre-
cisely because ‘Afrique noire, littérature rose’ underscores the imbrication
of the popular and the postcolonial, the Cameroonian author facilitates, at
the very site of African literary canon formation, the process so forcefully
argued for in Chris Bongie’s ‘Exiles on Mainstream’. For Bongie, while
‘[P]ostcolonial literary studies ostensibly writes back against the hierarchi-
cal distinctions of the “Western” literary canon and renders audible the
silenced voices of marginalized people,’ too frequently ‘its unstated reliance
on a high/middlebrow vision of literature and its reluctance to take inau-
thentic popularity into serious account’ leads to a ‘watered-down version
of canonical thinking’ that only gives voice to the ‘people when they say,
do, and consume the “right” things’.8 In short, in this vision of the field,
postcolonial studies cryptically reproduces the categories it purports to
A descent into crime: explaining Mongo Beti’s last two novels 379
9. It should be noted challenge, reinforcing a manner of distinction that is foundational of western

that a significant modes of identification and exclusion that threaten to (re)constitute a dan-
number of local
African critics began gerously appropriative neocolonial apparatus.
working at an early If postcolonial studies sometimes fail to recognize the importance of mass
date on such ‘popular’ culture, as we have already seen in the passages cited at the outset, Beti
phenomena as
Onitsha market instead takes this purportedly ‘inauthentic’ popularity very seriously. Thus,
literature in Nigeria. rather than simply or problematically assimilating Beti into postcolonial
Nevertheless, these studies (whatever specifically that might be), I prefer to suggest that he par-
western critics have
provided an overview ticipates in many of its critical gestures while overlapping significantly with
on which I am – not many ‘schools’ – including, and perhaps most importantly, cultural studies.
unproblematically – As I have already noted, if part of Beti’s thinking accommodates the post-
drawing here.
colonial, the cultural occupies an equally important position. Bongie, as we
10. Karin Barber, have seen, broadly takes to task postcolonial criticism’s unwillingness to
‘Introduction’,
Readings in Africa engage the popular. Indeed, the critical treatment of African literature has
Popular Cultur, Karen fared only nominally better than, say, the literature of the Caribbean on
Barber (ed.), p. 4. which he founds his argument. Those studying African literature have, up
until recent years, mostly been preoccupied with the continent’s various and
highly complex engagements with the conundrum of the high literary.
Nevertheless, such critics as Bernth Lindfors, Karin Barber and, subsequently,
Stephanie Newell, among others, have paid attention to popular cultural
production, most notably in an anglophone context.9 They have also signifi-
cantly complicated the idea of the popular. Of particular import in this
respect is Karin Barber’s warning that
When the distinction between ‘folk’/’traditional’, ‘popular’, and ‘mass’, or

that between ‘high’ and ‘low’ culture is transplanted to Africa, then the already-
porous and ambiguous classifications seem to turn around on their axes and
reconfigure themselves into an unstable, almost unusable paradigm.10
In refuting the Frankfurt school’s (and particularly Theodor Adorno’s) dis-

missal of the popular, and instead invoking Bourdieu, Barber nevertheless
also acknowledges the extreme difficulty of providing a consistent differen-
tial calculus by which the authentic and inauthentic, the high and low, or
again the popular might be convincingly established as discrete categories.
My own contribution to this discussion proposes that Beti’s use of the
expression ‘littérature rose’ hints at the difficulty of reading African litera-
ture through the lens of mass cultural phenomena, while also announcing
one strategy by which African texts might begin to dodge the high-literary
expectations Bongie warns us against. In the title of Beti’s essay, the
expression ‘littérature rose’ refers specifically to Laye’s L’Enfant noir, which
the former famously accuses of failing to be realistic. What interests me is
less his comments on the Guinean author, however, than those on the
American author to whom he compares him. Here, we arrive at a signifi-
cant instance of Thomas’ transpostcolonialism. Noting the resemblance in
titles, Beti juxtaposes L’Enfant noir to Richard Wright’s (1908–60) Black
Boy (1945). This appeal to Wright further explains what the young
Cameroonian means when he speaks of a realist novel: the social-realist
style that Wright inherited from such authors as H.L. Mencken, Upton
Sinclair and Theodore Dreiser. Wright’s grim narrative provides the mate-
rial ground for his ideological critique. In contrast to Laye, ‘Wright […]
380 Pim Higginson

dédaignant la moindre coquetterie à l’égard du public, pose les problèmes 11. Paul Gilroy, Black
dans toute leur crudité, évite les lieux communs, les futilités, les naïvetés’ Atlantic, Cambridge:
Harvard UP, 1993,
(p. 420). The American author facilitates the use of the literary as an p. 19.
operative (and utilitarian) concept. By turning to Wright (and away from
12. Wright’s discomfort
France/Laye-as-lackey), ‘Afrique Noire, littérature rose’ initiates a Black and ultimately his
Atlantic handshake, a diasporic bridge between Africa and the United elitism will become all
States that anticipates later narrative strategies. The argument, though too apparent in his
non-fiction Black
never stated explicitly, is that reproducing the exclusive relationship Power about his travels
(whether aesthetic, economic or ideological) between the colony and the to Kwame Nkruma’s
Métropole dooms francophone African writing. Invoking Richard Wright Ghana.
establishes a black Atlantic operational field (rather than a binary rela- 13. As Kom Say in his
tionship with France) in which to locate African literature. The American’s introduction to his
long interview in
rhetorical intervention thus does more than provide the correct model in Mongo Beti parle, ‘Sur
contrast to Laye’s failure; it authorizes a nomadic genre, a writing no longer la scène politique
fencing with (and fenced in by) the master, but operating at the mobile camerounaise, dans
les milieux littéraires
crossroads of multiple traditions and trajectories. In arguing for the liter- et intellectuels
ary imperative, we can see that Beti emphasizes the importance of local africains, Mongo Beti
African textual production while simultaneously joining those like Wright est presque entré dans
la légende tant son
who, in Paul Gilroy’s words, ‘repeatedly articulate a desire to escape the écriture et les opinions
restrictive bonds of ethnicity, national identification, and sometimes even qu’il émet suscitent
“race” itself ’.11 débats et controverses.’
Ambroise Kom (ed.),
The logic behind citing Wright is multifold. For one, the American is Mongo Béti Parle,
famously unrelenting in his critique of American racism. Of equal impor- African Studies Series,
tance is the phenomenal success of his novels. As such, they clearly answer Bayreuth: Eckhard
Breitinger, 54, 2002,
the criteria of engagement and of popularity – or so it appears. If Wright is p. 17.
appealing for these reasons, the American author also happens to be
14. The novel bitterly
known for his problematic elitism. As his novel Native Son shows, and as critiques a repressive
would become increasingly clear with his non-fiction 100 Million Black colonial regime whose
Voices, Richard Wright is profoundly indebted to, and invested in a ‘high sole purpose is the
pillaging of Africa and
literary model’. He categorically refuses to accord any aesthetic worth to its people. But,
popular African American culture; it is merely symptomatic of historical whereas Camara Laye
degradation.12 While Beti is clearly far less convinced of western civiliza- depicts an idyllic
village life ruled by
tion’s inherent superiority, it is unclear what literary discourse he might ancestral values, Beti
invent that could communicate (with) the African people. The pressing shows that village is
question that remains suspended is, therefore, francophone African writ- dominated by the
opportunistic rule of a
ing’s relationship to the vernacular. How should francophone African class of stubborn and
writing represent Africans’ experiences and speech? Richard Wright, conservative elders.
because of his lack of interest in popular culture, relegates the issue of ver- For Beti, the village is
the past. The
nacular representation to the background. Half a century later, in respond- question, for this early
ing to this same dilemma, the mature Beti turns to a popular genre, the novel, is what lies in
crime novel, when searching for new ways of representing – in realistic the future.
fashion – the complexities of the postcolonial quotidian.
Ultimately, ‘Afrique Noire, littérature rose’ is about the relationship
between the political and the literary. What role will/can the literary play
with respect to the ideological? The essay clearly advocates a ‘littérature
engagée’, which will be Beti’s guiding criterion throughout his life.13 Yet,
how can or should African authors marshal the literary for this purpose
and how can one communicate textually with Africans? What will such a
work look like? His first answer to these questions is his 1954 Ville cruelle.14
This inaugural text attempts to represent the colonial scene through the
15. If, as Stephen Arnold’s eyes of a largely illiterate protagonist. Without going into great detail, as
introduction to Critical the title suggests, the narrative already dwells on the effects of demo-
Perspectives on Mongo
Beti suggests, his work graphic urbanization and an evolving social and economic African moder-
fits into distinct peri- nity that will preoccupy subsequent works of African fiction and
ods, these categories particularly the crime novels that begin to appear from the 1980s onwards.
cede to criminality as
a symptom of the For a number of reasons, Ville cruelle is not (yet) a fully constituted ‘polar’;
urban modernity it is, nevertheless a proto-crime novel in that it employs many of the tropes
characteristic of the and techniques of the genre.
colonial and
subsequent Read 50 years later, the essay ‘Afrique Noire’ appears to announce the
postcolonial eras. turn to crime fiction as a logical conclusion to Beti’s quest for an effective
Stephen H. Arnold postcolonial aesthetic model. His first and subsequent fiction depicts the
(ed.), Critical
perspectives on Mongo presence and effect of ubiquitous criminality within urban Africa and
Beti, Boulder, Colo: repeatedly links it to similar phenomena occurring globally. Ville cruelle
Lynne Rienner, 1998. anticipates the moment when the postcolonial is already neocolonial and
survivalist delinquency becomes the only response to state-sponsored lar-
ceny and murder. In addition, the literary work itself insistently flouts the
laws of economic necessity cited above by refusing to accept the limitation
of its African readership and by ignoring white expectations. If it does not
hold up to further scrutiny as a proto-crime novel within this particular
optic, it is because, among other things, it borrows heavily from another
tradition altogether (the romance novel). Ville cruelle also fails to entirely
qualify in its refusal to allow the protagonist to become urbanized. Instead,
like the work itself, the main character remains suspended between genres
(crime, romance, realist) rather than turning him into a fully constituted
modern citadin.
This somewhat deviant and devious reading of Ville cruelle productively
connects Mongo Beti’s first and last two novels, giving coherence to his tra-
jectory as writer and as a militant. His 32 years of exile and his tense rela-
tions with France and the Ahmadou Ahidjo (1960–82) and Paul Biya
(1982– ) governments bolster the claim that he and his writing were always
in direct confrontation with one form of law or another. The Cameroonian’s
work has challenged colonialism’s crimes and therefore has always been, in
both senses, against the law – whether colonial or postcolonial. Indeed,
according to him, criminal activity and various forms of violence bind
African and European histories together.15 We can ultimately distil this
recurring focus on crime to a critique of the pernicious effects of western
capitalism on his homeland that bridges the 46 years between Ville cruelle
(published in 1954), and Branle-bas en noir et blanc (published in 2000).
As we have seen thus far, the principal preoccupation the novelist faces
is inventing a discourse adapted to the vernacular experience of his nation’s
people. Ville cruelle suggests, through its protagonist’s circular musings and
incantatory third person indirect discourse that it is struggling with the
transformation of an oral African language into a French literary text.
Beti’s early essay argues that ‘[L’]Afrique Noire’ is limited to ‘littérature
rose’, a static vision of a romanticized past. ‘Littérature rose’, for Beti is the
a-political novel, the narrative that does not – or refuses to – account for
the criminality of capitalist exploitation inherent to the colonial condition.
Having noted this, the expression ‘littérature rose’ alludes to a specific
genre. In using the expression ‘rose’, he accuses L’Enfant noir of exploiting
the tropes of the romance novel, known in French as ‘littérature [à l’eau de]
382 Pim Higginson

rose’. Beti’s critique of Laye simultaneously decries the Guinean’s lack of 16. Bernard Mouralis, Les
political engagement and denounces his generic choice. Thus, the debate Contre-littératures,
Paris: PUF, 1975.
would then reside between whether the romance or crime genres, romantic
love or ironic violence, can better represent the real conditions of the 17. Op. cit. Beti Parle,
Beyreuth African
African people. This association remains cryptically embedded in his argu- Studies, 54, p. 147.
ment since Beti apparently does not yet perceive how popular literary cul-
18. Alessandro Triulzi,
ture might reconcile the simultaneous conditions of mass appeal and the ‘African Cities,
criterion of representational ‘realism’. Though it seems that like his African Historical Memory
American model, Richard Wright, Beti rejects popular or ‘formulaic fiction’, and Street Buzz’, in
Iain Chambers and
this reading interprets ‘littérature rose’ as anticipating the possibility of ‘lit- Lidia Curti (eds), The
térature noire’ –African fiction, but also noir fiction. That is, it would not be Post-Colonial Question,
the popular that is problematic so much as the genre one chooses. Within New York: Routledge,
78-91, p. 78.
the broad register of the popular, one genre, romance fiction, is deemed use-
less and alienating/alienated; the other, noir, follows the parameters of 19. Referring to the
unavailability of
what critic Bernard Mouralis calls a ‘counterliterature’, that is, a literature news, Beti will say in
that actively resists the normative strictures of the bourgeois high literary Main-basse sur le
model.16 Cameroun that ‘sous
Ahmidou Ahidjo, le
In an interview conducted shortly before his death, the author revisits ‘citoyen’ camerounais
the issues raised in ‘Afrique Noire’ and begins to explain his move towards n’ignore pas seulement
noir. Of particular note is his emphasis on a new setting for his narratives. les évènements de
l’étranger […] il ne
Discussing his last two novels with Cameroonian critic Ambroise Kom, he connaîtra que par le
emphasizes that, ‘dans Trop de soleil tue l’amour, je mets en scène pour la tam-tam africain et à
première fois peut-être des […] citadins. C’est vrai, c’est la première fois.’17 travers ces
déformations
While this may be the first time, as I have suggested, he has been travelling habituelles, les évène-
the road between city and country since the beginning. Beti does not priv- ments importants qui
ilege the city only because Africa is increasingly urban, however. He also se seront déroulés
dans un quartier
does so because there he finds a voice, a ‘language’, a new aesthetic tem- voisin du sien […]’.
plate and palette. This new voice is connected to ‘l’amorce d’une langue Mongo Beti, Main
collective, un français collectif ’, that despite what the author sees as its Basse sur le Cameroun,
Rouen: Peuples noirs,
semantic limitations ‘peut aider à la communication des gens de dif- 1984, p. 99.
férentes ethnies, […] une langue populaire’ (p. 147).
20. Yet, there is another
Though latent throughout his œuvre, this langue populaire corresponds significant aspect to
to what Alessandro Triulzi has called ‘rumor and street buzz’, also known this move that speaks
in francophone Africa as ‘radio trottoir’ or ‘radio tam-tam’. This is a rhi- to his life’s work. His
whole career, it would
zomatic medium of circulation of unknown origin and destination. For seem, and this with
Triulzi, ‘This return of orality and its shift from the country to the city is all of the irony that
one of the new signs of contemporary Africa and its strategies of identity.’ his 34 years in France
imply, has been to
Contrasting this new vernacular form to older forms of speech, he adds exorcize France from
that this is ‘no longer the fixed, ennobled word of oral tradition, passed on Africa’s system. His
by the griots […]’. Instead, ‘it is the living word, profane and multiform, of move to crime fiction
is also motivated by
the new, urban generations of independent Africa’.18 Such a popular mode the need to escape the
of dissemination is increasingly proliferating throughout an African urban oppressive binary,
fiction set upon depicting a world in which informational transactions Africa-France. The
turn to crime fiction
occur under the vest, au noir.19 The idea is, therefore, that this ‘français is also a move away
collectif ’ should operate beyond the reach of state radio and television, and from France as a
outside the networks of a corrupt and/or ineffective press. Because crime monolithic entity.
This is not, however,
fiction is the genre historically most attentive to this form of vernacular in order to substitute
exchange, it becomes increasingly clear why Beti chose this particular tra- French hegemony for
dition to pursue his project: not only because it is expressly urban,20 but local hegemony, a
gesture that would
because it is also a genre historically preoccupied with the vernacular.
fall into precisely the The shift to the detective novel nevertheless happened in a striking way.
trap that he warned As Beti repeatedly notes in interviews and in his writing, his primary
against in ‘littérature
rose’. In a striking concern is to communicate effectively with the Cameroonian people, an
shift, he suggests an imperative that became even more pressing once he had returned from
altogether new exile in 1993. Yet, Beti sensed that he was not reaching his desired
literary genealogy.
audience because the people could not afford his books and his writing
21. Op. cit. Mongo Beti was too ideological, too serious. At this moment of aesthetic doubt, Beti
parle, p. 109.
This scene in fact decided to listen to a quasi-literary agent, ‘qui m’avait suggéré de changer
astonishingly echoes un peu ma manière d’écrire.’ Given his long career, this seems like a radi-
a scene that occurred cal solution; nevertheless, Beti promised to try, ‘en lui expliquant [que] je
thirty five years
earlier: ‘It so suis un grand admirateur de Chester Himes, un passionné des romans
happened that while I policiers.’ He concludes ‘[j]e vais essayer de faire dans le genre.’21 As he
was [in Paris] I ran undoubtedly knows, the association of ‘faire dans le genre’ (emphasis
into the man who had
translated my first added) and Chester Himes (1909–84) is rich with potential because the
novel into French, African American likewise found the means of commenting on white
Marcel Duhamel, who exploitation by turning to crime fiction. Once again, an African American
was then the director
of Gallimard’s detective author serves to project in an exemplary manner, the possibility of an
[…] series, La Série innovative francophone textuality, this time within a postcolonial-pop aes-
Noire, the only one thetic. Beti’s own crime fiction is thus situated within another ‘black
then successful in
France. And he asked Atlantic’ gesture, a second stylistic and thematic opening to the African
me how would I like diaspora that doubles the early nod to Richard Wright. It likewise appeals
to write a detective to the complex histories connecting Africa to the United States and
story for his series.
‘I would if I knew France. Whereas fame eluded Himes in his homeland, he found it in
how…’ (Chester France and in French (a language he never learned). Appealing to this
Himes, My Life of complex biography allows Beti to appropriate a non-French literary tradi-
Absurdity, New York:
Paragon House, tion while recognizing the problematic relationship of English to the
1990, p.101–2). African American experience, thereby strategically replacing one oppres-
22. As another sive history with another. Beti’s choice of crime fiction happens through
circumstantial crime an author who struggled to publish and sell his work throughout his life
writer, Boris Vian, and who turned to crime fiction out of necessity, for whom writing crime
would ironically state
in the ‘translators’ novels provided access to the literary marketplace.22 If one takes seriously
preface’ to J’irai cracher Beti’s argument, ‘qu’on ne peut tenir pour chef-d’œuvre, du point de vue
sur vos tombes, ‘ma foi, de l’efficacité actuelle, une œuvre que personne ne lit ni ne connaît’ (p. 134),
c’est une manière de
vendre sa salade.’ That Himes’ exemplary fiction guides Beti towards the specific means of privi-
is, crime sells. leging accessibility and popularity over ‘intellectual’ and ‘high-literary’
Boris Vian, J’irai concerns that he had been seeking since Ville cruelle.
cracher sur vos tombes,
Paris: Editions du In addition to the shift in genre, the move to crime fiction in the last two
Scorpion, 1946, p.9. novels, Trop de soleil tue l’amour and Branle-bas en noir et blanc, also represents a
23. Though this character, dramatic move away from the earnestness of the romantic revolutionary ideal
Zam, is Beti’s first true evident in Beti’s previous works. While his earliest protagonist is illiterate,
writer-as-character, he subsequent ones are not. In each case, the author’s vehement prose under-
appears in various
mutations in at least scores the indispensability of writing, and by extension, of the writer. In Trop
six works. In all of de soleil, which almost functions as an anti-Künstlerroman, this authorial
them, he represents a ghost finally appears – only to disappear – in the figure of an intellectual jour-
pure revolutionary
potential, whether as nalist.23 The difference here is that, as already noted, in this final incarnation
the innocent yet the character metamorphoses into a helpless and hopeless author, who
sophisticated throughout Trop de soleil drinks himself to death in endless bouts of self-pity
Guillaume Dzewatama
(nicknamed Zam) or and disappears altogether from the second novel. Indeed, in the closing
as the orphan moments of Branle-bas we learn that Zam has mysteriously self-immolated,
Mor-Zamba of apparently killing several hundred people in the process in a symbolic
384 Pim Higginson

expiation of his double guilt: of collaboration with the government in his early Remember Ruben
years, and of impotent intellectualism in his subsequent role as a journalist in (1974) and La Ruine
presque cocasse d’un
the opposition. polichinelle (1979).
Parallel to Zam, and replacing him entirely in Branle-bas, is an altogether
24. Mongo Beti, Trop de
different kind of character, a lawyer ‘qui n’en était pas vraiment un’, and who soleil tue l’amour, Paris:
‘s’appelait communément Eddie, bien qu’Eddie ne fût pas vraiment son nom, Julliard, 1999, p. 42.
ainsi qu’il arrive souvent ici, surtout depuis ces dix dernières années qui ont 25. His moniker derives
vu l’anarchie, la fraude et le désarroi envahir la société.’24 The antithesis of from the saxophonist
Zam, Eddie25 is the very essence of the urban, not to say cosmopolitan prag- Eddie ‘Lockjaw’ Davis,
and thus serves as one
matist. He has lived in France (from which he was forcibly ‘chartered’ out of dozens of references to
the country for dealing in drugs) and in the United States where he unsuc- American culture,
cessfully tried to be a Jazz musician. He has money from untraceable sources and particularly Jazz,
in the story. Indeed,
and a counterfeit law degree. In contrast to the highly educated Zam, Eddie’s Beti’s novel reminds
cultural capital consists of an intimate knowledge ‘des œuvres complètes de one of a Boris Vian
feu Coluche’. However, Eddie is highly educated –street smart – in matters of novel. Vian, who is
explicitly mentioned
survival in an illogical postcolonial universe. Confirming the imbrication of in Branle-bas, is also
his character and the emerging crime genre that houses him, late in Trop de tied to the crime tradi-
soleil, Eddie announces, ‘je viens de me reconvertir dans la police privée, tion and questions of
racial identity.
enquêtes, filature et le toutim. Il paraît que c’est l’avenir de la littérature et de
l’humanisme’ (p. 159). 26. She has been taken
by a trafficking and
A brief summary of both novels may be useful here. Following the prostitution ring.
social and epistemological collapse characteristic of noir’s narrative envi-
27. This in large part
ronment, neither story really leads anywhere. In Trop de soleil, Zam the explains Eddie’s effec-
writer/journalist mysteriously loses his Jazz CDs, finds a dead body in his tiveness, for, as the
apartment, drinks, whines and insults his girlfriend who finally disappears. narrator notes, ‘Eddie
n’a jamais aimé que le
At the conclusion of the first story, a son (he never knew he had) kidnaps faux’ (op. cit. p. 158).
and tortures him for the (supposed?) rape of his mother which led to his
conception. In the meantime Eddie, the pseudo-lawyer, tries to keep the
writer out of jail for the murder that produces the body and subsequently
spends time looking for Zam’s girlfriend, Bébète, when she disappears.
Midway through, a French character, Georges, who has had a child with
Bébète, begins to search for her as well. In this parallel narrative, the
Frenchman (perhaps a ‘barbouze’) winds up in a strange castle in the
countryside owned by a high-ranking government official. There, Georges
has an ‘affair’ with a barely pubescent girl, witnesses various horrors
committed by the regime, and discovers that Bébète has been kidnapped.26
In the second volume of Branle-bas, Zam disappears as well. Instead, Eddie
the lawyer-become-detective allies with Georges to form a bi-racial odd-
couple looking for Bébète. They get involved in a series of increasingly con-
voluted side stories in which nothing is as it appears.27 The tale ends with
Georges apparently planning on living polygamously with two women,
Eddie contemplating an unlikely true love affair with a prostitute and Zam
having burned to death. Attempting to summarize this absurdist series of
twists and turns, that is closer to a carefully crafted series of set pieces, is
almost hopeless. Despite the difficulty of producing an effective summary,
it is clear that both novels exploit the standard features of the crime novel
inasmuch as they are far more about mood than about conveying a
coherent story.
This paradoxical stasis is consistent with the typological specificities of
noir. Rather than adhere to a Bakhtinian chronotope that exemplifies the
28. For more on these bourgeois novel, crime fiction focuses on the environmental elements that
tropes, within an constitute modernity. As such, the genre constructs its narrative universe
African context, see
my article in Yale through a series of recurring concerns or tropes that mirror many of the
French Studies: Pim themes of the francophone African realist novel of the 1950s and 1960s.28
Higginson, ‘Mayhem Among these are: the place of writing and its relation to the vernacular or
at the Crossroads: The
Rise of Francophone what Raymond Chandler calls ‘the speech of common men’;29 the speci-
African Crime Fiction’, ficity of the narrative’s urban setting;30 a stylized emphasis on the role of
Crime Fictions, Andrea movement, particularly expressed as speed, or what Francis Lacassin calls
Goulet and Susanna
Lee (eds), New Haven: ‘[l]e mouvement, intense ou anodin’; what, in his comment on the Série
Yale UP, 2005, pp. Noire he had just launched, Marcel Duhamel called, ‘de la violence – sous
160-176. For the toutes ses formes et particulièrement les plus honnies – du tabassage et du
specifically tropological
aspect of the genre, see massacre’; the place and role of capital.31 Finally, organizing these various
John Cawelti’s ground- tropes (writing, space, speed, the body, capital) both textually and meta-
breaking work on the textually is the question of the law. These categories appear repeatedly in
crime genre in his
Adventure, History, and various forms throughout the crime tradition. They are also, to an aston-
Romance: Formula ishing degree, the very issues that Beti covers in ‘Afrique Noire’ and in Ville
Stories as Art and cruelle and yet for which he fails to discover an appropriate aesthetic solution
Popular Culture (1976).
precisely because of the (epistemological and economic) laws regulating,
29. See Raymond or rather (following the dire conclusions of his essay) preventing, African
Chandler’s famous
essay, ‘The Simple Art writing.
of Murder’. For a The turn to crime fiction at the end integrates the violent contradictions of
broader discussion of ‘legality’, particularly for an African author, into the narrative medium. Trop
the rise of vernacular
fictions see Gavin de soleil and Branle-bas make extensive use of each one of the aforementioned
Jones’ broad study of tropes while couching them in the irony that characterizes the hard-boiled
what he calls ‘dialect school of the 1930s onwards, and that is a salient feature of Himes’ writing as
literature’.
well. However, the novels reserve their most scathing commentary for the
30. This urban imperative government, police and judges who constitute the ‘legal’ apparatus of the
has been repeatedly
noted in the critical
country. This is where Beti’s most persistent ideological concern, the total
assessments of the absence of civil society in Cameroon, gains its greatest traction. In the
genre from Gilbert process, he participates in an evolving postcolonial-popular aesthetic that not
Keith (G.K.)
Chesterton’s ‘Defense
only corresponds to the confounding absurdity, violence and anarchy of the
of Detective Stories’ current Cameroonian (and more broadly, African) situation but also roots
(1901) through Regis itself in a longstanding and complex legacy of similar representations, most
Messac’s Le ‘Detective
Novel’ et l’influence de
importantly, that of Chester Himes, that have evolved globally. This cross
la pensée scientifique grafting onto the American crime tradition posits a necessary literary-
(1929) and beyond. ontological origin while displacing the colonial discourse so problematically
31. There have been located in Beti’s earliest meditations on the condition(s) of African writing. In
numerous discussions short, Beti discovers that one way of outmanoeuvring the law preventing
of this particular ques-
tion. Perhaps the most
African writing is to actively engage in the crime (writing) that was implicit
entertaining and politi- all along.
cally mordent is in The specific constitutive elements of both conceptions of the literary
Jean-Patrick
Manchette’s Chroniques
are evident from the outset in the juxtaposition of the two figures of the
where he explicitly educated writer and the trafficking lawyer, Zam and Eddie. As we have
connects the advent of seen, the turn away from Zam marks a shift. Aesthetically speaking, what
the hard-boiled novel
with the victory of
is perhaps most striking is that, while irony had always been an important
high capitalism. feature of his writing, here Beti unleashes a dizzying flow of slang, word
plays, inside jokes, historical, pop and high-cultural references and physical
gags.
Nevertheless, the most pressing aspect of Beti’s narratives is his scathing
and grimly humorous critique of Cameroonian lawlessness. References to
386 Pim Higginson

this legal vacuum are everywhere. For example, the narrator nicknames 32. It should be noted
Eddie’s policeman friend Norbert, ‘le Flic amateur d’extra’ because he extorts that all the murders
of highly visible public
money – the ‘extra’ of his name – from cab drivers as he directs traffic. figures in the novel
Norbert’s direct superior (with whom he shares his ill-gotten gains) is are taken from exist-
‘honest’ because he has only taken bribes personally a few dozen times. In ing cases, or, as with
the lynching, from
fact, taking bribes and extorting money is the only real task the police per- common occurrences
form since they are expressly forbidden from engaging in any manner of in the Cameroonian
investigation because any inquest inevitably leads to the guilty regime. capital.
Norbert himself gets away with murder by having Eddie, whose law degree
is fake, ‘talk’ to the judge. Ironically underscoring the critical state of the
country, one of the characters mockingly tells Eddie that you cannot
become a private eye in the absence of a legitimate police force with which
to contrast yourself. Eddie himself notes that ‘dans une société taillée à
coups de serpe par la violence au bénéfice de la mafia en place et surtout
de ses parrains lointains, survie et probité étaient inconciliables’ (p. 173).
This world has no laws; or rather, these are made up by those with the
power and/or shrewdness to do so. As Eddie ironically notes elsewhere,
Chez nous, le chef de l’Etat fait dans l’évasion des capitaux, ministres et haut
fonctionnaires dans l’import-export et autres business pas toujours honnêtes,
curés et évêques dans le maraboutisme, assureurs et banquiers dans l’extor-
sion de fonds comme les gangsters, les écolières dans la prostitution, leurs
mamans dans le maquereautage, le toubib dans le charlatanisme, les garag-
istes dans le trafic de voitures volées, on fait tous dans l’escroquerie (p. 224).
What Eddie describes is the grim negation of a functional civil society;

everything operates contrary to the way it should; such would be the only
law to transcend individual interests. It is important to add that, as the
expression ‘parrains lointains’ in the previous citation, and the presence of
Georges in both novels, make amply clear that corruption spreads out far
beyond the African continent, implicating the West as an equal ‘partner in
crime’, and as the greatest beneficiary of Cameroon’s necrosis. Equally
important, the proliferation of criminal enterprises is ultimately the product
of a feral capitalism in which the latent features of this particular western
economic model reappear atavistically. In other words, perhaps the most
consistent preoccupation of every character in both novels (with the
exception of Georges, who is comfortably bourgeois) is the accumulation of
money, thus, in more visibly grotesque form, the same principles driving a
western liberal democracy.
Perhaps the most dramatic instance of the lawlessness and corruption
Beti describes is manifest in the overwhelming violence that saturates both
novels. Deaths occur at regular intervals, from the discovery of the body in
Zam’s apartment in the very beginning of Trop de soleil, to the floating
body of the young pimp in the baseball outfit late in Branle-bas. These var-
ious murders and beatings happen locally within every echelon of society,
from the presidential palace (where rumour has it that the president has
killed his own wife) to the highly disturbing and graphic description of the
mob lynching of a young Chadian thief.32 In the latter case, Georges’s
shock at this scene contrasts dramatically with the complete disinterest of
the numerous other witnesses (including two police officers). As was the
case with the lawless accumulation of capital, and despite Georges’s

repeatedly expressed disgust, France participates in various ways in making
this horror possible. The numerous references to the old colonial power’s
abetment of the Rwandan genocide, the shadowy French advisors who
populate the background of the text and the equally troubling revelation
of France’s illegal disposal of dioxin in Cameroon all speak of the ways in
which Africa is – and is also produced as – a site of ubiquitous violence.
Physical coercion is ultimately the most prominent form of political and
economic exchange. In this context, the law is what Rousseau in his Social
Contract ironically labels, ‘la loi du plus fort’. That is, power offers two pos-
sibilities: to those with something to offer, accept corruption or expect
physical coercion; to the rest, await further debasement. In the final analy-
sis both novels suggest that the law (should one name it thus) expresses
itself almost exclusively through violence, with the most extreme and ter-
rifying form being murder. The fact that murder is the most consistent
motivating narrative trigger for virtually all crime fiction makes it clear
once again why the genre should be so appealing to an author living in a
land where a killing is a quotidian, almost banal occurrence.
In conclusion, Mongo Beti’s (1955) ‘Afrique Noire, littérature rose’
analyses African writing from three different perspectives. The first two
consist of imperatives. The novel should be realistic, meaning that it
should honestly portray the grim reality of African modernity and the
sources of ambient oppression as the necessary effects of the colonial expe-
rience. Next, it should be popular; Beti believes that literary greatness
depends on universal accessibility – that a novel not read by the ‘grand
public’ is not successful. From these two imperatives, he proceeds to exam-
ine the conditions of possibility of this ideal literature in his third major
point, which is that the single most important institutional force determining
the success or failure of an African novel is editorial power. Unfortunately,
this third point complicates the earlier two. Examined more closely, the
acknowledgement of French editorial hegemony ultimately makes the rec-
onciliation of his initial guiding criteria, realism and popularity, impossible
to follow since it assures that what is popular is not realistic and what is
realistic is unpublishable (and/or unmarketable).
Forty-five years later, while Beti’s guiding literary principles remain intact,
the postcolonial environment brings the incongruity between an earnest
high-literary aesthetic and the absurd anarchy of Cameroon into even
sharper focus. Such material circumstances further press African literature to
account for the neocolonial interests and puppet regimes insuring that the
continent is increasingly urban, anarchic and poor. Yet, inasmuch as these
same material factors also condition the editorial sector, African literature
fails to speak to the very people whose lives Beti assigns it to document and
revolutionize. As we have now seen, the solution to the apparently impossible
reconciliation of the popular and the realistic in the face of these overwhelm-
ing constraints is a strategic turn towards crime fiction. Just as significantly,
African American author Chester Himes discovered the crime genre at virtu-
ally the same moment as the younger writer was penning ‘Afrique Noire,
littérature rose’, making the African’s later critical turn possible.
Crime fiction’s appeal is first practical. The genre proves structurally
adequate to African conditions because the hard-boiled crime novel evolved
388 Pim Higginson

under – and accounts for – similar conditions: the corrupt inner-colonization 33. The irony is that both
of the United States inherent to a victorious Fordist economy. The genre’s high literary genres
(e.g. Dickenson,
representational tools and tropes assure the adequate equation of modern Balzac) and the origi-
urban reality and literary representation. Perhaps the most important fea- nal lowbrow crime
ture in this respect is the genre’s exploration of the vernacular because it genre (Poe, Gaboriaux)
were often published
signals noir’s demotic preoccupations while also facilitating its appeal to in serial form thus
those it describes. Just as significantly, in the case of both Himes and Beti, confusing the
editorial advice actually led to this literary metamorphosis. Indeed, apparent distinction
largely developed in
whereas the various fictional and non-fictional broadsides that both the twentieth century
authors produced sold relatively poorly, their crime novels sold briskly, concerning the realist
thereby allowing them to pursue their ideologically inflected literary pro- novel between serial
pulps and highbrow
jects. Appealing to capitalist principles of profit finally cut the Gordian hard covers. It should
knot of editorial control: profit is the single most important motive of the also be noted that
publishing industry, and as popular fiction, crime sells. In the final analy- some have argued for
both Balzac and
sis, profit trumps politics. Dickenson as
The proof of Beti’s fundamental understanding of the ideological implica- inaugural figures of
tions and possibilities of this literary choice are evident in how he finally the detective/crime
genre.
decided to publish his last two novels. He first donated Trop de soleil tue l’amour
and Branle-bas en noir et blanc to Le Messager, an opposition newspaper which 34. Boubakar Boris Diop,
‘Mongo Beti et nous’,
ran both stories in serial form. As such, he doubled the power of his criticism http://1libertaire.free.
of the ruling regime by using his name to promote a largely accessible venue fr/MongoBeti01.html
in which readers would not only read his contributions, but other critical
voices as well. He then sold the manuscripts to the French publisher Julliard,
which in turn marketed the novels in France to considerable success, thereby
assuring Beti the necessary income to continue running his Yaoundé book-
store, Librairies des peuples noirs. In the process, perhaps for the first time, Beti
succeeded in touching equally French and African publics. Finally, rather
than unwittingly paying tribute to the French cultural ideal by publishing in
a venue and a genre inherited from the colonial experience, he cunningly
transcended this high literary heritage by using a newspaper;33 and by
appealing to an African American, and native English speaker, Chester
Himes, as his literary model. In the process, he left us two significant – and
wildly funny and entertaining – novels to consider as we continue to ponder
his rich and complex legacy. Perhaps the writer Boubakar Boris Diop best
summed the effect of these two novels and their paradoxical simultaneous
break with – and continuation of – the Cameroonian author’s literary past:
[…]Trop de soleil tue l’amour et Branle-bas en blanc et noir frappent par leur furie
jubilatoire. Après quatorze années de silence entre Le roi miraculé et Main
basse sur le Cameroun, il avait peut-être envie de faire un sort à la littérature
elle-même. Ses derniers textes donnent pourtant l’impression d’une boucle
qui se referme, car Mongo Beti semble y avoir retrouvé la joie d’écrire de ses
jeunes années, avec en prime l’amertume et le désir de foutre le bordel.34
As Diop suggests, the Cameroonian author concluded his exemplary liter-

ary career with two aggressively disruptive counter-literary works. What
Diop makes equally clear is the deep ideological engagement that persists
in these narratives. As I have argued throughout this essay, the crime
genre authorizes the optimistically anarchistic ‘furie jubilatoire’ that had
always been at the heart of Mongo Beti’s literary project.
References
Barber, Karen (1997), ‘Introduction’, in Karen Barber (ed.), Readings in Africa
Popular Culture, Bloomington: Indiana UP, pp. 1–12.
Beti, Mongo (1984), Main Basse sur le Cameroun, Rouen: Peuples noirs.
—— (1999), Trop de soleil tue l’amour, Paris: Julliard.
—— (2000), Branle-bas en noir et blanc, Paris: Pocket.
Bongie, Chris (2003), ‘Exiles on Main Stream: Valuing the Popularity of Popular
Culture’, Postmodern Culture, 14: 1, electronic journal, paragraph number
1053–1920.
Boto, Eza (1955), ‘Afrique Noire, littérature rose’, Présence Africaine, 1: 5, pp. 133–40.
Camara, Laye (1994), L’Enfant noir, Paris: Pocket.
Cawelti, John G. (1976), Adventure, Mystery, and Romance: Formula Stories as Art
and Popular Culture, Chicago: Chicago UP.
Chandler, Raymond (1995), ‘The Simple Art of Murder’, Raymond Chandler: Later
Novels and other Writings, New York: The Library of America.
Chesterton, Gilbert Keith (1946), ‘In Defense of the Detective Story’, in Howard
Haycraft (ed.), The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays, New
York: Simon and Schuster, pp. 3–6.
Diop, Boubakar Boris, ‘Mongo Beti et Nous’, http://1libertaire.free.fr/MongoBeti01.
html
Accessed on 20/7/2007.
Duhamel, Marcel (1948), http://www.gallimard.fr/collections/fiche_serienoire.
htm
Accessed on 22/7/2007
Gilroy, Paul (1993), Black Atlantic, Cambridge: Harvard UP.
Higginson, Pim (2005), ‘Mayhem at the Crossroads: The Rise of Francophone African
Crime Fiction’, in Andrea Goulet and Susanna Lee (eds), Crime Fictions, New
Haven: Yale UP, pp. 160–76.
Himes, Chester (1990), My Life of Absurdity, New York: Paragon House.
Jones, Gavin (1999), Strange Talk: The Politics of Dialect Literature in Gilded Age America,
Berkeley: California UP.
Kane, Mohamadou (1982), Roman africain et tradition, Dakar: Nouvelles Editions
Africaines.
Kom, Ambroise (ed.) (2002), Mongo Béti Parle, Bayreuth: Eckhard Breitinger,
African Studies Series, 54.
Lacassin, Francis (1993), Mythologie du roman policier, Paris: Christian Bourgeois. 200.
Manchette, Jean-Patrick (2003), Chroniques, Paris: Payots & Rivages.
Messac, Regis (1929), Le ‘detective novel’ et l’influence de la pensee scientifique, Paris:
Honoré Champion.
Miller, Christopher (1990), Theories of Africans, Chicago: UP Chicago.
Mouralis, Bernard (1975), Les Contre-littératures, Paris: PUF.
Murphy, David (2003), ‘De-centering French Studies: Towards a Postcolonial
Theory of Francophone Cultures’, French Cultural Studies, 13, pp. 165–85.
Stephen H. Arnold (ed.) (1998), Critical Perspectives on Mongo Beti, Boulder, Colo:
Lynne Rienner.
Thomas, Dominic (2005), ‘Intersections and Trajectories’, in H. Adlai Murdoch
and Anne Donadey (eds), Postcolonial Theory and Francophone Literary Studies,
Gainesville, Florida: UP Florida, pp. 235–57.
390 Pim Higginson

Triulzi, Alessandro (1996), ‘African Cities, Historical Memory and Street Buzz’, in
Iain Chambers and Lidia Curti (eds), The Post-Colonial Question, New York:
Routledge, pp. 78–91.
Vian, Boris (1946), J’irai cracher sur vos tombes, Paris: Editions du Scorpion.
Wright, Richard (1991), Black Boy, New York: Library of America.
Suggested citation
Higginson, P. (2007), ‘A descent into crime: explaining Mongo Beti’s last two
novels’, International Journal of Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 377–391,
doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.377/1
Contributor details
Pim Higginson is an associate professor at Bryn Mawr College where he teaches
courses on French and francophone literature. He is currently completing a book
manuscript on the francophone African crime novel. He has also written on the
relationship between music, writing and constructions of racial identity, and has
published essays on food as an ideological construct within the francophone novel.
Contact: French and Francophone Studies Department, Bryn Mawr College, 101
North Merion Ave, Bryn Mawr, PA 19010.
E-mail: fhiggins@brynmawr.edu
IJFS_10.3_07_art_Munro.qxd 11/6/07 4:16 PM Page 393

Listening to Caribbean history: music and

rhythm in Daniel Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil
Martin Munro University of the West Indies
Abstract Keywords
This article deals with the relationship between music, rhythm and black Caribbean Caribbean
history and identity. It begins by considering briefly some of the ways that sounds, Glissant
including music and rhythm, shaped and defined the experience of slavery, and then history
argues that despite the importance of rhythm to this experience and to subsequent Jazz
Caribbean cultural history, most critics and scholars have tended to neglect or Maximin
ignore rhythm in their work. Drawing evidence from Daniel Maximin’s novel L’Isolé memory
soleil (1981), the article argues that the grand historical sweep of Maximin’s novel, music
and the recurrence of rhythm and music in the text at many key stages of rhythm
Guadeloupean, Caribbean and broader black diasporic history seems to suggest an slavery
intimate bond between rhythm, music and Caribbean identity, a bond that Maximin
implies has been continually strengthened, even as it has mutated, from the slavery
period to the present. The article also considers some of the ways in which Maximin’s
work relates to that of Édouard Glissant, notably in terms of narrative structures,
and in the authors’ conceptions of history, memory and music. Finally, I suggest
that Maximin’s novel prefigures the current interest among historians of under-
standing the past through considering its auditory aspects.
Résumé
Cet article traite du rapport entre la musique, le rythme, l’histoire et l’identité des
Antilles. Il débute en considérant les façons dont les sons, parmi lesquels ceux de la
musique et du rythme, ont formé et défini l’expérience de l’esclavage. Selon nous, mal-
gré l’importance du rythme dans cette expérience et dans l’histoire culturelle antil-
laise en général, la grande majorité des critiques négligent le rythme dans leurs
études. En nous basant sur une étude détaillée du roman de Daniel Maximin, L’Isolé
soleil (1981), nous montrons que ce texte attribue une position prééminente au
rythme et à la musique à des moments-clés de l’histoire de la Guadeloupe, des Antilles
et plus généralement du monde de la diaspora noire. Il s’ensuit que Maximin propose
un rapport très étroit entre la musique, le rythme et l’identité antillaise, qui persiste
encore à l’époque contemporaine. Nous considérons aussi des points de convergence
entre l’œuvre de Maximin et celle d’Édouard Glissant, notamment sur le plan de la
structure narrative, et de leurs conceptions de l’histoire, de la mémoire et de la
musique. Finalement, nous suggérons que dans ce roman Maximin anticipe l’intérêt
qu’on trouve parmi certains historiens pour les aspects auditifs du passé.
How did slavery sound? What did the slave ship, the plantation, slave
revolts and slave dances sound like? Were the sounds of slavery similar

1. Jacqueline Sieger, across the plantations of the New World, from Brazil to Virginia? What par-
‘Entretien avec Aimé ticular sounds have persisted through time, and can still be heard today,
Césaire’, Afrique, no.
5, October 1961, and do these sounds constitute living ties with the past, parts of history that
p. 65, cited in Georges have outlived slavery, and yet still bear witness to the lived experience of
Ngal, Aimé Césaire: Un bondage? Slavery had many discordant sounds: the cracking of overseers’
homme à la recherche
d’une patrie, Paris: whips; the cries and screams of slaves; the pealing of bells and the sounding
Présence Africaine, of conch shells to mark out different periods of the slaves’ working day; the
1994, p. 152. grating, mechanical noise of the sugar refineries; the call-and-response
2. See Nick Nesbitt, singing of working slaves; the genteel sounds of the masters’ dances and the
Voicing Memory: drumming, singing and clapping that accompanied slave dances on week-
History and Subjectivity
in French Caribbean ends and holidays. Many of these sounds, both musical and industrial, were
Literature, rhythmic and repetitive, sonic accompaniments to lives that were them-
Charlottesville and selves governed by repeated routines and rhythmic patterns of work.
London: University of
Virginia Press, 2003, If rhythm was a fundamental aspect of slave experience, and if it is still
pp. 147–63. one of the most persistent aspects of Caribbean culture, it remains also
3. See Jason Herbeck, perhaps one of the most misunderstood and under-theorized elements of
‘“Jusqu’aux limites de Caribbean historical and cultural experience. There is generally a reticence
l’improvisation”: among Caribbeanist critics to mention rhythm, especially it seems among
Caribbean Identity
and Jazz in Daniel non-black, non-Caribbean observers. The reason for this reticence no
Maximin’s L’Isolé doubt lies in the longstanding negative, stereotypical image of the naturally
soleil’, Dalhousie rhythmic black, and in critics’ unwillingness to be construed as essential-
French Studies, 71,
Summer 2005, ist, reductivist or worse, racist. Another related reason for the critical
pp. 161–75 (p. 174). neglect of rhythm, at least in the francophone postcolonial domain, is that
rhythm is most closely related to Négritude’s outmoded ideas on race and
culture; few authors would declare now as Césaire did in 1961 that rhythm
‘est une donnée essentielle de l’homme noir.’1 Indeed, most critics would
quite rightly question such an assertion, much as both René Ménil (1981)
and Frantz Fanon (1952) did in Tracées and Peau noire, masques blancs,
respectively. In the post-Fanon era, rhythm has almost become a taboo
subject for critics wary of racial and cultural essentialism. But to ignore
rhythm completely is to neglect a fundamentally important feature of
Caribbean aesthetics, history, and indeed contemporary lived experience.
A more engaged, interdisciplinary criticism is required if we are to arrive
at a sophisticated and enlightened understanding of Caribbean rhythm.
Scholars will have to engage not only with literature, but also with broader
Caribbean cultural history, with, for example, the history of Carnivals,
dance, drumming and black Atlantic music more generally. Nick Nesbitt’s
work on Daniel Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil, which uses jazz theory to tease out
the intricate relationships between the novel and North American jazz,
indicates the creative and critical potential of this kind of interdisciplinary
approach.2 Similarly, with an emphasis on the ‘unique harmonic idiom’ of
Maximin’s jazz-influenced narrative, Jason Herbeck has skilfully used the-
ories of jazz improvisation in his reading of L’Isolé soleil.3 This article to
some extent complements Nesbitt’s and Herbeck’s work on Maximin’s
novel; at the same time, however, my interest lies more specifically in
rhythm as a fundamental feature of Caribbean music, and in rhythm’s
long, evolving association with black Caribbean identity. I argue that the
grand historical sweep of Maximin’s novel, and the recurrence of rhythm
and music in the text at many key stages of Guadeloupean, Caribbean and
broader black diasporic history seems to suggest an intimate bond between
394 Martin Munro

rhythm, music and Caribbean identity, a bond that Maximin implies has 4. As Bongie rightly
been continually strengthened, even as it has mutated, from the time of states, Maximin’s
second novel
slavery to the present. The article also considers some of the ways in Soufrières (1987)
which Maximin’s work relates to that of Édouard Glissant, notably in terms rewrites L’Isolé soleil
of narrative structures, and in their conceptions of history, memory and in ways that echo
Glissant’s own fiction
music. Finally, I will suggest that Maximin’s novel prefigures the current and which read as ‘a
interest among historians in understanding the past through paying belated and parodic
attention to its auditory aspects. homage to the self-ref-
erential world of
Glissant’s novels, with
Memory and music in Maximin and Glissant their cast of recurring
The influence of Édouard Glissant’s early novels, and particularly Le characters and
episodes’. Islands and
Quatrième siècle (1964), ripples across subsequent French Caribbean fic- Exiles: The Creole
tion rhythmically, insistently so that it is possible to trace Glissantian Identities of
themes and figures in the great majority of Antillean novels from the Post/Colonial
Literature, Stanford:
1970s to the present. Perhaps nowhere is this influence so apparent, and Stanford University
so ably incorporated and developed than in the novels of Daniel Maximin, Press, 1998, p. 357.
which much like Glissant’s fiction, are characterized by self-referential 5. Clarisse Zimra,
narrative structures that interrogate history in a way that ‘puts in ques- ‘Introduction to Lone
tion our ability to know the past’ (Nesbitt, p. 148).4 Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil Sun’, Daniel Maximin
Lone Sun,
(1981) largely introduces the themes and characters that he revisits in his Charlottesville:
subsequent two novels, Soufrières (1987) and L’Île et une nuit (1995), and University of Virginia
is a sprawling historical epic in the Glissantian vein, which traverses five Press, 1989, p. xxvii.
generations of Guadeloupean history from slavery to the contemporary 6. Bongie, Islands and
period, and traces the evolution of a discourse of resistance to colonial Exiles, p. 358.
domination and assimilation. As in Glissant’s work, the past in L’Isolé soleil 7. Daniel Maximin,
is not a static, closed entity, and Maximin’s writing is informed by his con- L’Isolé soleil, Paris:
Seuil, 1981, p. 19.
viction that many people create for themselves multiple, shifting concep- Subsequent references
tions of the past, that ‘the present always invents a past for itself out of its to this novel will be
own desire’.5 The ancestral history and the predominantly masculinist indicated in the text.
identity that are typically associated with the Guadeloupean past are 8. H. Adlai Murdoch,
accordingly for Maximin little more than ‘inventions generated out of Creole Identity in the
French Caribbean Novel,
desire, a rhetorical inventio’.6 Maximin’s characters, again like Glissant’s, Gainesville: University
are obsessed with the past, with reinventing history and with various of Florida Press,
modes of remembrance, including personal letters, private diaries, inter- 2001, p. 109.
textual references to Césaire and the Tropiques group, the historical mem-
ory of Guadeloupean rebel Louis Delgrès (incinéré dans nos mémoires) or
writing fiction itself.7 The central figure Marie–Gabriel is primarily preoc-
cupied with reconstructing the lost notebook of her father, Louis–Gabriel,
who died in the 1962 plane crash in Guadeloupe. Louis–Gabriel had written
a history of the Caribbean, and Marie–Gabriel’s narrative becomes, in
part, what Murdoch calls a ‘simulacrum of her father’s journal’, as she
invents a new history which also incorporates the rediscovered writings of
her ancestor Jonathan, her mother Siméa’s journal and the notebook of
her friend Adrien.8 An important aspect of Marie–Gabriel’s project is the
shift that she effects from the male-centred stories of the past to a narra-
tive that incorporates and validates women’s histories. More generally,
Marie–Gabriel is charged with unlocking and repossessing the past:
Tu ouvriras les tiroirs de notre histoire confisquée, ceux d’héroïsme et de

lâcheté, ceux de la faim, de la peur et de l’amour; tu rafraîchiras la mémoire
Listening to Caribbean history: music and rhythm in Daniel Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil 395
9. Glissant’s evolution as des témoignages et des récits, tu mettras la vérité au service de l’imaginaire et
a novelist and theorist non pas le contraire (p. 18).
has been characterized
by an increasing
interest in cultural This distinction, which prioritizes imagination over truth, recalls the way
relation and the Glissant, in Le Quatrième siècle, favours a remembrance evoked from the
broader effects of
cultural and economic senses and the imagination over the memories contained in facts, dates
globalization. At the and incontrovertible truths.
same time, he has There is also a similar dialogic construction of history, a swirl of narra-
retained a primary
interest in the specific tive voices both past and present, figured around the two central voices of
situation of Marie–Gabriel and Adrien. The ‘drawers’ of memory in the novel are related
Martinique. to three key moments in the growth of Guadeloupean consciousness: first,
and most fundamentally, to 1802, when the French army landed in
Guadeloupe to bolster Napoleon’s reintroduction of slavery after eight
years of abolition, and the mulatto army officer Louis Delgrès led a popu-
lar revolt, which ended with his and his soldiers’ mass suicide at Fort
Matouba. The second key moment is Second World War, when Guadeloupe
was controlled by the Vichy government, and resistance inhered in indi-
rect satire and parodies. Third, the crash of a Boeing aircraft carrying the
leaders of the Guadeloupean independence movement in the 1960s is
evoked as a traumatic moment, and related to the wider global maelstrom
of racial militantism, and to the American Black Power movement in par-
ticular. Crucially, then, each of these moments is linked to various periods
when island history clashes or meshes with broader historical developments,
when events on the small island resonate directly with the outside world.
This more outward-looking perspective marks another distinction with
Glissant’s Le Quatrième siècle which, relatively speaking, is more resolutely
focused inwards, towards the specificity and idiosyncrasies of Martinique
and its history.
Consequently, and again in specific relation to Glissant’s novel, Maximin’s
work tends to incorporate outside (black, diasporic) influences more freely
and with more conviction. While Glissant’s novel is firmly grounded in the
specifics of the French Antilles, and while Glissant believes that in many cru-
cial aspects the Caribbean has a shared history, Maximin’s idea of a common
Caribbean (and black Atlantic) culture suggests more directly a fundamental
bond between different islands that generally transcends the local and the
particular and that encompasses ‘une histoire d’archipel, attentive à nos
quatre races, nos sept langues et nos douzaines de sangs’ (p. 9).9 In the words
of the character Siméa, to speak simply of Martinique or Guadeloupe in isola-
tion (and especially in the case of Césaire and the Tropiques group, who apply
European ethnography, psychoanalysis, Marxism and surrealism in their con-
ception of Martinican identity) is a kind of ‘manie’ (p. 193). Identification
with Europe (and also Africa) is to her ‘l’ennemie de l’identité’; and she pro-
poses that all Caribbean people form a single, essentially coherent civilization:
‘Je suis nécessairement Antillaise, et je ne suis Guadeloupéenne que par
hasard!’ (p. 193). Crucially, the single most important means by which this
common black Caribbean (and black Atlantic) culture is transmitted is rhyth-
mic music: L’Isolé soleil is a novel that quite literally moves to the beat of black
musics, from calypso and steeldrum to bolero, merengue and jazz.
Although he does not incorporate music into his work as extensively as
Maximin does, Glissant is nevertheless keenly aware of the importance of
396 Martin Munro

rhythm and music to French Caribbean culture.10 In Caribbean Discourse, 10. Herbeck makes telling
he states plainly his view that music is ‘constitutive’ of Martinican histori- connections between
Glissant’s theories of
cal and everyday existence, and that this is so ‘par le rythme’. Just as he the Caribbean ‘Tout-
tends to look towards Faulkner’s American South for literary models of the monde’ and ideas of
plantation, so he compares the history of Martinican music to the ‘histoire jazz improvisation in
‘Jusqu’aux limites de
prestigieuse’ of jazz. He traces the history of black American music back to l’improvisation’, pp.
the plantation, and to the collapse of the plantation system and the subse- 163–65.
quent migrations, first to New Orleans, then to northern cities such as 11. Édouard Glissant, Le
Chicago and New York. At each historical stage, Glissant says, black Discours antillais,
American music was reborn – gospel, blues from New Orleans and Chicago, Paris: Seuil, 1981;
Seuil Folios, 1997,
Count Basie’s big band, bebop and free jazz – so that the music records the pp. 382–83.
history of the community, ‘son affrontement au réel, les failles par où elle
12. ibid., p. 383.
s’insère, les murailles contre lesquelles trop souvent elle bute’. And if jazz
has become a universal form, he argues, it is because it is never a music ‘en 13. ibid., p. 385.
l’air’, but ‘l’expression d’une situation donnée’.11 14. ibid., p. 112.
When he compares the great musical triumphs of North American 15. ibid., p. 386.
blacks to the history of the Creole song in Martinique and the beguine in
Guadeloupe, Glissant sees a historical rupture between French Caribbean
music and the evolution of the people. When the island plantations col-
lapsed, he says, nothing, neither large-scale urbanization nor industrial-
ization came to replace it, and the Martinican people remained ‘comme en
suspension’. The consequences for Martinican music are that it became
cut off from work and ‘une nécessité existentielle’, ceased to evolve, and
thus became folkloric, ‘au mauvais sens du terme’.12 Even if, he says, the
beguine was in the past the ‘voix’ of the French islands, it ceased to be so
in Martinique in 1902 (the year of the great St. Pierre volcano) and in
Guadeloupe in 1940 – presumably due to the effects of the war, the Vichy
government and then departmentalization in 1946. No longer the reflec-
tion of collective experience, Martinican music has become an empty,
folkloric form. Of course, as Glissant does not state, the emptiness and
stagnation of the music could be viewed as a very direct expression of a
society rendered apathetic by the collapse of all productivity and creativity,
and by the ‘néantisation suspensive’ that is the consequence of depart-
mentalization. By way of contrast, Glissant looks to independent Jamaica,
and to reggae’s emergence as a necessary creation born out of relentless
struggle and resistance.13 Fittingly, Glissant sees the salvation of Martinican
music in its adoption of outside influences – the jazz stylings of the 1930s,
the hybrid contemporary Caribbean forms that mix salsa, reggae and jazz,
and which cross the Atlantic to Africa – and in the possibilities of cultural
syncretism.14 It is this exposure to outside influences that in Glissant’s
view offers the greatest hope for renewal, and which could allow ‘des
enrichissements et des complicités qui permettront de supporter le
non–enracinement, de sauter par–dessus le néant actuel’. 15
‘Taking the music seriously’ in L’Isolé soleil

In effect, Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil enacts and recounts just such a project of
French Antillean renewal through creative engagement with diverse dias-
poric musical styles. The novel is replete with musical references and with
characters who, like the narrator Adrien, are ‘passioné[s] de toutes les
musiques noires américaines’ (p. 25). In the short epilogue, Maximin
16. Daniel Maximin, introduces the idea of the French Caribbean islands as broken and bloody
‘Entretien’, Les fragments, with on every hillside the ruins of the plantation, and yet the
Nouvelles du sud 3,
1986, p. 50. islands continue to exist and are alive to the ‘rythme du tambour–Ka’ (p. 9).
It is, moreover, Marie–Gabriel’s father, Louis–Gabriel, the rootless musician
17. Herbeck, ‘Jusqu’aux
limites de l’improvisa- figure, who weaves Guadeloupean music into the broader tapestry (or sound-
tion’, pp. 173, 174. scape) of New World black diasporic music: a multi-instrumentalist who
plays jazz, beguine and Afro-Cuban, he leaves Vichy Guadeloupe in 1943
and shifts with apparent ease between New York, Cuba, London, Paris and
Haiti, the places where he can play ‘la musique de son cœur’ (p. 17). His
aim, something like Maximin’s, is to write a history of the Antilles through
music (p. 16); and as Maximin himself has said, L’Isolé soleil is a novel
‘which shows from beginning to end the memory of music and song’.16
Much as this history seeks to connect Guadeloupe through music to the
wider diasporic world, it also involves a fundamental inquiry into the func-
tions of the local and the Creole. The narrator Adrien at one point proposes
a long list of axiomatic truths, and among them is the belief that ‘il nous
faut parler créole: le créole des tambouyeurs/le créole des tambours–ka’
(p. 103). A language in other words that is closely associated with rhythm
and music, key aspects of Maximin’s Creole culture. In one party scene, a
current Haitian hit is followed by a Cuban bolero (a ‘sacred’ music and
dance form), and during an intermission a record of Antillean ‘slows’ is
played, a ‘spécialité locale’ based on Creole rhythms and bland lyrics sung
in French rich rhymes. It is, the narrator says, as if emotional pain or
declarations of love were too serious or too derisory for the Creole lan-
guage, which at the time was only used for lascivious allusions and virile
boasts (p. 24). The tacit general acceptance of this linguistic and cultural
distinction is suggested in the observation that the music drifts over the
partygoers without their listening to it (p. 24); the ‘message’ of the separate
roles of French and Creole language and culture is almost subliminally
communicated and accepted. This misconception of Creole culture as
something childlike or banal is, according to Adrien, similarly prevalent in
popular literature, which favours childhood memoirs over the more
engaged writing (specifically that of Césaire and the Tropiques group) that
Maximin’s narrators draw on and cite with the intertextual zeal of the
true disciple. As Adrien says, the danger in endlessly retelling tales of
childhood is that they ‘endorment les cœurs’, and that Caribbean people
be seen as children seeking solace and comfort in the memories of child-
hood, while in reality they are ‘volcans endormis qu’il nous faut réveiller
avec des histories de zombis, de macaques, de bambous, de rhum sec, de
musique et de coutelas’ (p. 24). The model for cultural renewal through
diasporic engagement is once again provided by the example of Louis–
Gabriel, the musician who plays the North American music, jazz, but
whose clarinet notes ‘d’argent fin’ raise the music far above its foundations
in the ‘rythmique grace des blues–men’, like a ‘chapelet d’îles envolées
au–dessus d’un continent. Comme une révolte qui pénètre les cœurs à
petites cuillers pour durer plus profond’ (p. 25). The musician’s aim is not,
therefore, to simply imitate, but to transform, transcend, penetrate and
finally to create something new that reflects the shape and character of
the islands; in Herbeck’s terms, a ‘composite whole’ made up of the novel’s
many ‘disparate voices’.17
398 Martin Munro

The past that Maximin evokes is in fact characterized by the close asso- 18. Glissant, Le Discours
ciation between art and what Glissant calls ‘une nécessité existentielle’.18 antillais, p. 383.
Maximin’s slave figure Georges, at age eighteen one of the best violinists in 19. As Murdoch points
Guadeloupe, teaches fellow slaves to read, and following his teaching, goes out, Georges and
Jonathan are doubled
to play his violin, improvising ‘des mélodies à l’unisson des vois aiguës des with ‘California’s
paysannes, sur le rythme des tambours gros–ka’ (p. 34). In its fusion of Soledad Brothers,
the ‘civilized’ European violin melodies, popular voice and Africanized George and Jonathan
Jackson’, and ‘these
rhythmicity, this scene evokes the plantation as a matrix of creolized culture, temporal intersections
of a new and nameless form emerging from disparate elements. Signi- of resistance and
ficantly, music is presented as a malleable form that in the spontaneous revolt continue to
widen and redefine
jamming of the melodic violinist, the singers and the rhythmic drummers the context of
creates almost immediately something new and unforeseen. Music in this regional identity
case is a means of attaining the creative and identitary freedom that was through its pan-
American points of
denied and suppressed by the institutions of colonialism and slavery, but reference and recall
which was nevertheless an important aspect of the ‘imperatives of the real- the narrator’s concept
ity’ of slave life; it is an indirect, almost subliminal means of inventing and of Caribbean identity
as the product of an
affirming black Creole identity in a situation that as Georges writes, seeks ongoing cultural
to render slaves ‘des êtres sans patrimoine et sans paternité’ (p. 41). This interaction between
idea of music as an invisible force that insinuates itself into the dominant the transplanted
blacks of the Americas’
discourse is reinforced by Georges’s description of his search for liberty (Creole Identity, p. 129).
‘sous l’eau’ (p. 41). In distinction to Jonathan, his twin and a maroon who
lives among the trees and the volcano, Georges says he has chosen to be
‘un enfant du temps, de l’eau et de la nuit’, preferring to live by water and
the shore, slowly forming the ‘pierre précieuse de notre liberté’ (p. 41).19
The destiny of water, he says, is always to flow to the lowest point, the spa-
tial opposite to the volcano, which is associated with the sun, its more
fixed dualistic day-and-night movements, and which is unable to reach the
depths of the water or the deepest forests (p. 41). Georges’s attachment to
water is, therefore, also a commitment to the patient moulding of a more
profound freedom, and just as the water moves inexorably, weaving its way
towards the lowest, deepest parts of the island, so his music permeates the
dominant ideology, slowly eroding it, and touching finally the deepest
parts of the new creolized Antillean reality. Much as Glissant does in
Le Quatrième siècle, Maximin tends to blur the dichotomy between the
mountain and the plain, between the slave and the maroon. Georges calls
for the concerted action of the maroons and the island’s recently emanci-
pated blacks against the combined forces of the planters, proprietors, mil-
itarists, mulattoes and lower class whites, in order to truly liberate
themselves from the treacherous elements and to protect themselves from
the revenge of the French (p. 43). In Georges’s case, education, music and
revolution are interconnected: he spends all of his time teaching black
soldiers in Point-à-Pitre, yet takes time to play music, and composes songs
that comment indirectly on the political situation. He specifically writes a
‘méringue haïtienne’ that tells of rats who entrusted cats to supply the
music for their ball, and who are eaten at midnight by the cats (pp. 44–45).
The refrain clarifies the meaning of the song: ‘Si rat’ v’lé dansé: mèt chat’
dèrô!/Si nèg’ v’lé dansé: mèt’ chat’ dèrô!!’ (p. 45).
The cat, therefore, symbolizes the white man, the mulatto or indeed the
duplicitous black army general – anyone who works to keep the black people
subordinate. The choice of the Haitian meringue form is also significant in
20. Nesbitt, Voicing that Haiti offers to the Guadeloupean rebel a very contemporary example
Silence, p. 148. Of of ‘putting the cat outside’ (mèt chat’ dèrô). More generally, Maximin sug-
Maximin’s French
Caribbean gests some of the ways in which music acts as a vehicle for subversive
predecessors, René ideas, and as a means of spreading revolutionary sentiment. Indeed, in a
Ménil has shown an later scene in the novel when Delgrès is surrounded at Matouba, the gen-
enduring interest in
and engagement with eral says he has heard Georges’s song, and that Georges had given him the
jazz. See, for example, violin as a souvenir, saying that ‘la musique et la mort nous unissent plus
Ménil’s ‘Situation de solidement que les paroles de la vie’ (p. 55). Music is thus confirmed as a
la poésie aux Antilles’,
Tropiques, 11, May primary bonding force between Caribbean blacks, more so than language,
1944, pp. 127–33. which in this context is inevitably connected to loss and alienation, and
21. Nesbitt, Voicing subject to control and compromise.
Silence, p. 148. Music is also the one true inheritance, passed on to and modified with
22. ibid., p. 150. each generation: the character Carole is a repository of old Creole songs,
and plays the banjo and the saxophone at balls, while her sons Ignace and
Louis – named after their famous rebel predecessors Joseph Ignace and
Louis Delgrès – spend all of their leisure time playing music with their
orchestra, Ignace on drums, and Louis playing the violin in a way that
recalls Georges’s earlier fusions of melody and rhythm. Later, too, Louis–
Gabriel, named by his mother Louise in honour of Georges (in their shared
initial G), himself becomes a musician, in circumstances that invoke des-
tiny and fate. His mother, father and twin brother Jean–Louis (named in
honour of Jonathan) are killed in the hurricane of 1928, which devastated
the whole of the island. In the novel hurricanes have their own rhythm,
returning regularly, and approaching the island slowly, inevitably ‘au
rythme du chapelet des vieilles’ (p. 94). The 1928 disaster leads to the
modernization and ‘civilization’ of the island, through the construction of
new concrete and stone buildings. Louis–Gabriel escapes the hurricane by
playing truant from school to listen to the practice sessions of a Haitian
orchestra, which took place by chance in the cellars of the Royal Hotel, an
effective shelter from the ravages of the hurricane. None of the musicians
or their young admirers were killed in the hurricane, and Louis–Gabriel,
the orphan ‘s’étant joué en musique du destin’ became a musician, a
‘grand spécialiste de l’improvisation’ (p. 81). Again, music survives disas-
ter and adapts to new circumstances, in this case Louis–Gabriel emerges
quite literally from the rubble of the past as a great master of the modern
mode of improvisational jazz.
Of all the diasporic musical modes evoked in L’Isolé soleil, it is jazz –
principally bebop, its precursors and the free jazz of the 1960s and 1970s –
that is most tellingly represented and incorporated textually as a dynamic
means of refiguring and transcending history and culture; as Nesbitt says,
‘Jazz is thoroughly linked to L’Isolé soleil’s production of meaning, a driving
force in its historiographic machine that formulates and generates con-
structions and critiques in ever-new combinations of once-buried memo-
ries.’20 The creative incorporation of North American jazz into the
thematic and narrative texture of the Caribbean novel is essentially moti-
vated and enabled by the two modes’ shared interest in addressing the
‘dilemmas of historical representation’.21 Beyond this fundamental shared
objective, however, jazz and (Caribbean) literature are apparently, as
Nesbitt says, ‘two highly dissimilar signifying practices’,22 the former
being more closely associated with oral, vernacular culture, while the
400 Martin Munro

written word, particularly in the French Caribbean, is often synonymous 23. Herbeck challenges
with the discourse of the master, and carries implications for the black what he sees as
Nesbitt’s ‘deconstruc-
writer of self-betrayal.23 It is this basic antinomy between apparently nat- tionst approach’ and
ural, unmediated musical expression and highly codified and compro- accentuates the
mised literary creation that Maximin interrogates and seeks to transcend ‘productive’ qualities
of jazz, its ‘true
in L’Isolé soleil. He does this in two essential and complementary ways: by performance
presenting music as an elevated, highly sophisticated, and indeed codified potential’ as a
means of black expression; and conversely by writing in ways that evoke ‘compositional
methodology of
the black musical tropes of riffing, jazz improvisation and cultural syn- creation’. ‘Jusqu’aux
cretism. In formal terms, Maximin’s prose perhaps evokes most closely the limites de l’improvisa-
tropes of riffing and improvisation in Siméa’s narrative, which in its free- tion’, p. 165.
flowing, unpredictable form echoes and plays on experimental jazz style, 24. ibid., pp. 157–58.
especially Coleman Hawkins’ Body and Soul, which is evoked throughout her 25. Paul Gilroy, The Black
narrative as a model of contemporary black expression. Jazz, for Maximin, Atlantic: Modernity and
is more than mere musical practice; it is, as Nesbitt suggests Double Consciousness,
London: Verso, 1993,
p. 76.
a vehicle of communication that tells a more than musical story in an encoded
26. Bongie, Islands and
form, a story that is more than organized sound, one that instead contains Exiles, p. 400.
within its material existence encryptions of the social reality out of which it
arose.24
In this sense, Maximin prefigures Paul Gilroy’s project of ‘Taking the music
seriously’, and presents music in terms that echo Gilroy’s view of how it has
developed from the ‘grudging gift’ that supposedly compensated slaves for
their exclusion from modern political society into a refined form of expres-
sion, ‘an enhanced mode of communication beyond the petty power of
words – spoken or written’.25 This search for a transcendent form of com-
munication takes Maximin’s writing to a new and original plane; a space,
as Bongie says, ‘that is between the oral and the written, and that puts into
question the (inescapable) binary thinking that would cordon them off
from one another’.26 It is true more generally that music in L’Isolé soleil is
privileged as the most dynamic, searching and profound expression of black
Atlantic experience. In this regard, it is significant that Maximin, unlike his
predecessors Zobel and Glissant, or the later Créolité writers, does not evoke
storyteller figures as repositories of history, language and culture. Maximin
in a sense substitutes the storyteller with musicians who, much as in
Gilroy’s formulation, transcend the ‘petty power’ of words in their creative,
often improvised modes of communication.
In L’Isolé soleil Louis–Gabriel’s movement out of the rubble into the mod-
ern, essentially jazz mode is complemented by the broadening of the political
frame of reference to include extra-Caribbean influences. These influences
come principally from North America, and less from Africa, which, it is sug-
gested, fades in the memory over time, and loses its cultural and political rel-
evance to the Caribbean. As Adrien says, by the mid-twentieth century, the
peasants’ gros–ka drum had long ceased to stir up a memory of Africa, and
by then only stoked the imagination (p. 92). Just as the new music flows
between various points on the diasporic map, so political ideas travel and are
incorporated into island thinking. At one point, Adrien talks about hearing
the Black Power militant Stokely Carmichael – born in Trinidad yet most
closely associated with North American radicalism, thus himself something
of a free-flowing diasporic militant – speaking in London. Carmichael’s argu-

ment was that the only true revolutionaries he had ever encountered were
jazz musicians playing in a cellar. For his part, Adrien is less convinced about
the political function of music, which, he says, ‘ne joue jamais la révolution.’
In his view, revolution and music may ‘parfois danser ensemble. Comme
deux corps amoureux improvisant leurs gestes au diapason du rythme,
quand la révolution a un moment de liberté’ (p. 90). At the same time, how-
ever, Adrien affirms unequivocally the importance of black American
radicalism to his youthful dream of Antillean liberation. Recalling how he
and his fellow black male students, ‘powerless rebels’, would be forced to sit
at the back of their high school class, while white children sat at the
front, Adrien remembers their discussions of their future combat and
their certainty that:
Le salut du monde noir viendrait des Noirs de l’Amérique, tendus comme un

arc tout d’une pièce depuis Bahia jusqu’à Harlem, avec nos Antilles au centre,
sûrs de vaincre lucidement après trois siècles d’expérience de révolte. Nous
étions naturellement solidaires de nos cousins d’Alabama et Chicago, même
sans comprendre la dureté de leurs voix et la tristesse de leur blues comparées
à la chaleur de nos rythmes. Sans doute notre sentiment s’accompagnait–il
d’un peu d’envie de gratte–ciel, de Chevrolets et de westerns. (p. 92)
Adrien’s identification with North America is, therefore, a fairly complex

mix of racial solidarity and almost covetous fascination with classic images
of (white) American modernity and film culture. Interestingly, too, there is
an element of discord or misapprehension between diasporic musical forms,
between the rhythmic ‘warmth’ of Creole music and the more downbeat
melancholy of the blues. This imperfect synthesis of Caribbean and black
American music is also a preoccupation of the Guadeloupean jazzman
Louis–Gabriel who, after leaving the island for New York in the mid-forties,
spends his nights in Harlem clubs searching for the elusive synthesis
between the ‘rigueurs antimélodiques, la violence austère de la nouvelle
musique bop et le coulé généreux, la flamboyance sereine,’ of island musi-
cians (pp. 263–64).
Adrien’s youthful projection outward for sources of inspiration suggests
the classic French Caribbean sentiment of alienation and powerlessness:
where Césaire projects towards Africa, Maximin’s characters look to North
America (Glissant, of course, looks inward more insistently and exclusively).
Indeed, when Adrien moves to Paris, he feels himself less alienated than he
was in Guadeloupe (p. 96). This is because, he says, the island sun hid
from him the shadow of his double, an unknown part of him that had
grown up without, he says, ‘troubler ma solitude, jusqu’au moment du
déracinement.’ He becomes aware of this doubling of himself on the first
day of school in Paris, when he receives a kick, and is able to control his
reaction calmly, mastering his aggression, shame, indulgence and disdain
(p. 96). He relates this doubling to the need he feels to prove himself as a
black, and to in a sense represent his race in the colonial metropole. Thus
in addition to proving himself a good basketball player (which is expected
of him as a black teenager), he tries to show his brilliance in English (as
revenge against his racist former teacher), in French, through his love of
402 Martin Munro

poetry, and in history and geography so that he may open himself up to 27. Murdoch interprets
the world without prejudice. Spending his leisure time at the theatre, the Adrien’s doubling as a
means of protecting
cinema and the jazz club, Adrien says ‘j’édifiais tout mon être comme un himself against
fils du roi Christophe’, that is as an exemplar for the black race. All of this ‘white-engendered
constitutes for Adrien the ‘fardeau de la négritude’, an obligation that he alienation’, whereby
‘Adrien reverses and
fulfils willingly, as it made of him a ‘papillon multicolore’ (p. 97) who lives appropriates colonial
his blackness without it being defined by the dichotomies of race: he is not, patterns of power,
he says, a black man ‘par réaction’, or ‘de fraternisation imposée avec les inverting and translat-
ing this gesture into a
uns, d’hostilité distante avec les autres’ (p. 98).27 hybrid metaphor of
The metropole is thus a kind of stage upon which Adrien plays out the resistance, a resiting
dramas and tensions that are the legacies of centuries of colonial distortion and reinvestiture of
colonial paradigms of
of relationships between ‘blacks’ and ‘whites’ and the hypostatization of the division that simulta-
notions of blackness and whiteness. Music and rhythm are, of course, pri- neously animate the
mary elements in this unequal exchange of (mis)conceptions of the other. complex intersections
of the colonial experi-
The reception of ‘black music’ in Europe is often far from innocent or ence’. Creole Identity in
neutral, and tends to solidify distorted images of the other, as Adrien realizes the French Caribbean
when he visits a record shop in Paris and finds a second-hand album of live Novel, p. 118.
steelband music from Trinidad. The record sleeve contains a short text in
three languages, which is intended as an introduction to the music, culture
and character of the Caribbean:
Le calypso est la musique originale propre aux Antilles. Elle a su capter tout le
côté magique et féerique de ces îles. Et elle reflète admirablement le tempéra-
ment heureux et insouciant des insulaires de la mer Caraïbe. Il est réconfortant
de penser que les Antillais en Europe demeurent fidèles à la musique de leur
pays d’origine. Les harmonies remarquablement gaies d’un calypso reflètent le
caractère même de l’Antillais: heureux, insouciant, mais aussi très sensible.
Malgré les nombreux et constants obstacles qu’il rencontre, l’Antillais ne se
décourage pas: il n’en demeure pas moins courtois. (p. 99)
These sleeve notes effectively express the commonly held European concep-
tion of the Caribbean as a ‘magical’ place, peopled by smiling, insouciant
characters who are never anything less than polite and courteous. History
and ongoing hardship – ‘the numerous and constant obstacles’ – are men-
tioned only obliquely and remain conveniently unspecified and forgotten by
Europe and by the Caribbean people, who in any case are at all times
blithely deferential. At a time when Europe was losing its empires, such
images of the Caribbean seem to serve as reassuring myths that help erase
the inconvenient truths of island history. The easy-going rhythms of steel-
band calypso music similarly reinforce the image, and in this way lull the
senses, creating as the notes say, an ultimately ‘comforting’ misconception
of a musical form that in truth is firmly rooted in class and race struggle. In
its travels to Europe, therefore, this kind of music is translated into another
discourse that falsifies its original forms and functions. The fact too that
Adrien finds the record in the second-hand section of the record shop seems
to suggest that the idea is already worn, used, but is still passed around
invisibly and discreetly in the metropole.
Highly sensitive to this kind of stereotyping, and indeed compelled to
act out to some extent the image of the courteous black, Adrien writes his
own acerbic note to the white people of London and Paris, imploring them
28. Adrien’s prophecy has to have trust in their Caribbean bus conductors and hospital orderlies, and
been largely and spec- to preserve their elemental racism while feigning to appreciate ‘le rythme
tacularly confirmed in
the subsequent de leurs reggae, leurs biguines, leurs cadence–rampas et leurs calypsos’
history of black music (p. 100). Continuing in this caustic vein, Adrien asks that the whites limit
in England and their thresholds of tolerance, to be sensitive to the quality of blacks’ service
France. See, for exam-
ple, Gilroy, The Black and devotion, which are guaranteed by three centuries of practice, and to
Atlantic, p. 16, on disperse the blacks into little pockets among the vast greyness of the sub-
Soul II Soul’s transat- urbs. Striking a more openly defiant, even prophetic tone, Adrien asserts
lantic success.
that in this case it will not be so easy to effect the sweet and happy colo-
29. Gilroy, The Black nization of these ‘nouvelles îles des Antilles que tu as voulu créer toi–même
Atlantic, p. 76.
pour ton profit à Londres et à Paris’ (p. 100). It will therefore be more
30. Mark M. Smith, difficult to perpetuate the myth of the joyfully obliging black man when
‘Introduction: Onward
to Audible Pasts’, in these new islands (or indeed ghettoes) grow up in the heart, or even on
Mark M. Smith (ed.), the margins of the metropole. Implicitly, too, the music that will come out
Hearing History: A of the new islands will challenge the easy yet insincere appreciation of tra-
Reader, Athens and
London: The ditional, rhythmic Caribbean musical forms: Adrien’s prophecy implies the
University of Georgia development of more grating, confrontational rhythms that will better
Press, 2004, p. ix. reflect the new urban reality of displaced Caribbean communities.28
Maximin’s novel suggests more generally the importance of the audi-
tory aspects of the past, especially for black diasporic cultures, who as
Gilroy says have transformed music, ‘the grudging gift’ that was often
their only true means of retaining memory and of self-expression, into a
remarkably persistent and dynamic means of recording history and of
inventing cultural identity.29 As such, Maximin effectively prefigures the
current interest among historians for aural history, for ‘hearing history’
and sensing the past more deeply and broadly than traditional historiogra-
phy has allowed. Maximin’s interest in the aural aspects of history implic-
itly aligns him with ground-breaking historians such as Mark M. Smith,
who sees in this new historiography the hope of redirecting the ‘visually
oriented discipline of history’, a discipline which often places emphasis on
the search for ‘perspective’ and ‘focus’ through the ‘lens’ of evidence that
is heavily ‘indebted to the visualism of ‘Enlightenment’ thinking and ways
of understanding the world’.30 In his fiction, Maximin is similarly inter-
ested in de-emphasizing the visual, and in stopping to listen to history as it
has been communicated through diverse black diasporic musics. History
for Maximin has its own sounds that can be re-heard at privileged
moments, and its own rhythms that are at once part of the music and also
constant echoes of an ancestral past that for all its subsequent mutations
can still be momentarily heard, felt and sensed.
References
Bongie, Chris (1998), Islands and Exiles: The Creole Identities of Post/Colonial
Literature, Stanford: Stanford University Press.
Fanon, Frantz (1952), Peau noire, masques blancs, Paris: Seuil.
Gilroy, Paul (1993), The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double Consciousness, London:
Verso.
Glissant, Édouard (1964), Le Quatrième siècle, Paris: Gallimard.
—— (1989), Caribbean Discourse: Selected Essays (trans. J. Michael Dash),
Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia.
404 Martin Munro

Herbeck, Jason (2005), ‘“Jusqu’aux limites de l’improvisation”: Caribbean Identity

and Jazz in Daniel Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil’, Dalhousie French Studies, 71: (Summer),
pp. 161–75.
Maximin, Daniel (1981), L’Isolé Soleil, Paris: Éditions du Seuil.
—— (1986), ‘Entretien’, Les Nouvelles du sud, 3, Ivry-sur-Seine: Éditions Silex.
pp. 35–50.
—— (1987), Soufrières, Paris: Éditions du Seuil.
—— (1995), L’Ile et une nuit, Paris: Éditions du Seuil.
Ménil, René (1944), ‘Situation de la poésie aux Antilles’, Tropiques, 11: (May),
pp. 127–33.
—— (1981), Tracées: Identité, négritude, esthétique aux Antilles, Paris: Robert
Laffont.
Murdoch, H. Adlai (2001), Creole Identity in the French Caribbean Novel, Gainesville:
University Press of Florida.
Nesbitt, Nick (2003), Voicing Memory: History and Subjectivity in French Caribbean
Literature, Charlottesville and London: University of Virginia Press.
Ngal, Georges (1994), Aimé Césaire: Un homme à la recherche d’une patrie, Paris:
Présence Africaine.
Smith, Mark M. (2004), ‘Introduction: Onward to Audible Pasts’, in Mark M. Smith
(ed.), Hearing History: A Reader, Athens and London: The University of Georgia
Press, pp. ix–xxii.
Zimra, Clarisse (1989), ‘Introduction to Lone Sun’, Daniel Maximin, Lone Sun,
Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia.
Suggested citation
Munro, M. (2007), ‘Listening to Caribbean history: music and rhythm in Daniel
Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil’, International Journal of Francophone Studies 10: 3,
pp. 393–405, doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.393/1
Contributor details
Martin Munro is Senior Lecturer in French and Francophone Literatures at the
University of the West Indies, St Augustine, Trinidad and Tobago. His research
interests are in Francophone Caribbean literature, and especially Haitian litera-
ture. He is the author of Shaping and Reshaping the Caribbean: The Work of Aimé
Césaire and René Depestre (2000), and of Exile and Post–1946 Haitian Literature:
Alexis, Depestre, Ollivier, Danticat, Laferrière (2007), and co-editor of Reinterpreting
the Haitian Revolution and its Cultural Aftershocks (2006). He is currently working on
rhythm in Caribbean cultural history. Contact: Department of Liberal Arts,
University of the West Indies, St Augustine, Trinidad and Tobago, West Indies.
E-mail: mmunro@fhe.uwi.tt
IJFS_10.3_08_art_Golay.qxd 11/6/07 4:46 PM Page 407

Article. French Language. doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.407/1
Féminisme et postcolonialisme:
Beauvoir, Fanon et la guerre d’Algérie
Annabelle Golay Tulane University
Abstract Keywords
Fanon, Beauvoir: two writers, two theorists, who embodied the battles that they autobiographie
fought – decolonization and feminism. Although distinct, these two struggles are décolonisation
linked. They share a ‘situatedness’: the absolute otherness of women in relation to féminisme
men and of the colonized in relation to the colonizer. They share a project: to change guerre d’Algérie
the future through the liberation of revolution. In fact, Beauvoir and Fanon met: lutte de libération
their struggles and the story of their meeting in 1961 are recounted in Beauvoir’s morale
La Force des choses, which links French feminism to the project for decolonization. postcolonialisme
The international visibility of The Second Sex overshadowed Beauvoir’s other polit- situation
ical projects, notably, her significant role during the Algerian war of independence.
The crucial place Fanon accorded to women in his theory of decolonization has been
overlooked. In a re-reading of texts by Beauvoir and Fanon, this article explores
how these struggles are interconnected at the moment of the Algerian war, and
how, in the contemporary postcolonial context, Beauvoir and Fanon can both be read
as postcolonial authors.
Résumé
Fanon. Beauvoir. Deux écrivains, deux théoriciens, qui ont incarné les luttes
qu’ils ont portées: la lutte pour la décolonisation et le féminisme. Originellement
séparées, comment ces luttes pourraient-elles se rejoindre? A travers une commu-
nauté de situation: l’altérité absolue de la femme par rapport à l’homme et du
colonisé par rapport au colon. A travers des enjeux communs: forger un avenir
nouveau par une révolution libératrice. La rencontre Beauvoir-Fanon a-t-elle eu
lieu? Le récit de leur rencontre en 1961, dans la Force des choses, est mise en
présence littéraire des luttes de Beauvoir et de Fanon, et permet d’établir le lien
qui unit le féminisme français et les revendications de la décolonisation. Le reten-
tissement universel du Deuxième sexe a laissé dans l’ombre une partie de l’en-
gagement politique de Beauvoir, notamment, son rôle remarquable pendant la
guerre d’Algérie. Dans la théorie de la décolonisation de Fanon, la place essentielle
faite aux femmes, reste peu connue. A partir d’une relecture des textes de
Beauvoir et de Fanon, il s’agit de comprendre comment ces luttes s’interpénètrent
au moment de la guerre d’Algérie, et comment dans le contexte postcolonial
actuel, Beauvoir et Fanon peuvent être lus comme des auteurs postcoloniaux.
Théoricien majeur de la décolonisation, passionné défenseur de la cause

algérienne, Frantz Fanon rencontra au cours de l’été 1961, peu avant sa
mort, Simone de Beauvoir, dont l’entière solidarité avec les Algériens et le

1. Simone de Beauvoir, rôle, pourtant remarquable, pendant la guerre d’Algérie est moins connu.
La Force des choses, Le récit de leur rencontre dans la Force des choses (1963),1 permet de
Paris: Gallimard,
1963. penser les enjeux communs aux nations et aux individus opprimés,
femmes et colonisés, et d’établir le lien qui unit le féminisme français et les
2. ‘Feminism and
Post-colonialism’, in revendications de la décolonisation. L’altérité de la femme par rapport à
Bill Ashcroft et al. l’homme est comparable à celle du colonisé par rapport au colon. Beauvoir
(eds), The Post-colonial met en lumière ce parallèle dès les premières pages du Deuxième sexe
Studies Reader,
London/New York: (1949). L’essai doit être relu, à cet égard, à partir de sa situation d’écriture
Routledge, 2002 et du contexte colonial. Depuis, ce parallélisme est devenu l’un des objets
(first published des Postcolonial Studies:
1995), p. 249. Voir
également ‘Feminism
and post-colonialism’, In many different societies, women like colonised subjects, have been rele-
in Bill Ashcroft et al. gated to the position of ‘Other’, ‘colonised’ by various forms of patriarchal
(eds), The Empires
Writes Back, London/ domination. They thus share with colonised races and cultures an intimate
New York: Routledge, experience of the politics of oppression and repression. It is not surprising
2002 (first published therefore that the history and concerns of feminist theory have paralleled
1989), pp. 172–75.
developments in post-colonial theory.2
3. Frantz Fanon, L’An V
de la Révolution
algérienne, Paris: Fanon, dans un article paru dans Résistance Algérienne en 1957, intitulé
Editions de la ‘Les femmes dans la Révolution’, indique la conscience que les respons-
Découverte et Syros, ables du F.L.N. ont toujours eue du rôle important de la femme dans la
2001 (première
édition Maspero libération nationale. Ainsi le même problème s’est posé aux femmes et
1959); Les Damnés de aux individus colonisés, héritant les uns et les autres d’un lourd passé de
la terre, Paris: domination: il s’agit pour eux de forger un avenir nouveau par une révo-
Editions la
Découverte, 2002 lution libératrice. Même combat pour prendre place dans le monde,
(première édition mêmes chemins vers la liberté. Investi(e)s, dominé(e)s par des existences
Maspero 1961). étrangères, élevé(e)s dans le respect de la supériorité de l’homme ou du
colon, les femmes et les peuples colonisés partagent l’expérience à la fois
intime et collective de l’oppression, et ont en commun d’avoir été privés
de leur humanité. Il leur faut la reconquérir en se révoltant contre le
donné subi. Assumer et comprendre leur condition. Ne pas répudier en
eux ce qu’il y a de ‘différent’ mais au contraire l’affirmer. Trouver des
voies où exprimer leur vision singulière. Deux possibilités: la littérature et
la violence.
Dans ses œuvres littéraires, véritables manifestes, L’An V de la Révolution
algérienne (1959) et Les Damnés de la terre (1961),3 Fanon soutient la thèse
de la nécessité et de la valeur de la violence, puisque c’est en elle que
l’opprimé puise son humanité. C’est en effet dans un contexte de violence
et de ‘contre-violence’ extrême, que l’Algérie obtient son indépendance au
terme de huit années d’atrocités françaises. Exécutions, tortures, mutila-
tions, attentats. En mai 1960, Beauvoir défend le cas d’une jeune femme
Algérienne torturée, Djamila Boupacha, dans un article du Monde qui fait
scandale (Le Monde est saisi à Alger), écrit une préface au livre que lui con-
sacre son avocate Gisèle Halimi, et choisit de le co-signer en 1962 pour en
partager avec elle la responsabilité. En mettant sa notoriété au service de
la cause algérienne (‘manifeste des 121’, délégations, conférences, mani-
festations, témoignages) et n’hésitant pas à prendre tous les risques (men-
aces d’emprisonnement, d’attentat, de plasticage), Beauvoir manifeste son
soutien absolu au peuple algérien. Son engagement politique se double
d’un engagement dans l’écriture: l’honnêteté intellectuelle et la lucidité de
408 Annabelle Golay

La Force des choses, troisième volet de ses Mémoires, érigent ce texte en 4. Julien Murphy,
témoignage capital sur la guerre d’Algérie, où s’exprime dans la contin- ‘Beauvoir and the
Algerian War: Toward
gence quotidienne, la souffrance déchirante et partagée des Algériens. a Postcolonial Ethics’,
Des liens très forts se nouent entre un premier féminisme français, poli- in Margaret A.
tique, engagé, représenté par Simone de Beauvoir, et les revendications Simons (ed.), Feminist
Interpretations of
pour la décolonisation portées par Fanon. Dans la continuité des essais cri- Simone de Beauvoir,
tiques postcoloniaux (notamment ceux des auteurs de The Empire Writes University Park:
Back, de Françoise Lionnet, d’Elleke Boehmer ou de Gayatri Spivak), qui se Pennsylvania Sate
University Press,
sont non seulement attachés à étudier les évolutions parallèles du fémin- 1995, pp. 263–97.
isme et du postcolonialisme, mais ont aussi tenté d’en penser la rencontre,
il s’agit dans cette étude de montrer à travers des textes de Fanon et de
Beauvoir, comment au moment de l’émergence de la lutte pour la décoloni-
sation et de la lutte féministe, ces combats se sont interpénétrés l’un
l’autre. Il s’agira d’autre part de déterminer si la rencontre Beauvoir-
Fanon a véritablement eu lieu, et si oui, en quels termes? S’ils se sont effec-
tivement retrouvés en présence l’un de l’autre à Rome en 1961, il reste à
mettre au jour les points de convergence ou d’intersection entre leurs
luttes concrètes, que ce soit en acte ou en écriture, mais essayer également
d’en esquisser de possibles limites. Peut-on déceler une hiérarchie entre les
luttes ou entre les ‘différences’, comme le postule l’analyse de Gwen
Bergner de Peau noire, masques blancs: ‘race over gender’ (‘The Role of
Gender in Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks’, 1995, p. 84)? S’il est admis que
Fanon est un des auteurs fondateurs du postcolonial, peut-on envisager
une approche féministe de son œuvre à partir de ‘L’Algérie se dévoile’,
dans la mesure où ce texte constitue l’un des rares, parmi les premiers
essais sur la décolonisation, à traiter la question de la situation et de la
libération des femmes? Réciproquement et inversement, le retentissement
universel du Deuxième sexe n’a-t-il pas laissé dans l’ombre la possibilité
d’une lecture postcoloniale de l’œuvre de Beauvoir (Julien Murphy, en
1995, a été le premier à mettre en lumière dans un excellent article l’en-
gagement politique personnel de Simone de Beauvoir au moment de la
guerre d’Algérie4)? Il faut donc se poser la question: Beauvoir et Fanon
sont-ils des auteurs féministes et postcoloniaux?
Féminisme de Fanon?
Dans L’An V de la Révolution algérienne, l’un des premiers livres édités par
François Maspero, Fanon consacre le chapitre d’ouverture à une réflexion
sur le rôle des femmes dans la révolution algérienne. Il avait déjà briève-
ment abordé ce thème dans un article de 1957; il le reprend deux ans plus
tard, pour le développer sous le titre: ‘L’Algérie se dévoile’. Toute la réflex-
ion de Fanon est centrée sur le signe emblématique qu’est le voile, le haïk,
dans l’aire culturelle du Maghreb arabe; il s’agit pour lui de montrer com-
ment cet élément vestimentaire, ‘traditionnel’ et ‘stabilisé’, est devenu un
enjeu majeur dans la guerre d’indépendance (p. 29). Anne McClintock a
toutefois souligné avec justesse dans son essai ‘No Longer in a Future
Heaven’, que l’insistance de Fanon à affirmer ‘l’inertie du voile est discutable
(puisqu’elle reviendrait à dénier toute signification au voile dans les
relations entre sexes), et témoigne surtout d’un rejet de la conception
européenne du voile comme signe de soumission de la femme dans la
société algérienne:
Féminisme et postcolonialisme: Beauvoir, Fanon et la guerre d’Algérie 409

5. Anne McClintock, So eager is Fanon to deny the colonial rescue fantasy that he refuses to grant
‘No Longer in a the veil any prior role in the gender dynamics of Algerian society. Having
Future Heaven:
Gender, Race, and refused the colonial’s desire to invest the veil with an essentialist meaning
Nationalism’, in (the sign of women’s servitude), he bends over backward to insist on the
Anne McClintock, veil’s semiotic innocence in Algerian society.5
Aamir Mufti and
Ellena Shohat (eds),
Dangerous Liaisons: Premier mouvement: ‘le culte du voile’. Pendant la période de colonisation, le
Gender, Nation, and voile symbolise, pour les forces occupantes, la situation de la femme algéri-
Postcolonial Perspective,
Minneapolis: enne, perçue comme ‘humiliée, mise à l’écart, cloîtrée’ (p. 19). A propos du
University of voile, naît une doctrine politique coloniale, qui prend pour thème d’action les
Minnesota Press, femmes: en les pressant de se dévoiler pour se libérer d’une sujétion sécu-
1997, p. 97.
laire, la stratégie des colonialistes vise à les ‘convertir’, à les gagner à leurs
6. Diana Fuss, ‘Interior valeurs, à en faire leurs ‘complices’, pour déstructurer de l’intérieur la
Colonies: Frantz
Fanon and the Politics société algérienne (p. 20). La réponse du colonisé à cette agression est de
of Identification’, in contre-assimilation et de contre-violence: ‘A l’offensive colonialiste autour du
Diacritics 24: 2–3 voile, le colonisé oppose le culte du voile’ (p. 29). Le voile devient ‘mécanisme
(Summer-Fall 1994),
pp. 20–42. John de résistance’: on se voile parce que l’occupant ‘veut dévoiler l’Algérie’ (p. 47).
Mowitt, ‘Algerina Dans les discours antagonistes de l’impérialisme colonial et de la résis-
Nation: Fanon’s tance nationale, le voile constitue paradoxalement dans les des deux cas,
Fetish’, Cultural
Critique 22 (Fall une représentation métonymique de la nation algérienne, comme l’ont
1992), pp. 165–86. décrit Diana Fuss dans ‘Interior Colonies’ et John Mowitt dans ‘Algerian
7. Diana Fuss, op. cit., Nation’,6 un symbole à abattre ou à maintenir. Le corps de la femme
p. 26. devient, dans cette perspective, un champ de bataille idéologique, un ‘fétiche’,
8. ‘The problem with
un signe ostentatoire de l’identité algérienne en l’absence de nation (au
(national) allegories voile sont aussi attribuées des propriétés de fétiche sexuel, de signifiant
is that they erase the érotique, pour l’occupant7). Il faut noter un autre paradoxe propre à
term on which they
ground themselves.
Fanon: tandis que le titre du chapitre ‘L’Algérie se dévoile’ assimile la
As Winifred Woodhull femme à la nation algérienne à travers la synecdoque du voile (ce qui
and Anne McClintock reviendrait à nier la possibilité d’action des femmes en les objectivant
have shown, even
Frantz Fanon, one of
comme enjeu du conflit), la femme et/ou la nation algérienne sont ici l’agent
the very few (if not actif du verbe, contrairement à la passivité induite dans la traduction en
the only) early decol- langue anglaise du titre: ‘Algeria unveiled’ (voir l’introduction du livre
onization theorists of
decolonization to
d’Anne Donadey, Recasting Postcolonialism, 2001).8
have attempted to Second mouvement: ‘L’Algérie se dévoile’. A l’occasion de la révolution
address the issue of algérienne, une mutation intervient à propos du haïk. La crise du voile
gender in his work,
was not entirely able
ayant placé les femmes au centre des enjeux, les révolutionnaires sont
to escape the allegory amenés à repenser leurs méthodes d’action. Une idée nouvelle germe, qui
of Woman as Nation. repose sur un retournement de la stratégie de l’occupant: en dégageant le
When women are
equated to the land,
corps de la femme du voile presque organique, qui l’enveloppe et le prend,
there is no discursive ‘la femme dévoilée algérienne évolue comme un poisson dans l’eau occi-
space for them as dentale’ (p. 41). Pour entrer véritablement dans l’action révolutionnaire et
citizens. When
woman stands in for
‘pénétrer’ dans la ville européenne, la femme algérienne, selon une ‘nou-
nation, it becomes velle dialectique du corps et du monde’, doit ‘réapprend[re] son corps, le
difficult to present réinstalle[r] de façon totalement révolutionnaire’ (p. 42). Insoupçonnable,
the women of the
nation as agents in
noyée dans le milieu, la ‘femme-arsenal’, selon Fanon, devient ‘porteuse
that nation’s de revolvers, de grenades, de centaines de fausses cartes d’identité ou de
constitution because bombes’ (pp. 41–42). Au cours de l’action révolutionnaire, les femmes
their body image is
being activated as the
deviennent un ‘maillon capital’ de la lutte de libération nationale.
object for which to Cette valorisation du rôle des femmes algériennes dans la révolution
fight.’ Anne Donadey, demeure toutefois ambiguë pour Anne McClintock, qui remarque que
410 Annabelle Golay

l’entrée des femmes dans l’action n’est pas présentée, dans le texte de ‘Introduction:
Fanon, comme le résultat de leur volonté propre, mais d’abord comme une Recasting
Postcolonialism’ in
nécessité liée à un déterminisme mécanique (‘Les rouages révolutionnaires Recasting
avaient pris une telle envergure, la machine marchait à un rythme donné. Postcolonialism:
Il fallait compliquer la machine’, p. 31), puis comme une action médi- Women Writing
Between Worlds,
atisée, une désignation par les dirigeants: Portsmouth:
Heimann, 2001,
Women’s agency for Fanon is thus agency by designation. It makes its p. xxx.
appearance not as a direct political relation to the revolution but as a medi- 9. Anne McClintock,
ated, domestic relation to man: “At the beginning, it was the married women op. cit., p. 98.
who were contacted. Later, widows or divorced women were designated”. [. . .]
As designated agents, moreover, women do not commit themselves: “It is
relatively easy to commit oneself . . . The matter is a little more difficult when
it involves designating someone”. Fanon does not consider the possibility of
women committing themselves to action.9
Il faut toutefois de nuancer cette assertion en précisant que le texte de Fanon

se poursuit en expliquant que bientôt ‘le volontariat de plus en plus nombreux
de jeunes filles, condui[t] les responsables politiques à faire un autre bond, à
bannir toute restriction, à prendre appui indifféremment sur l’ensemble des
femmes algériennes’ (p. 34). Les hommes restent certes décisionnaires mais
les pratiques sont modifiées sous l’impulsion des femmes algériennes.
D’autre part, A. McClintock met au jour un aspect déroutant dans les
descriptions de Fanon, où les femmes agissant au sein de la lutte, sont
métaphoriquement masculinisées:
Fanon resorts to a curiously eroticized image of militarized sexuality.

Carrying the men’s pistols, guns and grenades beneath her skirts, “the
Algerian woman penetrates a little further into the flesh of the Revolution”.
Here the Algerian woman is not a victim of a rape but a masculinized rapist.
As if to contain unmanning threat of armed women – in their dangerous
crossings – Fanon masculinized the female militant, turning her into a phallic
substitute, detached from the male body but remaining, still, the man’s “woman-
arsenal”. (p. 98)
Masculinisation ou instrumentalisation, la femme engagée dans la lutte

révolutionnaire n’est plus tout à fait une femme sous la plume de Fanon
(qui écrivait aussi au moment de la décision de faire entrer les femmes dans
l’action: ‘Il faut exiger de la femme une élévation morale et une force psy-
chologique exceptionnelle’, suggérant une infériorité morale originelle de la
femme par rapport à l’homme, p. 31). L’analyse d’Anne McClintock tend à
montrer que dans son texte Fanon essaie de donner l’image d’un peuple
algérien unanime, soudé dans la lutte (renforçant le manichéisme de la
lutte révolutionnaire ou anticoloniale en une opposition binaire entre eux et
nous – voir l’introduction d’Anne Donadey, Recasting Postcolonialism). Cet
effort pour constituer le peuple algérien en lutte comme un tout unifié,
empêcherait Fanon d’affronter la question de possibles luttes internes entre
sexes, voire de la nier (cf. l’inertie prétendue du voile). Toutefois, le texte
manifeste à plusieurs reprises une volonté de souligner le fait que la révo-
lution nationale crée et créera l’égalité entre sexes.

10. Anne McClintock, Troisième mouvement: reprise du voile. A partir de 1957, les militaires
op. cit., p. 99. français apprennent – certaines militantes ayant parlé sous la torture –
11. Voir Le Souci des autres: que des femmes d’apparence très européanisées tiennent un rôle fonda-
éthique et politique du mental dans la lutte. Pour les révolutionnaires, il s’agit alors de réinventer
care, sous la direction
de Patricia Paperman, une nouvelle technique de dissimulation: le voile est repris, et le corps de
Paris: Editions de l’Algérienne, qui s’était libéré et élancé, est désormais écrasé. Il faut le ren-
l’école des hautes dre difforme, ‘à l’extrême le rendre absurde’ (p. 45). Pour écarter toute
études en sciences
sociales, 2006. suspicion, il faut, écrit Fanon, ‘se faire une telle “tête de Fatma” que le sol-
dat soit rassuré’ (p. 45). Si le voile reparaît, il est ‘définitivement dépouillé
de sa dimension exclusivement traditionnelle’ pour être ‘instrumentalisé,
transformé en technique de camouflage, en moyen de lutte’ (p. 44).
Il existe donc, selon les termes de Fanon, ‘un dynamisme historique du
voile’. Dans ce chapitre, significativement placé en tête de L’An V de la révo-
lution algérienne, Fanon n’a de cesse de souligner son admiration pour l’ac-
tion féminine dans la lutte pour l’indépendance (‘maîtrise de soi et succès
incroyables’, ‘dimensions véritablement gigantesques’), et de montrer
comment à travers la lutte, les femmes algériennes conquièrent une lib-
erté, qui ne soit pas le fait ‘de l’invitation’ de la France ou du général de
Gaulle (p. 46), mais la leur propre, gagnée grâce à leur engagement total
dans l’action révolutionnaire. Le 13 mai 1958, l’investiture de Pierre
Pflimlin, favorable à l’ouverture de négociations avec le F.L.N., suscite à
Alger des manifestations des partisans du maintien de la souveraineté de
la France sur l’Algérie: le colonialisme français réédite alors sa ‘campagne
d’occidentalisation de la femme algérienne’, et décide de dévoiler ‘symbol-
iquement’ et publiquement des femmes. Opposant au colonialisme français
et à ses valeurs, leur autonomie de choix, des Algériennes depuis longtemps
dévoilées, reprennent, ‘spontanément et sans mot d’ordre’, le haïk (p. 46).
L’analyse d’Anne McClintock vient nuancer ce propos de Fanon sur
l’autonomie de choix et d’action des femmes, en pointant le fait que dans
‘L’Algérie se dévoile’, les femmes ne semblent pouvoir agir et se libérer que
par le seul moyen de l’engagement national:
Women’s liberation is credited entirely to national liberation, and it is only

with nationalism that women “enter into history”. Prior to nationalism,
women have no history, no resistance, no independent agency. And since the
national revolution automatically revolutionizes the family, gender conflict
naturally vanishes after the revolution.10
Fanon cherche cependant à montrer en suivant dans son analyse la

chronologie des événements, comment l’évolution du rôle des femmes au
cours de la révolution doit aboutir à leur libération. Avant la décision, en
1955, d’incorporer pleinement les femmes dans la lutte, leur rôle était
essentiellement celui du soin prodigué aux combattants (les sociologies du
‘care’ ont montré que le soin est généralement conçu comme une ‘affaire
de femmes’11). Puis, à partir de 1956, c’est par et dans le corps des femmes,
que se réalise la révolution: pour répondre aux nouvelles tâches qui leur
sont confiées, les femmes doivent, par une ‘authentique naissance’, ‘sans
apprentissage, sans récits, sans histoire’ (p. 33), inventer de nouvelles
manières d’être dans le monde. Sans se faire remarquer, il leur faut
s’élancer dans la rue avec un corps altéré (puisque dénué du voile qui
412 Annabelle Golay

participait normalement de leur schéma corporel) et avec au bout de la 12. Une certaine sévérité
main un sac de grenades ou l’argent de la révolution: ‘Il y a [. . .] une de Fanon à l’égard de
la femme avait déjà
absence de jour entre la femme et la révolutionnaire. La femme algérienne été relevée par Gwen
s’élève d’emblée au niveau de la tragédie’ (p. 33). Bergner, qui notait
Ce passage du texte de Fanon a suscité des nombreux commentaires dans son étude de
Peau noire, masques
(notamment de la part d’Elleke Boehmer et d’Anne McClintock), qui inter- blancs, que Fanon
prètent cette idée d’un apprentissage révolutionnaire instinctif et spon- jugeait beaucoup
tané, comme un stéréotype de Fanon sur la femme, qui serait un être plus durement la
soumission du
fondamentalement non historique, et marqué par la fonction reproduc- personnage du récit
trice (image de la naissance naturelle et authentique).12 Toutefois, lorsque autobiographique de
l’on sait l’influence de la philosophie de Sartre sur Fanon, une autre lec- Mayotte Capécia à
l’idéologie raciste et à
ture devient possible, à partir de la notion d’authenticité qui, au sens la volonté de se
sartrien, est le contraire de la mauvaise foi, du rôle joué, de l’imitation blanchir que le
(le travail de Diana Fuss, dans ‘Interior Colonies’, vise en partie à montrer personnage du texte
de Veneuse. Gwen
comment la ‘transformation’ de la femme algérienne en Européenne Bergner, ‘The Politics
relève d’une contre-stratégie politique de résistance à une identification of Admittance: Female
imposée).13 Sexual Agency,
Miscegenation and
Les chemins de la liberté des femmes algériennes sont sinueux et appel- the Formation of
lent parfois des décisions ambiguës, que Fanon a l’honnêteté de remarquer: Community in Frantz
la reprise du voile en 1958 est une réaction immédiate, qui s’inscrit dans Fanon’, The UTS
Review: Cultural
‘l’attitude globale de refus des valeurs de l’occupant, même si objectivement Studies and New
ces valeurs gagneraient à être choisies’ (p. 46). L’essentiel reste que dans Writing 1.1
son article paru dans Résistance Algérienne du 16 mai 1957, Fanon insistait (1995): 5–29.
déjà avec force sur le fait que ‘la guerre révolutionnaire n’est pas une 13. ‘Fanon’s insistence
guerre d’hommes’, mais bien ‘une guerre totale où la femme ne fait pas que that the Algerian
woman’s European
tricoter ou pleurer le soldat’ – mais où, pleinement engagée ‘au cœur du impersonation is “an
combat’, elle est une ‘sœur’, qui réalise l’égalité entre les sexes: authentic birth in a
pure state” presumes
not that femininity
La place de la femme dans la société algérienne est indiquée avec une is itself a cultural
telle véhémence que l’on s’explique facilement le désarroi de l’occupant. production of the
C’est que la société algérienne se révèle n’être pas cette société sans femme masquerade but that
masquerade is a
que l’on avait si bien décrite. Côte à côte avec nous, nos sœurs bousculent natural function of
un peu plus le dispositif ennemi et liquident définitivement les vieilles femininity. It assumes
mystifications.14 that if the Algerian
woman in her
performances as
Les textes de Fanon soulignent une continuité entre les luttes de libération, “European” expertly
en les hiérarchisant toutefois. Avec la révolution nationale, s’opèrent des dissimulates, she does
so naturally, without
changements structurels de la société algérienne, venant de l’engagement “that coefficient of
total des femmes dans la lutte, physiquement et idéologiquement, qui play, of imitation”
selon Fanon, découvre au mari ou au père de ‘nouvelles perspectives sur that characterizes
Western women. [. . .]
les rapports entre sexes. Le militant découvre la militante’, écrit-il en note, “Algeria unveiled”
‘et conjointement ils créent de nouvelles dimensions à la société algéri- dramatizes a form of
enne’ (p. 43). La lutte, engageant hommes et femmes pour l’indépendance, mimesis that takes
masquerade as its
conduira donc selon Fanon à une réévaluation et à une redistribution des object; the political
rôles sexuels dans la société en mutation.15 strategy described is
Considérant l’évolution de la situation en Algérie en 1972, Simone de more like that of
miming masquerade.
Beauvoir écrit dans Tout compte fait: ‘Fanon s’est bien trompé quand il [. . .] Fanon’s strategy
prédisait que grâce au rôle qu’elles ont joué pendant la guerre les femmes is to reconstruct the
algériennes échapperaient à l’oppression masculine. La politique extérieure possibility of agency
that colonialism
de l’Algérie se veut “progressiste”: elle est anticolonialiste et anti-impérialiste.

vitiates, and he does Mais à l’intérieur elle est nationaliste et réactionnaire. Rien n’indique
this by locating qu’elle doive avant bien longtemps changer de caractère’ (p. 562). Les
“politics” in the
space where débats récents en France sur la laïcité rappellent encore la vivacité et la
imitation exceeds permanence des enjeux autour du voile.
identification’. Au moment où éclate le conflit pour l’indépendance, de nouvelles atti-
Diana Fuss, op. cit.,
p. 28–29. tudes, de nouvelles conduites, apparaissent chez celles et ceux qui soutien-
nent le peuple algérien. Par entière solidarité avec leur lutte, des Européens
de la Révolution d’Algérie décident d’y prendre une part active: des Européennes se joignent
algérienne, op. cit., aux porteuses de valises algériennes. La découverte de leur participation
p. 50. par les autorités françaises au moment des arrestations fut, selon Fanon,
15. Elleke Boehmer dans ‘l’une des dates de la Révolution Algérienne’ (‘L’Algérie se dévoile’, p. 44).
un paragraphe Parmi ces femmes, une institutrice française, Jacqueline Guerroudj, mariée
consacré à Fanon
dans l’introduction à un instituteur musulman et membre avec lui de l’A.L.N., fut condamnée
de son récent à mort pour avoir remis une bombe à un révolutionnaire algérien. Un
ouvrage, Stories of témoignage de moralité décisif, reçu en janvier 1958 de la part de Simone
Women, écrit: ‘[. . .]
woman to Fanon de Beauvoir, dont elle avait été l’élève à Rouen, lui permet d’obtenir une
becomes a subject of grâce. Ainsi, à travers l’adhésion commune à l’idéal national algérien, des
history only through réseaux de soutien se mettent en place de part et d’autre de la Méditerranée.
her part in the national
resistance. She is Au-delà des frontières politiques, ces engagements témoignent de l’appari-
uniquely politicised by tion d’une solidarité transnationale: ‘Les limites historiques s’effritent et
means of this disparaissent’ (p. 45).
involvement, and,
moreover, politicised in En France, devant l’impuissance de la gauche, des démocrates anti-
an “instinctive” way. colonialistes se lancent dans l’action clandestine de soutien au F.L.N. Des
[Fanon] writes, réseaux sont créés, dont celui de Francis Jeanson, philosophe sartrien,
“Algerian society . . .
renewed itself and collaborateur des Temps modernes, auteur de L’Algérie hors la loi. Ce fut
developed new values Jeanson qui accueillit Fanon chez lui à Paris quand il en eut besoin, et
governing sexual ce fut également grâce à lui, que le premier livre de Fanon, Peau noire,
relations”. Women did
not exercise a self- masques blancs, fut publié aux éditions du Seuil en 1952. Sartre
transforming agency in et Beauvoir se solidarisent rapidement avec l’engagement de Jeanson.
relation to these Lorsque les membres du ‘réseau Jeanson’, sont arrêtés et jugés pour
changes’. Elleke
Boehmer Stories of atteinte à la sûreté de l’Etat par le tribunal militaire de Paris, Sartre (alors
Women, Manchester: au Brésil avec Beauvoir) fait lire au procès en septembre 60 une déposi-
Manchester University tion retentissante, où il déclare se ranger aux côtés des porteurs de
Press, 2005, p. 9.
valises. Au moment du procès paraît le Manifeste des 121, qui prône le
16. Pour plus de détails droit à l’insoumission dans la guerre d’Algérie. Parmi les premiers sig-
sur la lettre de Sartre,
la condamnation à la nataires, Sartre et Beauvoir reçoivent en retour une haine passionnée de
fois officielle, publique l’opinion française, sont considérés comme des traîtres, et menacés d’em-
et de la presse, se prisonnement.16
reporter à La Force
des choses, op. cit.,
p. 571–74. Postcolonialisme de Beauvoir
17. Simone de Beauvoir,
Dès novembre 1954, la revue des Temps modernes ‘réclamai[t] l’indépen-
La Force des choses, dance pour le peuple algérien et estimai[t] qu’il s’incarnait dans le F.L.N.’17
op. cit., 1963, p. 340. Beauvoir était donc, dès le début du conflit, fermement opposée au main-
18. ibid., p. 387. tien violent de ‘l’Algérie française’. Devant la marche du monde en 54, elle
espérait une ‘imminente décolonisation de toute la planète’. Trois ans plus
tard, elle comprit que ‘le gouvernement allait s’entêter dans cette guerre.
L’Algérie obtiendrait son indépendance: mais dans longtemps’.18
Les pages du troisième volume de l’autobiographie beauvoirienne,
La Force des choses, donnent à lire, dans leur déroulement quotidien, le
drame de l’Algérie, à la fois intime et collectif, qui bouleverse l’existence de
414 Annabelle Golay

Beauvoir: ‘Ma propre situation dans mon pays, dans le monde, dans mes 19. Gayatri Spivak, ‘Can
rapports à moi-même s’en trouva bouleversée’ (p. 387). La seconde partie the Subaltern Speak?’
in Bill Ashcroft,
du texte, qui couvre les années 1952–63, est entièrement dominée par la Gareth Griffiths and
guerre d’Algérie, à laquelle sont consacrées près de quatre cents pages, à Helen Tiffin (eds), The
l’exception du récit de voyage au Brésil en 1960, où la situation algérienne Post-colonial Studies
Reader, London/New
(bien que lui parvenant par échos réfractés) demeure pour elle un souci York: Routledge, 2002
‘brûlant’ (p. 386). Il est frappant que, dans ces pages, le drame algérien (first published 1995),
soit vécu par Beauvoir sur un mode intime et personnel: ‘ça m’atteignait’, p. 24–28.
écrit-elle, puis: ‘j’ai vécu la guerre d’Algérie comme un drame personnel’ 20. ibid., p. 525.
(p. 389 et 681). L’écriture de soi et l’écriture de l’histoire se tissent ici en
un seul et même geste d’écriture: la Force des choses constitue autant un
document exceptionnel sur la guerre d’Algérie, qu’un témoignage du sou-
tien inconditionnel, en acte et en écriture, de Beauvoir au peuple algérien
et à sa cause. Si la Seconde Guerre mondiale lui avait découvert son his-
toricité, c’est véritablement au moment de la guerre d’Algérie que Beauvoir
s’engage politiquement, et réalise une certaine indépendance politique et
littéraire à l’égard de Sartre (voir Julien Murphy, p. 277).
De 1954 à 1960, Beauvoir met en question dans l’écriture autobi-
ographique son rôle en tant qu’intellectuelle, cherchant à s’engager d’une
manière qui lui soit propre: elle refuse le jeu de double qui consisterait à
faire la même chose que Sartre. A cet égard, il faut souligner qu’au
moment où Beauvoir s’engage pleinement et définitivement dans la lutte
anticoloniale en 1960, c’est par le truchement de son engagement fémin-
iste: en mai 60, l’avocate Gisèle Halimi sollicite son soutien pour alerter les
autorités et l’opinion publique sur le cas d’une jeune Algérienne, injuste-
ment accusée de terrorisme: Djamila Boupacha, fut pendant deux mois
emprisonnée par les parachutistes français, torturée et violée. Si la jeune
femme admit, dès son arrestation, qu’elle militait au côté des forces de
résistance algérienne, elle nia en revanche toute implication dans un
attentat à la bombe. De faux aveux lui furent arrachés sous la torture. A
la fois anticolonialiste et féministe, la lutte de Beauvoir en sa faveur répond
à la double colonisation à la fois impérialiste et patriarcale, dont Djamila
est victime, et qui la place, pour reprendre le concept de Gayatri Spivak, en
situation de ‘subalterne’.19
En visite dans sa prison de Barberousse à Alger, Gisèle Halimi encour-
age la jeune fille à déposer une plainte et à demander une enquête, qui
nécessite un ajournement du procès. Pour préparer sa défense devant le
tribunal algérien et tenter d’obtenir un transfert du dossier en France, il
est urgent d’obtenir un délai supplémentaire. Gisèle Halimi fait appel à
Beauvoir: se chargerait-elle de le réclamer? Beauvoir porte aussitôt un
papier au Monde. Le journal émet des réticences avant la publication, et
demande que des modifications soient apportées au texte – pour lequel
Beauvoir dit ‘s’être bornée ou presque à reproduire la relation de Djamila’.
La direction du Monde la prie de remplacer le mot ‘vagin’ (employé par
Djamila) par celui de ‘ventre’, et de substituer une périphrase à ‘Djamila
était vierge’.20 Beauvoir refuse. Ces mots sont imprimés entre parenthèses.
Le Monde du 2 juin est saisi à Alger pour son article.
La volonté de Beauvoir de reproduire le plus exactement possible la
relation de Djamila, luttant pour que ses termes propres soient imprimés
tels quels, est une manière de relayer une parole étouffée, de rompre le

21. Voir La Force des silence et le mutisme imposés par le système colonial, ou plus exactement,
choses, op. cit., par un système colonial concurremment sourd à la vérité et prêt à torturer
p. 641–42.
pour entendre de faux aveux. En considérant le souci éthique et le respect
22. ibid., p. 387. absolu de Beauvoir pour le témoignage de Djamila (il s’agit non pas de parler
pour, mais simplement de donner à entendre), on pourrait, à partir de la
question de G. Spivak, ‘Can the Subaltern Speak?’, s’interroger sur l’ambiguïté
de la parole relayée, certes non autonome, mais ayant pu être entendue.
Pour donner plus de poids à la lutte en faveur de Djamila, Beauvoir
suggère la rédaction d’un livre comportant une relation complète de l’af-
faire, qui constituerait à la fois un élément de lutte anticolonialiste dans
l’immédiat, pour faire éclater la vérité, en même temps qu’un témoignage
pour l’avenir. Gisèle Halimi se charge de l’écrire. Beauvoir le préface et le
co-signe pour en partager la responsabilité pénale avec elle. Au moment de
la parution, Beauvoir est directement menacée: la police refusant de la
protéger, ce sont des étudiants qui passent des nuits chez elle à veiller et à
guetter; son immeuble est épargné.21
Le livre Djamila Boupacha (1961) reproduit l’éditorial au Monde de
Beauvoir, dont un des points essentiels est la lumière faite sur ce que Beauvoir
dénonce comme ‘l’aspect le plus scandaleux de cette scandaleuse affaire –
le fait que les gens s’y étaient habitués’. Cette prise de conscience que la
démoralisation de la nation passe par l’habitude est traitée dans la Force
des choses, où Beauvoir écrit:
Aujourd’hui, en ce sinistre mois de décembre 1961, comme beaucoup de

mes semblables, je souffre d’une sorte de tétanos de l’imagination [. . .] C’est
peut-être ça le fond de la démoralisation pour une nation: on s’y habitue.
Mais en 1957, les os brisés, les brûlures au visage, au sexe, les ongles
arrachés, les empalements, les cris, les convulsions, ça m’atteignait.22
Le jeu des temporalités de l’écriture autobiographique (Beauvoir relisant et

retravaillant en 1961 un texte de 1957) révèle ici une tension entre les
enjeux propres à deux moments du conflit: en 1957, contre la conspira-
tion du silence, contre la presse devenue entreprise de falsification, il s’agis-
sait de faire connaître la vérité de la torture en Algérie; en 1961, c’est
contre le ‘tétanos de l’imagination’, contre l’habitude et la banalisation du
scandale perpétué, qu’il faut résister. Si elle ne fut pas la première, en
1960, à dénoncer l’insupportable vérité (avaient paru Sur la torture de
Pierre-Henri Simon, La Question d’Henri Alleg, et le recueil Les Rappelés
témoignent), Beauvoir s’investit entièrement pour libérer Djamila, et à tra-
vers elle, toutes les victimes du colonialisme: femmes et individus opprimés.
Pour amener les Français à assumer leur propre responsabilité dans une
guerre faite en leur nom (l’inertie est aussi une attitude politique), contre
la torture érigée en système, elle mobilise tout son pouvoir social et intel-
lectuel, pour lancer un appel public en faveur de la justice, de la liberté et
de l’action morale.
Beauvoir crée, par ailleurs, un comité de soutien pour Djamila, préside de
nombreuses conférences de presse, répond aux interviews, conduit la
délégation devant les autorités françaises pour obtenir le dessaisissement
des tribunaux militaires algériens, le transfert du procès en France afin
que la plainte de Djamila mène à des sanctions contre ses tortionnaires
416 Annabelle Golay

(la lutte continua jusqu’en 1962, où malgré le transfert obtenu, et l’iden- 23. ibid., p. 529.
tification des coupables, la plainte de Djamila ne put aboutir: ‘pour ne pas 24. ibid.
porter atteinte au moral de l’armée’; elle fut libérée suite aux accords
d’Evian). de la Révolution
Beauvoir fut si ‘frappée’, selon son propre terme, par le contenu de l’en- algérienne, op. cit.,
trevue avec les officiels, qu’elle décide d’en témoigner dans la Force des p. 26.
choses, bien que G. Halimi ait déjà pris en charge ce récit. Ce qui la 26. ibid., p. 24.
frappe si profondément, au cours des entretiens, c’est l’aveu paradoxal du 27. ibid., p. 28.
Ministre de la justice face à la pratique de la torture, dont il possède à la
fois une entière connaissance, mais qu’il est impuissant à contrôler. Même
mauvaise foi de la part de M. Patin, président de la Commission de
Sauvegarde, qui se refuse pendant la rencontre à toute empathie, instal-
lant une infranchissable distance entre soi et les autres. Pas de salut moral
par le dépassement vers autrui, pas de reconnaissance de la singularité de
Djamila (selon Fanon, les femmes algériennes sont toujours perçues par
l’Européen comme un ensemble homogène et indifférencié), dont il cherche
à minimiser l’humiliation subie (elle n’en est pas morte . . . ):
On en revint à Djamila. ‘Que vous a-t-elle dit, exactement, à propos de la

bouteille?’ demanda-t-il à Gisèle Halimi d’un air légèrement égrillard. Elle le
lui dit, il hocha la tête: ‘C’est ça, c’est ça ! ‘ Il sourit finement: ‘J’avais craint
qu’on ne l’eût assise sur une bouteille, comme on faisait en Indochine avec
les Viets.’ (Qui ça, on, sinon les chers officiers aux mains pures?) ‘Alors les
intestins sont perforés et on meurt. Mais ça ne s’est pas passé ainsi.23
Vous prétendez qu’elle était vierge. Mais enfin, on a des photos d’elle,
prises dans sa chambre: elle est entre deux soldats de l’A.L.N., armes en
mains, et elle tient une mitraillette.’ Et alors? elle a toujours proclamé qu’elle
militait dans l’A.L.N.; ça ne met pas en cause sa virginité avons-nous dit.
‘Tout de même, pour une jeune fille, c’est plutôt scabreux’, répondit-il.24
La réaction de M. Patin est révélatrice de l’attitude générale de l’homme,

du colon, du conquérant, face à la femme algérienne. Fanon écrit, à cet
égard, dans ‘L’Algérie se dévoile’, que ‘confusément, l’Européen vit à un
niveau fort complexe sa relation avec la femme algérienne’.25 En psychia-
tre, Fanon souligne l’existence, dans l’imaginaire colonial, du fantasme du
viol, du fantasme du voile ôté, de la conquête érotisée de la terre et de la
femme algériennes; étant à la fois conçue ‘comme support de la pénétra-
tion occidentale dans la société autochtone’,26 et comme ce qui sous le
voile résiste, faisant exister un monde dont il est exclu, voyant sans être
vue et le frustrant de la non réciprocité de son regard, la femme algéri-
enne, si elle apparaît dans un rêve du colonisateur à contenu érotique, fera
l’objet d’une ‘double défloration’: ‘le viol de la femme algérienne dans un
rêve d’Européen est toujours précédé de la déchirure du voile.’27 Loin de
n’être qu’un élément du matériel onirique du colonisateur, le viol est la
plus réelle violence faite aux corps des Algériennes, perpétuée, sue, tue,
par les militaires et les autorités françaises.
Au cœur même de l’écriture autobiographique de Beauvoir: la honte.
‘Je ne fus pas fière d’avoir à lui serrer la main’, écrit-elle du Ministre de la
justice. Par nécessité, par devoir peut-être, en tant qu’intellectuelle, en tant
que Française, elle avoue l’inavouable attitude des dirigeants. La honte se

28. ibid., p. 10. révèle être un sentiment fondamental, qui sous-tend son geste d’écriture.
29. ibid., p. 391. Dans le remarquable Livre des hontes (2006), Jean-Pierre Martin analyse
le lien profond entre l’écriture et la honte, dont elle peut être le premier
30. ibid., p. 406.
moteur: la honte, ‘émotion particulièrement inavouable’, à la fois la plus
31. Jean-Pierre Martin, historique et la plus singulière – ‘alcool fort de la littérature’. Dans l’auto-
Le Livre des hontes, op.
cit., p. 38. Citation de
biographie de Beauvoir, l’écriture de la honte devient, selon la formule de
J.-P. Martin de la J.-P. Martin, ‘face à face avec soi-même sous le regard de l’autre’,28 où
préface de Sartre aux Beauvoir s’astreint à s’examiner, adoptant le point de vue d’autrui, et
Damnés de la terre
de Fanon, Paris:
acceptant en ‘témoin inquiet de sa propre désubjectivation’, de se trans-
Maspero, 1961, former en objet de son regard et de son jugement: ‘J’avais besoin de mon
p. 14. estime pour vivre et je me voyais avec les yeux des femmes vingt fois vio-
lées, des hommes aux os brisés, des enfants fous: une Française.’29
S’écrivant comme l’autre en miroir, Beauvoir tend à assumer l’ambiguïté de
sa situation, qui fut de se voir elle-même à travers le regard des autres,
comme complice de cette guerre qui lui fait horreur, tout en s’éprouvant
en rupture par rapport à ces concitoyens, en dissidente par rapport à la
politique colonialiste de la France:
Je ne supportais plus cette hypocrisie, cette indifférence, ce pays, ma propre

peau. Ces gens dans les rues, consentants ou étourdis, c’étaient des bour-
reaux d’Arabes: tous coupables. Et moi aussi. ‘Je suis française.’ Ces mots
m’écorchaient la gorge comme l’aveu d’une tare. Pour des millions d’hommes
et de femmes, de vieillards et d’enfants, j’étais la sœur des tortionnaires,
des incendiaires, des ratisseurs, des égorgeurs, des affameurs; je méritais leur
haine puisque je pouvais dormir, écrire, profiter d’une promenade ou d’un
livre: les seuls moments où je n’avais pas honte, c’étaient ceux où je ne le
pouvais pas [. . .]30
La honte: moteur du dire, moteur de l’écriture autobiographique de

Beauvoir. Honte de soi, honte des autres, honte du colonialisme français,
honte d’être Française, honte de ses origines bourgeoises, de ses privilèges, de
sa complicité avec la guerre. Dire sa honte, écrire sa honte, constitue pour
Beauvoir le point de départ pour une morale solidaire et de la relation à
l’autre. ‘Car la honte se présente aussi, pour l’homme occidental, comme un
ferment de solidarité’, écrit J.-P. Martin, qui rappelle la préface de Sartre aux
Damnés de la terre: ‘Ayez le courage de lire Fanon: pour cette raison qu’il vous
fera honte et que la honte, comme disait Marx, est un sentiment révolution-
naire’.31 La capacité de Beauvoir de se mettre en question et à distance de
soi, lui permet de puiser dans la connaissance des conditions authentiques
de son existence, la force de vivre et des raisons d’agir: il lui faut assumer
l’ambiguïté fondamentale de sa condition, se défaire des lecta, rechercher un
sens vrai de la réalité, défendre la liberté de tous et de chacun.
D’un point de vue philosophique et moral, il apparaît que la période de
la guerre d’Algérie, où Beauvoir ressent plus vivement que jamais le para-
doxe de sa condition (être dans le monde à la fois sujet et objet), constitue
pour elle une mise à l’épreuve concrète de la morale existentialiste,
développée au lendemain de la Seconde Guerre mondiale dans son essai
philosophique Pour une morale de l’ambiguïté (1947). La liberté, ‘condition
première de toute justification de l’existence’, et le rapport indissoluble
entre soi et autrui, en constituent le fondement: ‘Se vouloir libre, c’est
418 Annabelle Golay

aussi vouloir les autres libres’ 32 (voir la section ‘An Ethics of Intersubjectivity,’ 32. Simone de Beauvoir,
J. Murphy, pp. 280–85). Pour une morale de
l’ambiguïté, Paris:
D’un point de vue littéraire, il semble qu’au moment du conflit algérien, Gallimard, 2003
Beauvoir ait trouvé dans l’écriture autobiographique une praxis où réaliser (première édition
sa propre liberté, un moyen de se révéler à elle-même, et de reprendre à son 1947), p. 103.
compte l’Histoire et l’histoire de sa vie: ‘Ma vie a été en même temps le pro- 33. Simone de Beauvoir,
duit et l’expression du monde dans lequel elle se déroulait et c’est pourquoi Tout compte fait, Paris:
Gallimard, 1972, pp.
j’ai pu, en la racontant, parler de tout autre chose que de moi’.33 La préférence 39–40.
assumée de Beauvoir pour la littérature autobiographique est un choix fort
34. Jacques Lecarme et
rare au regard des nombreux détracteurs du genre, qui objectent qu’il ne Eliane
constitue qu’une ‘littérature mineure’, un genre féminin: il serait ‘le degré Lecarme-Tabone,
le plus bas de la teneur littéraire, celui du reportage ou du témoignage sans L’Autobiographie,
Paris: Armand Colin,
apprêts’.34 Il faut toutefois mettre en lumière l’invention littéraire propre à 2004, p. 7.
Beauvoir, qui tient au fait que dans un même mouvement, l’écriture de soi
est aussi écriture des autres: le destin d’une nation et d’une intellectuelle y
est montré en un enlacement génial. Par ailleurs, le recours à l’autobiogra-
phie, conçue comme ‘corps écrit’ (Béatrice Didier), constitue le genre littéraire
privilégié pour exprimer la pensée corporelle de la honte en relation aux
souffrances infligées au peuple algérien dans sa chair. D’autre part, ce
choix générique, plutôt que celui de l’essai ou du roman, est particulière-
ment signifiant, puisqu’il permet à Beauvoir de s’adresser directement et
intimement à son lecteur, de le réunir avec le collectif, et de rétablir en lui ce
sens de la liaison à autrui, qui est à la fois le fondement de la morale et de la
liberté.
La lecture critique que Beauvoir donne de la manière dont elle a vécu
et s’est engagée pendant la guerre d’Algérie, indique dans l’autobiographie
même, des voies possibles pour une éthique postcoloniale. Le tour de force
de ce texte est d’avoir réalisé dans le moment de l’écriture, et avant que la
révolution pour la libération ne soit accomplie, une proposition pour une
conduite morale postcoloniale.
La rencontre Beauvoir-Fanon
Le texte de La Force des choses, qui vise son propre dépassement, ce texte
tendu, peut être reçu par le lecteur avec d’autant plus de force que
Beauvoir y livre son cheminement dans son ensemble avec un souci con-
stant de vérité, ne cherchant en rien à masquer ses propres contradictions,
mais s’efforçant au contraire de les saisir dans le geste même de l’écriture.
Beauvoir n’hésite pas pour décrire comment, en tant qu’intellectuelle, il lui
a été difficile dans un premier temps d’apprécier lucidement, par exemple,
l’action clandestine de soutien au F.L.N. du réseau Jeanson.
Lorsque Beauvoir et Fanon se rencontrèrent à Rome pendant l’été 1961,
ils se penchèrent de nouveau au cours de conversations qu’ils eurent, sur
les difficultés avec soi-même auxquelles l’intellectuel doit s’affronter pour
passer à l’action. Ces rencontres et ces conversations sont rapportées dans
la Force des choses, où Beauvoir souligne chez Fanon la vivacité du conflit
entre l’intellectuel et le révolutionnaire:
Partisan de la violence, elle lui faisait horreur; ses traits s’altéraient quand il
évoquait les mutilations infligées par les Belges aux Congolais, par les Portugais
aux Angolais – les lèvres percées et cadenassées, les visages aplatis à coup de

35. ibid., p. 622. palmatorio – mais aussi quand il parlait de ces ‘contre-violences’ des Noirs et
36. ibid., p. 620. des durs règlement de compte qu’avait impliqués la révolution algérienne. Il
attribuait ces répugnances à sa condition d’intellectuel: tout ce qu’il avait
écrit contre les intellectuels, il l’avait écrit contre lui-même.35
D’après Beauvoir, les origines de Fanon aggravaient ses conflits:
Dans sa jeunesse, il avait cru pouvoir surmonter, par sa culture et sa valeur,

la ségrégation raciale; il s’était voulu français: pendant la guerre, il avait
quitté la Martinique pour se battre. Faisant sa médecine à Lyon il avait com-
pris qu’aux yeux des Français un Noir restait toujours un Noir et il avait
agressivement assumé la couleur de sa peau.36
Mais quand Fanon fut nommé directeur de l’hôpital psychiatrique de Blida,

en Algérie, en 1953, c’était l’intégration dont il avait rêvé. En intro-
duisant dans ses services la ‘social-thérapie’, méthode de soin aux
aliénés, basée sur la restauration de leurs référents culturels, Fanon
gagne la reconnaissance du personnel soignant (pour la plupart engagé
politiquement) et celle des militants de la région. De plus, ses positions
anticolonialistes étant peu à peu connues, Fanon est bientôt contacté par
le mouvement ‘Amitiés algériennes’, qui lui demande de prendre en
charge des maquisards souffrant de troubles psychiques. C’est ainsi, par
la proximité entre psychiatrie et engagement politique, que Fanon s’engage
dans la lutte.
Pendant un an, Fanon continue à servir la révolution sans abandonner
son poste à l’hôpital: il dispense des leçons aux révolutionnaires, leur
apprend à contrôler leurs réactions au moment de déposer une bombe ou
de lancer une grenade, et à trouver quelle attitude psychologique ou
physique peut les aider à résister le mieux à la torture. Dans le même
temps, toutefois, il se doit de soigner des commissaires de police français
qui ont trop ‘questionné’. Si au cours de cette année-là, Fanon s’était déjà
senti écartelé, ne voulant pas renoncer à un statut difficilement acquis,
mais reconnaissant la cause des Algériens comme sienne, en 1956 la con-
tradiction lui devient insupportable: dans une lettre ouverte à Lacoste,
ministre-résident et gouverneur général de l’Algérie, il démissionne de son
poste, rompt avec la France et se déclare Algérien.
Ce choix de rupture totale – se choisir Algérien contre la France, con-
tre le colonialismese double dans l’écriture de Fanon d’une exigence de
remise en question intégrale de la situation coloniale. La résistance
extrême de son écriture oblige à s’interroger sur son statut littéraire: un
geste profondément militant dirigé contre I’idéologie colonialiste est à
l’origine même du geste d’écriture de l’An V de la Révolution algérienne et
des Damnés de la terre, œuvres révolutionnaires, de combat, nationales.
Dans cette mesure, on peut repenser l’œuvre de Fanon à la lumière du
concept de ‘stratégie ou de résistance postcoloniale’, que présente et
développe Jean-Marc Moura, dans un article de 2001, paru dans
Littérature postcoloniale et francophonie, et intitulé ‘Sur quelques apports et
apories de la théorie postcoloniale pour le domaine francophone’. Le con-
cept de stratégie ou de résistance postcoloniale renvoie, selon J.-M.
Moura:
420 Annabelle Golay

[…] aux œuvres qui tentent de résister à l’idéologie coloniale, y compris 37. Jean-Marc Moura,
durant la période de colonisation. […] A cet égard, Aimé Césaire ou Léopold ‘Sur quelques apports
et apories de la
Sédar Senghor sont des auteurs postcoloniaux au même titre qu’Edouard théorie postcoloniale
Glissant ou Henri Lopès. C’est une situation d’écriture qui est considérée et pour le domaine
non plus seulement une position sur l’axe du temps.37 francophone’, in
Littérature
postcoloniale et
Cette conception du ‘postcolonial’ comme non exclusivement chronologique francophonie, Paris:
(le post-colonial se constituant nécessairement après le colonial), permet Champion, 2001,
p. 151.
de le redéfinir en termes oppositionnels et critiques. Cette façon non
chronologique d’appréhender le postcolonial se retrouve également dans
l’ouvrage d’Anne Donadey, Recasting Postcolonialism. Il faut noter à cet égard
que la définition que propose Donadey du terme anticolonial, comme forte-
ment marqué par une opposition binaire, correspond bien au manichéisme
à l’œuvre dans les essais théoriques de Fanon (sur le manichéisme de Fanon,
voir Anne McClintock, ‘No longer in a Future Heaven’, pp. 93–99).
Par ailleurs, la dimension radicale et l’urgence à l’œuvre chez Fanon
sont à comprendre au regard de sa situation personnelle: il était atteint
d’une leucémie, qui le condamnait, lui laissant un très bref sursis. Fanon
est donc en lutte tant intimement que collectivement: lutte anticolonialiste
auprès du peuple algérien avec lequel il fait corps, lutte contre le dérègle-
ment physique de son propre corps. Au moment de sa rencontre avec
Beauvoir et Sartre, il savait qu’il n’avait plus qu’un an à vivre (il mourra
quelques mois plus tard, le 8 décembre 1961 dans une clinique près de
Washington, aux Etats-Unis). Certains de ses textes avaient déjà été pub-
liés par la revue des Temps modernes. Sartre et Beauvoir admiraient son tra-
vail dans Peau noire, masques blancs et dans L’An V de la révolution algérienne.
Il venait de rencontrer Claude Lanzmann à la conférence anticolonialiste
de Tunis où celui-ci représentait les Temps modernes, et lui demanda de
remettre à Sartre le manuscrit des Damnés de la terre, pour qu’il le préface.
Lanzmann et Fanon rejoignirent Beauvoir et Sartre à Rome (Fanon
souhaitait y soigner ses rhumatismes). Plusieurs jours de discussions inin-
terrompues s’en suivirent avant le retour de Fanon à Tunis.
Dans la Force des choses, Beauvoir s’attache à souligner à la fois l’inten-
sité humaine de la rencontre (terme qui revient souvent sous la plume de
Beauvoir à l’égard de Fanon; à sa mort, elle écrit: ‘Sa mort pesait lourd
parce qu’il l’avait chargée de toute l’intensité de sa vie’, p. 635), mais aussi
les limites de leur entente. A un premier niveau, Fanon reprochait à Sartre
et à Beauvoir une certaine forme de réserve ou d’économie de soi, qu’il ne
pouvait tolérer en raison du caractère doublement urgent de la situation:
Nous retrouvâmes Sartre pour déjeuner: la conversation dura jusqu’à 2

heures du matin; je la brisai le plus poliment possible, en expliquant que
Sartre avait besoin de sommeil. Fanon en fut outré: ‘Je déteste les gens qui
s’économisent’, dit-il à Lanzmann qu’il tint éveillé jusqu’à 8 heures du matin
[…] Fanon avait énormément de choses à dire à Sartre et de questions à lui
poser. ‘Je paierais vingt mille francs par jour pour parler avec Sartre du
matin au soir pendant quinze jours’, dit-il en riant à Lanzmann (p. 619).
Fanon leur reprochait, plus sérieusement et à un second niveau, le fait

d’être français, et surtout, de ne pas suffisamment l’expier (Fanon n’avait

38. Alice Cherki, ‘Préface sans doute pas connaissance des écrits en cours de Beauvoir, motivés par
à l’édition de 2002’, la honte d’être française). Le reproche vise principalement Sartre dans la
in Les Damnés de la
terre, op. cit., p. 11. mesure où c’était lui (bien davantage que Beauvoir) qui, à ce moment-là,
incarnait, pour Fanon et le reste du monde, l’action politique de soutien à
39. Simone de Beauvoir,
La Force des choses, op. tous les opprimés en guerre contre le colonialisme. C’est précisément en
cit., p. 620 et 624 raison de la valeur et de la notoriété de l’engagement de Sartre, que Fanon
respectivement. avait souhaité la préface qu’il donna à son livre (qui reste un très beau
texte, peut-être davantage lu et commenté au cours des années que le
corps de texte de Fanon). Pourtant, dans l’introduction de l’édition de
2002 des Damnés de la terre, Alice Cherki met au jour un aspect important
de la réception du texte de Sartre par Fanon: d’après elle, Sartre s’éloigne
du projet initial qu’il présente: d’abord, en l’adressant essentiellement aux
Européens, tandis que Fanon s’adresse à tous vers un dépassement de la
‘peur de l’autre’; ensuite, en radicalisant l’analyse de Fanon sur la vio-
lence. Alice Cherki explique comment Fanon reçut cette préface: ‘Fanon,
en lisant la préface de Sartre, ne fit aucun commentaire; il resta même
contrairement à son habitude, extrêmement silencieux. Néanmoins, il
écrivit à François Maspero qu’il espérait avoir, le moment venu, la possibilité
de s’expliquer.’38
Au-delà des divergences entre Fanon et Sartre (le dialogue semble par-
fois impossible), il reste de la rencontre romaine, un magistral portrait de
Fanon, dressé par Beauvoir dans la Force des choses, et dont il faut souligner
la justesse et la sensibilité:
D’une intelligence aiguë, intensément vivant, doté d’un sombre humour, il

expliquait, bouffonnait, interpellait, imitait racontait: il rendait présent tout
ce qu’il évoquait.
Nos conversations furent toujours d’un extrême intérêt, grâce à la richesse
de son information, son pouvoir d’évocation, la rapidité et l’audace de sa
pensée. Par amitié, et aussi pour l’avenir de l’Algérie et de l’Afrique, nous
souhaitions que sa maladie lui accordât un long sursis. C’était quelqu’un
d’exceptionnel. Quand je serrais sa main fiévreuse, je croyais toucher la
passion qui le brûlait. Il communiquait ce feu; près de lui, la vie semblait une
aventure tragique, souvent horrible, mais d’un prix infini.39
De Beauvoir à Fanon, quelque chose est passé, le feu a été communiqué. De

même que Fanon est considéré aujourd’hui comme un auteur postcolonial,
il faut relever une dimension comparable dans l’œuvre de Beauvoir, qui, très
tôt et radicalement, s’est opposée au système colonial, a posé la nécessité
pour les femmes comme (pour les) individus colonisés, de transcender la con-
dition de l’Autre imposée de l’extérieur par leurs oppresseurs, et a ouvert les
voies d’une conduite morale pour un avenir postcolonial. Beauvoir suggère
ainsi une dialectique qui va de la position de l’Autre à une position autre, à
un avenir autre, qui est mouvement tendu vers l’avenir, engagement et liai-
son aux autres. Chez Beauvoir et Fanon, se trouve une même volonté de
dépassement, qui ressortit à une conception commune de la temporalité: à
partir de la conscience de la valeur du présent, il s’agit de retourner l’expéri-
ence du négatif, pour s’arracher vers l’avenir (le titre du livre de Fanon, L’An
V de la révolution algérienne, manifeste ce projet). Dans Pour une morale de l’am-
biguïté, Beauvoir écrit que ‘chacun doit mener sa lutte en liaison avec celle
422 Annabelle Golay

des autres et en l’intégrant au dessein général’,40 ce qui souligne l’inter- 40. Simone de Beauvoir,
dépendance et la solidarité de toutes les luttes de libération. L’oppression Pour une morale de
l’ambiguïté, op. cit.,
ayant plus d’un visage, si dans le contexte historique de la fin des années 50 p. 111.
et du début des années 60, l’engagement féministe de Beauvoir semble sub-
41. Kirsten Holst
ordonné à la lutte pour la décolonisation, c’est d’une part que l’urgence de la Petersen, ‘First Thing
situation l’exigeait, et d’autre part, que la libération des nations colonisées First. Problems of a
servait la lutte de libération des femmes (ce que défend Fanon dans ‘L’Algérie Feminist Approach
to African Literature’,
se dévoile’): ‘First things first’, pourrait-on dire en reprenant la formule- in The Post-colonial
titre de Kirsten Holst Petersen.’41 Les luttes de libération nationale et fémin- Studies Reader, Bill
iste s’expriment dans le même moment de l’histoire, dans les mêmes termes, Ashcroft et al. (eds),
op. cit., p. 251.
possèdent de nombreux enjeux communs, et sont donc extrêmement liées
sans pour autant toutefois s’équivaloir. Nous voyons au terme de cette étude
comment une hiérarchie peut être établie entre elles, avec l’urgence historique
de l’une par rapport à l’autre exprimée chez Beauvoir, et la subordination
inclusive chez Fanon de la lutte pour la libération des femmes à travers la
reconquête nationale.
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Suggested citation
Golay, A. (2007), ‘Féminisme et postcolonialisme: Beauvoir, Fanon et la guerre
d’Algérie’, International Journal of Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 407–424,
doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.407/1
Contributor details
Annabelle Golay is a Ph.D. candidate in French, specialist of the twentieth-century
literature. The title of her dissertation project is: ‘Les autobiographies de Simone de
Beauvoir, témoignage capital d’un siècle’. She is preparing her Ph.D. in a ‘cotutelle’,
which is an agreement that allows her to prepare a co-directed Ph.D. both at Tulane
University and at the University of Lyon 2 in France. Contact: Tulane University,
French Department, 311 Newcomb Hall, New Orleans, La 70118.
E-mail: agolay@tulane.edu
424 Annabelle Golay

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Forum. English Language. doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.425/7
When French-Canadian literature freed

itself from the tutelage of Paris
David Parris Trinity College Dublin
Abstract Keywords
Soon after the Second World War, a dispute broke out between a group of French Brunet
intellectuals and the Montréal-based publisher Robert Charbonneau. Charbonneau’s Charbonneau
views on the grievances of the French are brought together in: La France et nous. culture
Around the same time, Charbonneau’s friend Berthelot Brunet wrote a Histoire France
de la littérature française in which he is critical of French culture. The two texts French-Canadian
mark a break with France, a refusal of its hegemony, and at the same time they hegemony
give an idea of what was to be known as la littérature québécoise. literature
Résumé
Au lendemain de la deuxième guerre mondiale, une querelle éclata entre un groupe 1. Brunet’s Histoire de la
d’intellectuels français et l’éditeur montréalais Robert Charbonneau. Les réponses literature canadienne-
française, which,
de Charbonneau aux divers reproches formulés contre les Canadiens ont été unlike his then
regroupées dans : La France et nous. Vers la même époque, un intellectuel unpublished Histoire
et ami de Charbonneau, Berthelot Brunet a rédigé une l’Histoire de la de la literature
française was known
littérature française dans laquelle il adopte une attitude critique vis-à-vis de at the time of the
la culture française. Ces deux textes marquent une rupture avec la France, un ‘quarrel’ is not kind
refus d’accepter sa domination, et en même temps, ils donnent une première to French-Canadian
literature: In La
ébauche de la future littérature québécoise. France et nous
Charbonneau seems
to share Brunet’s
Two texts are the main source for this article: La France et nous – a collec- view that
contemporary
tion of articles published under this title by Robert Charbonneau (charting French-Canadian
a bitter dispute that broke out after the Second World War between French literature is best.
intellectuals and Canadian publishers) – and l’Histoire de la littérature Brunet’s history only
figures in a short
française by Berthelot Brunet, published only in 1970, long after his death, annex: ‘De toutes les
but certainly written round the time of the famous quarrel ostensibly over œuvres publiés avant
the validity of French-Canadian culture, i.e. 1946–47. Strangely, the criti- 1900, je ne
retiendrais que Les
cal apparatus in the appendix to La France et nous does not mention Brunet Anciens Canadiens,
among the lesser protagonists in the quarrel (only the French ones being L’Histoire du Canada
mentioned) (Charbonneau 1993: 105) and only one of his articles is men- de F.X. Garneau,
quelques pages de
tioned as being part of the polemic (Brunet 1947b: 4). But Brunet gets six Fréchette, des Contes
mentions in the text, and in the 1947 edition, a critique of his Histoire de la de Pamphile Lemay,
littérature canadienne-française (Brunet 1946a) is included as an annex.1 So les Poésies de

Nelligan’ says the it is fair enough to assume there was a close working relationship between
reviewer. Despite the Charbonneau and Brunet.
availability today of
Les Meilleurs romans In any case, these authors and the quarrel represent an important
québécois du XIXe moment in the history of thought on French-Canadian and Quebec literature,
siècle (ed. Gilles and it will be argued that this moment marks a crucial turning point in
Dorion) it is unlikely
many colleagues ven- the literary history of Québec. Our aim is not to tell the story of the quarrel,
ture far beyond the which others have already done (see Marcotte 1986: 39–63).
texts Charbonneau When did French-Canadian literature ‘start’? We are aware of research
lists. Of Brunet’s book
the reviewer writes: into the creation of the literary institution in Quebec in the nineteenth cen-
‘Presque tout son tury. Equally, we know that the early decades of this literature witnessed only
livre est rempli par a modest production. Charbonneau does not seem sure where to set the
les contemporains
[...] Brunet travaille date: ‘Alors qu’il existe des littératures suisse, belge, suédoise, norvégienne,
dans le vif [...] Les etc., jusqu’à 1920, il n’existe pas à proprement parler de littérature canadi-
jugements ne sont enne’ (Charbonneau 1993: 45). Elsewhere, in an interview, dating from the
pas définitifs. Ils ne
peuvent pas l’être et same period Charbonneau declares: ‘Notre littérature [...] ne compte vrai-
ne visent pas à l’être’ ment que depuis 1930’ (Charbonneau 1947b). Perhaps there is a subtle dis-
(Charbonneau 1993: tinction between ‘une littérature qui existe’ and ‘une littérature qui compte’.
89). Clearly, both
men saw French- In any event, in La France et nous, we do not have the impression of a man
Canadian literature proud of a pre-existing literary heritage, but rather of one who sees his liter-
as a work in ature on the brink of a great expansion. In the ‘Discours prononcé au
progress.
Congrès de la Société des Éditeurs canadiens’ he modestly claims: ‘Alors
2. Just as he alludes to qu’avant 1935 les écrivains d’imagination étaient rares, aujourd’hui, il faut
Du Bellay, so here
clearly Charbonneau plutôt conseiller aux jeunes de remettre leur ouvrage sur le métier,2 de se
is thinking of perfectionner. Parmi ces jeunes, plusieurs seront demain de grands
Boileau’s Art Poétique, écrivains’ (Charbonneau 1947a: 62). This may be what Berthelot Brunet
ll 172/4: ‘Vingt fois
sur le métier remettez means in the first sentence of his Histoire de la littérature canadienne-française:
votre ouvrage: / ‘L’histoire de la littérature canadienne-française offre cette singularité que
Polissez-le sans cesse ses meilleurs écrivains se rencontrent à ses débuts et à la période contempo-
et le repolissez;/
Ajoutez quelquefois, raine: le prologue et l’épilogue ont plus d’importance que le corps de l’ou-
et souvent effacez.’ vrage’ (Brunet 1947: 13). True, Charbonneau quotes names that have
remained famous in the annals of Québec literature: ‘un Saint-Denys
Garneau, un Alain Grandbois, un Yves Thériault, un Roger Lemelin, un Léo-
Paul Desrosiers, une Gabrielle Roy et autres’ (Charbonneau 1993: 36). But
let us remind ourselves that at that time, Gabrielle Roy had only just pub-
lished Bonheur d’occasion (1945) while Les Plouffe by Roger Lemelin (c1948)
and Agaguk (c1958) by Yves Thériault had yet to appear (as far as I can tell,
Charbonneau’s only indication of Thériault’s talent was Contes pour un
homme seul (1944) published by Charbonneau). So these are authors whose
potential Charbonneau, as a publisher, was able to gauge. The reason for
which this polemic marks a turning point in the history of French-
Canadian/Quebec literature has more to do with what was about to be than
with what actually was. As already in the nineteenth century, French-
Canadian literature was defined before coming into existence: here for once
essence does precede existence, and a programme for the literature had been
worked out before there were many works to fulfil it.
Recently, Gérard Bouchard has established a kind of typology of the
relationship between what he calls ‘les pays neufs’ and the country from
which they spring, based on the need to reconcile a desire for a long memory
with the fact of having a short history. In some cases, according to him,
the new country, springing from a former colony, seeks to enhance its cul-
ture by clinging to the cultural values of the metropole: ‘Dans notre cas
426 David Parris

(on retrouve un peu la même chose en Nouvelle-Zélande, au Canada et

ailleurs), la mémoire longue est construite en se coulant dans le temps
long de la tradition française, en faisant dériver une historicité
canadienne-française de la vieille historicité française’ (Bouchard
1999: 49). Then comes a second stage, in which the cultural hege-
mony of the other-country is rejected, as Gérard Bouchard continues:
Dans une phase initiale, elles [les cultures] ont reproduit la culture de la
mère patrie, dont elles étaient totalement dépendantes. Puis, peu à peu, elles
ont édifié une culture autonome, elles ont effectué leur décrochage. Dans le
cas du Québec, c’est assez remarquable, on observe plutôt deux allers et
retours: de la continuité à la rupture (du XVIIe siècle au milieu du XIXe siècle),
puis un retour à la continuité (jusqu’à la Seconde Guerre mondiale environ),
puis une autre volte-face vers la rupture.
(Bouchard 1999: 60)
This notion of a ‘double aller et retour’ is extremely illuminating, because

it helps us to understand Charbonneau’s point of view, which was that
French-Canadian/Quebec literature had barely got off the ground, and
also the perspective of those who, nearer to us in time, are researching the
earliest period of the colony. If the inhabitants of New-France eventually
took the name of Canadiens, it was precisely in order to show they were no
longer the same as the French. On the other hand, after the Durham
report and around the time of the British North America Act setting up a
federal Canada, French identity was reaffirmed (with the generalization of
the term canadien-français) through a whole raft of historical works, of
which Les Anciens Canadiens (Aubert de Gaspé 1863) is the apogee.
For Gérard Bouchard, the breaking point after which French identity is
no longer in the ascendant comes in the 1940s. He maintains that the rel-
ative sterility of colonial literature is a consequence of imitating models
from the mother country in too servile a way: ‘C’est en grande partie cette
culture qu’on a diffusée dans les collèges classiques, dans la société. C’est
celle-là qui a imprégné nos romans, nos œuvres d’art. Et c’est ce qui fait
qu’il n’y a pas vraiment eu de très grands romanciers avant les années
1940 chez les Canadiens-français’ (Bouchard 1999: 122).
Charbonneau and Brunet may not be the instigators of this historical
process, but they are singularly well-placed and lucid observers of it, and
Charbonneau, as a publisher and polemicist must certainly be seen as
more than just a bystander. Charbonneau is at pains to reiterate his admi-
ration for France, but at the same time he claims for French Canada the
right to have its own literature: ‘Au Canada, nous avons accepté, comme
un dogme, la supériorité de la technique française sur toutes les autres.
Pour avancer, il faut maintenant, sans cesser d’étudier les Français, éten-
dre nos recherches à d’autres techniques et à d’autres œuvres’
(Charbonneau 1993: 34). For Charbonneau, at a time when this kind of
concept was not yet current and when the great European powers had
barely begun to dismantle their empires, it was a colonial problem: ‘Le
premier pas d’une littérature vers l’autonomie consiste à répudier toute
conception coloniale de la culture’ (Charbonneau 1993: 34). The litera-
tures to which Charbonneau compares French-Canadian literature –
those of French-speaking Switzerland, Belgium, Sweden, Norway, but
When French-Canadian literature freed itself from the tutelage of Paris 427
also nineteenth-century Russia – are all of recent creation. In the case of

Russia, the flowering of the Slavic movement had placed it on an equal foot-
ing with France. Throwing off the French yoke is necessary for two reasons:
firstly, Charbonneau foresees that the fledgling French-Canadian literature
will have an international influence: ‘Ayant un public qui débordait les
cadres de la province de Québec, la jeune littérature, tout en s’appuyant
solidement sur le milieu canadien, tend à devenir universelle’ (Charbonneau
1993: 43). He deplores the ignorance of the French with regard to all that
happens abroad, and does not believe the French will ever be a good public
for French-Canada: ‘Ne nous faisons pas d’illusion. Le Français, sauf
quelques grandes et généreuses exceptions, est l’homme qui ne connaît pas
les étrangers’ (Charbonneau 1993: 53). Not only is the young French-
Canadian literature unlikely to find a faithful readership in France, it is also
unlikely to find good models there, because intellectual life there seems to
him sadly impoverished. According to Robert Charbonneau ‘la crise que tra-
verse la France n’est pas seulement une crise politique, économique ou
physique, mais une crise spirituelle’ (Charbonneau 1993: 38).
Charbonneau mentions other literatures, because he hopes his litera-
ture will be enriched through imitation. Has French literature itself not
imitated? ‘Si les Français n’avaient subi d’influences que françaises, leur
littérature se serait rapidement appauvrie’ (Charbonneau 1993: 34).
Can Charbonneau fail to grasp that this is almost a direct quotation
from Joachim Du Bellay who was encouraging the French to enrich their
literature through imitation just after Jacques Cartier discovered Canada:
‘Mais si Virgile et Ciceron se fussent contentez d’imiter ceux de leur
langue, qu’auroient les Latins outre Ennie ou Lucrece, outre Crasse ou
Antoine?’ (Du Bellay, s.d.: 59).
Of course, Charbonneau sees the need for imitation, but even though he
says the French-Canadians should continue studying the French, he believes
that Europe in general and France in particular are going through a period
of crisis: ‘Pour nous, qui avons cessé de croire que l’Europe est le centre d’où
partent toutes les impulsions artistiques, la crise du roman en France ne
présage pas un affaiblissement de l’esprit de création dans le monde’
(Charbonneau 1993: 57). The procès d’intention, which French intellectuals
brought against him, seems to him to be no more than a symptom of the
intellectual malaise which makes France a poor model to follow.
From the outset, Charbonneau sees that the new French-Canadian lit-
erature’s vocation is American: ‘Écrivains canadiens-français, nous devons
nous efforcer de découvrir notre signification américaine’ (Charbonneau
1993: 34). The notion of américanité (Americanness) is often ambiguous:
often today it is used to designate the expansion of narrative space to
englobe the whole North American continent. For Robert Charbonneau, it
rather means the integration of French-Canadian literature into the
‘ensemble’ of American literatures. Instead of being seen as a threat to cul-
tural integrity, bilingualism is a potential source of enrichment: ‘Pourquoi,
nous qui possédons deux langues, attendrions-nous, pour nous enrichir de
la substance des écrivains américains ou anglais, qu’ils aient été traduits et
assimilés par les Français?’ (Charbonneau 1993: 51). Let us note that he is
talking about the propagation of ideas and the transmission of influences;
the Americas are destined to become a coherent and autonomous cultural
428 David Parris

zone, so that ideas will no longer need to stop over in Paris before returning 3. Canadian publishing
to spread in other parts of the New World (the ‘double aller et retour’). houses had been
allowed to reprint
This openness to other cultures, to France, of course, but also to other European copyright
American cultures, is the necessary condition for French-Canadian cul- material during the
ture to achieve a universal status: ‘Nos écrivains n’ont qu’à continuer German occupation,
paying copyright at a
comme ils ont commencé. Ils n’ont qu’à être canadiens et à chercher leur very advantageous
technique non dans un seul pays, ni à travers un seul pays, mais partout. rate (The Patents,
À cette condition, ils garderont leur place dans la littérature universelle’ Designs, Copyright and
Trade Marks
(Charbonneau 1993: 65). (Emergency) Act
Brunet’s Histoire de la littérature française was by no means an influen- 1939).
tial book: it was only published finally after Quebec literature had well and
truly come of age. It would be easy to see it as just an example of the
author’s caustic wit. In fact, its approach is much more radical, and illus-
trates the turning point French-Canadian culture had reached. For the
first time, he takes a critical stance vis-à-vis French literature, standing
well back from it: he sees it as a foreign literature:
Les grands écrivains français de la France ne sont pas les grands écrivains
français de l’étranger, et les écrivains importants de l’Angleterre ne sont
pas les écrivains caractéristiques de l’Angleterre, pour la France. Un
Canadien peut donc se permettre ne fût-ce qu’à titre d’expérience
curieuse, d’affirmer ses préférences de Canadien, lorsqu’il lit les écrivains
français.
(Brunet 1970: 25)
Aragon had attacked Canadian publishers (several times, seemingly – La

France et nous quotes him at length from p. 58 to p. 61, and p. 65 to p. 69,
and without going into the details of the ‘quarrel’, Charbonneau felt
Aragon despised French Canada, while French authors were very possibly
anxious to protect their commercial interests against potential rivals that
had sprung up during the war3), because they had dared to publish right-
wing authors who were the object of purges in France at the time. Surely
Brunet is commenting on this situation when he writes: ‘Ce qui gêne le
plus l’étranger, lorsqu’il regarde de haut et de loin la littérature française,
c’est son aspect politique’ (Brunet 1970: 27).
Brunet’s criticism begins with the most essential, the least avoidable
thing, the very thing that ought to have been the bridge across the Atlantic
linking Quebec and France: the language:
Une autre raison qui rend l’étude des écrivains français assez difficile pour
l’étranger (il en est de même pour toutes les littératures sans doute, mais à
divers degrés), c’est que la littérature française a toujours usé d’une langue à
part. Qu’on songe au jargon des romans psychologiques, dont l’intelligent
Jacques Rivière a fait un usage intempérant dans Aimée. Qu’on pense au
jargon poétique, qui change cinq, six fois par siècle [...].
(Brunet 1970: 28)
Not for a moment does Brunet worry that the fault might lie with the
overseas reader; for him, the fault lies with the French and is inherent in
the language. Of course, we know that since, criticism of university jargon
has become one of the constants of Quebec literature, which has also
made a special place for spoken varieties of French.
Brunet’s judgements on French literature are never the ones an
aficionado would expect. Like Boileau, he starts with Villon ‘le premier
grand poète que nous présente l’histoire des letters françaises’ (p. 31) and
works his way through to Malraux, Saint-Exupéry and even Sartre
(‘Sartre me semble le Huysmans de ce Balzac et de ce Zola que serait
Malraux [...]’ p. 224). For each great author of the canon – and it is his
attacks on the seventeenth century that seem most calculated to offend
the French – Brunet finds another author he prefers. But there is some-
thing more important at work than a perverse sense of contradiction.
Naturally, he hates classicism, and deplores Greek influence: ‘Les ambi-
tions de Ronsard n’auraient été qu’un travers amusant, s’il n’avait admiré
l’antiquité avec excès. Ce fétichisme gâtera les lettres françaises, en fera
parfois une littérature de traduction’ (Brunet 1970: 36).
Beneath the authors we know, Brunet always sees another, always
better, that we might have had if only his genius had not been perverted
by the pernicious influence of classicism: ‘Malherbe est donc un autre
exemple du mal que les théories classiques ont fait à la poésie française.
Je songe toujours au Racine que nous aurions eu, si Racine ne s’était pas plié
aux règles, s’il s’était abandonné au démon racinien’ (Brunet 1970: 53).
Rare indeed are the classical authors (or rather, authors of the classical
period) of whom Brunet approves (Retz, Saint-Simon, Pascal, Saint-
Evremond... perhaps Madame de Sévigné). Corneille fares no better than
Racine: ‘Pierre Corneille [est] l’un de ces nombreux classiques qui ne
passent pas la frontière. Tous les peuples ont de ces classiques. Les
écrivains universels sont plus rares que les grands écrivains...’ (Brunet
1970: 58). At roughly the same time as Charbonneau was predicting for
French-Canadian literature a great future and a universal outreach, and
when many French authors of the day were reminding French-Canadian
authors that their literature had only a secondary role to play within the
French-speaking world, Brunet was busy proclaiming – unbeknownst to
them, it is true – that French literature is far from being as interesting to
foreigners as the French might like to think, and that its principal
advantages – the language and the classical tradition – are an obstacle
for foreigners, even if these are francophones of the diaspora: ‘Les
poètes classiques français ne passent guère la frontière et c’est souvent
parce que l’étranger est sensible à leurs défauts plus que les Français
qui ne leur trouvent que des qualités’ (Brunet 1970: 81). One might
carry on producing quotations of this kind for a very long time.
Although, in places, the Histoire de la littérature française may seem a little
thin, elsewhere, one is amazed at the breadth of Brunet’s knowledge. His
vast erudition does not seem to have been much of a consolation to
him, though, and at the very moment Charbonneau was speaking of
a ‘crise spirituelle’ (Charbonneau 1993: 38) or of a ‘crise d’épuise-
ment’ (Charbonneau 1993: 57) suggesting that ‘la crise du roman en
France ne présage pas un affaiblissement de l’esprit de création dans
le monde’ (Charbonneau 1993: 57), Brunet, who no doubt agreed
with him, was insinuating that perhaps French literature never had
been as good as people thought.
430 David Parris

If we attempt to draw together the conclusion of both authors, we might

sum up as follows:
• French-Canadian literature is about to ‘take off ’ in the immediate post-

war period
• it will be a universal literature
• provided it is firmly rooted in its North American contexts
• and does not imitate French literature too slavishly
• French literature is not a very good model
• French-Canadian literature should find better models from within a
network of American cultures.
No doubt the founding text of Quebec literature is Refus global by Paul-

Émile Borduas published in 1948. But when we read there: ‘Petit peuple
qui malgré tout se multiplie dans la générosité de la chair sinon dans celle
de l’esprit, au nord de l’immense Amérique au corps sémillant de la
jeunesse au cœur d’or, mais à la morale simiesque, envoûtée par le pres-
tige annihilant du souvenir des chefs-d’œuvre d’Europe, dédaigneuse des
authentiques créations de ses classes opprimées’ (Borduas 1977: 28) the
same themes of américanité and the need to find originality by casting off
servile imitation of old Europe are only too clear. Borduas prefers to
speak ill of the mentality of the colony rather than of that of the mother
country, and in so doing, gives a less cogent reason for the break that
those advanced by Charbonneau and Brunet just two years earlier.
Charbonneau and Brunet are not blind to the failings of French Canada as
far as literature is concerned: Charbonneau lists (with great foresight) the
promising young authors who are, for the most part, only on the point of
proving their talent, while Brunet’s Histoire de la littérature canadienne-
française concentrates resolutely on the most recent authors. Both men see
France as a force to be reckoned with, but not as a very positive model. For
Charbonneau, France not only provides a bad model, but a bad public, and
integration in an American intellectual universe seems to hold out the
promise of greater acceptance, more equal exchanges and even of greater
commercial success. The French notion, which had often been expressed
during the quarrel, of Canada as a ‘cultural province of France’ is a colo-
nial construct Charbonneau is anxious to reject, in favour of a model of
intellectual relations in which Canada will not be subject to the approval
of Paris. The literatures to which he seeks to compare French-Canadian
literature are not those hallowed by age, but those of new literatures
whose rise coincides in time with that of the nation state.
References
Aubert de Gaspé, Philippe (2006), Les Anciens canadiens, Quebec, Desbarats et
Derbishire, 1863: modern edition ViaMedias.
Borduas, Paul-Émile (1977), Refus global (original edition) Saint-Hilaire, Mithra-
Mythe Editeur, c1948, here quoted from Montreal, Parti pris.
Bouchard, Gérard and Michel Lacombe (1999), Dialogue sur les pays neufs,
Montreal: Boréal.
Brunet, Berthelot (1947), ‘M. Aragon “engage” la guerre contre les critiques
canadiens’, Le Canada, 44: 247, 25 janvier.
—— (1970a), (original edition) Histoire de la littérature canadienne-française,

Montreal, éditions de l’Arbre, 1946 here quoted from Montreal, HMH.
—— (1970b), Histoire de la littérature française, Jean Dufresne (ed.), Montreal,
HMH.
Charbonneau, Robert (1947a), La France et nous (original edition) Édition de l’Arbre,
here quoted from Élisabeth Nardout-Lafarge (ed.), Montreal, BQ, 1993.
—— (1947b), ‘Robert Charbonneau croit en l’influence mondiale du Canada’
(interview with Jean Luce), La Presse, 17 May 1947.
Lemelin, Roger (c1948), Les Plouffe, Quebec: Bélisle.
Marcotte, Gilles (1986), ‘Robert Charbonneau, la France, René Garneau et nous’,
Écrits du Canada Français, 57, pp. 39–63.
Du Bellay (s.d.), La Défence et illustration de la langue française, Paris: Garnier.
Roy, Gabrielle (1976), Bonheur d’occasion, Montreal: Société des Éditions Pascal,
1945 (Prix Fémina 1947): modern edition Editions du Boreal.
Thériault, Yves (1944), Contes pour un homme seul, Montreal: Éditions de l’’Arbe.
—— (c1958), Agaguk — roman esquimau, Quebec: B. Grasset.
Suggested citation
Parris, D. (2007), ‘When French-Canadian literature freed itself from the tutelage
of Paris’, International Journal of Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 425–432,
doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.425/7
Contributor details
David Parris is Senior Lecturer in French in Trinity College Dublin and a Fellow of
Trinity College Dublin. Francophone literatures are his major interest, and he has
published on C. F. Ramuz, various aspects of Quebec literature. His other interests
are minorities in literature (sexual and religious) and migrant literature. Contact:
Department of French, Arts Building, Trinity College Dublin, Dublin, 2, Ireland.
E-mail: dparris@tcd.ie
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Post ou péricolonialisme: l’ étrange

modèle québécois (notes)
Lise Gauvin Université de Montréal
Abstract Keywords
These notes report on the title and text of a short paper given at a round table postcolonialisme
organized by CRILCQ (Centre de recherché interuniversitaire sur la littérature et Québec
la culture québécoise) at the conference of the American Council for Quebec La Nouvelle-France
Studies held in Quebec, 19 November 2004. The question of postcolonialism in Péricolonialisme
Quebec had recently been examined by Vincent Desroches in a special dossier on Durham
Quebec and Postcolonialism in the journal Quebec Studies, no. 35, Spring-
Summer 2003. However, all those taking part in the round table expressed a
certain degree of reticence over the use of the concept in Québécois literature. One
of them, Réjean Beaudoin, subsequently published his point of view in an article
entitled ‘Is Québécois literature postcolonial?’ His conclusion read: ‘Québécois
literature can take on the ghosts of its dual colonialism. Putting it in the post-
colonial ragbag is a desperate attempt to normalise it’ (L’Inconvénient, no. 24,
February 2006). Also worth reading on the subject are Rachel Killick’s article,
‘In the fold? Postcolonialism and Quebec’, Romance Studies, vol. 24, no. 3,
November 2006, pp. 181–92, and the collection entitled Reconfigurations.
Canadian Literature and Postcolonial Identities/Littératures canadiennes
et identités postcoloniales, edited by Marc Maufort and Franco Bellarsi,
Bruxelles, Peter Lang, 2002.
Résumé
Ces quelques réflexions reprennent le titre et le texte d’une brève communication
donnée dans le cadre d’une table ronde organisée par le CRILCQ (Centre de
recherche interuniversitaire sur la littérature et la culture québécoise) à l’occasion
du Congrès de l’American Council for Québec Studies, Québec, 19 novembre
2004. La question du postcolonialisme au Québec venait d’être examinée dans un
numéro spécial de la revue Québec Studies, sous la responsabilité de Vincent
Desroches, no 35, Spring-summer 2003, ‘Quebec and Postcolonial theory’.
Cependant, les participants à la table ronde ont tous exprimé une certaine réti-
cence face à l’utilisation du concept pour la littérature québécoise. L’un de ceux-
ci, Réjean Beaudoin, a par la suite publié son point de vue dans un article intitulé
‘La littérature québécoise est-elle postcoloniale?’ Sa conclusion se lit comme suit:
‘La littérature québécoise peut assumer les fantômes de son double colonial-
isme. La ranger dans le fourre-tout postcolonial, c’est vouloir la normaliser à
tout prix.’ (L’Inconvénient, no 24, février 2006). On lira également sur le sujet
l’article de Rachel Killick, ‘In the fold? Postcolonialisme and Quebec’, Romance
Studies, vol. 24, no, november 2006, p.181–192, ainsi que le collectif intitulé

1. S. Slemon, ‘The Reconfigurations. Canadian Literature and Postcolonial Identities/ Littératures

Scramble for Post- canadiennes et identités postcoloniales, sous la dir. de Marc Maufort et Franco
colonialism’,
in C. Tiffin and bellarsi, Bruxelles, Peter Lang, 2002.
A. Lawson (eds),
De-scribing Empire. Un certain flou entoure la notion de postcolonialisme. Comme le signale
Postcolonialism and
Textuality, Londres, Stephen Slemon, on l’a utilisé tour à tour ‘comme un moyen d’ordonner une
Routledge, 1994, pp. critique des formes totalisantes de l’historicisme occidental, comme un
16-17. Traduction de mot-valise servant une conception rénovée de la « classe » comme un
Jean–Marc Moura,
dans Exotisme et sous–ensemble à la fois du postmodernisme et du poststructuralisme, […]
lettres francophones, comme un nom pour le conservatisme autochtone dans les groupements
Paris, PUF, nationaux d’après les indépendances, […] comme l’inévitable soubassement
‘Écritures’, p. 193.
d’un discours fragmenté et ambivalent du pouvoir colonialiste […]’1 Il y a
2. Entretien avec Lise dans le mot post un implicite téléologique qui suppose un avant et un après,
Gauvin, ‘Faire le guet
du monde’, Le Devoir, soit un système d’oppositions binaires orienté vers l’idée d’un point d’arrivée
16 janvier 2001. ou à tout le moins d’une stase dans le jeu des pouvoirs et le développement
des nations. Édouard Glissant, à qui je demandais de se situer par rapport au
postcolonialisme, m’a répondu ceci:
Je ne me sens pas un postcolonialiste parce que je suis dans une histoire qui ne
s’arrête pas. Il n’y a pas une histoire postcolonialiste de l’histoire de la Caraïbe,
et même des Amériques. Il y a un discontinuum qui pèse encore sur nous. Si
on appelle postcolonialisme le fait que l’on est dans une période où l’on peut
réfléchir sur un phénomène passé qui s’appellerait le colonialisme, je dis que ce
n’est pas vrai. Nous sommes encore en période colonialiste, mais c’est un colo-
nialisme qui a pris une autre forme. C’est un colonialisme de dominations des
grandes multinationales. Un pays colonisateur n’a plus besoin d’en occuper un
autre pour le coloniser. Il y a quelque chose de récapitulatif, de synthétique et
de conclusif dans le terme postcolonialisme que je récuse.2
Ces notions d’avant et d’après, suspectes en Histoire, le sont tout autant en

littérature. Pourtant, on ne saurait nier le fait de la colonisation au
moment de l’expansion des puissances européennes. Le mot, sinon la
chose, a été utilisé au Québec à quelques moments stratégiques. Rappelons
brièvement certains faits. La Nouvelle-France a été peuplée par des
Français et a constitué ce que l’on appelle en anglais une ‘settler colonie’
ou colonie de peuplement, donnant lieu à une culture particulière, comme
ce fut le cas dans les pays du nouveau Monde. Les habitants de la
Nouvelle-France étaient des Européens coloniaux et colonisateurs qui ne
pouvaient véritablement se dire colonisés, sinon par l’autorité du pouvoir
central. Les véritables colonisés étaient alors les Amérindiens.
Sous le régime anglais, la situation est, bien entendu, fort différente,
puisque les francophones deviennent des sujets britanniques que l’on
tente par divers moyens d’assimiler. Rappelons les phrases tristement
célèbres de Durham:
Je n’entretiens aucun doute au sujet du caractère national qui doit être donné
au Bas-Canada; ce doit être celui de l’Empire britannique, celui de la majorité
de la population de l’Amérique britannique, celui de la grande race qui doit, à
une époque prochaine, être prédominante sur tout le continent de l’Amérique
du Nord. Sans opérer le changement ni trop rapidement ni trop rudement
434 Lise Gauvin

pour ne pas froisser les sentiments et ne pas sacrifier le bien-être de la généra- 3. Octave Crémazie,
tion actuelle, l’intention première et ferme du gouvernement britannique doit ‘À l’abbé Casgrain.
Lettre du 29 janvier
à l’avenir consister à établir dans la province une population anglaise avec les 1967’, in Crémazie,
lois et la langue anglaises, et à ne confier le gouvernement de cette province Fides, ‘Classiques
qu’à une Assemblée décidément anglaise. (Rapport Durham 1839) canadiens’, Montréal
et Paris, 1956.
Peu à peu les francophones retrouvent certains droits. Après l’expérience

malheureuse de l’Acte d’union, en 1840, qui constituait une régression
par rapport au régime politique précédent et annulait la relative autonomie
politique du Bas-Canada à majorité française, ils acceptent le compromis
historique qu’est la création de la Confédération canadienne, en 1867,
alors formée de quatre provinces distinctes. C’est précisément la même
année que le poète Octave Crémazie utilise le terme de ‘colonie’ pour
décrire la situation de l’écrivain canadien. Un siècle plus tard, en 1967, au
moment de l’Exposition universelle et de la très médiatisée visite du
Général de Gaulle, les écrivains s’interrogent et ont recours à la notion de
colonisation pour décrire leur situation. Ce sont ces deux moments que
j’aimerais évoquer ici brièvement pour ensuite tenter de faire le point sur
la situation actuelle.
Voyons d’abord le texte de Crémazie, qui réfléchit aux conditions d’exis-
tence d’une littérature de langue française hors de France:
Plus je réfléchis sur les destinées de la littérature canadienne, moins je lui

trouve de chances de laisser une trace dans l’histoire. Ce qui manque au
Canada, c’est d’avoir une langue à lui. Si nous parlions iroquois ou huron,
notre littérature vivrait. Malheureusement nous parlons et écrivons, d’une
assez piteuse façon, il est vrai, la langue de Bossuet et de Racine. Nous avons
beau dire et beau faire, nous ne serons toujours, au point de vue littéraire,
qu’une simple colonie; et quand bien même le Canada deviendrait un pays
indépendant et ferait briller son drapeau au soleil des nations, nous n’en
demeurerions pas moins de simples colons littéraires.3
La littérature canadienne naissante est alors désignée comme une

littérature de colonie. Bien que le Canada soit alors, ne l’oublions pas,
une colonie anglaise, les seules références qui sont faites par Crémazie le
sont à la littérature française et, plus loin dans le texte, à la littérature
américaine et à Fenimore Cooper. Le premier modèle reste français, ‘la
langue de Racine et de Bossuet’ et l’auto-dépréciation dont témoigne ce
texte est un indice explicite d’un complexe d’infériorité entretenu envers
la mère-patrie, qu’il vaudrait mieux écrire l’amère-patrie. Le projet de
littérature autarcique auquel semble adhérer Crémazie à la fin de sa let-
tre n’est qu’un pis-aller, une sorte de résignation a posteriori. On remar-
quera toutefois que le terme de ‘colonie’ est employé par Crémazie dans
un sens purement littéraire et institutionnel, puisque politiquement le
Canada n’est plus rattaché à la France. Alors lui-même exilé à Paris, le
libraire-éditeur de Québec décrit la situation des écrivains canadiens
comme celle d’exilés de la France, à la fois par la langue et par les
moyens de diffusion. L’expression littérature de colonie qu’il emploie
ne peut s’entendre au sens strict. Il s’agit plutôt d’une littérature
périphérique, dont le canon (les modèles) sont élaborés ailleurs, donc
Post ou péricolonialisme: l’ étrange modèle québécois (notes) 435

4. Albert Memmi, ‘Les une littérature qu’il serait plus juste de désigner comme déterritorialisée
Canadiens français ou encore péricolonialiste.
sont-ils des colonisés?’
, entretien accordé à Un siècle plus tard, de 1963 à 1968, les écrivains regroupés autour de
Montréal en 1967, la revue Parti pris font de nouveau appel à la notion de colonisation pour
repris dans L’homme décrire leur situation. Reprenant les analyses de Memmi et de Fanon, ces
dominé, Gallimard,
198, pp. 86–94. écrivains se disent colonisés culturellement, politiquement et économique-
ment par la présence anglo-saxonne. Un numéro spécial, dirigé par Pierre
5. Albert Memmi,
Portrait du colonisé Maheu, dresse le ‘portrait du colonisé québécois’. Mais ce sont là, selon
(1966), Montréal, Jacques Berque, ‘d’étranges colonisés’. Albert Memmi constatera de son
L’Étincelle, 1972, côté que les Québécois partagent certains traits avec les colonisés mais
p. 124.
préfère employer le mot ‘dominé’ plutôt que ‘colonisé’. Le Québec, malgré
6. Jacques Godbout, son niveau de vie élevé, est selon lui doublement dépendant, à la fois à l’in-
‘Le chevalier errant’,
Actualité, 15.19, térieur même de l’ensemble canadien et, globalement, vis-à-vis des USA.
1990, p. 100. ‘En un sens, tout le Canada est virtuellement déjà une colonie des USA:
7. Voir à ce sujet, seulement, si les Canadiens anglais sont quais consentants, les Canadiens
notamment, français s’y refusent’, constate-t-il. Il faut donc chercher les composantes
Ashcroft, Griffiths et de la dépendance québécoise, car toute domination est ‘relative’ et ‘spéci-
Tiffin, auteurs de The
Empire Writes Back, fique’. 4 Quoi qu’il en soit des nuances à apporter à leur diagnostic, les par-
Theory And Practice In tipristes s’engagent dans une entreprise de décolonisation qui les mène à
Post-colonial faire table rase d’un certain passé et à revoir les valeurs-refuges qui ont
Literatures, Routledge,
London-New York, longtemps servi d’affirmation culturelle. L’association langue et religion,
1989. fondements de l’idéologie de la survivance, sont alors contestées, mais
aussi bien l’idéologie de rattrapage dans laquelle le Québec s’est engagé
et une certaine forme d’élitisme fondée sur le mythe des compétences
individuelles. Le mouvement suit les phases de la décolonisation identifiées
par Memmi, qui consistent à s’accepter et se vouloir comme négativité
d’abord, puis, dans un deuxième temps, à non seulement accepter ses rides
et ses plaies, mais ‘à les proclamer belles’. D’où la revendication du joual –
cette langue ‘punie’ parlée par le prolétariat montréalais - à la fois comme
provocation et protestation. ‘Du coup, exactement à l’inverse de l’accusa-
tion colonialiste, le colonisé, sa culture, son pays, tout ce qui lui appar-
tient, tout ce qui le représente, deviennent parfaite positivité.’5 Qu’on se
rappelle les Notes sur le non-poème et le poème de Gaston Miron, les
Cantouques de Gérald Godin ou le Cassé de Jacques Renaud, qui transfor-
ment le chant de la dépossession en véritables blues lyriques.
Est-ce à dire que cette entreprise de décolonisation est terminée? Que
‘la bataille de décolonisation de la littérature québécoise a été gagnée
depuis 20 ans’, comme l’affirme Jacques Godbout6? Dans la mesure où
l’on ne pourrait parler de colonialisme proprement dit, on ne peut davan-
tage parler de postcolonialisme. Cependant, l’on remarque dans l’ensemble
de la littérature québécoise récente, des stratégies qui s’apparentent à
celles relevées dans les littératures postcoloniales.7 Que l’on songe à la nor-
malisation de la langue populaire québécoise chez Michel Tremblay, aux
jeux de langage de Réjean Ducharme, aux propositions multilingues de
Jacques Poulin ou à la mise à l’écart de la norme chez Francine Noël. Dans
chacun des cas il s’agit de prises de position et d’expériences langagières
assurant l’autonomie de la littérature québécoise par rapport à une cer-
taine norme externe. Mais ces stratégies sont moins des stratégies de résis-
tance et de contestation par rapport à l’institution littéraire française que
des stratégies de recentrement et de création de nouveaux canons littéraires.
436 Lise Gauvin

À ce titre, il me paraît hautement signifiant qu’un manifeste récent sur la 8. Marco Micone, Speak
langue, Speak what, de l’auteur d’origine italienne Marco Micone, reprenne What, suivi d’une
analyse de L. Gauvin
un texte classique de la décolonisation, Speak White, de Michèle Lalonde.8 ‘Un nouveau discours
Il ne s’agit plus de se situer par rapport à des modèles extérieurs mais par sur la langue’,
rapport aux modèles internes de la littérature québécoise. Vlb éditeur, 2001.
La littérature québécoise affiche donc les signes d’une décolonisation 9. Rowland Smith,
réussie. Mais ne nous y trompons pas. Comme on ne pouvait parler de véri- Postcolonizing the
Commonwealth, cité
table colonisation, ni par la France, ni par l’anglophonie un siècle plus par Marie Vautier,
tard, il est difficile d’adopter le modèle postcolonialiste pour décrire son ‘Les pays du nouveau
fonctionnement actuel. Politiquement, la question reste toujours en monde et le
catholicisme
suspens. Culturellement, malgré l’autonomie évidente dont bénéficie québécois’, Québec
actuellement la littérature québécoise d’un point de vue institutionnel, il Studies, numéro cité
faut toutefois avouer qu’elle dépend toujours, dans une certaine mesure, p. 15.
des réseaux de légitimation et de consécration français pour sa présence 10. Jean-Marc Moura,
dans l’ensemble de la francophonie. Par ailleurs, et Glissant a parfaitement Exotisme et lettres
francophones, ouv.
raison de le dire, la colonisation se fait de nos jours de façon beaucoup plus cité, p. 197.
subtile, ou plus efficace, que par les moyens étatiques: on saura de façon
plus précise dans quelques années la part qui revient, sur ce point, aux
multinationales. Aussi me semble-t-il que terme le plus adéquat pour
décrire l’étrange modèle québécois, sa complexité et son originalité, est
celui de péricolonialisme, car on indique par là que cette littérature reste
périphérique dans l’ensemble de la francophonie, mais aussi par rapport à
l’axe colonialiste ou postcolonialiste, comme à toute pensée dualiste qui
ferait l’économie des nombreux réseaux d’appartenances et d’influences
qui la traversent et en font la spécificité. Ce concept rejoint ce que Rownald
Smith appelle le ‘side-by-sidedness’ Alors que ‘the classic postscolonialist
theory posits an apposition between the center and the margin, between
those with accumulated power and those without, between the seltler
and the indigene, between the colonist and the colonial official … this inve-
stigation of new kinds of side-by-sidedness […] leads to the possibility of
sharing cultural experience rater than ‘resisting’ the imposition of alien
forms of culture.’9 Au modèle des contre–discours qui caractérise les lit-
tératures postscoloniales se superpose un discours de complicité /résistance
(Slomon) ou si l’on préfère un discours de déplacement, comme s’il s’agissait
de faire un pas de côté, juste à côté et de tracer de nouvelles trajectoires. On
peut représenter ce nouveau modèle sous forme de cercles disjoints et jusqu’à
un certain point indépendants les uns des autres tout en étant reliés par des
points d’intersection et de croisements.
Cependant, si l’on considère les études postscoloniales, telles que les a
définies récemment Jean-Marc Moura, comme « l’attention à la dimension
pragmatique de la littérature: l’intérêt pour le processus d’énonciation,
pour les données situationnelles qui composent l’univers de discours des
œuvres10 », on ne saurait nier leur pertinence pour l’étude de la littérature
québécoise, comme d’ailleurs pour l’ensemble des littératures d’expression
française. Une certaine critique littéraire a eu trop tendance, par le passé,
à considérer les œuvres par référence à une World Literature mystifiante
et mystifiée. La question qui se pose est alors celle-ci: a-t-on vraiment
besoin du postcolonialisme pour s’engager dans l’analyse pragmatique des
textes? La pragmatique est une notion beaucoup plus vaste, et tout aussi
efficace théoriquement, selon moi, que le postcolonialisme. Ses connivences
Post ou péricolonialisme: l’ étrange modèle québécois (notes) 437

11. L. Gauvin, ‘La littéra- avec la théorie postcoloniale, qui méritent à juste titre d’être soulignés, n’en
ture québécoise: une précisent que mieux la portée.
littérature de l’intran-
quillité’, Paris, Pour revenir au mot ‘péricolonialisme’, je crois qu’il rend compte du
Le Français dans le fait que jamais au sens propre la littérature québécoise n’a été une littéra-
monde, janvier 2006, ture coloniale, qu’elle a su côtoyer d’autres littératures sans se laisser
‘La francophonie en
marche’, no 343, assimiler par elles et créer ainsi une littérature-laboratoire dont les points
janv-fév. 2006, pp. d’intersection avec d’autres contextes sont nombreux mais qui n’a rien à
30–31.; Le Devoir, envier aux ensembles culturels institutionnellement mieux établis. D’où
26 avril 2006,
page ‘Idées’. l’étrange modèle québécois, un modèle voué à l’intranquillité créatrice.11
Suggested citation
Gauvin, L. (2007), ‘Post ou péricolonialisme: l’ étrange modèle québécois
(notes)’, International Journal of Francophone Studies 10: 3, pp. 433–438,
doi: 10.1386/ ijfs.10.3.433/7
Contributor details
Lise Gauvin (born in Quebec), Professor at the Université de Montréal, is a writer,
literary critic and essayist. She was head of the Département d’Études françaises
(1999 à 2003). She has edited the review Études françaises (1994 to 2000). She
has published widely on the Quebec and francophone literatures including the
books, Parti pris littéraire (PUM, 1975), Écrivains contemporains du Québec (with
Gaston Miron, Seghers/l’hexagone/Typo, 1989/1998), L’écrivain francophone à la
croisée des langues (Karthala, 1997/2006, prix France-Québec), Langagement.
L’écrivain et la langue au Québec (Boréal, 2000), Littératures mineures en langue
majeure: Québec/Wallonie-Bruxelles (PIE-Peter Lang/ PUM, 2003). As an essayist
and novelist she has published Chez Riopelle. Visites d’atelier (L’Hexagone, 2002) et
Arrêts sur images, nouvelles (L’Instant même, 2003) et Un automne à Paris,
Montréal, Leméac, 2005. In 2004, her book La fabrique de la langue. De François
Rabelais à Réjean Ducharme (Seuil, ‘Points-essais’) was awarded the Mention
Spéciale du Jury of the Grand Prix de la critique 2004 (PEN français). Her Lettres
d’une autre ou ‘comment peut-on être québécois(s)’ (L’Hexagone/ Le Castor
Astral 1984, Typo 1987) have now been reprinted in a sixth edition. Contact:
Département des littératures de langue française, Université de Montréal, C.P.6128,
Succ., entre–ville, Montréal H3C 3J7, Canada.
E–mail: lise.gauvin@umontreal.ca
438 Lise Gauvin

IJFS_10.3_11_rev.qxd 11/6/07 4:11 PM Page 439
Book Reviews
Book Reviews. English Language. doi: 10.1386/ijfs.10.3.439/5
Shifting Frontiers of France and Francophonie,

Yvette Rocheron and C. Rolfe (eds) (2004)
Oxford: Peter Lang, 347 pp.,
ISBN 3-906768-31-7 (pbk), €57.10 £40.00
Reviewed by Kamila Aitsiselmi (University of Bradford)
Cet ouvrage est le produit de la publication d’une sélection d’articles en

anglais et en français, présentés à l’université de Leicester en septembre
2000 lors d’une conférence organisée par l’ASMCF (the Association for
the Study of Modern and Contemporary France). Il est divisé en trois
parties, chacune d’elles comprenant respectivement 5, 8 et 6 chapitres.
La première partie traite de la perception des questions d’identité, de
pouvoir et de statut national dans divers pays francophones, ainsi que de
leur volonté d’élargir leurs horizons et de s’ouvrir au monde d’aujourd’hui,
en s’appuyant sur un projet social global comprenant une synthèse d’élé-
ments de sources identitaires différentes. Ces questions sont introduites par
J. Létourneau qui nous parle de l’avenir de la ‘petite’ collectivité québécoise
en se basant sur un ‘affirmationnisme pragmatique’ et non sur un ‘nation-
alisme défensif ’.
Dans les DOM, nous explique M. Majumdar, la résurgence d’une con-
science noire a engendré un désir de ‘réaffirmation’ de la composition
culturelle multiraciale de la société martiniquaise, où l’héritage français
serait incorporé dans un contexte plus large d’échanges multirégionaux.
M.Benrabah, dans son chapitre sur la situation linguistique complexe de
l’Algérie, nous rappelle le long parcours des Algériens dans leur quête d’une
identité stable mais qui reste encore délicate; et récemment, la volonté
politique ‘osée’ du président Bouteflika à reconnaître la réalité d’une com-
posante francophone au sein d’une société algérienne qui, bien que marquée
par un processus d’arabisation épineux, reste ouverte sur le monde.
De même, au Maroc où l’impact de la culture française a été moins pro-
fond qu’en Algérie, D. Marley nous explique comment le Français s’est
maintenu et connaît même un regain de popularité après un processus
d’arabisation accéléré. La nouvelle Charte reconnaît aujourd’hui la possi-
bilité de fonctionner dans plus d’une langue, car une ‘identité solitaire’
risquerait d’isoler la société marocaine du monde occidental moderne.
Prise entre une identité socioculturelle volatile et le monde anglo-saxon, la
Roumanie essaie de trouver un équilibre vis-à-vis d’un monde globalisé. Avec
la renaissance du français et le soutien européen, la Roumanie, devenue une
alliance économique de l’Est, a accès au monde moderne par la France en
tant que membre récent à part entière de la Francophonie. Ce dernier
chapitre par G. Bowd clôt cette première partie qui traite de mutations

politiques et culturelles auxquelles sont confrontés divers pays francophones

devenus conscients de la mouvance des ‘frontières’.
Dans la deuxième partie l’accent est mis sur les relations conflictuelles
entre différentes communautés dans la France d’après-guerre et sur la
remise en question des frontières intercommunautaires. Dans le chapitre
qui commence cette partie, J. Oswald nous apprend qu’une vision précoce
et lucide du monde futur a mené Camus à conceptualiser la construction
d’une Europe nouvelle sur des bases de liberté, d’égalité et d’échanges
internationaux. Une grande idée restée sans écho dans une Europe dévastée
par les guerres où aucun pays n’était prêt à dépasser ses frontières.
Dans les autres chapitres, les auteurs se sont penchés sur les problèmes
d’intégration des immigrés et ceux liés au racisme. C’est ainsi que
R. Aissaoui s’est intéressé en particulier au Mouvement des Travailleurs
Arabes pendant les années 70 en France, dans un effort d’établir un front
de solidarité multi-ethnique entre les Français et les immigrés pour lutter
contre la discrimination raciale.
L’analyse du football français par G. Hare montre que celui-ci a permis de
redorer le blason des Français et, par la même occasion, leur faire prendre
conscience de la diversité sociale de la population ainsi que des nouvelles
valeurs d’intégration des immigrés, dont la plupart sont nés en France. Ceci
est d’autant plus crucial que la culture nationale et identitaire est confrontée
à l’intégration européenne, et à la mondialisation, par lesquelles les fron-
tières économiques ont dépassé l’espace hexagonal. Dans cet ordre d’idée,
H. Naughton prend pour exemple la fusion d’entreprises nationales française
pour illustrer les conséquences des pressions nationales et internationales.
Par ailleurs, les problèmes sociaux des minorités ethniques en France
ont donné naissance à une variété linguistique riche, ‘la tchatche’, qui
marque essentiellement la solidarité, ainsi qu’une identité nouvelle com-
mune aux jeunes de banlieue, au-delà des origines ethniques. En se basant
sur l’analyse des aspects lexicaux de cette langue, J. Helcké relève ‘l’objec-
tification’ des femmes dans le discours masculin.
Le domaine où la question de l’exclusion se pose de façon cruciale est
celui de l’éducation. Le système de Jules Ferry renforce-t-il ou affaiblit-il les
frontières de l’exclusion? Dans son chapitre C. Humberstone analyse le
mouvement des frontières sociales et culturelles qui est devenu de plus en
plus impérieux depuis les années 70 à cause de l’origine culturelle des
immigrants. La question posée est de savoir si l’approche ZEP répond aux
besoins d’intégration actuels des communautés ethniques, et si elle peut
être identifiée avec les approches multiculturelles que suivent d’autres
pays européens.
Pour K. Chadwick, le dilemme entre cohésion nationale et population
multiculturelle est posé de façon très critique au niveau des religions de
France. D’un côté, il y a un effort de rencontre et de dialogue entre dif-
férentes communautés religieuses, mais de l’autre, la laïcité est vue comme
un facteur enrichissant de la vie moderne française. Et la République se
sent agressée par les signes religieux ostentatoires.
Quant à G. Varro, l’analyse qu’elle fait sur les identités en contact mon-
tre que l’entrechoc est causé par un certain degré de différence surtout
quand celle-ci est entretenue. Elle aboutit au fait que dans le nouvel ordre
440 Book Reviews

mondial, des termes comme ‘dominance’ ou ‘minorité’ qui ont encore un

sens assez fort dans certains contextes doivent être redéfinis.
Dans la troisième partie, les auteurs se sont essentiellement intéressés à
l’interprétation des idées ayant trait aux identités multiples qui carac-
térisent des écrivains francophones. Tout d’abord, R. Chapman examine la
culture de référence du Québécois, ‘l’enfant abandonné’, et nous la présente
comme étant la culture dominante de la ‘mère patrie’ dont la visite reste un
rite de passage mais qui finit par être dépassé par une inévitable maturité
qui mène à la libération.
Ensuite, dans le roman africain, P. Corcoran nous explique que les lignes
de démarcation des frontières ne sont plus géographiques, nationales, mais
sont plutôt liées à une appartenance culturelle selon le niveau de percep-
tion de chaque individu. Ces nouvelles frontières montrent que politique et
culture sont étroitement liées et que la position de l’auteur n’est ni radicale-
ment anti-occidentale ni entièrement pro-africaine car la vérité ne peut être
trouvée dans les limites d’un seul système.
Le thème du voyage et de l’exil sans frontières de l’intellectuel est
abordé dans les chapitres suivants où la marginalité de l’intellectuel, qui
est présentée comme étant l’essence même du rôle de l’intellectuel engagé,
le mène au-delà des idées reçues et le met dans une position difficile. Sa
quête de la vérité se trouve justifiée dans un monde où existent encore
l’injustice, l’intolérance et l’oppression.
H. Garnett s’est penchée sur la contribution à la littérature d’expression
française d’auteurs comme Kundera, Makine, et Julian. D’un côté, elle est
saluée du fait de la menace toujours présente et grandissante de l’anglais,
mais de l’autre elle apparaît comme étant elle-même une menace car elle
remet en question la ‘pureté’ du français soumis à des influences étrangères.
Il apparaît aussi que leurs écrits sont intéressants grâce justement au
dépassement des limites imposées par l’Académie française. Leur marginal-
ité est exprimée par le fait qu’ils sont les représentants d’une ‘écriture sans
frontières’, se trouvant eux-mêmes entre deux cultures.
Ce thème des frontières est élargi dans les deux derniers chapitres au
domaine de l’art. Dans l’un, une esthétique nouvelle, plus réaliste est
élaborée par A. Miller pour faire l’analyse du personnage central de la
bande dessinée, l’aventurier, dans un contexte post-colonial. A travers lui,
l’auteur veut exprimer une volonté de dépasser le discours colonial et de
rompre avec les silences qui entourent par exemple la situation qui prévaut
au Tibet, ou celle de la Chine.
Dans l’autre, N. Fayard nous parle de la vision constamment renou-
velée de Lavaudant sur le théâtre de Shakespeare. L’auteur nous montre
comment il ignore l’enseignement classique que l’on peut en tirer pour se
concentrer sur une esthétique hétérogène et diverse, dépassant ainsi les
frontières entre les genres, les époques et les cultures, afin de faire ressortir
la complexité et la diversité du monde d’aujourd’hui.
Par son caractère multidimensionnel et pluridisciplinaire, ce livre est
intéressant à plus d’un titre car il s’adresse à un vaste public, aussi bien
aux chercheurs ayant un intérêt dans les études francophones qu’à ceux
qui travaillent sur les problèmes d’identité et d’intégration autour du
concept de ‘frontière’ pris au sens large du terme.
Book Reviews 441

Frantz Fanon: A Portrait, Alice Cherki (2006)

Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 255 pp.,
ISBN 978-0-8014-7308-1 (pbk), $24.95
Reviewed by Charlotte Baker (NottinghamUniversity)
Of the many critical works on Fanon, Alice Cherki’s Frantz Fanon: A

Portrait is notable for its personal approach. Translated from the French by
Nadia Benabid, this powerful yet sympathetic biography written by Cherki,
a student, friend and colleague of Fanon, gives great insight into the life of
this very private, but influential intellectual. Clearly written and accessible,
this biographical study will be of equal interest to those readers familiar
with Fanon and his work, and to those reading about him for the first
time. Summaries at the beginning of each chapter are valuable for those
requiring an overview, or wishing to search for more specific information.
Frantz Fanon: A Portrait follows Fanon’s life from his birth in Fort-de-
France, Martinique in 1925, through to his death in 1961. Cherki
describes Fanon’s childhood in Martinique and his first encounter with
North Africa as a serviceman when he took part in the liberation of
France. He was later to return to France to pursue his education, studying
psychiatry in Lyon and publishing his first book, Peau noire, masques blancs
before being posted to Algeria as Chief Resident Physician at the psychiatric
hospital in Blida-Joinville.
The confluence of Fanon and Cherki’s political and medical work
brought them together from the moment Fanon arrived in Algeria until his
death. Most importantly, Cherki had the opportunity of working closely
with Fanon from 1955 to 1961, during the critical years that bracketed his
involvement with the struggle for Algeria’s independence. In her portrait,
Cherki explores the different influences on Fanon which made him the indi-
vidual and the thinker he was, tracing Fanon’s life as a psychiatrist, thinker
and militant. However, she notes, it would be reductive to construe Fanon
as any one thing – psychiatrist, militant, writer, Antillean, Algerian – for
his life was a journey that, with every passing year, moved him closer to an
understanding of his relationship to others and to the world.
Fanon died of leukaemia at the age of just thirty-six. Cherki comments,
‘To imagine the country, the context, the circumstance, and the personal
life that would have been Fanon’s had he lived is to indulge in pure specu-
lation’. However, she does comment in the final chapter of the study,
‘Fanon Today’, that there would be two certainties. The first would be that
Fanon would have resumed his psychiatric work because he valued his
relationship to the mentally ill and he was driven to alleviate their alienation.
Secondly, he would have continued to write and to ask questions.
After Fanon’s death, he and his work were relegated to a difficult past
as Algeria attempted to forget and France tried to repress its colonial past.
Although in the early seventies Fanon’s work became the subject of a wave
of biographies and critical essays, by the mid-seventies, despite continued
sales of his works, Fanon had fallen into oblivion. However, Cherki notes
that interest in Fanon’s work today is once again high, particularly in
Africa, black America and the Antilles. At a time when Fanon’s study of
442 Book Reviews

colonialism, alienation, racism and anticolonial revolt is taking on new

meaning, Cherki’s portrait provides a valuable overview of Fanon’s life and
the evolution of his thought.
Francophone Women Film Directors, Janis L. Pallister and

Ruth A. Hottell (2005)
Madison: Farleigh Dickinson University Press, 292 pp,
ISBN 0-8386-4046-X (hbk), £40.50
Reviewed by Martine Beugnet (Reader, University of Edinburgh)
Pallister and Hottell’s guide to Francophone Women Film Directors is divided

into two sections: part one is a directory composed of entries on French-
speaking women directors grouped by countries or broad regions of the
world. The second part gives prominence to film titles, organized by concepts
and themes.
The publication of this book raises one initial issue: Francophone Women
Film Directors is meant as a follow-up to Pallister’s French-Speaking Women
Film Directors, published in 1997. The foreword to the present book under-
lines that is best ‘consulted in tandem with the 1997 guide’, and the
authors acknowledge that ‘by and large, only such filmmakers, films and
critiques as did not figure in that volume’ have been included in the 2005
guide. Aside from the better established professionals and their work, how-
ever, there is little way of finding out which directors and films are not listed
here but might appear in the original guide. Then again, a prominent director
like the avant-garde film-maker Germaine Dulac for example, is only
mentioned in connection with some of her less known works; to find out
about her more renowned features, readers are referred to the 1997 book.
One may thus wonder why the present guide is not introduced (on the
cover preferably) as Volume 2 of an ongoing work of referencing, or, better,
why the first volume was not used as a base and updated? But Pallister and
Hottell’s directory presents other problems, both in terms of the work of
classification and as far as the quality and range of the information collated
is concerned.
A great deal of arbitrariness and inconsistency appears to prevail over
the choice and content of the book’s sorting categories. This may arguably
be justified on account of modish postmodern resistance to the limitations
of strict and consistent labelling, but is most likely to be felt as patently
unprofessional or simply irritating. Apart from the topical quotes discreetly
placed opposite the table of content, there is little attempt at establishing the
reasoning behind the book’s very premise (francophone/women/filmmakers)
and the way the directors and their films are further classified. It may be
that this was done in the 1997 volume, but in the face of the complexity of
the continuing debate about the legitimacy of the term ‘woman director’ for
instance, the main argument presented by the authors – that ‘one cannot
deny that a number of the women filmmakers of France, Quebec and Belgium
have become virtually as well known as many male directors’ (emphasis mine)
seems rather inadequate’. Notwithstanding the fact that many women
Book Reviews 443

directors are indeed famous (that is, more so than many male directors),
the issue of the legitimacy of the gendered categories dismissed by so many
of the women directors themselves is hardly addressed, the authors being
content with underlining that most directors tell their story from a
woman’s point of view, without problematizing or questioning the terminology.
The same imprecision, which also applies to the use of ‘French speaking’
or ‘francophone’, becomes particularly puzzling where the geographic
classification is concerned. How to explain, for instance, that under
Canada, separate entries are granted to Acadia, British Columbia and
Quebec, while the directors of the entire African continent, whether from
sub-Saharan regions or from the Maghreb, are grouped together under the
single denomination ‘Africa’? The declared focus on fiction film-making
creates another inconsistency: according to the foreword, a guide to docu-
mentary films is available, yet documentaries are occasionally discussed
and even flagged through illustrations (see for instance the discussion and
poster of Marie Mandy’s Filmer le désir, 2000, pp. 41–42).
Part 2 of the book offers a limited yet eclectic range of thematic cate-
gories whose choice, mix and content appear equally perplexing. Ranging
from ‘Eating Disorders’ to ‘(African) Economy’ to ‘Film History – Pioneer
Francophone Directors’, these sections occasionally include screen writers,
actresses and producers, as well as film titles by men and from non-French-
speaking directors, men and women. Films by men are generally grouped
separately, save, confusingly, for a number of features by English-speaking
male directors (see for instance the entry for What’s Eating Gilbert Grape
p. 226 or Becoming Colette p. 229), which appear in amongst the titles of
women’s works. Films by non-francophone women on the other hand, are
simply listed alongside those by French-speaking directors. While there is no
denying the potential usefulness of introducing a greater variety for compar-
ative studies’ purposes, here, the selection of entries too often gives an
impression of randomness. One may thus wonder about the scarcity of
examples listed in some of the sections and indeed, the non-appearance of
films one would expect to read about: why add, for example, a section on
‘Guilt’, if only to list a single, man-authored feature (and indeed, is ‘guilt’
what best defines Karim Dridi’s Bye bye?)? The remarkably sparse section on
‘Children’ (two entries – four with the ‘Battered Children’ section) is another
case in point: Y aura-t-il de la neige à Noël?, Sandrine Veysset’s small budget
but widely distributed and award-winning film on childhood and mater-
nal love is not mentioned here, while surprisingly, Iranian director
Makhmalbaf ’s docu-drama about two little girls, The Apple, heads the section
on ‘Battered Women’.
The actual content of individual entries also raises questions. While
the book cover advertises the entries as composed of ‘short critical
analyses by Professors Pallister and Hottell’, in the foreword, the authors
insist that they have, on the contrary, refrained from giving their views in
a work not ‘intended to be a critique of films by women’. In fact, while
individual entries consist primarily of extracts from basic Internet data
bases such as imdb and from festival programme notes (elements of
biographies and synopsis), the bibliography proper remains highly ellip-
tical. Notwithstanding the fact that this is precisely the kind of informa-
tion one may find easily without a guide, and that such data cannot be
444 Book Reviews

substituted for more comprehensive critical approaches published in

journals online or in print, in these times when the Internet is still in its
infancy and web pages remain unstable events prone to disappearing
without warning, few would actually attempt to type out the extended
addresses provided in this directory, rather than ‘google’ the name of
the film or director and do their own search. In other words, for most of
the information provided to be readily usable, the guide to Francophone
Women Film Directors should be published online. Still, the directory does
have the merit of listing a number of directors whose work has not
received the exposure it deserves, and as such, in combination with some
of part 2 entries, might suggest some areas of research, teaching and
comparative study.
Dark Side of the Light: Slavery and the French Enlightenment,

Louis Sala-Molins, Translated and with an Introduction by
John Conteh-Morgan (2006)
Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, xxxvi + 176 pp.,
ISBN 0-8166-4389-X, (pbk), $19.50
Reviewed by James Campbell (University of Portsmouth)
On 10 May 2001, the French Parliament approved a law recognizing slav-

ery as a crime against humanity. Five years later, on the same date, France
held its first national day of remembrance for the victims of slavery and
the slave trade. In a speech to mark the occasion, President Jacques Chirac
declared that recognizing France’s role in slavery in the past was ‘key to
national cohesion’ in the present. Within this context, the publication for
the first time in English of Louis Sala-Molins’ Dark Side of the Light is partic-
ularly timely. Originally published in 1992 as Les Misères des Lumières: Sous
la raison, l’outrage, in three eloquent chapters, Sala-Molins demonstrates
the complicity in African slavery of the French Enlightenment and
Revolution and argues that recognition of this complicity has been strik-
ingly absent from France’s popular historical memory.
For Sala-Molins, slavery was ‘the crucial test case for the Enlightenment’
(p. 8) and it was a test that in important respects the Enlightenment failed.
When Condorcet, Voltaire and Montesquieu wrote of liberty and equality,
they did not fully encompass the African slave within their supposedly uni-
versalist rhetoric and nor did they unconditionally denounce slavery in the
French colonies. On the contrary, in his Réflexions, Condorcet advocated
only a phased and gradual process of emancipation in order to protect the
property interests of the slaveholding class and to ensure minimal distur-
bance to the public order.
A similarly ambivalent attitude towards slavery was evident in the
Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen. Not unlike the United
States Constitution, which, though replete with the language of liberty and
equality, supported a slave regime, the French Declaration did not explicitly
refer to slavery by name. Yet, through this silence the Declaration implicitly
endorsed the existing slave regimes in the French colonies. Specifically, the
Declaration did nothing to undermine the Code noir, which was the legal
Book Reviews 445

basis of slavery in the francophone world and which denied to slaves the
very rights that the Declaration bestowed on French citizens.
Having explored these key Enlightenment and Revolutionary texts,
Sala-Molins turns his attention in his final, and most engaging, chapter, to
the slave uprising in Saint-Domingue and the way in which that event was
remembered in France during the bicentennial celebrations of 1989. The
French interpretation of Haiti’s birth, Sala-Molins argues, is francocentric
and ignores black historical agency. By portraying Toussaint L’Ouverture
as a product of the Enlightenment and the French Revolution, historians
have both overstated the extent to which Enlightenment ideology was
opposed to slavery and neglected the distinctive features of the African
slave experience that fuelled revolution in Saint-Domingue. According to
this interpretation, the Haitian Revolution was but one episode of the
French Revolution, yet in Sala-Molins’ analysis it must at the very least be
acknowledged that if the Enlightenment did inspire slaves such as
Toussaint L’Ouverture it did so only because they subverted its language
and ‘gave it a meaning it did not have’ (p. 124). This was a reality that
remained hidden in 1989 when, in the words of Sala-Molins’ final, damn-
ing indictment of the bicentennial celebrations, France presented the view
that without the Enlightenment, ‘the blacks were nothing; France made
them into human beings’ (p. 143). In so doing, the Republic ‘displayed its
arrogance, magnified its greatness…[and]…transformed its crimes into a
blaze of glory’ (p. 143).
There has been no shortage of studies of the relationship between slav-
ery and the European intellectual currents of the eighteenth century. Dark
Side of the Light is far from the most comprehensive, but what distinguishes
Sala-Molins’ work is his polemical style and explicitly political purpose,
characteristics that are especially evident in the extensive and at times
powerful passages in which he assumes the persona of an African slave.
John Conteh-Morgan’s translation succeeds in conveying Sala-Molins’
sense of moral conviction and the political significance of his work to the
English reader. Additionally, Conteh-Morgan’s excellent introduction pro-
vides an insightful critique of the text and locates the book in the context
of the 1989 bicentennial celebrations.
Médias et milieux francophones, Michel Beauchamp and

Thierry Watine (eds) (2006)
Québec: Les Presses de l’Université Laval, 300 pp.,
ISBN 2-7637-8363-5 (pbk), CAN $40
Reviewed by Caroline Caron (Concordia University)
Les multiples transformations contemporaines qui affectent les entreprises

de presse dans le contexte de globalisation des marchés et de l’économie
mondiale modifient en profondeur l’espace public. Quelles sont les implica-
tions pour les communautés et les médias francophones d’Amérique du
Nord, qui luttent pour leur survie linguistique et culturelle? Avec ses douze
chapitres répartis en quatre sections, cet ouvrage collectif aborde plusieurs
aspects de la question, grâce à un éclairage sur les nouveaux défis engendrés
446 Book Reviews

par les paramètres structurels et conjoncturels du nouvel environnement

médiatique global.
Contrairement à ce que son titre pourrait laisser entendre, ce livre
n’aborde que les réalités du terrain géographique circonscrit par les fron-
tières du Canada, ce qui, toutefois, n’enlève rien à sa pertinence scien-
tifique. En effet, l’ouvrage offre un portrait du champ médiatique
francophone canadien, enrichi de réflexions et d’analyses qui actualisent
les problématiques au cœur des courants du journalisme civique et du
journalisme de communication des années 1990. Ces analyses locales
prennent acte des transformations politiques, économiques, sociales et
technologiques auxquelles font face les entreprises de presse contempo-
raines. Comme ces pressions sont à la fois locales et mondiales, c’est la
presse francophone mondiale qui se trouve interpellée par les problèmes
exposés et analysés dans cette publication.
Les directeurs de l’ouvrage ont évité le piège de la surreprésentation du
cas québécois, grâce à une judicieuse sélection de textes traitant plusieurs
cas hors Québec, c’est-à-dire en milieu où le français est une langue
minoritaire. Le Manitoba, l’Ontario et l’Atlantique (surtout) bénéficient
d’une bonne couverture, mais il faut tout de même mentionner que cer-
tains territoires sont ignorés ou couverts avec moins de profondeur,
comme la Colombie-Britannique et la Saskatchewan, qui abritent, elles
aussi, des communautés et des médias francophones. Le portrait est donc
exhaustif, sans pouvoir être considéré complet.
Les directeurs de la publication ont privilégié trois axes d’analyse: 1) la
pratique du journalisme en milieu minoritaire francophone, 2) les défis
régionaux de Radio-Canada, et 3) le rôle des hebdomadaires régionaux et
des médias communautaires au sein des communautés francophones.
Beauchamp et Watine, tous deux professeurs au département d’informa-
tion et de communication de l’Université Laval, ont rédigé une introduc-
tion qui dresse un aperçu juste et concis du contenu de l’ouvrage, une
qualité que les lecteurs et lectrices sauront sans doute apprécier au
moment d’entamer leur lecture.
Dans la première partie, cinq chapitres abordent des aspects rattachés
au premier axe d’analyse, à savoir la pratique du journalisme en milieu
minoritaire francophone. Un premier texte décrit le portrait du nouveau
paysage médiatique acadien au Nouveau-Brunswick, qui met en scène des
acteurs dont les pouvoirs sont disproportionnés (Lord). Un second analyse
le rôle stratégique des médias dans la survivance du fait français au
Manitoba (Corriveau). Le troisième montre le rôle des sources institution-
nelles francophones dans la promotion et la défense de la communauté
franco-ontarienne (Fabris et Beauchamp). La quatrième contribution con-
siste en une étude de cas du traitement journalistique de la lutte menée
par les Franco-Ontariens, à la fin des années 1990, pour la survie de
l’Hôpital Montfort… une lutte sur fond de querelle linguistique. L’analyse
révèle les positions éditoriales contrastées – voire les abstentions – qu’ont
adoptées une vingtaine de journaux francophones (Lusignan). Enfin, le
cinquième chapitre met en lumière les particularités de la pratique jour-
nalistique en milieu francophone minoritaire, comme la proximité des
sources et ses implications éthiques et professionnelles dans le quotidien
des praticiens et des praticiennes de l’information (Bernier).
Book Reviews 447

La deuxième partie de l’ouvrage réunit trois chapitres autour des défis

régionaux de la société d’État Radio-Canada. C’est qu’en vertu de la Loi sur
la radiodiffusion (1968) et de la Loi sur les langues officielles (1969), le ser-
vice de radiodiffusion a l’obligation légale de diffuser, partout au pays, des
émissions en anglais et en français. Les textes réunis dans cette section
abordent donc le rôle de la société d’État auprès des communautés fran-
cophones du Canada, mais aussi ses limites et ses ratés. En effet, la
manière dont ce mandat est réalisé n’a pas livré les résultats escomptés, ce
qui est une source importante de frustration, souvent plus accrue chez les
francophones hors Québec. Par exemple, il a été régulièrement reproché à
Radio-Canada de ne pas accorder suffisamment d’importance à l’informa-
tion de proximité et d’imposer une vision trop montréalaise (ou québé-
coise), du fait français canadien. La section s’ouvre avec un chapitre qui
identifie les défis futurs de Radio-Canada grâce à une mise en perspective
du rôle qu’a joué la société d’État dans le développement des commu-
nautés francophones hors Québec depuis les années 1970 (Proulx). Le
second chapitre illustre les défis actuels de Radio-Canada en recourant au
contraste qu’offrent les succès de médias communautaires mis sur pied
afin de répondre aux besoins frustrés d’acteurs locaux (Boutin). Le dernier
chapitre limite son champ d’investigation à l’Acadie et au Nouveau-
Brunswick. Il porte sur les interrelations complexes entre Radio-Canada et
certains acteurs-clés du milieu culturel acadien, révélant comment les
intérêts divergents de ces acteurs placent la société d’État dans une posi-
tion de double contrainte (Pâquet).
La troisième partie du volume contient deux textes sur le rôle des heb-
domadaires régionaux et des médias communautaires dans un contexte
d’hyperconcurrence médiatique. Le premier révèle les stratégies à l’origine
du succès de ‘petits joueurs médiatiques’ québécois (Lavigne). Le deuxième
constitue une étude de cas portant sur un mensuel dont la production
était ambitieuse et coopérative, mais dont l’histoire n’aura pas duré un an.
Le mensuel À Cause? produit au Lac Saint-Jean (Province de Québec), met
en évidence les facteurs conjoncturels de nature politique dans la réussite
ou l’échec des initiatives médiatiques locales à vocation communautaire
(Proulx et Demers).
Enfin, la quatrième et dernière partie de l’ouvrage réunit deux textes
sous la catégorie ‘autres’. Elle permet de traiter d’aspects importants de la
problématique générale, que les chapitres précédents n’ont pas véritable-
ment couverts. Ainsi, le rôle des technologies d’information et de commu-
nication dans le développement des communautés francophones du
Canada est abordé dans un texte qui soutient que celles-ci offrent de nou-
velles options, tant du côté de la production que la diffusion, qui pour-
raient s’avérer efficace, au plan stratégique, pour les entreprises de presse
francophone hors Québec, dont les ressources financières sont limitées
(Forgues). Le dernier texte présente des données statistiques sur les pra-
tiques de consommation culturelle des Québécois et des Québécoises.
L’auteur propose de classifier les pratiques culturelles et médiatiques émer-
gentes de la population en deux catégories, les ‘classiques’ et ‘les nova-
teurs’, un fait sociologique dont les entreprises médiatiques ne sauraient
ignorer l’existence dans leurs stratégies de production, de diffusion et de
commercialisation (Garon).
448 Book Reviews

Les Nègres, Maurice Delafosse (2005 [originally

published 1927])
Paris: L’Harmattan, 77 pp.,
ISBN 2-7475-9375-4 (pbk), €12.20
Reviewed by Tony Chafer (University of Portsmouth)
During the nineteenth and early twentieth century, the widely held assump-
tion among French colonial policy-makers was that Africans did not have a
civilization of their own. This belief underlay and served to justify the French
colonial doctrine of the mission civilisatrice: if Africans had no civilization of
their own, then it was the responsibility, indeed the duty, of the colonizer to
‘civilize’ them by assimilating them to French culture. To be sure, this ambi-
tion was never a realistic one, not least because metropolitan governments,
and behind them the electorate, were not prepared to underwrite the cost of
such an ambitious programme. Yet the notion that Africans lacked a real
civilization of their own remained an enduring leitmotiv underpinning
French colonial thinking well into the twentieth century.
The importance of Delafosse was that he was a distinguished member of
an early generation of colonial administrator-scholars, which included
such figures as François Clozel and Paul Marty, who undertook research
that fundamentally challenged this perception. In 1912 he published a crit-
ically acclaimed three-volume study of the peoples of the Western Sudan,
Haut-Sénégal-Niger, in which he described in detail African societies and
institutions. On the basis of this research, he put forward the notion that
Africans had civilizations that differed from those of the West but that were
in no way inferior. He subsequently went on to publish Les Noirs de l’Afrique
(1921), L’Ame nègre (1923) and Les Civilisations négro-africaines (1925), all
of which challenge widely held stereotypes about African barbarism. The
present work Les Nègres, published in 1927, represents a synthesis of his
earlier work on black African societies, in which the author seeks to dis-
seminate to a wider, non-specialist public his ideas about African history. In
this he was successful in some unexpected ways: for example, his ideas were
to exert a significant influence on the perception of African civilizations of
writers belonging to the Négritude movement in inter-war Paris.
This reprint of Les Nègres is accompanied by a useful introduction by
Bernard Mouralis that usefully contextualizes it and explains its signifi-
cance for the modern reader. Of particular interest is Mouralis’ analysis of
the structure of the work. Mouralis points out that, before studying
African civilizations, Delafosse first needed to demonstrate to his reader
that the Western stereotype of Africans lacking a civilization of their own
was bred of ignorance. As an anthropologist he pleaded for a relativist
approach, in which the study of civilizations is based on the observation of
their actual customs and practices. There then follow chapters on ‘le col-
lectivisme des Nègres’, ‘la moralité des Nègres’ and ‘l’art nègre’, in which
he describes the complex functioning of African societies before conclud-
ing with a chapter on ‘La littérature nègre’. It is significant that Delafosse
chooses to conclude his work with a chapter on African writing, in which
he explicitly challenges the traditional focus in studies of African literature
on orature.
Book Reviews 449

The work itself had become extremely difficult to obtain and this
reprint by L’Harmattan is therefore most welcome.
Where Are the Voices Coming From? Canadian Culture and

the Legacies of History, Carol Ann Howells (ed.) (2004)
New York: Rodopi, 266 pp.,
ISBN 90-420-1623-X (hbk), €60 US$81
Reviewed by Patrick Coleman (University of California, Los Angeles)
This book offers a series of paired essays on French and English-language

Canadian literature and film. Within Canada, this format enjoyed a brief
popularity a few decades ago, until it fell victim to two sorts of critique.
One was political. For many québécois critics, the juxtaposition of fran-
cophone and anglophone works by critics such as Philip Stratford (All the
Polarities, 1986) seemed at best to create artificial parallels between litera-
tures with very different trajectories; at worst, it was an unacceptable
exercise in pan-Canadian nation-building at the expense of efforts to pro-
mote Quebec’s own ‘national’ literature. The other problem was one of
method. The works were often selected on the basis of thematic similarity,
and formal considerations were either neglected or defined in fairly
abstract terms designed to highlight contrast and complementarities.
Understandably so, since if one limits the comparisons to works from a sin-
gle country, even if they are in different languages, then one feels com-
pelled to justify one’s choices in terms either of a grounding in shared local
circumstances or in terms of a higher dialectical unity. The difficulty of
mounting an effective reply to these critiques has led, with a few remark-
able exceptions such as E.D. Blodgett’s Five-Part Invention (2003), to a
decline in attempts to set works in the two official languages in direct dia-
logue with each other.
With the advent of more sophisticated forms of cultural studies and
with the rise of a nuanced postcolonial consciousness, the time is certainly
ripe for a renewal of comparative studies, and it would be interesting to see
this emerging first in criticism written outside Canada. Regrettably, the
five contributors to this book (two teach in England, two in Scotland and
one in English Canada) do not seem to be aware of this history. Certainly
they do not reflect on the political complexities of organizing the book in
terms of parallel essays, even as the critical methods employed and refer-
enced, particularly in the section devoted to literature, are often strikingly
different. Coral Ann Howells’ essays on the anglophone writers invoke
Homi Bhabha and postcolonialism in their discussions of narrative forms,
but none of this critical background appears in Peter Noble’s more tradi-
tional discussions of the francophone writers. The chapters, each only ten
pages in length, are also too short to accommodate the plot summaries the
authors felt were necessary as well as sustained critical engagement. The
‘other voices’ of the title seem to be those of the characters in the stories
more than those of the writers. The juxtapositions themselves are poten-
tially very productive, however, and since even scholars in French and
English studies will often not be familiar with the texts in the other
450 Book Reviews

language, this section of the book is still worth perusing. It consists of four
chapters, ‘Stories of Wilderness and Settlement’ (on Alice Munro and
Gabrielle Roy), ‘History and its Secrets’ (Margaret Atwood and Anne
Hébert), ‘Maritime Gothic’ (Ann-Marie MacDonald and Antonine Maillet)
and ‘History and Dispossession: First Nations Writers’ (Bernard Assiniwi and
Tomson Highway).
The section on film is more successful, especially in those essays where
plot summary is replaced by extended discussion of the conditions and con-
straints of film production. Comparing the filmed version of novels with the
books also provides an economical way of approaching key aspects of the
interrelationship between theme and form. Tony Simons’ essay on Gilles
Carle’s Maria Chapdelaine (1983) and David Hutchison’s on Atom Egoyan’s
The Sweet Hereafter (1997) are particularly good, and like the other essays
in this section differ from those on literature in that they do not shy away
from evaluating the degree to which the works succeed (or fail) to live up to
their premises. Perhaps this is because they are less concerned with the tes-
timony of the fictional characters about their gendered or ethnic condition –
how could one quarrel with it? – than with the craft of the artist in a
medium one assumes to be compromised from the start.
Patrick Chamoiseau: Espaces d’une écriture antillaise,

Lorna Milne (2006)
Amsterdam/New York: Rodopi, 226 pp.,
ISBN 90-420-2021-0 (pbk), €46
Reviewed by Rachel Douglas (University of Liverpool)
As the first book-length work devoted entirely to Patrick Chamoiseau,

Lorna Milne’s Patrick Chamoiseau: Espaces d’une écriture antillaise offers a
valuable contribution to current scholarship on this much-studied author.
At once, it serves as an excellent introduction for those unfamiliar with
Chamoiseau, and offers a number of important new perspectives for more
experienced students and researchers of his work. Focusing in particular
on four of Chamoiseau’s best-known novels, Chronique des sept misères
(1986), Texaco (1992), L’Esclave vieil homme et le molosse (1997), Biblique
des derniers gestes (2002) and his essay Écrire en pays dominé (1997), an
impressive range of almost all his other writings is covered by Milne’s thor-
ough, well-researched analysis. This spans Chamoiseau’s earliest plays
and novels from the 1970s and 1980s, through his better-known novels,
to his recent collaborations with illustrators, photographers and film-makers,
as well as his autobiographical work. Milne is also able to chart important
developments in his theoretical discourse by highlighting the key impor-
tance of several little-known Chamoiseau texts in Internet form.
It is through the prism of different Antillean spaces figuring promi-
nently in most Chamoiseau texts that Milne proposes new readings of
the author’s work. Following an introductory overview of the important
role played by space and spatial appropriation in Chamoiseau, each
chapter calls attention to a particular Antillean space: the slave ship’s
hold (Chapter 2); the marketplace (Chapter 3); the Creole dwelling place
Book Reviews 451

(Chapter 4) and the woods (Chapter 5). Grouped in this clear and logical
way, beginning with the originary Caribbean space of the slave ship carry-
ing African slaves to the Caribbean, the chapters insist on the rich, complex
and specifically Antillean symbolism in Chamoiseau’s textual representa-
tions of each space.
Where Milne’s study is most innovative is in her demonstration of the
link between the initiating function of many of these spaces and
Chamoiseau’s strong preoccupation with the formation of a specifically
Antillean identity. In particular, she shows that the emblematic spaces rep-
resent one of Chamoiseau’s most abstract and complex notions: the Lieu.
According to Milne, ‘le Lieu représente une sorte de facteur commun
éventuel auquel tous les individus et toutes les cultures peuvent aspirer’
(p. 94). Many of the prominent Antillean spaces, Milne argues convinc-
ingly, actually perform the complex open, opaque and non-hierarchical
cultural relations, which are so characteristic of the Lieu. Like Édouard
Glissant, Chamoiseau contrasts the concepts of the Lieu and the Territoire:
for both writers, the Territoire is marked as the closed space of colonial
domination in direct contrast to the unenclosed openness of the Lieu. One
major strength of the book is that Milne is able to pinpoint where
Chamoiseau’s key guiding concepts subtly nuance many of the ideas of his
maître à penser Glissant. Milne establishes that several Chamoiseau
notions, such as Mise-en-relations and Pierre-monde, incorporate overlap-
ping currents in Glissant’s thought to do with Relation, Tout-Monde and
Chaos-Monde, and then use them slightly differently.
All of the emblematic Antillean spaces singled out by Milne are linked
not just to the formation of a shared Antillean cultural identity, but also to
the more individual identity of the writer. A highly original feature of
Patrick Chamoiseau: Espaces d’une écriture antillaise is the identification of a
marked evolution in Chamoiseau’s representations of writing figures.
Drawing on all parts of the author’s oeuvre, Milne is able to chart a pro-
gression from Chamoiseau’s more hesitant representations in his early
work of marqueurs de paroles (figures who are troubled by having to tran-
scribe spoken words tentatively through the relatively fixed medium of the
written word) to more self-assured figures who assume the role of the
writer most fully in his later work. In the last two chapters, Milne notes
that Chamoiseau sometimes recycles little bits of his own earlier work.
Towards the end of the book, there are fascinating analyses of what is added
and what is left out in the course of these small-scale but significant rewrit-
ings. The reworkings support Milne’s main conclusion that Chamoiseau’s
representations of writers and writing develop, while the changes made
also enact the new aesthetic of déplacement perpétuel, towards which, Milne
argues, Chamoiseau moves. Overall, this is an excellent book, which illu-
minates some of the most complex aspects of Chamoiseau’s literary and
theoretical writing, and which will be an important landmark for all
future research on this author.
452 Book Reviews

Reinterpreting the Haitian Revolution and its Cultural

Aftershocks, Martin Munro and Elizabeth Walcott-Hackshaw
(eds) (2006)
Jamaica/Barbados/Trinidad and Tobago: University of the
West Indies Press, 192 pp.,
ISBN 976-640-190-X (pbk), $30
Reviewed by Rachel Douglas (University of Liverpool)
Reinterpreting the Haitian Revolution and its Cultural Aftershocks is an out-

standing collection of essays based around the conference of the same
name, which was held in June 2004 at the University of the West Indies,
Trinidad. The broad range of the volume encompasses new approaches to
the Haitian Revolution’s key role in shaping the interrelated fields of
Haitian, Caribbean and world-wide history and politics, literature, art,
anthropology, jazz, ideas of race and also numerous post-independence
representations of Toussaint Louverture. What binds this truly diverse
material together is a concern to indicate the extent to which the cultural
repercussions of Haiti’s revolution are palpable across these fields.
Beyond this truly comparative approach of the collection as a whole, the
individual essays contribute much originality to a number of debates raging
in the fields of Haitian, Caribbean and postcolonial studies today. Many of
the contributors are among the most acclaimed scholars working in these
areas, most notably, J. Michael Dash, Mireille Rosello, Charles Forsdick and
Bridget Brereton, and their essays do not disappoint. Innovative interven-
tions are made by all the authors of this volume: J. Michael Dash argues
that the Haitian revolution was fought in the name of a universal ideal.
According to Dash, this ‘Haitian revolutionary universalism’ superseded
universal French values, and was therefore ‘both a foundational moment in
French universalist thought and a point of origin for postcolonial societies’
(p. 11). Martin Munro offers a new response to the critical commonplace of
talking about, after Glissant, the ‘historylessness’ of the Caribbean region in
terms of loss, emptiness and lack. In his radical rethinking of current
debates, Munro elaborates the idea of a different Haitian historical narra-
tive, one which takes into account the repercussions of the Haitian
Revolution on both the individual and collective imaginations.
A particularly refreshing take on the impact of the Haitian Revolution
on contemporary Haitian literature is evident in the essays by Elizabeth
Walcott-Hackshaw and Mireille Rosello. Their essays consider work by the
Haitian women writers Yanick Lahens and Edwidge Danticat, respectively,
and as such stand out from the bulk of criticism on Haitian literature, the
predominant focus of which unfortunately continues to be on literature
written by Haitian men. An indicator of this marked imbalance is the fact
that several recent international colloquia showcasing Haitian writers have
not included any of Haiti’s accomplished contemporary women writers.
Even more innovative in Walcott-Hackshaw and Rosello’s approaches is
their decision to redefine the revolutionary in Haitian culture along the
lines of a feminized narrative of Haitian history. This is less concerned with
the glorious rebellion leading up to 1804 than with the ‘revolutionary’ per-
sonal experiences, which are interspersed with reflections on various events
Book Reviews 453

in Haiti’s twentieth-century history, and which call for a radical rethinking

of Haiti’s past, present and future, and the process of telling history itself.
It is the immense cultural impact of the Revolution beyond Haiti which
forms the main subject of the articles by Keith Cartwright, Bridget Brereton
and Charles Forsdick. Cartwright explores the creolizing effect on the genesis
of New Orleans jazz of voodoo rhythms brought by St Domingue refugees. A
measure of the cultural aftershocks of the Revolution even in relatively distant
Trinidad is given in Brereton’s analysis of nineteenth-century articles and let-
ters in the Trinidadian press. ‘Haytian Fear’ narratives are, she shows, dis-
seminated widely in these texts in which Haiti acts both as a metaphor and a
source of propaganda for both sides of the slavery and abolition debates in
Trinidad. Finally, Forsdick deals with the most mythologized character of the
Haitian Revolution – Toussaint Louverture – of whom an immense variety of
representations exist. Forsdick compares posthumous representations of
Toussaint across a number of different twentieth-century concepts. Ending on
a most thought-provoking note, Forsdick makes the crucial point that, partic-
ularly given the impetus to cultural production of the 2004 bicentenary of
independence, the mythologizing of Toussaint will inevitably evolve.
Nine scholarly chapters are framed by two short essays by René
Depestre, one of Haiti’s foremost writers. Depestre’s contributions add to
the comparative bent of the whole collection because they juxtapose schol-
arly and artistic responses to the bicentennial celebrations. In his closing
piece, Depestre puts into practice another example of the ever-renewed
mythologization of the Toussaint figure: in a move which is decidedly pro-
French foreign policy, Depestre envisions Toussaint straddling France and
Haiti, and acting as a positive conduit between the two countries. As for
his opening piece, Depestre uses it to rubbish any theory of a worldwide
‘white plot’ against Haiti. He sees the reinstatement of Aristide in 1994 as
Haiti’s great missed opportunity for working with other countries through
the United Nations and the Organization of American States. A decade
later in 2004, Depestre argues that the only way out of circular Haitian
history is for all Haitians to stop thinking in racial terms, and to reach out
to other countries in a ‘Declaration of Interdependence’.
Of course, Depestre’s proposed solution to Haiti’s current dire situation
can be expressed most explicitly as his piece is the sole non-scholarly
reflection by a creative writer in this collection. Nevertheless, a sense of
pressing urgency underlies most of the scholarly interventions in this col-
lection too. Like Depestre, other contributors constantly refer to Haiti as if
it were stuck in an everlasting time warp of circular repetition. This image
(a very common one in Haitian literature by the likes of Jacques Stéphen
Alexis, René Depestre, Emile Ollivier and Frankétienne) consistently
prompts the authors and the editors of this volume to situate the useful-
ness of their work. With Reinterpreting the Haitian Revolution and its Cultural
Aftershocks, the editors and authors have produced an invaluable collective
work, which goes a considerable way towards reassessing the multitude of
cultural implications of the Haitian Revolution on post-1804 art, litera-
ture, history, politics, music and dance. It will be essential reading for any-
one working on the cultural aspects, myths or history of the Haitian
Revolution, and will be an extremely useful point of reference for those
working on Haitian, Caribbean and postcolonial studies more generally.
454 Book Reviews

After the Deluge: New Perspectives on the Intellectual

and Cultural History of Postwar France, Julian Bourg (ed.)
(2004)
Lanham, Maryland, USA: Lexington Books, 426 pp,
1SBN 1-800-462-6420, hardback, $90
Reviewed by David Drake (Institut d’études européennes, Paris VIII)
The title of this collection is an indirect reference to the epigram attributed

to Louis XV’s mistress Madame de Pompadour. Here ‘the deluge’ refers to
the situation of French intellectuals and culture after the dark years of the
Occupation, and to the extraordinary impact on Anglo-American acade-
mia of French theory from the 1960s onwards. It might be thought that
these two areas had been fairly extensively explored, but this interdiscipli-
nary volume identifies post-war thinkers, debates and developments that
have been somewhat neglected and locates them firmly in their cultural
contexts. It complements other work in the fields of the history of intellec-
tuals, intellectual history and cultural history; in so doing, it reminds us
that post-war French cultural and intellectual history is far richer than
is sometimes presumed, and confirms that it cannot be reduced to a few
celebrated thinkers, a handful of theoretical concepts and to deciding
whether it would have been better to be wrong with Sartre than to be
right with Aron.
The thirteen articles that comprise this collection are grouped into
three sections. The first, concerned with historicizing French intellectual
culture, contains an article by Alan D. Schrift stressing the importance of
specifically French institutions like the École normale supérieure in under-
standing French thought and which also challenges ‘the orthodox view of
post-war French philosophy as it has been conceived within the English-
speaking philosophical community’ (p. 25). An article by William Gallois
investigating the failure of theorists on the French Left to analyse the
specifically French model of capitalism is followed by Warren Breckman’s
text on the transition from Marxism to post-Marxism. This draws on the
work of the Argentine Ernesto Laclau, based in the United Kingdom and
Chantal Mouffe, a Belgian working in France, and accounts for the dif-
ferent reactions in Britain and France to the crisis of Marxism in the early
1970s.
The second section concentrates on intellectual actors, and among the
more well-known we find an article by Lucia Bonfreschi on Raymond
Aron and the notions of ‘national’ and ‘supranational’ in his writings dur-
ing the Fourth Republic, and another by Ethan Kleinberg challenging the
widespread belief that the young Emmanuel Levinas was a Talmudic
scholar. There are also contributions on a number of figures on the Left
which are certainly informative, but Christophe Premat was perhaps being
a little overambitious in his attempt to assess the significance of three
Greek exiles, namely Cornelius Castoriadis, Kostas Axelos and Kostas
Papaioannou in twenty pages. Another article, by Stuart Eldon, is devoted
solely to Axelos, translator of Georg Lukács and Martin Heidegger, series
editor at the Éditions de Minuit, and contributor to the left journal Arguments
which he edited from 1961 until its demise a year later.
Book Reviews 455

David Berry’s article on the intellectual and political itinerary of Daniel

Guérin, one of the most fascinating and neglected left-wing figures of post-
war France, deserves a special mention for its exemplary clarity and focus.
One waits with impatience for the publication of the full-length biography
of Guérin on which Berry is currently engaged. In 1968, Guérin was a sig-
natory of the first intellectuals’ statement of support for the students and
1968 is central to an article by Ron Haas on the attempts of ‘cultural rev-
olutionary’ Guy Hocquenghem to keep the spirit of 1968 alive.
The theme of the third section is ‘the interstices between culture and
politics’ and opens with an article by Michael Scott Christofferson on the
response of French intellectuals to the 1956 Hungarian Uprising which
focuses on the Comité National des Écrivains, founded during the Second
World War, and the Comité Tibor Déry, set up to free imprisoned Hungarian
intellectuals. This is followed by another three articles: Samuel Moyn’s
exploration of the role of Jean-François Steiner’s Treblinka (1966) in Pierre
Vidal-Naquet’s emergence as one of the main French commentators on
the Holocaust, Philippe Poirier’s historical narrative tracing the cultural
policies pursued by French governments from 1981 to 2003 and Michel
Behrent’s examination of the itineraries of philosopher and critic Régis
Debray and political philosopher Marcel Gauchet, viewed through the
prism of religion and republicanism.
This is an insightful collection of articles which opens with a useful
and thoughtful introduction by the editor and closes with an afterword by
historian François Dosse; it is good to see contributions, not only from
well-established figures, but also younger academics. The book should
appeal to all those who are interested in the ideas, culture and intellectual
actors of post-war France although the eclectic nature of the volume
means it will appeal particularly to those who have some prior knowledge
of this area.
Eastern Voyages, Western Visions, French Writing and

Painting of the Orient, Margaret Topping (ed.) (2004)
Bern: Peter Lang, 395 pp.,
ISBN 978-3-03910-183-2 (pbk), €61.40 £43.00
Reviewed by Hélène Gill (University of Westminster)
Francophone postcolonial studies is a discipline in the process of asserting

and defining itself. After some fifteen years making inroads into French stud-
ies Departments in the United States and the United Kingdom, it is now in a
position to challenge the hegemony of ‘metropolitan’ French Studies in all
but the most traditional institutions. This dynamic and healthy develop-
ment, in many ways, has prompted a wave of self-reflecting edited volumes
during the past couple of years that have set out to establish the field and
outline its boundaries. Margaret Topping’s collection of critical essays on
writing and painting from the French colonial era belongs to this category. It
presents the reader with a wide-ranging selection of articles on giants of
mainstream French literature known for their fascination for the East:
Racine – with Bérénice and Bajazet (David Maskell), Nerval, Flaubert, Claudel
456 Book Reviews

(articles by Michel Brix, Adrianne Tooke and Akane Kawakami, respectively).

The Editor contributes an intriguing essay on Proust and Persia, and there are
pieces on less celebrated figures more typically associated with exoticism,
travel, the Orient: Loti (Edward J. Hughes), Bouvier (Charles Forsdick), Léon
Werth (Renaud Ferreira de Oliveira). The book ventures into theoretical and
historical territory (Ceri Crossley on Orientalism and Historicism in Michelet
and Quinet, Wes Williams on the Narrative Habits of the Journey East, Finn E.
Sinclair on Conquering Constantinople). Sheila Mason adds a comparative
touch by disclosing affinities between Montesquieu’s Lettres Persanes and the
writings of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.
Again, this is far from the first collection of essays of its kind, but it stands
out for compelling reasons. Firstly, the selection does not simply comprise arti-
cles on literary and visual topics. It manages to turn a collective volume into a
synthesis of the materials presented: A substantial Editor’s introduction
makes a genuine link between the diverse components and the whole, and
gives it direction. The cogency of the collective work is bolstered, moreover, by
a final contribution by Margaret Majumdar who provides an overarching
comment on the gaze (‘Orientalism and the Problematic of Vision’).
But the reviewer must declare a special interest in the contributions on
iconography. Barbara Wright’s piece on Eugène Fromentin, erudite as ever,
emphasizes the gap between his immediate response to the light of
Southern Algeria and later renditions executed in his studio. She raises the
question of Fromentin as a ‘proto-impressionist’ (as opposed, one gathers,
to a mere ‘orientalist’), but rightly notes that the impressionists were more
drawn to the mists and the urban scenes of the North than to the specta-
cle of the primordial South. Another iconography perhaps not easily
defined as ‘orientalist’ (or as anything else) is the work of Gustave Moreau.
Peter Cooke delves into the depths of la Civilisation Moréenne and traces the
itinerary of the painter of Eastern images who thought the journey to the
East a waste of time: ‘in Moreau’s view, the artist cannot escape… his
cultural conditioning’ (p. 217). But the history painter haunted by
‘l’amour pur de l’arabesque’ (p. 218) achieves an ‘archaizing stylistic
exoticism’ which brings him close to the work of Gauguin. Cooke argues
that ‘from a modern Saidian perspective… it might seem rather to be a
highly elaborate celebration of Western imperialism… Yet the ambiguity
and the polysemy of Moreau’s paintings do not permit such simplistic and
reductive readings’ (p. 233). Some remarks in Cooke’s piece on Moreau’s
East–West synthesis dovetail with the Editor’s reflections on Proust and
Persia. The article raises the role played by an imagined clichéd East exem-
plified by the ‘Persian’ church of Balbec in the evolution of the young nar-
rator towards his aesthetic maturity.
As a result of such insights, the book innovates by stretching and even
questioning familiar patterns of francophone postcolonial critique. It
emphasizes fresh and unorthodox ways to comment on colonial and/or
orientalizing imagery and writing. Most articles avoid the reiteration of
well-worn arguments and focus on original, unexpected angles. In a field
which, despite its comparative novelty has sometimes resorted to repet-
itive and stilted argument, this new publication brings the hope of
renewed critical astuteness and a new edge to the whole area’s scholarly
approaches.
Book Reviews 457

The Land without Shadows, Abdourahman A. Waberi

(1994). Translated by Jeanne Garane, with a foreword by
Nuruddin Farah (2005)
Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 128 pp.,
ISBN 0-8139-2507-X (hbk), $45
Reviewed by Njeri Githire (University of Minnesota-Twin Cities)
Abdourahman A. Waberi’s first collection of short stories Le pays sans

ombre (1994) is a gripping portrait of Djibouti, the last French colony on
the African mainland, told in a narrative style that verges on social analysis,
journalistic reporting, folktale, ethnography and short fiction. Honoured
at its publication with the Grand prix de la Nouvelle francophone de
l’Académie Royale de Langue et de Littérature Française de Belgique –
Fondation Henri Cornélus, Le pays sans ombre consists of seventeen short
stories in two parts that take the reader on a journey across this Red Sea
country, the smallest in the Horn of Africa, a journey through time and
through the county’s struggles and resistance.
In both the first part, ‘Detour: Pages Torn from the Novel of the
Imagination’ comprising eight short stories, and the second part, ‘Return:
Pages Torn from the Land without Shadows’, which consists of nine short
stories, Djibouti’s pre-colonial/colonial past and postcolonial reality interlace
and reflect upon one another, but follow no particular timeline or pattern.
Among the stories, ‘The Primal Ogress’ is a legendary account of the
‘defeat (Jab) of the ogress (Bouti)’. In this definition of Djibouti (or more
precisely ‘Jabouti’) ‘the narrator delves into past history and myth to
unearth the cultural significance of the conquest of the city’s “cannibal
godmother”’ (p. 17). Other stories unfold as the sun beats down upon ‘a
quiet little village … on the Djibouti-Addis Ababa line’ (p. 27), nomads-
turned-slum-dwellers, khat-chewers ruminating in pursuit of ‘zombifica-
tion’ … and offer glimpses into fragments of rural and urban life, of tragic
victories and quiet tragedies.
A total of fourteen epigraphs quoting Shakespeare, Evelyn Waugh,
Victor Hugo, Paul Nizan, Nuruddin Farah, Assia Djebar, Samuel Beckett,
Arthur Rimbaud, Louis Calaferte, Tchicaya U Tam’si, Kateb Yacine,
Rachid Mimouni, Charles Baudelaire, Wole Soyinka head twelve of the
short stories, an exercise that can be read as Waberi’s attempt to engage in
conversations between continents, cultures, centuries and genres. The
writer’s concerns with identity and language are also revealed in ‘The
Dasbiou Mystery’, in which a young cameleer and valorous warrior is
stricken with a new tongue, which proves to be Martinican Creole. Indeed,
with Waberi’s brilliant and subtle short stories, the reader shifts back
and forth between scenes that could come from an Arabian Nights’ tale
and contemporary reality, with its deeper implications and broader
consequences.
Le pays sans ombre has been ably translated as The Land without Shadow
(2005) by Jeanne Garane, with Waberi’s ‘close collaboration’. The transla-
tion, which endeavours to be consistent with, and true to the original is
accompanied by a valuable and informative introduction that explains,
among others, the work’s title, Waberi’s popularity and assured literary
458 Book Reviews

voice among the ‘New Generation’ of francophone African writers, as well

as cultural and historical elements that may be vital to fully understand
this magnificent blend of imagination, politics and history.
The Land without Shadow also incorporates a foreword by famous Somali
writer Nuruddin Farah, as well as a short glossary, and a bibliography of
‘Literary Works by Abdourahman A. Waberi’ and ‘Related Critical Works’.
An engaging read and a fascinating peek inside a little-known corner of the
francophone African world, this delightful collection will appeal to readers
the world over.
Assia Djebar: In Dialogue with Feminisms,

Priscilla Ringrose (2006)
Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 268 pp.,
ISBN 90-420-1739-2 (hbk), US$73
Reviewed by Nicholas Harrison (King’s College London)
When Djebar has spoken about her ‘silence’ of the 1970s she has always
emphasized the importance of her experiences as a film-maker in that
decade. Filming and recording Algerian women, Djebar came to feel
more strongly than ever the desire, perhaps the duty, to evoke women’s
lives, languages and perspectives. I have always wondered whether
Djebar has tended to underplay the importance to her of the new wave
of feminist thought that emerged in Paris at that time; after all, Femmes
d’Alger dans leur appartement of 1980, whose many voices are predomi-
nantly female and are framed by Djebar’s remarks in the foreword and
concluding essay about her writing project and patriarchy, was pub-
lished by des femmes, the Parisian feminist publishing house that had
emerged from the MLF (Mouvement de libération des femmes) and that has
published much of Cixous’s work (and one text by Kristeva). Djebar has
noted that from the mid-70s she became aware of ‘un arabe des femmes’,
‘une “langue des femmes” à usage parallèle, le plus souvent clandestin et
occulte, par rapport à l’arabe ordinaire, celui de la communauté (pour
ne pas dire la “langue des hommes”)’ (Ces voix qui m’assiègent, Paris:
Albin Michel, 1999: 36). Perhaps it is even possible to see in those
remarks a tacit acknowledgement of the significance for her of the pub-
lishing house that helped her reshape and relaunch her career, though
the fact that ‘des femmes’ is a common phrase and is uncapitalized
(e.e.cummings/bell hooks-style) means that any such gesture is itself at
most ‘clandestine’.
Where these writers are concerned the question of influence remains,
for me at least, an intriguing one (and elsewhere Djebar has occasionally
alluded to the work of Cixous and other ‘French’ feminists), but the ‘dia-
logues’ examined in Priscilla Ringrose’s book are of a different order.
Ringrose tells us that the book started life as an assessment of whether
Djebar was ‘a “good” or “bad” feminist’ (p. 7). She herself makes that
abandoned project sound misguided, but vestiges of it remain, and I wel-
comed the sense of argumentative edge they gave the final chapter where
among other things Ringrose criticizes Loin de Médine for failing to condemn
Book Reviews 459

polygyny. I am not sure I agree with the criticism, or that the right ques-
tions are being raised when Ringrose asks whether Djebar manages to
‘invent a “politically correct” Islam’ (pp. 33, 217), but the chapter also has
the merit of engaging with other versions of feminism that are ‘Islamic’ in
some sense, particularly in the work of Fatima Mernissi and Leila Ahmed.
The bulk of the book consists of the three encounters that Ringrose
stages between L’Amour, la fantasia and Kristeva, Vaste est la prison and
Cixous, and Ombre sultane and Irigaray. Inevitably there is a degree of
arbitrariness about the pairing of theorist and text, and this structure
makes it difficult for Ringrose to develop an overarching argument or
sense of momentum across the chapters. Individually the chapters nonethe-
less draw attention to some interesting parallels and points of contact
between the fictional and the theoretical works, at the same time offering,
via key primary and secondary texts, summaries of the theories – some-
thing students will find useful. Certain divergences are duly noted too, but
I sometimes felt that they needed to be analyzed more deeply, particularly
in relation to psychoanalysis – so central a reference for all three theorists,
much less so, it struck me as I read this book, for Djebar. For example,
Ringrose writes:
Irigaray relates the fundamental rivalry between women to the mother and
daughter’s relation to the father. […] In Ombre sultane, the mother-daughter
rivalry can be transposed to the relationship between Isma and her mother-
in-law, both of whom are in competition for the desire of one man (p. 185).
At a point like this, as in discussions of polygyny or of Djebar’s relationship

to the mother/father tongue, I would have liked to hear more about the
possible challenges to psychoanalysis posed by family relationships not
corresponding to those prevalent in Freud’s Vienna or in modern Europe
more generally. In her introduction Ringrose notes that she has tried to
avoid establishing a hierarchical relationship between fiction and theory,
but the relationship could have been more dialectical, allowing the fictions
to raise questions about the truth-claims of the theoretical texts.
The basic premise of the book, which takes it away from some of the
stock themes of the postcolonial critics who have been Djebar’s principal
commentators, remains a welcome one. Productive lines of enquiry open
up here, notably around Irigaray’s account of female subjectivity and
around the Kristevan semiotic, where Ringrose argues that ‘Djebar con-
fronts her emotional autism with a dual appeal to the maternal’ (p. 69).
The sense in which Djebar’s work constitutes a kind of écriture féminine in
Cixous’s sense is also explored suggestively, though Djebar is characteristi-
cally more complex and tentative than her critics on this point. When, in
discussing the ‘alphabet berbère’, Djebar remarks, ‘Il y a en moi un ques-
tionnement, mais par le rêve. Ce qui m’amène à …’ and Lise Gauvin jumps
in with ‘une littérature de femmes, une écriture des femmes?’, Djebar
responds: ‘Dans la société touareg, ce sont les femmes qui conservent
l’écriture’. This seems to me to refocus discussion on the specific historical
material with which Djebar is concerned and to avoid endorsing or chal-
lenging Gauvin’s turn of phrase, rather than, as Ringrose puts it, confirm-
ing Gauvin’s interpretation (pp. 124, 128). Without doubt Djebar must be
460 Book Reviews

seen as a feminist writer, but she is one who can note ironically that ‘en
Occident, on aime pleurer sur les femmes arabes, ou musulmanes, ou …’
(and I must say I felt uncomfortable with the description of contemporary
Algeria as retreating ‘into a Dark Age of fundamentalism’ (p. 257)), and
who instructs herself, paradoxically, ‘vous ne direz pas “nous”, vous ne
vous cacherez pas, vous femme singulière, derrière la “Femme”; vous ne
serez jamais, ni au début ni à la fin, “porte-parole” ‘ (Ces voix, p. 263).
Contemporary French Cultures and Societies,

Frédéric Royall (ed.) (2004)
Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 421 pp.
ISBN 978-3-03910-074-3 (pbk), €31.40 £ 22.00
Reviewed by Aedín Ní Loingsigh (University of Edinburgh)
This collection of twenty essays and a substantial critical bibliography

brings together specialists working in diverse fields within the area of
French and francophone studies. By structuring the various chapters
around four main categories – politics and society, the French language,
the arts, francophone literatures – the editor has made a considerable
effort to represent a broad range of issues related to recent developments
in French-speaking cultures and societies. The result is an eclectic
assemblage of essays that covers a multiplicity of approaches and subject
matter.
If anything does bring these disparate topics together it is the notion of
cultures and societies undergoing profound change due to the tensions
created by the assertion of local cultures and traditions in the face of an
all-pervasive globalization. From the essays on social, political and eco-
nomic change in France, to discussion of the French media, the status of
the French language in parts of the francophone world and developments
in French-language cultural production, it is clear that many French-
speaking societies are at a crossroads in terms of defining their identity
both for themselves and the international community.
Whilst most of the chapters cannot be faulted for the directness of their
approach and the clarity with which they introduce the layperson to their
subjects, it is the more sharply focused contributions that prevent the
collection from simply becoming an anthology of facts and figures. Of
particular interest are Louis Chauvel’s insightful analysis of social change
in France over the last two decades, Sarah Waters’s examination of the
emergence of ‘new protest movements’ during the 1990s and Gavin Bowd’s
analysis of the changing role of the intellectual in French life. Roger
Duclaud-Williams’s consideration of recent developments in French edu-
cational policy admirably illustrates the consequences of the global versus
local debate as France struggles to negotiate a path between its cherished
republican education system and the changes required by its place within
Europe and the wider world. This contribution finds an interesting echo in
Willy Clijsters’ succinct discussion of motivating learners of French in
Flemish-speaking Belgium where the dominance of Anglo-American cul-
ture and the assertion of Flemish identity has led to a decline in the status
Book Reviews 461

of French. It is in the sections devoted to arts and cultures and francoph-

one literatures, however, that the editor’s stated aim of raising awareness of
interdisciplinary approaches in French and francophone studies is most
effectively illustrated. Lucid and informative essays by Maeve McCusker,
Mairéad Seery and Laurent Marie on recent Caribbean literature, French
popular music and recent trends in French cinema respectively all situate
the question of cultural production within the context of international
market trends. Catherine Khordoc’s analysis of ‘écriture migrante’ in Quebec
is also a thought-provoking examination of the effects of global migration
on literary taxonomies and wider questions of national identity.
Ultimately, the strength of this collection is also its weakness and the
diversity of material cannot hide the lack of focus suggested by the non-
committal and somewhat misleading title. This absence of a coherent
framework might have been remedied in the introduction had the editor
pulled the collection’s many strands together in a more convincing manner.
In addition, more systematic cross-referencing would have helped to
strengthen the interdisciplinary dimension by pointing to ways in which
this approach might be encouraged or developed. As it is, the collection
suggests not so much the intersection of different disciplines as their jux-
taposition on parallel routes that indicate the potential for fascinating and
illuminating convergence.
La Francophonie – une introduction critique, John Kristian

Sanaker, Karin Holter and Ingse Skattum (2006)
Oslo: Unipub forlag/Oslo Academic Press, 277 pp.,
ISBN 82-7477-220-2 (pbk), €30
Reviewed by Margaret A. Majumdar (University of Portsmouth)
This book has been conceived as an introductory textbook to ‘Francophonie’

for students wishing to extend their knowledge of French-speaking countries
and their literatures, outside France itself. The fact of its publication in
French (though not without some typographical errors) testifies to the vital-
ity of Francophone Studies in Norway. The areas covered correspond to the
expertise of the three authors, who are noted scholars at the universities of
Bergen and Oslo. Thus, John Kristian Sanaker contributes the Introduction,
a chapter on European French-speaking countries (Belgium, Luxembourg,
Switzerland) and one on French-speaking North America. Karin Holter pro-
vides a chapter on North Africa (Algeria, Tunisia, Morocco and Mauritania)
and Ingse Skattum completes the volume with chapters on sub-Saharan
Africa and, finally, one on the Indian Ocean islands.
Given the authors’ interests, the volume does not purport to treat all
these areas in equal depth. Some chapters are much shorter than others
and the chapter on sub-Saharan Africa, for instance, is significantly
longer, though each follows the same pattern in their treatment of the
content. Nor is the book intended to be totally comprehensive. There is
nothing on the islands of the Pacific, for instance, and the French Caribbean
only figures briefly within the chapter on sub-Saharan Africa, firstly in the
462 Book Reviews

context of the slave trade and then in connection with the cultural move-
ment of Negritude. Indeed, Caribbean literature is explicitly treated as
part of ‘African literature’ in its origins, without any exploration of its
autonomous development.
As DOM or TOM, these territories are not part of the official institu-
tional apparatus of La Francophonie, though this does not appear to
explain their absence here, given the authors’ declared intention to
approach the problematic definition of Francophonie on the basis of first
principles. In other words, they have opted to sidestep the organizational,
political and ideological aspects of the institutional set-up of La Francophonie.
They favour instead what they describe as a ‘realistic, sober’ approach
that takes as the fundamental object of their study the actual state of the
French language in the world today. Thus, rather than engaging with the
ideological debates around the importance, universality, geo-political sta-
tus, link to absolute, humanist values and so on, of the French language
and Francophonie, the main aim of this book is to show, in quite specific
concrete terms, how the language has spread to different parts of the
globe outside France, how it has developed within the framework of lin-
guistic and educational policies, in different historical, geographical and
political contexts and in relationship to other languages, how the status
of the language varies depending on the country or region concerned, as
well as the degree of competence and fluency of the ‘French-speakers’
concerned, how particular characteristic linguistic forms have survived
and variations come about, how it has become the vehicle of expression
for specific literatures.
The strengths of the book lie in the way in which it goes beyond sim-
plistic statistics regarding the spread of French in the world to tease out
the complexities of the actual state of the language, looking at the different
levels at which it operates and the different functions it serves, whether as
mother-tongue, working language, official language, ‘neutral’ language or
other. It is also strong on the analysis of the different component parts of
the francophone world and their specificities, such as, the special, differen-
tiated characteristics of the relationship to the French language of the
Acadians and the Franco-Ontarians, or those operating within each spe-
cific African country.
Thus, as well as serving as a clearly written introductory textbook to
students of francophone Europe, Africa and North America, with a range
of references and signposts for further study, including a map of the
French-speaking world, the book also has much to offer those who are
interested in the actual state of the French language in the world today, in
the real Francophonie and its specificities, rather than its representation in
the constructs of Francophonie, where, for all the rhetoric, the proportion of
true, i.e. fully competent, French-speakers is actually in decline.
Book Reviews 463

Remnants of Empire in Algeria and Vietnam: Women, Words

and War, Pamela A. Pears (2004)
Lanham: Lexington Books, 163 pp.,
ISBN 0-7391-0831-X (hbk), £58.99
Reviewed by Kate Marsh (University of Liverpool)
This concise monograph provides a timely contribution to the ever-growing

academic field of enquiry into ‘alternative texts’: in this case postcolonial
texts written by women in French that is not ‘franco-français’. Using
Lionnet’s Postcolonial Representations: Women, Literature, Identity (1995) as
a starting point, Pears examines the subjective possibilities of the postcolo-
nial female by focussing on four novels: Yamin Mechakra’s La Grotte éclatée
(1979), Ly Thu Ho’s Le Mirage de la Paix (1986), Malika Mokeddem’s
L’Interdite (1993) and Kim Lefèvre’s Retour à la saison des pluies (1990).
Adopting a comparative approach, which emphasizes the connections
between two francophone literatures, Algerian and Vietnamese, Pears suc-
cessfully demonstrates a possible framework for the exploration of the
intersections of ‘French Studies’ and the ‘postcolonial’ while eschewing
the academic tendency to focus on geographically specific models of colo-
nialism and postcolonialism (Algeria or Vietnam).
Opening with an introduction which displays an astute taxonomic
wariness, Pears considers the political and cultural implications of the
term ‘francophone’ (as another act of colonial dominance) and of the term
‘postcolonial’, defining her use of the latter as indicating ‘neither a static
historical situation nor a particularly political one’ (p. 8). While acknowl-
edging McClintock’s 1994 observation that ‘postcolonial’ can lead to a lin-
ear reading of history, she stresses that in the four novels which she
considers ‘history is perceived in a linear fashion’ (p. 8). This notion con-
tinues throughout the second chapter (Making the Link), where Pears pro-
vides the reader with a detailed historical background to French colonial
rule in Algeria and Indochine. She explores, for example, the impact which
Dien Bien Phu (1954) and the withdrawal of the French from Indochina
had on both Algerian nationalists and literary writings, while providing
evidence for her central contention that all four female writers under con-
sideration demonstrate that the ‘postcolonial female subject has been
created as a direct result of contact with the French’ (p. 53). The third
chapter, comparing Yamin Mechakra’s La Grotte éclatée with Ly Thu Ho’s
Le Mirage de la Paix, discusses the role that the respective wars of decolo-
nization play in forming the postcolonial female subject. The final chapter
(Postwar fragmentation), in contrast, considers how Mokeddem’s
L’Interdite and Lefèvre’s Retour à la saison des pluies go beyond the creation
of new paradigms for intercultural exchanges (as Lionnet asserts for the
postcolonial women authors whom she studies) to overcome, instead, the
trap of duality. Mokeddem’s female protagonist, Sultana, is an Algerian
woman whose authority and power cannot be undermined by western
constructs of her, nor by unjust interpretations of her role within the
Algerian society, while Lefèvre in Retour creates a ‘third space’ which is
between two countries: the France of her father and the Vietnam of her
mother. Hybridity and dual identities are explored textually, but Pears
464 Book Reviews

maintains a strong historically contingent approach by stressing the his-

torical ‘post-colonial’ situation of the authors: ‘The French colonial pres-
ence in both Algeria and Vietnam created the situation in which these
women could not be accepted. They are representative of a second genera-
tion of survivors of colonialism’ (p. 141).
These strengths notwithstanding, Pears’s argument is undermined by
a certain ambivalence. While her comparative approach is salutary, and
demonstrates amply her closing assertion (before her ‘Afterword’) that a
postcolonial female subject exists who is defined not by her nationality, but
rather by historical events which occurred over a wide geographical area,
her argument could have been strengthened by examining a younger gen-
eration of Hexagone-based French female authors (Christine Angot and
Amélie Nothomb to name but two). Although she does analyze the tech-
nique of fragmentation as exploited by Duras and Sarraute (two popular
authors in the current canon of ‘French Studies’), and in her examination
of L’Interdite she convincingly shows how Mokeddem’s novel re-writes
romantic and eroticized discourses of the Algerian woman and thus effec-
tively deconstructs nineteenth-century Orientalism, a strictly dichotomized
view of the relationship between the literature of metropolitan France and
that of France’s former colonies remains (a dichotomy which she describes
as the ‘differences between Francophone and French writing’ [sic.], p. 5).
Pears’s comparative approach is a welcome one; however, a full investiga-
tion into the intersections and interdependencies between women’s ‘post-
colonial’ literature in the French language, regardless of the geographic
site of production (following the model explored by the historian Laurent
Dubois with reference to Haiti and ‘La République métisée’ (2000)), has
yet to be written.
The Child in French and Francophone Literature,

Buford Norman (ed.) (2004)
ISBN 90-420-1159-9 (pbk), €50/US$68
Reviewed by Zoë Norridge (School of Oriental and African Studies,
University of London)
Nearly 30% of the world’s 6.6 billion population are children. Such a mas-
sive demographic group is understandably associated with a large body of
literature in the form of both oral and written stories, poems and plays.
The thirty-first volume in Rodopi’s French Literature Series, The Child in
French and Francophone Literature, surveys a sample of this work written for
and about children.
The French Literature Series is published in conjunction with the annual
French Literature Conference, sponsored by the University of South Carolina
in the United States. As such, thirteen of the fifteen essays in this collection
were originally given as conference papers at a forum on the Child in March
2003. Their scope is vast. Historically, the volume ranges from the Old
French Enfances texts of the Middle Ages (Julie Baker) to the re-writing of
fairy tales in the twentieth century (Sandra Beckett). Thematically the
Book Reviews 465

1. The United Nations spread is also enormous, encompassing topics from Rousseau’s letters about
Children’s Fund, the pedagogy of botany (Marc Olivier) to an exploration of the adolescence les-
The State of the World’s
Children: Childhood bienne in Brossard’s novel Le désert mauve (Nicole Côté).
Under Threat, 2004. One of the key insights the collection offers the general academic
reader is an overview of the fabricated nature of the concept of childhood.
Early in the introduction Daniela Di Cecco states: ‘childhood is a con-
struct, contingent on social, cultural and historical factors’ (p. ix). This
construction is seen later in the text in discussions of the changing ages
at which young people are still accorded the status of child (p. 94) and
the way in which literature for young readers reflects the dominant aes-
thetic and socio-cultural preoccupations of its time (p. 19). Lewis Seifert,
in his analysis of the infantilization of the children’s stories argues that
adults consciously forged the link between fairy tales and the early years
of life, creating specific roles for children as listeners and readers (p. 25).
Mary Ekman’s essay then highlights how our understandings of the
changing perception of the child throughout history have coloured the
academic study of childhood literature from the medieval period
onwards (p. 109).
Although the collection clearly provides useful commentary on the his-
tory of childhood, the editor, Burford Norman, has grouped the papers
together by genre and theme. Predictably perhaps this means that the two
essays on francophone African writers, Henri Lopes and Marie-Claire
Matip, are placed side by side. Alioune Sow’s article on Lopes explores the
experience of l’enfance métisse in Lopes’ Le chercheur d’Afriques, focussing on
issues of double cultural allegiance and complex identity formation. In the
following essay, Cheryl Toman then points out the importance of children
in Cameroonian women’s writing with particular reference to Matip’s
Ngonda. Both these chapters cover familiar territory but make a useful
contribution to a volume which would otherwise be almost exclusively
focussed on France, the only other francophone contribution being
Claire Le Brun’s article on philosophical questions in Québécoise children’s
literature.
What seems an extraordinary missed opportunity, given the ongoing
global inequalities which so disproportionately affect the billion children
worldwide living in poverty,1 is that no articles in this collection discuss the
denied childhoods of residents of the former French colonies, despite a
growing body of fiction on the topic. There are, however, papers focussing
on literature that engages with the more sinister aspects of childhood in
France. Eileen Hoft-March shows how in Perec’s W ou le souvenir d’enfance,
childhood memories are eclipsed by the brutal interruption of the Second
World War and the Nazi concentration camps. Michael O’Riley also offers
an insightful political commentary on narrative in post-Second World War
France with his study of La Bête est morte! a ‘cartoon album’ in the vein of
Orwell’s Animal Farm or Spiegelman’s Maus (p. 43). Shifting the focus back
in time to the nineteenth century, Eglal Henein and Bénédicte Monicat also
contribute essays looking at unhappy childhoods and infant mortality.
James Hamilton comments that ‘Archetypes such as that of the Child
enjoy the capacity of drawing together the unconscious and the con-
scious into a greater unity so as to restore order and meaning to life’
(p. 158). Many of the contributors to The Child in French and Francophone
466 Book Reviews

Literature appear to be doing just this: making sense of history through 2. Originally from
the examination of childhood products of the past. Ultimately, this project Jacqueline Rose
(1984), The Case
tells us more about the identities of the adults writing for children than it of Peter Pan, or,
does about the experiences of children themselves. As Jacqueline Rose, The Impossibility
who is quoted in this volume, suggests: of Children’s Fiction.,
London: Macmillan,
1984pp. :1–2.
Children’s fiction rests on the idea that there is a child who is simply there to
be addressed and that speaking to it might be simple. Children’s fiction sets
up a world in which the adult comes first (author, maker, giver) and the child
comes after (reader, product, receiver), but where neither of them enters the
space in between. […] Children’s fiction sets up the child as an outsider to its
own process, and then aims, unashamedly, to take the child in (p. 36).2
Rose’s comment alone shows the potentially complex and troubling links
between any study of children’s literature and research into postcolonial
francophone studies.
This edited collection does not fully address some of the more contro-
versial aspects of childhood (abuse, class, poverty) and there are gaps in
the genres covered and geographical spread, gaps that are perhaps
inevitable in any collection of conference papers where the editors must
work with material available at the time. On the whole though, this volume
provides an approachable and enjoyable introduction to an eclectic range
of literature written in French for and about children.
Vocabulaire des études francophones: Les concepts de base,

Michel Beniamino and Lise Gauvin (eds) (2005)
Limoges Presses universitaires des Limoges, 210 pp.,
ISBN 2-84287-364-5 (pbk), €20
Reviewed by Dayna Oscherwitz (Southern Methodist University)
Michel Beniamino and Lise Gauvin’s Vocabulaire des études francophones

seeks to gather together in a single volume the major concepts and
terms associated with francophone studies and to do so for a francophone
audience. The project is an ambitious one for several reasons, most
notably that francophone studies as a field lies as the intersection of various
other fields, including African studies and postcolonial studies, because
the parameters of the field have not, to date, been well-defined, and
finally because in France at least, the existence of such a field is still not
entirely recognized. The editors recognize the challenges of creating
such a work in their introduction, and while they do not claim to
attempt to define the shape or scope of the field with the work, they do
acknowledge it as an attempt to map the current shape of the field in
francophone studies.
Given the length of the work, its breadth is impressive. There are
approximately one hundred entries on topics as diverse as alterité, centre/
périphérie, francophonie, intertextualité and traduction. As this brief sampling
suggests, the subjects of the entries range from fairly abstract and theoreti-
cal, in entries such as décentrement and oraliture, to the concrete, in entries
Book Reviews 467

such as genre and ironie. In all cases, however, the organization and
approach to the subject are the same. The entry begins with a fairly
straightforward definition and attribution in such cases where that is rele-
vant. This is followed by an analysis of the way the term is and has been
applied in the field of francophone studies, including references to particular
authors or theorists and specific works. Each entry concludes with a
bibliography, which recommends specific texts for further reading. The
volume also includes (at the back) a list of all entries included, which is
useful both in navigating the text and for introducing students to some of
the key terms that are used in the field.
There are a number of entries in the work that are particularly note-
worthy. The entry on francophonie, for example, which is one of the longer
entries in the volume at approximately four pages, begins with a definition
of the term, specifically ‘l’ensemble de pays qui ont en usage la langue
française’ (p. 82). It then discusses the role of institutions in the formation
and administration of the concept of francophonie, then passes to an analysis
of the tension between the geo-political and cultural conceptions of
francophonie, and finally moves to a discussion of the relationship between
the concept of la francophonie, and other theoretical concepts, such as
centre-périphérie and postcolonialisme.
The entry on ‘nation’ is similarly concise and thorough. It contains a
summary of the historical development of the concept of nation from the
seventeenth century onwards as well as a discussion of the development of
the literary treatment of the concept of nation in the works of scholars
ranging from Aimé Césaire to Amadou Koné. The entry also discusses
variations in thinking on the nation in metropolitan France and in other
francophone regions.
The work succeeds in giving manageable, clear and fairly nuanced
definitions of a number of key terms that are central to the field of fran-
cophone studies and in directing a reader to many of the relevant scholarly
and literary works related to each term defined. It is less useful in establishing
the parameters of the field of francophone studies, or in drawing the reader’s
attention to some of the issues that surround the field, such as the division,
in some parts of the world, between French and francophone. Since it is
difficult to address these issues within the framework of the entries them-
selves, a longer introduction might have been useful in addressing such
questions, particularly since the volume is intended for a francophone audi-
ence, and the field of francophone studies is arguably less well-established
in the francophone world than in the anglophone one.
Although the work is aimed at students or scholars of francophone
studies in the francophone world, it might also be useful to instructors of
francophone studies in the anglophone world as well. The editors intended
the volume for use in high schools and universities. In the francophone
world, that audience seems appropriate. In the anglophone world, the
book would be better suited to advanced undergraduate students or more
probably to graduate students of francophone studies.
468 Book Reviews

Voyage of Hope. Vietnamese Australian Women’s Narratives,

Nathalie Huynh Chau Nguyen (2005)
Victoria, Australia: Common Ground, 207 pp.,
ISBN 186335591-X (pbk), US$28.65, €21.29
Reviewed by Siobhán Shilton (University of Bristol)
The collapse of South Vietnam on 30 April 1975 and the country’s reuni-
fication under a communist regime triggered an exodus of historic propor-
tions. Approximately two million Vietnamese fled their homeland and
found new homes overseas, primarily in the United States, Australia,
Canada and France. Nathalie Huynh Chau Nguyen’s Voyage of Hope specif-
ically explores the experiences and journeys of Vietnamese women who
arrived in Australia between 1975 and 1989. Presenting the oral narra-
tives of twelve women from a wide cross-section of the Vietnamese com-
munity in Australia, the book provides a nuanced examination of one of
the largest and most visible diasporas of the late twentieth century. The
women (interviewed in 2004, as part of a project on ‘Vietnamese
Women’s Stories’) comprise two generations of migrants to Australia, who
range in age from 26 to 70. They include ethnic Chinese and Catholics.
They come from various regions in Vietnam, as well as diverse socio-
economic contexts and professional backgrounds. Their stories, excerpts of
which are arranged to reflect the stages and central themes of their jour-
neys, depict a wide range of experiences of escape by sea and life in a
refugee camp, including the accounts of two women who left Vietnam as
unaccompanied minors after the war. They recount memories of wartime,
their stories spanning the period of 30 years from the end of Second World
War and the Japanese occupation (1945) through the Indochina War
(1946–54, which brought 80 years of French colonization to an end) and
the Vietnam War (1959–75). They detail the unbearable conditions of life
after 1975, which motivated many women to embark on their dangerous
journey. Finally, they discuss their experiences of settlement in Australia,
revealing the processes of ‘deskilling’ and retraining undergone by many
refugees, as well as their perceptions of the way in which they have been
received by the host community, and the extent to which they define
themselves as Australian or Vietnamese.
Nguyen’s commentary on selected extracts from the interviews sup-
plies contextual detail necessary for an understanding of these personal
and (in many cases) traumatic narratives in a wider narrative of conflict,
displacement, immigration and diaspora. The interrelatedness of individ-
ual and collective histories of the Vietnamese exodus is reflected by the
presentation – in a section towards the conclusion of the volume – of per-
sonal photographs alongside official photographs from ‘The Archive of
Vietnamese Boat People’ and ‘Project 30, the Vietnamese Community in
Australia – Victoria Chapter’. The final section of the book usefully pro-
vides brief biographies of the women interviewed.
Voyage of Hope aims, through the transcription and (in most cases)
translation of oral histories, to redress the perceived ‘silence’ of Vietnamese
women in Australia. While Nguyen’s sensitive comparison of aspects of
their stories demonstrates the heterogeneity of Vietnamese Australian
Book Reviews 469

women’s narratives, it equally highlights elements specific to the jour-

neys of female refugees, such as the dangers of abduction and rape they
encountered at sea, or the impact of immigration on gender roles particu-
lar to the traditional Vietnamese family. The stories recounted offer gen-
dered, underrepresented histories of the Indochina War and the Vietnam
War, providing counterpoints to official accounts, which have tended to
privilege the perspectives of male combatants and politicians. Additionally,
these narratives contribute a new dimension to representations of the
Vietnamese diaspora, by foregrounding not only the sense of cultural
alienation experienced as a result of displacement (a central theme in novels
of francophone Vietnamese writers) but also the journey itself. Nguyen’s
book enables a re-reading of narratives of the Vietnamese diaspora, and of
histories of Vietnam, which acknowledges the impact of factors such as
gender, ethnicity, class, age and generation on the experience of war and
exodus. It will be of interest to scholars working in a variety of intercon-
nected fields, including history, cultural studies, studies in travel writing
and postcolonial studies.
Sex, Sailors and Colonies: Narratives of ambiguity in the

works of Pierre Loti, Hélène de Burgh (2005)
Bern, Berlin, Brussels, Frankfurt, New York, Oxford and
Vienna: Peter Lang, 322 pp.,
ISBN 3-03910-601-5 (pbk), £37.90
Reviewed by Peter Turberfield (Toho University, Japan)
What is most striking about the extensive criticism on Pierre Loti, both lit-
erary and biographical, is the repeated assertion of his inconsistency, of the
contradictions to be found in his art and in his life. These perceived contra-
dictions are often used as a way of undermining claims of his literary merit,
and attacking him personally. Hélène de Burgh’s study takes a radically different
approach. She carefully lists the many contradictions that can be found but
suggests that far from detracting from Loti’s work, they should instead be
appreciated for the ambiguity and feeling of uncertainty that they bring to it.
Rather than being viewed as a weakness they should be construed as a
strength for the effect they have of subverting traditionally understood
Orientalist and colonialist conventions. She notes the reliance of exoticism
on colonialism as a source for its subject matter and claims that Loti com-
plicates this relationship by ‘locating his narratives at the nexus between
colonial domination and exotic romance’. Loti thus drifts between colonialist
and indigenous perspectives and consequently destabilizes our perceptions
of both positions. Her argument is based on a partial refutation of Said’s
condemnation of Orientalist writing. She acknowledges Said’s main con-
tention that representation of the Orient was a creation of western imagi-
nation, but maintains that Loti differs from other Orientalist writers in that
he had a genuine interest in other cultures. She also asserts that ‘[U]nlike
writers who sought to uncover the Orient to the reader, Loti endeavoured to
preserve the Orient by presenting a fantasy in lieu of the real.’ One of her
main points is that Loti’s Orient differs from the sexually exploitative
470 Book Reviews

norm, her contention being that his portrayal of oriental women is essen-
tially non-sexual. She proposes Loti’s childhood friend Lucette as the model
of his oriental women and his brother Gustave as that of his various male
companions. These models of sister/guide and brother/protector are inter-
preted as displacing sexuality. She also shows how this reading becomes
doubly intriguing. As both Lucette and Gustave are dead, Loti in effect
desires the unobtainable. The desire that pervades his work therefore
inevitably remains unfulfilled and unfocused. Loti’s investigation into
harem life is given as an example of such ambiguity as far from confirming
the sexual intrigue of nineteenth-century Orientalist imagination, he instead
reveals a rather mundane domestic space. This re-evaluation of the impor-
tance of ambiguity in Loti’s work presents many intriguing new interpreta-
tions and insights. It will, however, given its quite radical conclusions, be
sure to provoke debate. One point of contention might be that whilst Loti’s
sympathy for and interest in other cultures may be undeniable, it is diffi-
cult to see how his fantasized depiction of a pre-colonial Orient, fixed in
the past, differs from the Orientalist portrayals Said points to; of the Orient
as ‘eternal, uniform, and incapable of defining itself ’. Another argument
could be made over her claim that sexuality is unarticulated, being only
metaphorically revealed. To illustrate this point she gives an insightful
analysis of a scene from Aziyadé in which Loti spends the night adrift in his
boat, first with Aziyadé and then with his servant/friend Samuel. She
shows how the ‘thick, clustered drops’ of morning dew on Aziyadé’s dress
and later on the boat planks can be read as a metaphor for semen, implying
sexual intercourse with both characters. The scene is used to support her
conclusion that whilst Loti’s work may be charged with sexual symbolism
this remains only implicit and ‘does not convert into action’. As de Burgh
herself acknowledges that homoeroticism in particular would have had to
be disguised, at the very least for the sake of ‘safe publication’, this conclu-
sion does seem difficult to accept. However, these objections aside, de
Burgh’s identification of ambiguity as a deliberately created effect is an
important one and presents an interesting new way of approaching Loti’s
work. The thesis format and lack of proofreading are unfortunate weak-
nesses, but the ideas presented do provide a provocative new perspective
that suggests an overdue re-evaluation of long-accepted views.
L’étonnante aventure de la mission Barsac,

Jules Verne (2005)
Paris: L’Harmattan, 214 pp. and 229 pp.,
ISBN 2-7475-9602-8 and 2-7475-9603-6 (pbk), €19 and €20
Reviewed by Kiera Vaclavik (Queen Mary, University of London)
The first text to appear in the Afrique au cœur des lettres series, this most
recent publication of L’étonnante aventure de la mission Barsac coincided
with the centenary of Verne’s death and bears all the hallmarks of his
Voyages extraordinaires: the combination of education and entertainment;
the pre-eminence of technological invention; the sardonic verve of the nar-
rator; the thirst for the unknown and the insurmountable determination
Book Reviews 471

of the central protagonists pitted against a mysterious opponent. But this

typically Vernien novel was in fact the work not of Jules, who had written
only five chapters at the time of his death, but of his son, Michel. The five
chapters appear at the end of the second volume of this edition, enabling a
comparison between the two works which is undertaken by series editor
Jean-Pierre Orban in the ‘Avant-Propos’. Michel’s finished novel stands up
extremely well in any such comparison with the opening chapters of his
(now) illustrious father: weighed down by geographical and historical
detail, the rather arid and plodding opening of Jules’ Voyage d’etudes is
replaced by an animated and engaging text with much more varied char-
acterization and plot-lines. Michel retains the central notion of a journey
from the coast into the African interior undertaken by metropolitan
députés in order to assess whether the indigenous population is ready for
and worthy of parliamentary representation, as well as introducing a pair
of characters who join the expedition in search of information regarding a
family member. But rather than uncovering the worthiness or otherwise of
the black population, the travellers instead discover the evil and despotic
nature of a white (English)man: at the close of the first part of the novel,
they are captured by the tyrannical Harry Killer and brought to Blackland,
the dystopic city he has created in the heart of the desert with the assis-
tance of a French engineer, Michel Camaret. Thus, as Antoine Tshitungu
Kongolo rightly underlines in his presentation of the text, the novel’s ‘con-
frontation du Bien et du Mal […] n’oppose pas l’Afrique et l’Europe en tant
que telles’ (p. 17). Although by no means anti-colonialist – the representa-
tion of the lazy, superstitious African population is, as Kongolo argues,
very much in line with colonial discourse of the period - the text neverthe-
less contains a certain critique of mercantile, technocratic, European ‘civil-
isation’. Kongolo’s contextualization of the novel does not, however, take
into account other literary works of the period, which, in a collection aim-
ing to investigate the place of Africa in literary production, is somewhat
regrettable. No more than cursory reference is made to Conrad’s Heart of
Darkness which Kongolo sees as being ‘aux antipodes’ to L’étonnante mis-
sion (p. 21). Yet the journey from the coast into the African interior under-
taken partly in search of information concerning a specific individual, and
the discovery of a deranged white man within its depths, aligns rather
than separates the two works. Passing reference is made to Michel
Camaret as ‘une préfiguration en quelque sorte du professeur Tournesol’
(p. 17), but there is no mention of Hergé’s Tintin au Congo, in which the
sense that the real danger in Africa comes from white, Anglo-Saxon civi-
lization beyond, would later reappear. The novel itself is left to stand alone;
editorial footnotes appearing only in the course of Jules Verne’s own five
chapters. However, the text is encumbered by a series of typographical
errors which, it is hoped, will be avoided in subsequent volumes of what
promises to be a stimulating and useful series.
472 Book Reviews

Les jeunes marocains et leurs langues,

Jan Jaap de Ruiter (2006)
Paris: L’Harmattan, 304 pp.,
ISBN 2-296-01329-5 (pbk), €25.50
Reviewed by Lauren Wagner (University College London)
In Les jeunes marocains et leurs langues Dr de Ruiter addresses persistent

questions about language use and attitudes in the multi-glossic context of
Morocco. The book summarizes results from a questionnaire delivered to
university students between 2000 and 2003 that surveyed students’
habits of language use and their attitudes about the languages in their
repertoire: standard Arabic, dialectal Arabic, French and Tamazight
dialects. De Ruiter frames this research in the context of the Arabization of
the educational system in Morocco, hypothesizing that standard Arabic
will be the language more used by these students than French, although
French still will have a strong presence. With regard to the dialectal
languages of Arabic and Tamazight, he hypothesizes that they will be
looked on more positively by respondents in the wake of changes in public
policy towards them. The survey surpasses previous work by including
both qualitative and quantitative measures on linguistic attitudes connected
to diglossic divisions among the languages in practical use in Morocco. In
all, de Ruiter provides a broad basis of data and statistics that will be essential
to scholars interested in this or in comparable situations.
The book begins with an overview of the linguistic situation current in
Morocco at the time of study, along with a review of past investigations on
language use there. De Ruiter considers changes in the educational status of
different languages, specifically French and standard Arabic, as well as the
shifting official status of Tamazight dialects in the present moment from
being banned to being government-supported. The next chapter discusses
the research methodology itself, outlining the objectives, hypotheses, popula-
tion sample and the questionnaire design. In the three subsequent chapters,
de Ruiter presents the data, first with a general overview of the survey
results, then analysed by maternal language (either dialectal Arabic or
Tamazight) and finally sorted by gender. In the concluding chapter, de Ruiter
revisits the hypotheses introduced earlier and reconsiders some assertions
made in previous research under the light of the present findings.
The main point of interest in this report lies in the construction of the
survey itself. Divided into four parts, it begins with questions on the
respondent’s background (gender, age, maternal language), then contin-
ues to ask about the skill level obtained across the possible skills for each
language. For example, respondents indicated their own level in reading,
speaking, writing and understanding standard Arabic and French, as well
as their levels in speaking and understanding only for dialectal Arabic and
Tamazight. It is important to note that de Ruiter takes these auto-evaluations
as accurate indicators of skill level; he does not include skill evaluation
tests of his own, nor does he qualify these responses as representative of
the subjects’ own perceptions. The next group of questions addresses the
use of each of the languages in different contexts – oral and written, formal
and informal. Lastly, to determine attitudes and perceptions, de Ruiter uses
Book Reviews 473

a two-part structure. First, he presents a set of thirteen propositions about

the languages, which the respondents can agree or disagree with at different
degrees of magnitude. These propositions include primarily estimations on
the value and use of dialectal Arabic in different oral and written contexts,
both inside and out of Morocco. Finally, the respondent has the opportu-
nity to write his or her own thoughts about the beauty and importance of
standard Arabic. A great majority of respondents completed this section,
providing subjective comments that were coded according to their central
argument. The variety of information provided by this questionnaire
enables de Ruiter to draw conclusions on a number of aspects of the
linguistic landscape of respondents, from their choices in media consump-
tion to their associations of standard Arabic with religion as mentioned in
the comments section.
The majority of the book consists of the presentation of the question-
naire results, followed by short analytical summaries. Herein lies its signif-
icant fault: the reporting of data receives far more attention than the
contextualization or analysis of it. In that respect, this is a volume that will
serve much more a reader who is searching for statistics than one who
seeks a detailed, comprehensive picture of the sociolinguistic situation in
Morocco. The analyses that are provided include some potentially signifi-
cant findings, particularly with regard to linkages between the maternal
language variable and levels of skill mastery in standard Arabic and
French. Notably, the data did not demonstrate many significant gender-
based differences, a conclusion which challenges reports from elsewhere
in the Maghreb on the status of French and provides a point of embarka-
tion for future investigation.
Given the wealth of data that this survey provides, this volume is certain
to be an essential reference for study on the linguistic situation of the
Maghreb. Read as a continuation of previous study in this region and on
this subject matter, de Ruiter has succeeded in closing gaps in information
while also opening new avenues of research. Perhaps the next step will be
a sociolinguistic survey of Morocco that recognizes the significant portion
of the population that is illiterate, and addresses the roles of the various
languages of Morocco from their perspectives. In anticipation of that, de
Ruiter’s book provides a solid empirical foundation for understanding the
current dynamics of language use in Morocco.
L’Art Français et Francophone depuis 1980.

Contemporary French and Francophone Art,
Michael Bishop and Christopher Elson (eds) (2005)
ISBN 90-420-1657-4 (pbk), €48
Reviewed by David Zerbib (University of Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne)
Les vingt trois études rassemblées par Michael Bishop et Christopher Elson
à la suite d’un colloque international qui s’est tenu en 2001 à l’Université
de Dalhousie (Canada), traitent de pratiques artistiques très diverses, allant
de la peinture à la vidéo en passant par l’art sacré et l’installation in situ,
474 Book Reviews

et cite une cinquantaine d’artistes, plus ou moins célèbres, aussi différents

que Niki de Saint-Phalle ou Fabrice Hybert. Si différents que ne semble les
réunir qu’une langue commune. ‘Français’ et/ou ‘francophone’, l’art dont
il est question émane d’une sphère linguistique bien identifiée mais ici un
langage se cherche pour aborder les œuvres.
Dans ce livre écrit majoritairement en Français (cinq essais sont
rédigés en anglais), cette recherche d’un langage passe par la question
centrale de l’écriture. Ceci à plusieurs niveaux: écriture comme unique
technique d’accès aux œuvres (absence d’illustrations dans l’ouvrage);
écriture comme problématique (ainsi que l’exprime Nathalie Farrimond
en se demandant comment écrire sur des œuvres sans en réduire la sin-
gularité); et enfin écriture comme thématique (une dizaine des textes
traite du rapport entre artistes et écrivains). Sans doute cette place de
l’écriture est-elle liée au cadre méthodologique des French Studies qui
structure l’ensemble, même si tous les auteurs ne relèvent pas nécessaire-
ment de ce champ académique (des notes biographiques auraient été à
cet égard bienvenues).
Dans ce contexte académique les ‘différences’ relevés dans les œuvres
deviennent souvent des ‘différances’ (cf le texte de Bishop), et les ‘compara-
isons’ des ‘comparutions’ par référence, respectivement, à Jacques Derrida
et Michel Deguy qui représentent ici deux influences théoriques majeures.
Mais c’est surtout le regard des écrivains qui est sollicité. Notamment celui
de Michel Tournier, dans des textes sur la relation entre le romancier et
des photographes (textes d’Arlette Bouloumié ou Joëlle Cauville). Une
même perspective est suivie dans d’autres essais sur Bernard Noël et la
photographie ou sur Yves Bonnefoy et la peinture. Michael Brophy voit
dans ce rapport entre peinture et littérature une même échappée des dis-
cours analytiques au profit d’une certaine ‘corporalité’. Nicolas Goyer
parle quant à lui d’une ‘plastique langagière’ du poète qui traduit les
opérations les plus ‘incarnationnelles’ de la peinture.
Ces interventions d’écrivains face à l’art médiatisent notre rapport aux
œuvres non d’une manière didactique mais sur un mode ‘sympathique’
d’accompagnement et de dialogue. Là se crée un entre-deux du lisible et
du visible. En un sens, ce lieu spécifique est comparable au travail
d’artistes à la fois peintres et poètes, tel Hermenegilde Chiasson (cf le texte
de Elson). Aussi l’autorité de l’écrivain ne constitue-t-elle pas ici une véri-
table limite esthétique. Il n’en va pas de même de la quasi-exclusivité
accordée par lui à la peinture et à la photographie. ‘Les écrivains ont
renoncé à fréquenter les artistes’ écrit Philippe Dagen cité par Laurence
Perrigault. Sorti de l’art ‘rétinien’ comme disait Duchamp (et en dehors de
l’art occidental, étant donné qu’il est peu fait mention de l’art francophone
africain ou caraïbéen) cela tend à se vérifier dans ce volume.
Pour autant, L’art Français et francophone depuis 1980 s’intéresse aussi à
un ‘contemporain’ qui n’est pas seulement contemporary c’est-à-dire coor-
donné historiquement. Comme la traduction du titre semble le signaler en
évitant cette désignation, ‘l’art contemporain’, en France, renvoie à des pra-
tiques plastiques venues avec la supposée ‘fin de la peinture’ et qui per-
turbent les classifications en termes de genre artistique ainsi que les
frontières nationales et culturelles. Ces pratiques constituent l’autre polarité
du livre. Dès lors, ce ne sont plus des œuvres d’écrivains et de peintres qui se
Book Reviews 475

rencontrent, ce sont des signes de natures différentes qui interfèrent entre

eux et brouillent les significations dans une même œuvre. L’expérience du
regard et de la lecture supplante alors celle de l’écriture et du geste créateur.
A cet égard, Marcel Duchamp, bien sûr, devient une pierre de touche
incontournable. Mais aussi Marcel Broodthaers dont l’héritage serait ‘sous
estimé’ explique Anja Chavez. Les ‘stratégies référentielles’ du créateur
d’un musée fictif en 1968 (son Musée d’art moderne) se retrouveraient chez
Christian Boltanski et son travail sur la mémoire personnelle et collective,
ainsi que chez Pierre Huygue et son questionnement sur l’information, la
fiction et la réalité. Pour James Petterson, l’œuvre de Broodthaers offre
une clé pour penser la ‘désautorisation’ et le retrait de l’artiste devant le rôle
créateur du public. Et d’illustrer ceci par le travail de trois artistes : Information
Fiction Publicité (artiste devenu personne morale), Philippe Thomas et
enfin Philippe Pareno qui exploite (dans No Ghost just a Shell, 2000) un
personnage virtuel de manga, conçu comme ‘signe qui ne représente rien’.
A travers Broodthaers cet affranchissement des signes renverrait à Mallarmé
placé ‘à la source de l’art contemporain’.
Ainsi l’enjeu ne réside plus dans le rapport du scriptural au pictural
mais dans le lien plus profond du signe et de la représentation. Béatrice
Vernier-Larochette rend compte des effets d’interférences ou de brouillage
volontaire et non plus d’accompagnement entre un texte et la matérialité
d’une sculpture, la réalité d’une photographie, la signification d’un monu-
ment public. ‘Comment exprimer une chose sans passer par la représenta-
tion?’ était déjà la question posée par le peintre abstrait Olivier Debré,
explique Laure Michel. D’une certaine façon, une même rupture référen-
tielle se retrouve dans les signes projetés par Felice Varini sur des espaces
architecturaux (texte de Vittorio Frigerio). Pour Adelaide Russo, l’œuvre
polymorphe de Robert Cahen, serait l’exemple par excellence de cette
réflexion contemporaine sur le réseau des signes et la place qu’y tient le
public comme partie prenante du système.
Ecrire sur l’art contemporain impose sans doute, comme le dit Anne-
Marie Duguet à propos de l’oeuvre vidéo (citée par Shanna McGuire), la
forme de l’ ‘essai inachevé, ouvert, éternellement réactualisable’. La plu-
part des auteurs ici réunis tendent à adopter cette attitude. Ils préfèrent les
figures du surgissement et des proliférations polysémiques à celles de l’an-
crage et des origines fixes. Comme par exemple dans le travail de Titus
Carmel et sa projection dans ‘l’avant du souvenir’; ou dans ‘l’insulte’ comme
‘assaut’ dans les tableaux d’Aubanel; ou encore dans la métaphore comme
mouvement spatial plutôt qu’identité dans l’art d’Hervé Télémaque. Séparées
de la logique disparue des ‘mouvements artistiques’, des œuvres singulières
apparaissent ici très clairement. Reliées entre elles par un travail sur les
signes sortis des systèmes pré-codés de signification, dans ou après la
peinture, à travers ou au-delà de l’écriture.
476 Book Reviews

IJFS_10.3_11_Index.qxd 11/7/07 7:32 PM Page 477
Index Volume 10, IJFS
Benrabah, M., Language maintenance and spread: French in Algeria, pp. 193–215.
Chikhi, B., Un divan pour en finir avec l’absence ou le temps retrouvé dans la littérature
algérienne1, pp. 237–252.
Cumming, G., Promoting democracy in Cameroon: a revolutionary French approach?
pp. 105–119.
Dubreuil, L., Don du français et parole (post)coloniale, pp. 345–358.
Forsdick, C., Situating Haiti: on some early nineteenth-century representations of
Toussaint Louverture, pp. 17–34.
Gallagher, M., Genre and the self: some reflections on the poetics and politics of the
‘fils de Césaire,’ pp. 51–66.
Gamble, H., The National Revolution in French West Africa: Dakar-Jeunes and the
shaping of African opinion, pp. 85–103.
Gauvin, L., Post ou péricolonialisme: l’ étrange modèle québécois (notes),
pp. 433–438.
Golay, A., Féminisme et postcolonialisme: Beauvoir, Fanon et la guerre d’Algérie,
pp. 407–424.
Gontard, M., Francophonie et globalisation La question de l’interlecte, pp. 253–269.
Haddour, A. & Majumdar, M., Whither francophone studies? Launching the
debate, pp. 7–16.
Hargreaves, A., & Moura, J-M., Extending the boundaries of francophone postcolo-
nial studies, pp. 307–311.
Higginson, P., A descent into crime: explaining Mongo Beti’s last two novels,
pp. 377–391.
Jenson, D., Before Malcolm X, Dessalines: a ‘French’ tradition of black Atlantic radi-
calism, pp. 329–344.
Kelly, D., ‘An Unfinished Death’: the legacy of Albert Camus and the work of textual
memory in contemporary European and Algerian literatures, pp. 217–235.
Kiwan, N., Equal opportunities and republican revival: post-migrant politics in
contemporary France (2002–2005), pp. 157–172.
Laronde, M., ‘Effets d’Histoire’. Représenter l’Histoire coloniale forclose, pp. 139–155.
Laroussi, F., Unfinished business: Orientalism and Maghrebi literature in French,
pp. 271–284.
Lecerf, E., Les voies tordues de l’émancipation, pp. 121–138.
Marshall, B., New Orleans, nodal point of the French Atlantic, pp. 35–50.
Migraine-George, T., Swiss Trash: l’Autre Suisse de Dunia Miralles, pp. 173–191.
Mortimer, M., Domestic matters: representations of home in the writings of Mariama
Bâ, Calixthe Beyala and Aminata Sow Fall, pp. 67–83.
Munro, M., Listening to Caribbean history: music and rhythm in Daniel Maximin’s
L’Isolé soleil, pp. 393–405.
Parris, D., When French-Canadian literature freed itself from the tutelage of Paris,
pp. 425–432.
Rice, A., Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe, pp. 313–328.
Talbayev, E., Between nostalgia and desire: l’Ecole d’Alger’s transnational identifica-
tions and the case for a Mediterranean relation, pp. 359–376.
IJFS 10 (3) 477 © Intellect Ltd 2007 477

IJFS_10.3_11_Index.qxd 11/7/07 7:32 PM Page 478
International Journal of
Volume Ten Number Three

ISSN 1368-2679
International Journal of Francophone Studies | Volume Ten Number Three

Francophone Studies
Volume 10 Number 3 – 2007 10.3
307–311 Extending the boundaries of francophone postcolonial studies
Alec G. Hargreaves and Jean-Marc Moura
Articles International Journal of

313–328 Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe
329–344
Alison Rice
Before Malcolm X, Dessalines: a ‘French’ tradition of black Atlantic radicalism
Deborah Jenson Francophone
Studies
345–358 Don du français et parole (post) coloniale
Laurent Dubreuil
359–376 Between nostalgia and desire: l’Ecole d’Alger’s transnational identifications
and the case for a Mediterranean relation
Edwige Tamalet Talbayev
377–391 A descent into crime: explaining Mongo Beti’s last two novels
Pim Higginson
393–405 Listening to Caribbean history: music and rhythm in Daniel Maximin’s L’Isolé soleil
Martin Munro
407–424 Féminisme et postcolonialisme: Beauvoir, Fanon et la guerre d’Algérie
Annabelle Golay
Forum
425–432 When French-Canadian literature freed itself from the tutelage of Paris
David Parris
433–438 Post ou péricolonialisme: l’ étrange modèle québécois (notes)
Lise Gauvin
intellect Journals | Media & Culture

439–476 Book Reviews
477 Index
ISSN 1368-2679
10
intellect
9 771368 267008 www.intellectbooks.com
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International Journal of

Volume Ten Number Three

International Journal of Francophone Studies | Volume Ten Number Three

Articles International Journal of

intellect Journals | Media & Culture

9 771368 267008 www.intellectbooks.com

IJFS 10.3.indd 1 11/13/07 5:29:15 PM

International Journal of Founder and Editor

The International Journal of Francophone Studies (IJFS) is an acade- Deputy Editor

Bernard Aresu – Rice University, USA Tel: 44 (0) 1483 682823

Premiere bilingual journal in Francophone

Past Guest Editors

IJFS 10 (3) 306 © Intellect Ltd 2007 306

International Journal of Francophone Studies Volume 10 Number 3

IJFS 10 (3) 307–311 © Intellect Ltd 2007 307

308 Alec G. Hargreaves and Jean-Marc Moura

Editorial introduction. Extending the boundaries of francophone... 309

domination, may be seen the seeds of radical challenges to the binary

310 Alec G. Hargreaves and Jean-Marc Moura

Jean-Marc Moura is professor of Comparative Literature at the University Charles-

Editorial introduction. Extending the boundaries of francophone... 311

International Journal of Francophone Studies Volume 10 Number 3

Francophone postcolonialism from

IJFS 10 (3) 313–328 © Intellect Ltd 2007 313

314 Alison Rice

My analysis was conducted in French, which enabled me to ‘translate’ my

In later weekly contributions to the same radio station, Kristeva devoted

By underscoring her similarities to the Algerian-born author in this man-

Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe 315

316 Alison Rice

I speak here principally of the post-World War II Soviet expansion to

Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe 317

À l’inverse, la plupart des derniers États intégrés à la Communauté (la Pologne,

When Crépon reminds us that some European countries were in a position

318 Alison Rice

I left my country in part because Charles de Gaulle dreamed of a Europe that

Although I consider myself to be well assimilated into French culture, I think

It is important to note from Kristeva’s experience that even those foreign-

Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe 319

Indeed, a blanket application of the word postcolonial to all countries for-

The writers I have already mentioned, from Hungarian native Agota

320 Alison Rice

Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe 321

322 Alison Rice

Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe 323

324 Alison Rice

Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe 325

326 Alison Rice

Francophone postcolonialism from Eastern Europe 327

60. Milan Kundera, Svit, Brina (2003), Moreno, Paris: Gallimard.

328 Alison Rice

International Journal of Francophone Studies Volume 10 Number 3

Before Malcolm X, Dessalines: a ‘French’

Postcolonial history in theory and postcolonial theory in history

IJFS 10 (3) 329–344 © Intellect Ltd 2007 329

1. Frederick Cooper, colonization overseas into a critique of the Enlightenment, democracy, or

330 Deborah Jenson

Without taking into account Haitian revolutionary ‘theorizations’ of an

The enslaved revolutionaries challenged the racialized colonial system of the

Since postcolonial theory originally emerged partly as a contestation of

Before Malcolm X, Dessalines: a ‘French’ tradition of black Atlantic radicalism 331

332 Deborah Jenson

The politics of the proclamation