Clark Atlanta University

Carnival in Martinique
Author(s): Louis T. Achille
Reviewed work(s):
Source: Phylon (1940-1956), Vol. 4, No. 2 (2nd Qtr., 1943), pp. 121-129
Published by: Clark Atlanta University
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/271882 .
Accessed: 25/02/2013 10:36

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .
http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of
content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms
of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

Clark Atlanta University is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Phylon (1940-
1956).

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
 MARTINIQUE 121

iana was the impeachmentof Warmothand his party. Whateffectthe

deathof Dunnwill have in this regardis hardto see.... It may mean
thetriumphof the anti-Grant
party.
His speeches were always brief, though he spoke sensibly enough, and
withcommendable fluency.His deathwill be a severeshockto the Grant
partyin thatState.70
It may be easily seen then, why no Southerncritic of the politics of
the times ever makesany commenton Dunn. He is merelymentionedand
passed over. A revelationof his clear inside political life would prove
too much against the establishmentof anti-Negropolitical propaganda.
It definitelyrefutesthe generalSouthernattitudethatall Negropoliticians
were crooks,thieves, ignoramuses,and public plunderers.

By LOUIS T. ACHILLE

Carnivalin Martinique

"Mi mass! Mi mass!"' cries an excited child, calling the household

to windowsand balconies:Carnivalis here. On a sunnyafternoonof the
secondor third Sunday in January,the first masks appear on the streets
the capital of Martinique. On each Sunday until the
of Fort-de-France,
Jours Gras and Ash Wednesday, inclusive, a motley mob will parade the
streets in picturesquemerriment. The joyous instinct of the population
has thus modified the liturgical calendar, and anticipatesMardi-Gras
(Shrove Tuesday) with Lundi Gras, DimancheGras and even Samedi
Gras. Contraryto traditionin RomanCatholiccountries,but not without
reflectingsome of the religious significanceof the day, Ash Wednesday
will also have its masks, and on that day, Carnivalwill be buried with
full pomp and mourning.
The festivities are not, however,exclusively an outdoor affair. For
six to eight weeks, in the gay 1920's and '30's, when the writer partook
of the folk-customsdescribedhere, eachSaturdayand Sundaywas marked
by numerousprivate and public dances, in spacious colonial salons or
municipalball-rooms,in a numberof small crases,2or in the vast public
70The Louisville Courier-Journal,November alphabet,all letters being sounded.)
23, 1871. 2From the French ecraser (to crush): a
'In Creole patois: "Here are the masks." tiny dance hall packed with couples crushing
(N.B.: Throughoutthis article Creole pronun- each other in the dance.
ciation will be transcribedin standardFrench

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
122 PHYLON

dance-hallscalled casinos. Each one of the Jours Graswould end in what

we might well call "Nuits Grasses," where, according to local custom,
dances began at nine and lasted until five or six o'clock in the morning.
Vast quantitiesof food and beveragessuppliedthe fuel for this enormous
expense of energy. On the following afternoons,rogatonsgathered the
children ineligible for the night balls, in small dancing parties, where
were consumedthe remainingrefreshments.It was not rare for popular
young men and womento attendevery one of those night-longballs, from
Sanzedi-Gras to Mercredides Cendres,inclusive,taking advantageof the
five-day school recess. Followingthis spell, strictabstentionand, perhaps,
recovery from dancing mark the Lenten period, but for two liturgical
breakson St. Joseph'sFeast-dayand at Mid-Lent.
The societyballs often are masquerades.Socialitesthen appearin the
luxurious costumesof history and geography: Cleopatras,Marie-Antoi-
nettes, EmpressJosephines(a compatriot),Greekmaidens and Egyptian
slaves, Turkishsultanasand Japaneseprincesses,Neopolitanfisherwomen
and Alsatiangirls, etc. Classicalmythologysupplies an occasionalVenus
or Cupid, while Romanticismyields Musset'sMuse and a Starry Night.
Many a native "lady" also exchangesher formal Europeanevening-gown
for the picturesque and stately costume of her grand or great-grand
mother,generallyto considerableadvantage.
The public dance-hallsdraw upon the hundredsof maskswho parade
the streetsin the afternoons. Paradesand processionsare always popular
in a small countrywith traditionsof Roman Catholicismand universal
military service. Even the elections to the Paris Chamberand Senate
throwagainsteach otherprocessionsof fanaticalvoters,carryingburning
rosintorches,and singingnot the Marseillaiseor the Internationale,but a
home-madebiguine' lampooningpolitical opponents. After the election,
the victoriousparty marches,or dancesanew, to the standardrefrain
Bo fe-a, ,bo fe-a,
pa deputeenco;
Bo f-a,- , bo fe-a,
Yo m6te dewo.4
DuringLent, as a substitutefor the masking,lanternprocessionsare
organizedwith an aestheticand satiricalpurpose. Eachparticipantcarries
a lanternof the Venetiantype, rosintorch,or kerosenebottlewith a cotton
stopperlighted. In the paradetwo large types of structuresare noticeable;
'Martinique's national dance inadequately Propos," La Paix, a bi-weekly newspaper,
rendered by the well-known American tune Fort-de-France, Martinique, No. 1165, May 13,
Begin the Biguine. 1925; quoted by Coridun, Vol. V., with slight-
4"Kiss the blade, So-and-So, kiss the blade: ly different words and with musical transcrip-
So-and-So's in Congress no more; tion, in Le Carnaval de St. Pierre (Martin-
Kiss the blade, So-and-So, kiss the blade: ique), Fort-de-France, Imprimerie Illemay,
They put So-and-So out." 1930, 2nd edition. No pagination.
For origin of this song, see XXX: "Menus-

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
 MARTINIQUE 123

a serpentabout forty or fifty feet long, with a monstroushead made of

bamboolaths and coloredtransparentpaper with burningcandles inside,
and huge dummies,similarly built and lighted, fifteen to twenty feet in
height, made in the image of some outstandingpolitician or socialite,
the boi-boi. How those immenseinflammablestructuresare carried by a
jostling, dancingcrowd withoutburningis a mystery. At the end of the
celebration,serpentand dummiesare burned to music.
More artistic and costly are the special carnival cavalcades which
seldom go without some heavenly blessing in the form of a tropical
shower. Comparingfavorably with the once famed Carnaval de Nice
and the New Orleans Mardi-Gras,the motorizedcavalcades display a
fantasticabundanceof freshflowers:red, pink, whitecarnationsand roses,
multicoloreddahlias, hydrangeas,bougainvilliers,liane mexicaine, and
creeping muguet. A certain prize-winningfloat, an open automobile
dressedwith white roses and carnationsinto a large swan,will not easily
be forgottenfor its profusion of flowers and the CreoleBbeauties who
nestled in its fragrant "feathers."
II
The originalityof Carnivalis, however,contributedby the multitude
of masksthat filterinto the main arteriesfrom all partsof town. Who are
they?-They are house maids, working men and women, and a good
numberof studentsfrom the Lycee, youths in their teens, happy to cast
away the reserve of their class and perform all kinds of pranks, often
against some of their less well-likedprofessorsor repetiteurs. Few such
unpopulareducatorsand disciplinarianswill ventureout on those after-
noonsfor fear of revengefulstudents;neither will they even show their
heads on the balconiesof their respectablehomesfor puns and jokes will
fly at them from some unrecognizablelad.
The masks used are importedfrom France althoughseldom seem in
that country.They are made of papier mache,with holes for mouth,nose
and eyes, or of well-ventilatedwire, molded and paintedinto the shapeof
a humanface. Of the lattertype, LafcadioHearn,perhapsthe most sym-
patheticstudentof Martiniquecustomsand people, wrotein the late '80's
It struckme at oncethatthis peculiartype of wire maskgave an in-
describabletone of ghostlinessto the wholeexhibition.It is not in the
least comical; it is neithercomelynor ugly; it is colorlessas mist,-
expressionless,void, dead;-it lies on the face like a vapor,like a cloud,
-creating the idea of a spectralvacuitybehind.6
5The word "Creole"is here used with its absolutely,creole generally indicates a person
French West Indian meaning, which, by the of color born in the colony.
way, agrees with Portugueseetymology: born 6LafcadioHearn, Two Years in the French
in the colony. This term applies therefore,to West Indies, New York, Harper,1890, p. 211.
any native of any complexion.Differentiations
are indicated by the addition of qualifying
adjectives of color: e.g., blanc creole; used

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
124 PHYLON

None of these masks carries the slightest suggestion of Negroid faces:

their blank countenance is that of a dumb, rubicund white face, hence,
their greater fitness for the disguise of a people of color, although there
is in their use no attempt at ridiculing a race. The more costly and con-
ventional costumes call for the graceful black half-mask or domino.
The complicity of an indulgent mother will enable middle-class boys,
prompted by their budding virility, to go out and courir les masques (in
Creole, couri mass). Stealthily they will dress and come out, during their
father's siesta, in the garb of a Pierrot, Arlequin, or court jester. A
slender youth will don the fluffy dress of a Colombine and defy recogni-
tion. Again he may dress as a bat, with black webbed wings. Bands of
such sol-souri (from the French chauve-souris), with strident cries and
wide-open wings will roam over the streets, encircling and teasing attrac-
tive school girls. What a chance to frighten and hug the girl of one's
dreams, with impunity! Less dismal is the butterfly costume, actually a
colorful variety of the black bat. In groups, the papillons dance and sing,
flapping their wings to the rhythm of a biguine: Papillons, volez! Ce vole
moin ka vole (bis) (Fly, butterflies, fly!-That's flying I'm doing).
Older men, with a sense of humor, put on women's gowns ill-fitting
their athletic figures. A muscular he-man may wear babyish clothes.
Labelled with a tag "B6be" and sucking a large lemonade bottle, he totters
along, while a fellow student dressed as a nurse vainly tries to make
the precocious "baby" behave at the approach of pretty girls. A skinny,
lank lad will dress as a gouo femm (fat woman), with two pairs of pil-
lows where they belong. Another will display his sister's dress, while
wearing enormous football shoes.
Again, a man will dress backwards, so to speak, with his outer suit
on his skin and his underwear on top. Or, he will disguise himself "sale"
(dirty), with any old rags salvaged from the family attic. Then he can
freely have his fun, wallow in grotesque comedy and disgust his own
acquaintances who suspect him.
Seldom do middle-class women partake of the public travesty, except
in conventional costumes or in the native grand-rob or jupe.7 Unmasked,
they ride in open automobiles or visit friends' homes to gather compli-
ments.
III
Thus far there is little in the Martinique Carnival which is not of
European origin or very generally human. In great secrecy and with a
sense of blasphemy, some youths dare disguise themselves as diablotins,
in tight fitting, hooded cotton suits of the brightest red, covering the whole
"The contemporary grand-rob and more an-
cient jupe, native dress of Martinique women.

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
 MARTINIQUE 125

body, with two small tufted horns on the forehead and a long rope as a
tail, also coveredwith red cloth. They soon form a mischievousband,
threateninginnocentpassersby,hoping to come across their leader, the
big guiable (devil). As soon as they hear the devil's unmistakablecry,
they rushto join his court of imps
Bi-a, bi-a, bi, caiman,
Mi guiab-ladewo, caiman....
Horrible, satanic, comes the Devil, a powerfully built man in red
tights, bowing in various directionshis enormoushead-gear,flinging a
twelve-foottail or spinningit abovehis head, while his otherhand shakes
a red pursefull of tinklingcoins-the price of souls to be bought. On the
man's shouldersthe huge mask rests, a ball of bull's horns,ten to twelve
of them,curvedin all directionsand intermingledwith horsehair. Dozens
of bells and penny mirrors,multi-coloredpieces of brokenglass jingle
and twinklein the sun, as the head rolls roundin the dance.
Who is this man? None of the diablotinsmay know him. From the
popularsuburbsor distantcountryside,he descendson the townto gather
his followers in a mystic rendezvous. Superhumanphysical endurance,
the completeobliterationof humanfeatures but for two blood-shoteyes
gleamingthroughthe hairy mask like two live mirrors,the majestyof his
slow rolling dance, unfailing marksmanshipwhen he aims at a victim,
the power of his voice coming throughthe mouthlesshornedheaddress,
and the multipleglass piece shootingsunbeamslike so many fire-throwing
eyes, all of this soon establisheshis dominionover the spell-boundyouths.
His anonymitygains mysteryfrom the powerfulsmell of humanperspira-
tion whichspreadsfrom his costumenow wet at all joints: a smell of the
distant plantationsor the sun-drencheddocks, where the exhalationsof
the freshly-ploughedearth or the drying sea-weedsmingle with the in-
ebriatingodor of tafia; a smell of labor and race, whichgives seriousness
to the game and vast human significanceto the "devil."
Within the magic circle red figures whirl, hopping twice on each
foot and flourishingtheir tails. As some child passes, the guiab asks for
its soul. Towardsthe screamingvictim the chorus of imps starts, while
the child seeks refuge in the skirtof its maid
Guiab-laka mandean ti manmaille
An ti manmaille qui ni trois an.l'
Of course, the child, sufficientlyfrightened, is never broughtback, and
the imps returnto offer themselvesto the lashing of the devil's tail. The
tentacle,weightedat its end, winds aroundthe neck or leg of the boys.
The imps thus struckyell as if possessed,and the parade goes on.
8Bi-a, bi-a, bi, cayman ("Here's the Devil ?0"The devil asks for a little child-A lit-
on the streets, cayman"). tie three-year-old child."
9Crude colorless rum.

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
126 PHYLON

Oncethis writer saw the devil turn human and stop at a poor home
on a ratherdesertedstreet for a "shot" of tafia. In front of the gazing
diablotinshe removedhis head-gear,only to look still more foreign: his
dark face glistened with perspirationin the afternoonsun, full of tri-
umphantjoy and inspiringgreater reverencestill than did the frightful
mask. He appearedas a supermanfrom the back country, filled with
forces unknownto the urban youths. At one gulp, the thirsty leader
emptiedthe glass of tafia; he beamedwith satisfactionas he swallowed
vast quantitiesof water. The imps imitatedhim, wettingthe lips of their
hoods as they drank:for the rest of the parade, they would be inhaling
the spirits of rum as they danced.
Let one devil meet anotheron the streets,and watchthe duel of lasso-
tails, of sun-beamsreflectedby the moving mirrors! Around them the
diablotinschant,pranceand mix their ranks,as the devils challengeeach
other. But all knowthat two devils are an impossibility. As if refusing
to share their power and disillusion the public, the devils soon part,
leading away their several followers, each to establish his undisputed
monarchyon some other street.
IV
From such infernal sights, the spectatorsneed relief. It comes, in the
form of a spirited biguine with green sprays of sugar-cane leaves and
multicolored figures of dancing farm-hands. These are the coupeuses de
cannes (female cane-cutters). From the waist down they are in perpetual
motion: the smooth roll of the biguine is amplified by their skirts short-
ened to the knees and the richly embroidered white petticoats showing
below. The typical bacoua straw hat of the peasants rests on their head-
kerchiefs. With a safe wooden machete, they pretend to cut the long knotty
stalk of the cane whose leafy fan sways to the biguine. The asphalt street
becomes the scene of a romanticized plantation drama.
The regisseur (overseer) moves around the group giving orders which
are immediately set to music and drum beat by the cheerer. From one
furrow to another line the cane-cutters move on; so do the tendergreen
leaves overhead: the sugar-cane fields rhythmically biguine down the
street. Suddenly a snake-like form shoots through the air in the midst of
screams: "Sepen! Sepen!" (A snake!) A ring is formed around the
sinuous beast, and a few sturdy women step forward with uplifted machetes
to chop the deadly trigonocephalus to pieces. At least they pretend to do
so, for the monster is made of cloth and will be needed for the next act
further down the street if full balconies announce a good money collection.
Soon again the reassured cane-cuttersresume their dance and work.
Sedate and official-looking with field-glasses, measuring chains, stakes
and note-book, thq surveying employees come to verify the alignment of
houses and satirize the municipal building regulations. "Ou-ausse!"
(Up!) cries the surveyor, and the stake-bearerslower the chain. "Baissez!"

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
 MARTINIQUE 127

(Down!) and up goes the chain. The despairingcivil servantthreatens

to dismiss the ignorant employees and sue the whole laughing public.
One'shouse had betterrange evenly with the street, or the law-enforcing
officerswill exhausttheir strengthtrying to push or pull it in line. If it
resists,the ownerwill be fined and all his guestson the balcony.
The suddenappearanceof a completelyblack and shiny lad, stripped
to trunks,gambolingaroundand grinningwith all his teeth often shifts
the attentionof the crowd from the white-cladsurveyor. Othersaccom-
pany him and will hug one if he dares to wear an immaculatewhite suit.
Mulattoes,beware! The neg gouo siro are coveredwith sticky molasses.
One always escapes,thoughnarrowlyat times; and the youths gatherto-
getherfor a display of acrobatics. Here they form a pyramid of living
ebony!
"Boeuf Mardi-Gras!" As the Carnival period approachesits end,
Shrove Tuesday brings out the traditional fat calf. A live and rather
docile ox, decoratedwith ribbonsand controlledby leading-strings,used
to be paradedover the city on the eve of the lean Lentenseason. With
the adventof the automobileand for some other reasons,the ox has been
replaced by a man who wears the animal's main attributes,a pair of
imposinghorns. The beast-oxwas hardly allowedany rope; but the man-
ox easily overpowershis apparentlyresisting guides to run up to some
prettygirl, only to bow and curtseyto her.
From the balconies which line the streets, large families and their
guests watchthe various scenes, the fanciful creationsof a people given
to sheer fun and laughterwhile Carnivallasts, incapableof taking a step
which is not a dance-step,apt in handlingthe grotesque,the satirical, the
witty, the humorous,heirs to two traditionsof comedy, the African and
the French. But everyoneis really waitingfor the vide, the native "dance-
blitz," we would say in 1943.
At Pont-Cartouche, half-way up the steep hill of Le Calvaire which
overlooksFort-de-France, a milling crowdgathersaroundsix in the eve-
ning. Rue Schoelcher and La Levee1 are gradually drained of their
masks. The expectant,undisguisedspectatorson the streets seek refuge
from the coming human avalancheon door-stepsand window-sills.Then
powerfulband-musicburstsout of old Casinodes Freres Loulou at Pont-
Cartouchedominatedby the syncopatedlaughter of the trombones.The
vide is on its way. The populardance-hallemptiesitself down Sue Schoel-
cherin a torrentof dancingmasks.Severalnativebandsblast the new Car-
nival songs,carryingthemdownwith clarinets,'cellos, trombones,violins;
and the wild chorusof hundredsof voices joins in. Ahead of the vide, far
enoughto escape its powerful impetus,diablotins,night-batsand butter-
lTwo of Fort-de-France's main streets, the streams which help to make an island of the
second (The Levy) being a popular boulevard capital city.
built to dam in the occasionally torrential

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
128 PHYLON

flies, neg gouo siro and Pierrots, court-jesters, and gouo-femm, together
with a multitude of unmasked urchins, form a frolicking vanguard, jump-
ing, running, somersaulting, capering in utter acrobatic fancy. The mass
thickens with the coupeuses de cannes, the guiables and other adult masks
dancing along. Then come the bands, sending their heart-beats through
this crowd united by the rhythm of the biguine. Overhead towers the
boi-boi, dressed, it seems, in the very clothes of some well-known man or
woman. More and more masks follow, skipping along, an ever-increasing
rear-guard swollen at each intersection by late-comers pouring in from
tributary streets.
The vide will make only one stop in its wild dancing march, in front
of the house where lives the boi-boi's original. This meeting of dummy
and celebrity is a hard test of the latter's sense of humor and humility.
Then the procession resumes its course towards the other vast public dance-
hall, the Select Tango, where the bands sit down and the masks fall to
biguines, one-steps, fox-trots, bombe-sere,l2mazurkas and waltzes, lemon-
ades, beer, sangliche epi ze-di,3 punch creole,l4 ti-sec,1 I'an-ni dou,l0 im-
ported liqueurs, wines and champagne. The evening blends into the night
and the night wears into the dawn: the dance goes on with little respite, but
for a few intermissions when romantic conquests are pursued or consum-
mated and when the black-out lan nuite (lights out), which serves the same
purpose, is announced. Lan nuite is introduced during a certain mazurka
and lasts as long as the long-winded clarinet player holds a high-pitched
note, which holds no one in idle suspense. With the break of dawn,
"Madiana" is played at an increasing tempo, for a good half-hour, while
the whole building shakes
Woi, Madiana, jou-a ka ouve, laguie moin
Jou-a ka ouve laguie moin
Pou moin aller kai manman moin.m7
V
On Mercredi des Cendres the deadline for dances is midnight by the
clock, which may well not be by the sun. Then it is a crowd in mourning
which fills the bal doudou,18for the last day of the festive season is de-
voted to the burial of Carnival.

12A bumping and squeezing dance with no
aesthetic purpose.
13In French: sandwiches et puis oeufs
durs (sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs).
14Martinique's national strong drink, made
of rum, syrup and the rind of a small lime, if
white rum is used.
15A "shot" of dry rum.
16A liqueur made with anise.
17"Ho! Madiana, it's day-break, let me go;
It's day-break, let me go;
For I must go back to-my mother's
house."
(See an older version with music in Cori-
dun, Vol. V., op. cit.)
"sAnother name for casino, the dance-hall
where one takes one's doudou ("girl friend"
in popular classes).

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
 MARTINIQUE 129

During the afternoon no more colorful masks are seen; la guiablesse'9

uniformly fill the streets, women mourning in black and white attire,
lamenting Vaval's20passing, striking their breasts, or flourishing a formal
death-notice. Over their desolate wailing is heard a din, as of funerary
cymbals: the guiablesses beat Carnival's death-knell on an old tin can or
drag one behind them.
Where are the men? Both sexes wear the same female uniform, a
macabre but unique sight: a black native dress, with white napkins tied
as bonnets, neck-kerchiefs and waist-bands. Stockings, shoes and gloves
preserve the black and white scheme. No more rubicund masks, but
wheat-flour, a variation of Wednesday's ashes, covers the faces beyond
recognition. In a carefully hidden bag, reserves of flour are kept in order
to replace what perspiration will have washed away, or to "ash" the
clean-faced passers-by.
Cleverly blending the spirit of Carnival and parodies of sorrow over
its ending, the masks succeed in making this grotesque celebration the
climax of a season of comedy. However, the mourners all wait for the
final vide. As usual, the parade forms up Pont-Cartouche,as the lamenta-
tions subside. Carnival breathes its last breath in a thunder of music.
A shrill prelude of the clarinet gives the start and the vide rushes out and
down the sloping street in rhythmic convulsions. All the new songs of the
year are heard. "Madiana" recurs often, yelled in a frenzy, as every
mask uses up his or her whole energy that day, in a farewell to song,
comedy and the dance. Waves of guiablesse with arms interlocked roll
by, in a bouncing charge. The bands are carried by their force. Frolick-
ing guiablesse boys spurt like spray. The tide moves on to the casino,
like a black flood dotted with a thousand white caps. Once inside the hall
it eddies with a multitude of biguines, while overhead the trombones
cascade their cachinnation. Carnival passes out as it had lived, with dance
and laughter.
Three times in this half-century or so, Carnival died without rising
again the following year: 1903 saw no masks, after the annihilation of
Saint-Pierre by La Pelee's volcanic eruption in 1902. The years 1914 to
1919 were a period of trials and grief. Since June, 1940, the island has
been silently sharing in the national calamity. Twice Carnival survived
the death-dealing convulsions of nature and society, after a short eclipse.
Carnival will rise again in Martinique to celebrate the return of freedom
and peace. Who knows, however, what mask, what costume it will wear?

l9The deviless. This particular celebration
and the costume used seem to have nothing
in common with the devil described above.
20Pet name for Carnaval. Most Christian
names in Martinique are replaced by pet
names among intimates, by doubling the final
syllable of the name, often with a slight
phonetic modification.

This content downloaded on Mon, 25 Feb 2013 10:36:29 AM

All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions