A stunning work of fiction that brings us deep into the intertwined lives of a small seaside town where a little girl, the daughter of a fisherman, has gone missing.
From the best-selling author of Brother, I'm Dying and The Dew Breaker: a stunning new work of fiction that brings us deep into the intertwined lives of a small seaside town where a little girl, the daughter of a fisherman, has gone missing.
Claire Limyè Lanmè - Claire of the Sea Light - is an enchanting child born into love and tragedy in Ville Rose, Haiti. Claire's mother died in childbirth, and on each of her birthdays Claire is taken by her father, Nozias, to visit her mother's grave. Nozias wonders if he should give away his young daughter to a local shopkeeper, who lost a child of her own, so that Claire can have a better life.
But on the night of Claire's seventh birthday, when at last he makes the wrenching decision to do so, she disappears. As Nozias and others look for her, painful secrets, haunting memories, and startling truths are unearthed among the community of men and women whose individual stories connect to Claire, to her parents, and to the town itself. Told with piercing lyricism and the economy of a fable, Claire of the Sea Light is a tightly woven, breathtaking tapestry that explores what it means to be a parent, child, neighbor, lover, and friend, while revealing the mysterious bonds we share with the natural world and with one another. Embracing the magic and heartbreak of ordinary life, it is Edwidge Danticat's most spellbinding, astonishing book yet.
Edwidge Danticat is a Haitian American novelist and short story writer. Her first novel, Breath, Eyes, Memory, was published in 1994 and went on to become an Oprah's Book Club selection. Danticat has since written or edited several books and has been the recipient of many awards and honors. Her work has dealt with themes of national identity, mother-daughter relationships, and diasporic politics. In 2023, she was named the Wun Tsun Tam Mellon Professor of the Humanities in the department of African American and African Diaspora Studies at Columbia University.
I confess. I picked this book simply because I fell in love with the cover. No other reason. Luckily, the pages inside match the cover's beauty, and now I have a new author to love, so I guess my shallow selection criteria paid off this time. ;)
Nozias is a fisherman who lost his beloved wife during the birth of their child, Claire Limyè Lanmè, or “Claire of the Sea Light”. As she’s getting older, he’s struggling to provide and be present for her. Though he loves her deeply, he’s entertaining the idea of letting the wealthy local shopkeeper, who lost her own daughter, take her in and raise her, thinking she’ll have a better life. On the eve of her seventh birthday, when Nozias finally commits to his plan, Claire goes missing. What follows is not only the villagers’ search for her, but also many of their own stories, each with their own fascinating histories to explore.
This is lovely, lovely writing. Set in Haiti in the fictional town of Ville Rose, author Edwidge Danticat’s village by the sea contains a cast of flawed characters that span the economic and social status range, yet all are sympathetically portrayed, and my heart felt for each one of them. When events - both good and bad - happen, there's a backstory to each individual that humanizes what brought them to that decision or act. These are fully-rounded characters shaped by joys, tragedies and everything in between, and their diverse stories interweave so nicely into one cohesive narrative.
What begins as an emotional story about Nozias and Claire, travels over the remaining chapters like a boat, navigating the depths and shallows of fellow villagers' lives, interconnected with each other in a myriad of interesting or surprising ways, and ultimately making the journey round trip. It's a quiet, poetically beautiful story with a touch of magical realism, and a quick read at only 238 pages. It won't dazzle you with anything flashy and it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but if you just want a gentle piece of writing that reminds you of what it means to be human, in all our complexity, this is definitely worth your time.
Claire of the Sea Light is as much about the intersection of the lives of a group of Haitians of different social standings, as it is an exercise in the art of storytelling. The elements and characters of the story fit creatively together in a refreshingly non-conventional fashion. It’s a pleasure to read the spirit of love and the care that Danticat infuses into the language of Claire. The essence of what made her non-fiction works shine is present here.
The realism of Danticat’s writing gives the narrative a greater authenticity than mere fiction. Almost as if the contents of this book were pieced together through eavesdropping on the homes and lives of real life individuals. Its subtlety and understated styling allows for the emotional components to slowly lure the reader into a state of empathy, and even worry for the fate of those depicted. With the dire nature of some of the plot points, it would be fair to classify Claire as a somewhat somber experience. Or better put, a voyeuristic examination of the ticks, flaws, trials and tribulation of human beings; human beings who happen to reside in Haiti.
Thinking back to the abridged version of this story in the anthology Haiti Noir (2010), I simply expected an expanded tale of the life of Claire Limye Lanme Faustin and her parents with the novel. This book is about so much more than that. One of the most amazing aspects of Edwidge Danticat as a writer is how she is able to continuously write about Haiti and never tell the same story twice. Of her works, the memoirs have impressed me the most (After the Dance, Brother, I’m Dying and Create Dangerously) but Claire of the Sea Light is arguably this author’s finest creation.
I thought Claire of the Sea Light offered an interesting opportunity to get glimpses of the different characters' lives, but the book just felt disjointed overall and most of the storylines felt underdeveloped by the book's end - I thought they would at least tie in more together once I reached the end but that wasn't the case. I also thought with the book's title being what it was, that Claire (or at the very least, Nozias and/or Claire's mother) would tie in (either literally or figuratively) to the other stories in some significant, non-fleeting way. Instead, some stories felt more randomly placed to me and it left me wondering why Danticat even chose to title the book as she did. I adore Edwidge and have read everything she's published. That's why it deeply pains me to say that this book was a letdown for me and probably my least favorite of hers.
In the decade since Edwidge Danticat published her last novel, “The Dew Breaker,” Haiti has been drowned by hurricanes and shaken by earthquakes. At each cataclysmic crisis, the plight of her homeland dominated the world’s attention and then quickly faded into the background radiation of suffering that passes through most of us unnoticed.
For someone born in Port-au-Prince, the temptation to rage at the public’s fickle concern must be immense. But in her rich new novel, “Claire of the Sea Light,” Danticat continues, as she always has, to speak in a captivating whisper. While disasters threaten to reduce the Haitian people to an undifferentiated mass of misery, her work pushes back, clearing space for individuals, restoring the variegated colors of humanity that storms and death and our own compassion fatigue would wash away.
Two of the chapters in this trim novel were previously published in the New Yorker, and along with the other six they resemble the exquisite short stories that earned Danticat the Story Prize in 2004. But even though these chapters often reach in different directions and sometimes concern different groups of characters, “Claire of the Sea Light” remains a novel, a carefully integrated collection of episodes that build on one another, enriching our understanding of a small Haitian town and the complicated community of poor and wealthy, young and old, who call it home.
Time is a slippery surface in this book. From the first page to the last covers only a single day, but Danticat constantly dips into the past to illuminate the recurring coincidence of life and death among these people. We meet Claire Limyè Lanmè Faustin in 2009 on her seventh birthday — and the seventh anniversary of her mother’s death. Each year on this day, she and her father leave their single-room shack to visit the cemetery. And each year on this day, the fabric vendor who wet-nursed Claire arrives to see if the time is right to finally take her away. It’s a ritual fraught with hope and dread, a father’s affection torn between the desire to keep his daughter close or to give her a better life.
Danticat is no magical realist — the peculiarities of this gorgeous, gruesome place are magic enough — but she builds her novel around the uncanny tragedies that accumulate on the anniversary of Claire’s birth. The girl has long known that “her birthday was also a day of death.” The fabric vendor lost her only daughter in a traffic accident on the day Claire turned 4, and in other years other characters are snuffed out on this special day.
In the opening paragraph, “a freak wave, measuring between ten and twelve feet high, was seen in the ocean outside of Ville Rose.” Claire’s father sees “a wall of water rise from the depths of the ocean, a giant blue-green tongue, trying, it seemed, to lick a pink sky.” A fellow fisherman is swept out to sea. Amid the commotion of searching and mourning, Claire darts into the night, hoping to thwart her father’s decision to give her away.
At that perilous moment, the novel rotates away from Claire and her father to explore the lives of their neighbors in town. It seems at first like too much to ask, like a violation of our emotional investment in this precious little girl, but Danticat is a writer you can trust. The apparently disparate parts of the story eventually knit together in surprising ways that seem utterly right.
Many of these characters have some connection to the local radio station, which serves as a public forum for a community torn by violence and inequity. A young man dreams of producing a program that would invite rival gangs to talk out their differences on air, but those forces are more dangerous than he imagines. Another woman uses her show to let people vent complaints against their enemies and employers, but how satisfying are such public acts of revenge?
One of Danticat’s most entrancing talents is her ability to capture conflicted feelings with a kind of aching sympathy. In a chapter about the fabric vendor’s grief, for instance, she writes, “Her losses had not made her stronger; they had made her weak. . . . She didn’t want to continue being weak, but she didn’t want to die either. She was too eager to see what would come next, what her husband and daughter had missed. She was both hungry for life and terrified of it.”
Those tightly wound threats of hunger and terror, delight and dread, vibrate through these pages. In one touching moment, for instance, Claire’s father first hears that his wife is pregnant: “He was a bit sad, and his sadness, mingled with intense joy, made him hold her tight again. How does life itself, as much as you must want it in your body, not feel futile when you have seen so many dead?”
All of Danticat’s characters confront that spiritual conundrum. The headmaster at the village thinks, “Life had become so cheap that you could give anyone a few dollars to snuff if out,” and yet he persists, determined to teach these children in a carefully maintained atmosphere of respect and order. Meanwhile, in a chapter of studied subtlety, the headmaster’s adult son struggles to reconcile his sexuality with others’ expectations, a predicament that inspires him to commit a beastly crime to prove his normalcy.
Danticat has perfected a style of extraordinary restraint and dignity that can convey tremendous emotional impact. But in celebration of Claire, the life force of this novel, she delivers a kind of incantation that repels the rising tide of despair among these poor people. Hearing villagers searching for the little girl on the night of her birthday, the headmaster’s distraught son can’t help but feel inspired: “The name was as buoyant as it sounded. It was the kind of name that you said with love, that you whispered in your woman’s ears the night before your child was born. It was the kind of name you could easily carry in your dreams, in your mouth, the kind of name that made you clap your hands against your chest when you heard it being shouted out of so many mouths. It was the kind of name you might find in poems or love letters, or songs. It was a love name and not a revenge name. It was the kind of name that you could call out with hope. It was the kind of name that had the power to make the sun rise.”
That’s a tall order for a name — or a novel. But it’s not beyond Danticat’s power.
3.5 Love the title of this book and the cover, even though I read it on my kindle I can see the cover on this site. This book was like a circular maze, where the prize is in the middle and you just follow in circular movements. It starts with a young seven yr. old Claire going missing from her village and home. This is not a linear book so after this we learn about the villagers that make up this town called Ville Rose. At one point when they switched to a new story I thought to myself, what does this have to do with anything, but shortly thereafter it all came clear.
We do not learn very much about the political situation in Haiti, as this is a character driven novel, with the town being one of the characters. We only learn about things in a wider view when they effect either a villager or the town, such as the gangs that prevailed at the time. Claire's mother died when she was born, in Haiti this made Claire a revenant. The characterizations are fantastically presented, one learns many things that happened before Claire was born, things that would effect Claire later. We learn about Claire's mother just from the viewpoints of the other characters. The language of the novel sometime reads almost like poetry, so many of the phrases are just beautiful, like those describing the ocean.
There are no great action scenes, this is a quiet but poignant novel. I have never read Danticat before, but I am anxious now to do so.
Break my heart, Edwidge Danticat. Claire of the Sea Light is a heartrending and sorrowful masterpiece of everyday Haitian life. Centered around the mysterious disappearance of Claire, an enigmatic 7 year old, the novel is actually a collection of vignettes centered on the inhabitants of the seaside town in which they all reside.
All stories, ranging from Claire's father Nozias' arrangement of giving Claire to be raised by a family friend; the flashbacks and memories of her deceased mother; a local radio DJ and teacher slapped by an angry parent for reprimanding her student; the tragic story of the violence and gangs of Ville Rose, are all stand-alone but interconnected and woven throughout with Claire as its donee, and focus of innocence, light and love.
It's Ms. Danticat at her most moving and loving, and gorgeously rendered.
Claire of the Sea Light is the type of unforgettable novel that pulls at the heartstrings and produces an almost unbearable degree of searing emotion. Claire Limye Lanme Faustin is the title character, and she is, of course, focal to the narrative, but she also serves as the lightning rod from which multiple storylines are illuminated. Each of these tales has a rhapsodic quality, full of pain and brimming with enchantment. Danticat examines an array of complex characters from the town of Ville Rose in Haiti, and she gives us a magnificent tapestry of lives, all of them haunted by suffering and struggle. The connectivity of these wounded souls feels like a human mosaic of experiences that range from love and grief to betrayal and redemption. The lovely, poetic quality of Danticat’s prose is nothing short of mesmerizing. She brings to life a spellbinding place in Haiti, steeped in tragedy, reliant on hope, always full of compassion.
Although I much preferred the more complex and historically significant novel by Danticat, The Farming of Bones, I still found myself transported to scenes I’d read in this one while washing dishes or brushing my teeth. The structure here is of multiple perspectives from a small, Haitian town, creating a quiet kind of sad. Her writing is sensual and alluring.
A beautiful book with beautiful characters, beautifully written.
The format is more short story than 'novel', but this approach adds to its individuality. The same story is frequently told from multiple viewpoints. Part of the joy of reading this book for me was following the threads of the different perspectives.
Set in the island-town of Ville Rose, Haiti, it narrates the story of the disappearance of a seven-year-old girl, Claire Limyè Lanmè Faustin, and of the memories of an entire townspeople that are brought to life in the wake of her disappearance. In the words of Guardian reviewer Kamila Shamsie, "Danticat shows us a town scarred by violence, corruption, class disparities and social taboo, which is also a town of hope, dreams, love and sensuality. But these are enmeshed rather than opposing elements. Love leads to violence, dreams lead to corruption." (Wikipedia Entry for Book)
I have a special love for Haiti. My church has a group, Hearts Out to Haiti, that raises money, builds schools and churches and conducts a yearly summer Bible study. While living, it was my mother's favorite charity.
I was so touched by this book, I cried. If you want to be touched by a book, please read this offering.
Ok let's make the book into a movie as soon as possible. Claire of the Sea Light should be played by Quvenzhane Wallis from Beast of the Southern Wild, and her father Nozias, should be played by Dwight Henry from Beast of the Southern Wild or better yet Forest Whitaker. I see Viola Davis as Gaelle, the shop keeper that Nozias wants to give his daughter to so that she will have a better life. I can just imagine what a beautiful picture this would be. I expected this book to be about what happened to Claire when she runs off on the day she is to be given to Gaelle, instead the story turns out to be about the towns people themselves. Events happen in the past , and the mysteries behind them are discovered in the present time. We feel like we are peering at the characters through windows or closed doors and finding out all the things they never wanted to hear as town gossip. I had started many of Edwidge's books before, but never read them to completion. Reading this book makes me want to go back to her first book in order to familiarize myself with the writing of this magical author.
I was really looking forward to Claire of the Sea Light because I am always interested in works that bring far-off places and cultures that I will probably never have the opportunity to visit to life. And while Danticat did provide a look inside the culture of Haiti, the constant changes of character perspectives and reversals in the timeline of the story made it difficult for me to ever connect with any of the characters. In fact, the Claire of the title may be the least important or interesting character of them all. Claire of the Sea Light felt like a collection of short stories that are stitched together with clever little ties, but ultimately I became disinterested in all of the characters and their stories. Danticat simply didn't provide anyone to root for. While there is nothing flagrantly wrong with the book, there really isn't a compelling reason to recommend it either. Frankly, I was pretty disappointed.
“So much had fallen into the sea. Hats fell in to the sea. Hearts fell into the sea. So much had fallen into the sea” ― Edwidge Danticat, Claire of the Sea Light
This was the first book I read by this author and I read it quite a long time ago but never forgot it. I had been living in another state and was missing my family and friends so I went browsing and found some unique books. This was one of them.
Claire of the Sea Light tells a poignant story of a small girl who goes missing from a Fishermans village. It is a pretty short read and beautifully written.
I read some of the other reviews and ratings are all over the place. I think I'd give this a four as it was a hauntingly bittersweet little book and quite worth reading.
I will admit it was difficult to get into at first but I stayed with it and that changed. I would recommend this to people as the writing was delightful and once you are immersed you will likely stay w it h it.
Edwidge Danticat has always been a writer of powerful beauty, but here, she surpasses herself. At the center of this luminous novel is Claire, and through interlocking stories concerning her, her father Nozias, and the other inhabitants of a small fishing village 28 miles from Port au Prince, she presents a vivid portrait of a community and its insularity. Employing creole patois and sensual visual detail, the land comes to life for a reader who has never visited Haiti. She carefully lays out the chronology, so that events occurring 10 years in the past which have repercussions are clear.
I was reminded somewhat of the 2012 movie, Beasts of the Southern Wild --Claire and Nozias are not Hushpuppy and her father, but both stories beautifully display an extreme closeness between fathers and their enchanting daughters and the desire to maintain traditional values in a threatened community. The present day of the novel is 2009, one year before the devastating earthquake that ruptured Haiti. The reader can only fear what became of these characters at that time.
It is the seventh birthday of Claire Limye Lanme Faustin whose name means "Claire of the Sea Light" in Creole. Her birthday is also a day of death since Claire's mother died in childbirth, and her father brings her to the cemetery every year. On the morning of her seventh birthday, a huge wave overturned a fishing boat, and her father's good friend was lost in the sea.
On her birthday, Claire's impoverished father has been asking Madame Gaelle, a wealthy widow who is mourning her young daughter's death, to adopt Claire so she could have a better life. This year, Madame Gaelle agreed, and Claire ran away. Before returning to Claire's seventh birthday in the last chapter, the book then weaves in stories about other residents of Ville Rose, a Haitian seaside village. Some of the stories are about poverty, gang violence, corrupt police, parenting, and terrible personal loss. The book also shows the spirit of the people where struggling villagers help each other.
The sea is also a character with a split personality. "The sea was both hostile and docile, the ultimate trickster....You could scatter both ashes and flowers in it. You could take as much as you wanted from it. But it too could take back. You could make love in it and you could surrender to it, and oddly enough, surrendering at sea felt somewhat like surrendering on land, taking a deep breath and simply letting go. You could just as easily lie down in the sea as you might in the woods, and simply fall asleep."
Claire seems to be a hope for the future, a lovely young girl running on the beach. She has intelligence and sensitivity toward others. During her pregnancy, Claire's mother thought of the name "Claire of the Sea Light" when she saw flickering flashlights from an abandoned lighthouse. The light motif is used throughout the book--lights paying tribute to a drowned fisherman, stars in the sky, lightening from a storm, flickering flashlights, bonfires, and the lights of the people searching for Claire.
Edwidge Danticat's writing, sprinkled with Creole, is gorgeous. The book has interesting characters whose problems will haunt the reader. It has its dark moments, but the book also shows love, humor, and hope for the next generation. I look foreward to reading more by this author.
This book is the story of a community and its inhabitants. Ville Rose, Haiti, is a small fictional town located about twenty miles from Port au Prince. It reads like a series of short stories, bookended by the tale of Claire and her father. Claire’s mother died when she was born. Her father is a poor fisherman who has asked the local fabric vendor to adopt his daughter. It is a story of community, class, and corruption.
Due to its beautiful title, I thought the book would be more about Claire, but she is only one of many characters. The other stories are only loosely connected, which makes the narrative feel fragmented. It is told in a non-linear manner. The writing is elegant. Danticat employs vivid images of darkness and light, life and death, and growth and decay, which are effective in conveying mood. I liked this book enough to read another of Danticat’s works.
Grief and its effects on an impoverished Haitian fishing village.
On the morning of Claire Limyè Lanmè Faustin’s 7th birthday, a freak wave sweeps a local fisherman away. Claire’s father, Nozias, is also a fisherman, and her mother died giving her birth, so the sea poses a grave threat to this diminished family. Nozias decides it is time to seek a better life, which entails giving Claire up for adoption to bereaved Mme Gaëlle. Yet Claire, as cheerful but elusive as her middle names (“sea light”) indicate, runs away before the exchange takes place, leaving Nozias and Mme Gaëlle to ponder all that they and the other townspeople have suffered.
Looping back through a decade of Ville Rose’s history, Danticat reveals all the fragile and tragic links between ordinary people: Albert Vincent, town undertaker and mayor; Claire’s mother, a country mourner who washed the dead until she became desperate for a child; Bernard Dorien, a trainee police officer and amateur radio presenter who got caught up in gang violence; and Max Ardin, Bernard’s best friend, who after ten years in Miami returns to Haiti to own up to his mistakes.
Almost like short stories, the individual chapters are vignettes linked by themes of parenthood, love and loss, birthdays and dying days, with the town’s radio station and seaside scenery providing common ground. Both inspiring and melancholy, Claire of the Sea Light is a beautifully written elegy for all that is lost.
This is an intoxicating weave of vignettes, populated by an endearing cast of characters. And there is no single protagonist either; they are all so important to this tale.
Perhaps the protagonist here is Haiti herself.
Claire Limyè Lanmè—Creole for Claire of the Sea Light—certainly draws you into her world so much that you are tempted to think of her as just that protagonist. But so many other significant souls swim by the reader that it becomes clear that she inhabits a world owned by many others, living and dead, who are as important as is Claire. And Claire is important.
Edwidge Danticat is a writer who is new to me. So this is the only book of hers that I my speak with any familiarity. But her prose here has certainly caught me in her net.
That prose language and the storytelling style here seems at first simply (and only) a lyrical and melodious treat, with a common linear and prosaic form—-however pleasant the rhythms. But soon enough we discover that more is happening. This is a series of vignettes; and more vignettes and personalities are brought into the constantly expanding storyline. The vignettes occur in the past, then the more distant past, then the near future. Then they return to the present in different locations—and back and forth—in loops and circles—again and again. Older characters interact with newer characters. Older events are seen from newer eyes. And newer, equally important, characters are brought into the weave. And earlier characters and events are never forgotten; but enriched.
All of this is occurring in less than 238 pages.
And the sweet, lyrical prose continues to caress the reader and enter into the souls of the characters. And we, the readers, are introduced to a corner of Haiti—-as poor and difficult as we suspected--and as hard and brutal--but more profound and endearing than we knew.
So much happens; so many souls evolve, are damaged, remain the same, are changed irrevocably, and learn themselves--or do not.
Haiti endures and abides. And we get to know her better.
This book reminded me that I need to read more Caribbean literature (Any suggestions? I'm open). It was my third Goodreads book club read this month and I might just get used to this book club thing.
Claire Limyè Lanmè. Each time narration entertainer Robin Miles said her name on my audiobook, I was entranced. It was a great experience, hearing French Creole sprinkled throughout the prose, with the distinguished storytelling seeming to illuminate the setting.
At first the story seemed to be about Claire, the little girl whose mother died during childbirth, leaving her fisherman father to raise her. The story is interesting, as it immediately delves into backstory and you get to meet Claire's enchanting mother.
The overall arc however, seemed to be structured like fragmented pieces about the intersecting lives of villagers, with much drama interweaved. Claire is at the beginning of the story, and then she is taken away until towards the ending--which frankly, the ending didn't seem as fulfilling, given the suspenseful beginning.
I liked how the many sub-plotted stories and the vibrant characters seemed to reveal subtleties about the setting and culture of the locale. As the saying goes, fiction is about emotional truth.
While Danticat is a talented writer, I confess to being lost at sea on the acclaim that this one has received.
This novel is as broken as the disparate lives within it: Danticat delivers a series of vignettes that never seem to quite come together, and frankly left me puzzling why so much good ink was spilled on something that was summed up much more effectively in one stanza of a Springsteen song: Spare parts, and broken hearts, Keep the world turning.
It isn't that the individual stories weren't interesting but that they just floated out there on the surface, never quite building enough momentum to pull the ship to shore, as it were. In the end I wasn't convinced that any one of them had learned anything from the arc of their lives -- and while that may be the point, I found it pointless to have read so much, without encountering characters who changed in any way, for better or worse. I'm one of those pesky, annoying readers who "really" hates to read a book just to watch the paint dry.
(Most of the points in here are for the beautiful writing; the rest, for a beautiful plot that never delivers on its promise.)
This is so different than what I was expecting. The structure is more like interconnected short stories, but comes back full circle, it ends how it started. This is fantastic. I was fascinated by every single character, all of the townspeople, their relationships, and each of their stories. Although you won't support every character decision, they're all so devastatingly human. Luminous book.
After reading 'Everything Inside' and now this, I am obsessed with Danticat. And I've heard this is far from her best work, so I can't wait to read the rest of her bibliography. LOVED THIS!!
An audio I stumbled across, as it was available, this was also my first time reading Danticat and my first time getting a look at Haiti, and I liked both, although Danticat may not be ideal on audio.
Claire of the Sea Light is the translation from Creole French of one character's name who shows up in the beginning and then isn't heard from again for a long time. The novel is actually a series of connected short stories that overlap in story line and, for most, tie into the same moment. They give a multifaceted view of a small seaside Haitian town marked by poverty, serious gang violence and a small middle class. The tensions tie in a number of ways, but the writing in third person keeps the reader at a bit of distance. It pulled me in here and there, and was subtle enough that I had to re-listen a lot and finally acknowledge that there is only so much I would get out of this while driving. (Not the fault of the reader. Robin Miles is terrific.) A good experience and I hope to read more of her novels.
---------------------------------------------- 25. Claire of the Sea Light by Edwidge Danticat reader: Robin Miles published: 2013 format: 7:04 Overdrive audio (~196 pages, 238 pages in hardcover) acquired: Library listened: Apr 30 – May 9 rating: 4
In language poetically beautiful and painstakingly precise, Danticat infuses her characters with dignity as they navigate through the loss of innocence and the burden of guilt with a dollop of hope in the small seaside town of Ville Rose. The book opens with the story of Claire Limye’s Lanme’s (Claire of the Sea Light) life up until the morning she turns seven, which is also a day of death to her as her mother died in childbirth, and her father struggles with the decision of his seeking more opportunity and Claire’s future. The book also ends with Claire’s story on the night of her seventh birthday making a decision on her future and how she will handle her legacy. In between the story fills out with the interconnected stories of the other residents of Ville Rose and the surrounding area. Like sea mist blowing the fable/fairy tale-like atmosphere of the story often felt like a barrier for me to see the characters more clearly and thus be emotionally involved with them. The scenes conjured up also had a dreamlike quality. I liked how Danticat subtly showed how the fate and hardships of the town residents was often a product of Mother Nature and/or the changing political scene. Once again Danticat moves her storyline along through the pain of her young characters and her love for Haiti.
Gostei demais como a Edwidge Dandicat construiu a narrativa de Clara da Luz do Mar, sem um protagonista específico, mas com diversas vozes que convergem e que vai e vem entre o tempo atual e o tempo passado, próprio como o balançar das ondas do mar. No começo você fica numa expectativa de que será o livro tão simples assim, sem nada muito rebuscado? Quando nos damos conta já fomos tragados pela sofisticação sutil da autora. E vale a pena, viu.
This is my first Danticat but won't be my last. What a gift at evoking a place and a community of believable, vivid, characters. The only thing that detracted from my enjoyment was that sometimes the novel's tone and diction would shift from a kind of lyrical beauty to straightforward expository about the social ills of the town that felt more like a newspaper editorial than a fictional story.
Early on, we learn that Nozias, a fisherman, has decided to give his daughter to Laurent Lavaud, the fabric vendor Why does Nozias give Claire Limyè Lanmè (Claire of the Sea Light) away? Why does she run away?
Claire of the Sea Light centers on three families and their close friends; some are middle class, others profoundly poor, but social class does not have the same meaning in this Haitian village than in the US. Their stories intertwine and are only understood together. Rather than a linear, western novel, Claire of the Sea Light is more a series of tightly connected short stories. Past and present occur out of order. In the first chapter/story, for example, Claire’s birthdays are counted backward. Death is commonplace and often inexplicable in Ville Rose, the dead mourned deeply and long. Births and deaths often come in pairs.
I suspect that Edwidge Danticat’s decisions are very intentional (i.e., everything is connected). Is time linear as most novels would lead us to believe, flowing in only a single direction? This can be a useful way of looking at the world, but it can be misleading and lead us to flatter and more judgmental stories. Here we find richer narratives: “He is my very terrible and imperfect and dear friend” (p. 195). Or “She was both hungry for life and terrified of it” (p. 159).
And, there was often a grace and joy to Danticat’s language:
[Claire’s] name was as buoyant as it sounded. It was the kind of name that you said with love, that you whispered in your woman’s ears the night before your child was born. It was the kind of name you could easily carry in your dreams, in your mouth, the kind of name that made you clasp your hands against your chest when you heard it being shouted out of so many mouths. It was the kind of name you might find in poems or love letters, or songs. It was a love name and not a revenge name. It was the kind of name that you could call out with hope. It was the kind of name that had the power to make the sun rise. (pp. 118-122)
I didn’t race through this book and, while that can often mean that I didn’t like it, not so in this case.
While I was reading this book, Edwidge Danticat was interviewed on the public news hour. How fortunate was I. I really enjoy Danticat's writing. I was in Haiti for only 5 days but can recognize the society she describes. I also liked her interjection of the Creole language and her inclusion of poetic descriptions as well as poetry. The choice of the book title appears on p. 181. p. 118
The name was a buoyant as it sounded. It was the kind of name that you said with love, that you whispered in your woman’s ears the night before your child was born. It was the kind of name you could easily carry in your dreams, in your mouth, the kind of name that made you clasp your hands against your chest when you heard it being shouted out of so many mouths. It was the kind of name you might find in poems or love letters, or songs. It was a love name and not a revenge name. It was the kind of name that you could call out with hope. It was the kind of name that had the power to make the sun rise.
This is a not altogether complete story, of a small Haitian village where wealthy Gaelle lost her husband as she gave birth to their daughter, and where a few years later impoverished local fisherman Nozais lost his wife as she gave birth to their daughter. This story, and some others (about nascent gang warfare, radio journalists and a DJ, the diaspora, the wealthy and the poor who tend to the care of their families) are told from different perspectives.
Claire of the Sea Light is 7 years old, and her birthday seems a harbinger of dread; her father's plan is that Gaelle, a wealthy local businesswoman, should raise Claire in place of her own daughter Rose who died on another one of Claire's birthdays. Unrequited love is a recurring theme, and it is said that "the worst possible case of unrequited love was feeling rejected by a parent". The stories and setting held my interest but maybe the tone was a little too verging on magical-realism for my taste.
Set in Ville Rose Claire of the Sea Light is about mostly about Claire, her father, the town, grief, and what it means to be a parent. Claire’s mother died while giving birth to her, so on her birthday she usually “celebrate” by going with her father to her mother’s grave. With the death of his wife, fisherman Nozias must now figure out how to give his daughter the life she deserves.
Nozias did not attend school, and is barely getting by as a fisherman, he wants to give Claire the life he’s never had and figured the only way to do this is to give her away to a woman who lost her child. On Claire’s seventh birthday the woman shows up to collect Claire, but Nozias is not sure if he is able to do so, Claire ends up running away.
On the night that Mme Gaelle visits Nozias to finally adopt Claire she gives him the ultimatum, either I get Claire tonight, or the deal is off. Gaelle knows about grief, she knows about not getting to say goodbye to the ones she loved. With the sudden death of her husband and daughter Gaelle is left alone to grief and wonder about her karma.
Grief seems to be the ongoing theme through this book as we hear about Bernard Dorien, Max Ardin Junior and Senior, and the town’s undertaker and mayor- Albert Vincent. These Ville Rose residents are each linked to Nozias and his daughter Claire is a loose way, they all have their ghosts they have to deal with.
I have to be honest, this was not my favourite Danitcat novel and it pains me to say this. I felt the book did not do a great job of putting Claire at the forefront as a character. The book ended and I still did not have a vivid picture of who Claire is, her motivations etc. I felt the book would have worked better as a collection of short stories because that’s how read. While I did enjoy the plot lines of the other characters, I still kept on going back to… “when are we gonna hear more from Claire?” and that never happened.
Regardless of the above, Danticat still was able to keep the interested by weaving and pulling together characters and plotlines that held you. I really enjoyed seeing how the town of Ville Rose was held to together by the undertaker and mayor- which is so hilarious to me.
While this is not my favorite read, I did enjoy the book.
This is a collection of stories of several people from a small coastal Haitian town whose lives are connected, but whose stories are independent. The author drew me into the life of each character, presenting them with depth and sensitivity. 3.5 stars