What do you think?
Rate this book
The Four Deportations of Jean Marseille: Dispatches #1
100 pages, Paperback
Published October 1, 2024
3 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
November 7, 2024
a firsthand account of the political instability in haiti (and the dr). humanizes an issue that many readers may feel distant from their own lives. absolutely tragic yet enthralling. highlights the importance of practicing empathy and second chances. jean marseille's non-traditional background makes his narrative much easier to understand. it is as if he is not speaking to academics and historians, he is speaking to a friend.
i'm really sorry that this is the first review of this book. i found it at elliott bay on a trip to seattle and did not realize it was a new release. im not a great reviewer but this is definitely worth a read.
i'm really sorry that this is the first review of this book. i found it at elliott bay on a trip to seattle and did not realize it was a new release. im not a great reviewer but this is definitely worth a read.
September 3, 2025
The Four Deportations of Jean Marseille is the first installment of a new nonfiction series from McSweeney’s called Dispatches, consisting of first-hand accounts from around the world of lives in turmoil because of government (in)actions and dysfunctions. The Four Deportations is taken from brief messages recorded on Marseille’s cell phone, sent to editors Laura Lampton Scott and Peter Orner from October 2022 to February 2024, describing daily life in current Haiti (anarchy and murder with no functioning government). Raised by an immigrant mother in Florida but kicked out of the U.S. for selling drugs in his teens, Marseille’s English skills allowed him—before conditions in Haiti grew to what they are today—to serve as an interpreter and taxi driver for reporters covering the country. Otherwise, Marseille—along with his fellow Haitians—ekes out a living by selling trinkets and food on the street.
Resilient and resourceful, always on the hustle to make a little extra cash, at one point in his life, Marseille was doing relatively well by chaotic Haitian standards: He owned a house and could feed his family. But in 2021, after Haiti’s president, Jovenel Moïse, was assassinated, rival gangs in Port au Prince ended all semblance of a functional national government.
In the fallout of the disorder, Marseille’s son, Diego, age eight, was kidnapped and held for ransom. Word got out that Marseille had received an inheritance after his mother in Florida died. Suspicions would have arisen anyhow: He was working less and eating more—behaviors his neighbors noticed. His inheritance was $7,800, and kidnappers got all but $800 of it. Soon after he retrieved Diego from his kidnappers, the same gang kicked him out of his house, forcing the family out onto the street.
Every day, Marseille fears being killed for any reason or no reason at all. His sleep is poor, and where he is allowed to stay changes from day to day. Sometimes a person offers him a shack to stay in; often, he must sleep on the street. Another citizen of the streets gives him a blanket to cover himself with at night.
He eventually scrapes together enough money for a visa to enter the Dominican Republic on the other side of the island. He finds a job paying $80 a week working 10-hour days at a call center for Medicare supplementary insurance. He has a small place to stay, but he has two of his children with him, including Diego. His wife and three of his daughters, however, are still in Haiti, slowly trying to amass enough money to pay for visas (about $650) each. After one of his daughters is gang-raped, however, Marseille does what he can to illegally smuggle her in the Dominican Republic.
While Marseille would rather be back in Haiti—a place that, despite everything, he loves very much—he finds in the DR’s amenities a small kernel of stability that meets minimum standards of decency, despite the racism, resentment, and abuse shown against Haitians in the DR:
"The Dominican Republic is a much cleaner place. Trucks pick up trash in the morning. It’s a beautiful place. It’s got big malls, you can go to the theater, there are yellow lines on the streets. It’s got electricity in the houses. It has a working internet system. The weather is different between Haiti and the DR. It’s very, very hot in Haiti because there aren’t trees. Electricity is another thing about the Dominican Republic that I like. There’s always less electricity in Haiti."
(Marseille’s comment about Haiti’s lack of trees isn’t an exaggeration: Haiti has been largely deforested to make charcoal from for heating and cooking. Although Marseille doesn’t mention it, Haiti also lacks a sewer system.)
I wish I could say that The Four Deportations is about redemption after decades of trials—Marseille is in his early 50s—but Haiti is too poor for even that.
For more of my reviews, please see https://www.thebookbeat.com/backroom/...
Resilient and resourceful, always on the hustle to make a little extra cash, at one point in his life, Marseille was doing relatively well by chaotic Haitian standards: He owned a house and could feed his family. But in 2021, after Haiti’s president, Jovenel Moïse, was assassinated, rival gangs in Port au Prince ended all semblance of a functional national government.
In the fallout of the disorder, Marseille’s son, Diego, age eight, was kidnapped and held for ransom. Word got out that Marseille had received an inheritance after his mother in Florida died. Suspicions would have arisen anyhow: He was working less and eating more—behaviors his neighbors noticed. His inheritance was $7,800, and kidnappers got all but $800 of it. Soon after he retrieved Diego from his kidnappers, the same gang kicked him out of his house, forcing the family out onto the street.
Every day, Marseille fears being killed for any reason or no reason at all. His sleep is poor, and where he is allowed to stay changes from day to day. Sometimes a person offers him a shack to stay in; often, he must sleep on the street. Another citizen of the streets gives him a blanket to cover himself with at night.
He eventually scrapes together enough money for a visa to enter the Dominican Republic on the other side of the island. He finds a job paying $80 a week working 10-hour days at a call center for Medicare supplementary insurance. He has a small place to stay, but he has two of his children with him, including Diego. His wife and three of his daughters, however, are still in Haiti, slowly trying to amass enough money to pay for visas (about $650) each. After one of his daughters is gang-raped, however, Marseille does what he can to illegally smuggle her in the Dominican Republic.
While Marseille would rather be back in Haiti—a place that, despite everything, he loves very much—he finds in the DR’s amenities a small kernel of stability that meets minimum standards of decency, despite the racism, resentment, and abuse shown against Haitians in the DR:
"The Dominican Republic is a much cleaner place. Trucks pick up trash in the morning. It’s a beautiful place. It’s got big malls, you can go to the theater, there are yellow lines on the streets. It’s got electricity in the houses. It has a working internet system. The weather is different between Haiti and the DR. It’s very, very hot in Haiti because there aren’t trees. Electricity is another thing about the Dominican Republic that I like. There’s always less electricity in Haiti."
(Marseille’s comment about Haiti’s lack of trees isn’t an exaggeration: Haiti has been largely deforested to make charcoal from for heating and cooking. Although Marseille doesn’t mention it, Haiti also lacks a sewer system.)
I wish I could say that The Four Deportations is about redemption after decades of trials—Marseille is in his early 50s—but Haiti is too poor for even that.
For more of my reviews, please see https://www.thebookbeat.com/backroom/...
April 3, 2025
A riveting read that at times feels like it’s bordering on being exploitive due to the intimate dispatches provided by Jean Marsielle.
The story was eye-opening about the political instability that is ongoing in Haiti and its impact on the neighbouring nation of the Dominican Republic. The dispatches also touch on the impact of immigration policy, as Jean Marsielle himself was deported to Haiti despite having a green card and knowing nothing but life in America.
It's hard to make momentum when the ground under you is constantly shifting.
The story was eye-opening about the political instability that is ongoing in Haiti and its impact on the neighbouring nation of the Dominican Republic. The dispatches also touch on the impact of immigration policy, as Jean Marsielle himself was deported to Haiti despite having a green card and knowing nothing but life in America.
It's hard to make momentum when the ground under you is constantly shifting.
February 23, 2025
The story of Jean Marseille a father struggling to make ends meet supporting his family through the instability of financial uncertainty and a destabilized region. The story is told through Jean Marseille’s first hand account through a set of dispatches spoken to journalists Laura Scott and Peter Orner.
It is a short but compelling read that lays bear the incredible hardships that ordinary people Haiti face at home and abroad varying from violence to dire economic conditions that make even survival a daily struggle.
I picked this book up at Dog Eared Books in the Mission, San Francisco. Highly recommend.
It is a short but compelling read that lays bear the incredible hardships that ordinary people Haiti face at home and abroad varying from violence to dire economic conditions that make even survival a daily struggle.
I picked this book up at Dog Eared Books in the Mission, San Francisco. Highly recommend.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews