The Immortals

by Makenzy Orcel, Nathan H Dize (Contributor)

The Immortals is set in an infamous neighborhood of Port-au-Prince, on Grand-Rue, where many women, young and old, trade in flesh, sex, and desire. We learn, in glimpses and fragments, about the lives of women who fall in love with the moving images of television, the romance of a novel, and the dreams of escape. This moving novel asks, What becomes of these women, their lives, their stories, their desires, and their whims when a violent earthquake brings the capital city and its brothels to their knees?

To preserve the memory of women she lived and worked with, the anonymous narrator makes a deal with her client once she discovers that he is a writer: sex in exchange for recording the stories of the friends who were buried beneath the rubble. She tells the stories of women who were friends, lovers, daughters, and mothers--all while their profession sought to hide any trace of intimacy or interiority through pseudonyms and artifice. Ultimately the book reveals how a group of women sought to make a name for themselves in life, demanding that they not be forgotten in death.

Winner of France's 2012 Prix Thyde Monnier de la Soci�t� des Gens de Lettres, The Immortals is the first work of fiction by the celebrated Haitian writer Makenzy Orcel. Mingling poetry and prose, Orcel centers stories that too often go untold, while reflecting on the power and limits of storytelling in the face of catastrophe.

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction

132 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2010

Reviews

[Valentina]

Samo se možda u magli sjećamo potresa koji je 2010. pogodio Haiti i njegove stanovnike. Možda nas je nakratko zgrozila ta vijest, sažalili smo se nad tim nesretnicima i nastavili s našim obavezama.

Sigurno tada nismo pomislili na stradale kurve.

Kapljičnim pripovijedanjem autor nas odvodi u njihove živote… Uhvatio me virus okretanja stranica i neispuštanja knjige iz ruku.

[Nate D]

Dropping the far superior Cécé off at the library, I somehow spotted another novel of the Haitian fringes by a poet, it was too opportune to pass up. While both deal with sex work in a Port-au-Prince devastated by the 2010 earthquake (8 years apart), and both have their share of desperation and despair, Céce managed to tight-rope walk through those with a real warmth for the neighborhood and its people. This, however, feels narrow, lightless, trapped in generational misery without even bonds of family or community to hold its spare, clipped account together. I don't think Cécé's narrative lets the reader off the hook with false hope, it is in fact a pretty cynical book. But this just offers so little, its characters such ghosts, as to vanish entirely.

[Daniela Beaković]

Svakom novom stranicom Makenzy me uvjeravao da je pisanje bespolno, ljudsko, da i muškarci imaju dušu, da su pjesnici “ čuđenje u svijetu”, da novinari vide, a pisci osjećaju.

[Madison Sides]

Terrible. I would say more but digital footprints exist.

[Marina Grgić]

Sad, True ,Great book.

[Sarah Booker]

"Let's begin. I'll talk. You, the writer, you write. You transform. The others always begin with prayer. I want us to begin with poetry. She loved poetry." - Makenzy Orcel, translated by Nathan Dize

[adeline]

Une belle lecture, lu d'une traite, très poétique

[Alma Alma]

A book to revisit again and again. Loose plot, heavy repetition and the reminder that one does not need to many adverbs nor characterization. “Her hair cascaded over her face” nah. “She hated her mother”, now that tells us more about the character. I know i say this a lot but it’s a book to study in a literature class. Or a class on post colonial writing, how we do not need so much structure, nor world building. remembering Makumbi’s words, of writing as if the “entire world is Ugandan”. So that others adjust to you. I wanted to find the voice of Dahomey. And i can see it here, feel not so much the voice but the ways in which Orcel practices possession, being a vessel for stories, for the thoughts and stories of others to find. Way into thr world. And how he makes these stories immortal. An incredible sort of restitutive justice, of structural justice, a way to make sure these women, their stories are remembered, even if they are buried under rubble, their lives not cared for. A beautiful way to make the seen, seen, the heard heard, pen to paper. That way they can never die. What a meta book

[Sylvaine Yvenou]

Haïti 12 janvier 2010.
"A toutes les putes de la Grand-Rue emportées par le violent séisme du 12 janvier 2010"

Mackenzy Orcel signe un roman incantatoire. Trois voix se mêlent à celle de l'écrivain, la pute, la mère et la petite à travers les mots de son journal intime.
La petite se fait appeler Shakira , elle a quitté la maison familiale, fui une mère bigote qui préférait la soumission à la rébellion. Elle s'est réfugiée chez la pute et a appris le métier pour être enfin libre, libre de vivre comme elle l'entend , libre de dévorer les livres , libre d'aimer ...
La Grand-Rue ...
Mackenzy Orcel manie les mots sans tabous ni pudeur.

Ce premier roman a reçu le Prix Thyde Monnier de la Société des Gens de Lettres en 2012.
Un roman qui ne peut laisser indifférent.

[Haley]

This book is like poetry, and I don’t really care for poetry. I found myself a little lost, sometimes, particularly with the perspective of each passage. An overall interesting concept and unique narrative style.

[Cora Lang]

Petit bouquin d'après séisme intérieur comme extérieur.

[Lina]

3,5 étoiles
Je l'ai lu d'un seul coup, j'ai trouvé le style d'écriture étrange au début mais je me suis habitué au fil de ma lecture
J'ai bien aimé c'est très particulier

[Mina Repice]

Wait this was realllly good. Read somewhat similar to Invisible Cities with the fragmented narrative structure. I loved every second learning about the lives of Haitian prostitutes.

[Elena]

Tragična priča, loša izvedba.

[Vlatka]

Nerazrađeno i repetativno

[sash.]

exquisitely told story about the lives of haitian women sex workers set in grand-rue, port-au-prince, haiti.

[Susana]

Una muy poética narración para describir el impacto del hurracán de 2010 en Haití, desde la vista de las prostitutas de Grand Rue:

"We, the whores of Grand Rue. We are the immortals."

Golpeadas por la pobreza, el abuso, siempre sobrevivientes.

La imagen de la joven prostituta atrapada en el edificio derrumbado, me quedó marcado a fuego en la memoria.

[Èvya Dòsenvil]

Un texte qui vous prend à la gorge, qui vous bouscule, qui vous raconte l’horreur, la vie et la mort. La terre tremble, voltige, s’emballe, se secoue comme une chienne secouant ses puces. Et cette pute, qui lit Jacques Stephen Alexis, cette autre qui cherche sa fille, celle-là qui raconte ses douleurs et celles des autres à un écrivain. Des voix qui parlent toutes en même temps, jaillissent, s’entrechoquent et se contredissent. Et votre qui bat, au rythme des mots.

[Khetsia]

Les immortelles. Histoire des putes. Histoire d’une Haïti déchirée entre le fanatisme et la merde. Le tremblement, avec ses secousses, fourre tout ensemble. Au final, une tuerie de femmes, d’enfants déjà à terre…

[Claire]

Je suis malheureusement sûre de ne pas avoir compris de "superbes" choses...

[Jacqueline]

Amazing lyrical journey into the bowels of downtown Port-au-Prince post earthquake, through the eyes of a prostitute. Rarely is such a hard topic written in such a poetic voice.

[Léa]

Très beau texte sur Port-au-Prince, le séisme, la prostitution. Comme un recueil de poème avec une structure narrative qui vous invite à connaître la suite. Captivant!

[Elle Za]

Excellent roman ! Un livre très original de par son rythme, sa fulgurance, son thème...

[Frey]

Façon originale d'écrire mais je n'ai rien ressenti en lisant le malheur de ces femmes.