Chronicle of the Seven Sorrows traces the rise and fall of Pipi Soleil, “king of the wheelbarrow” at the vegetable market of Fort-de-France, in a tale as lively and magical as the marketplace itself. In a Martinique where creatures from folklore walk the land and cultural traditions cling tenuously to life, Patrick Chamoiseau’s characters confront the crippling heritage of colonialism and the overwhelming advance of modernization with touching dignity, hilarious resourcefulness, and truly courageous joie de vivre.
Patrick Chamoiseau is a French author from Martinique known for his work in the créolité movement.
Chamoiseau was born on December 3, 1953 in Fort-de-France, Martinique, where he currently resides. After he studied law in Paris he returned to Martinique inspired by Édouard Glissant to take a close interest in Creole culture. Chamoiseau is the author of a historical work on the Antilles under the reign of Napoléon Bonaparte and several non-fiction books which include Éloge de la créolité (In Praise of Creoleness), co-authored with Jean Bernabé and Raphaël Confiant. Awarded the Prix Carbet (1990) for Antan d’enfance. His novel Texaco was awarded the Prix Goncourt in 1992, and was chosen as a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. It has been described as "a masterpiece, the work of a genius, a novel that deserves to be known as much as Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth and Cesaire’s Return to My Native Land".
Chamoiseau may also safely be considered as one of the most innovative writers to hit the French literary scene since Louis-Ferdinand Céline. His freeform use of French language — a highly complex yet fluid mixture of constant invention and "creolism" — fuels a poignant and sensuous depiction of Martinique people in particular and humanity at large.
3.5 stars I'm not sure if I should review this in English or in French, let's go with English. I think the language is the most beautiful thing about this book (and any other books by Chamoiseau). I'm fortunate enough to be from the French caribbean just as the author, this enables me to truly appreciate the beauty of Chamoiseau's writing. For those who don't know in the French isles of the Caribbean, people speak both French and Kreyol (or Créole). During slavery créole was the dominant language and people struggled mastering french. Nowadays French is dominant language. Chamoiseau's style accurately depicts the cohabitation between French and Créole in the Caribbean, while he writes mainly in French, he writes in a highly creolized French, full of allusions to créole common phrases. As a Créole speaker it was funny to spot these creolizations. I, however feel that anyone who goes into this book not speaking créole might lose an important aspect of the writing. I know that this book was translated in several languages and I'm curious to know if the translators were able to be faithful to the spirit of the original text that is in no way standard French.
On to the story itself, I appreciated learning about the "djobeurs" who used to work on the markets, doing little jobs, helping the merchants. I also loved the magical realism elements (Afoukal's ghost, Man Zabym). I sometimes felt lost because there were many characters and I had trouble remembering who was who. Overall this was a great book, while it's a work of fiction, it's an extremely realistic depiction of postcolonial Martinique.
This sits in the middle for me. I love magic realism, so I was excited about this book going in. I think it accomplishes painting the richness of Martinique's culture, especially by choosing the marketplace as a central space. Heck, the mythological elements were my favorite part. However, distinguishing the different characters was hard (heh, I could remember Pipi at least). There's a lot of jumping around in this book, which made for a fast read...but, it was difficult to keep track of. Still, I feel like I gained a lot of knowledge from reading this, especially as someone unfamiliar with Martinique.
Chamoiseau's first already contains much of the prose that makes his sentences so delightful, sentences to sip slowly like a cordial as he would say. We're also on the road to Texaco (1992), only not yet as broad and epic. In Chronique, Chamoiseau does mainly portraits, and focuses on giving life to the Martiniquais that have faded away. So, there is melancholy, but much more so there is homage, poetry, an effort to capture the colors by bringing them back to life through the magic of the word. So, as a text it's quite marvelous already, but as a story, it jumps too much from one character to the next, it's very objective (García-Márquez style) and we know little of the characters' inner lives. Also, there's too much unity in tone, every character is incredible in the same way. I'm also slightly disappointed by the binary man-woman relations, and it seems Chamoiseau only has eyes and respect for the old ladies. There are a few good episodes, especially when Chamoiseau takes the time to follow up on something, but otherwise there's a tendency for stories to dissolve into each other. But, again, his ability and creativity with words is gorgeous.
J'ai beaucoup apprécié ce roman de Patrick Chamoiseau. On est plongé dans un univers haïtien merveilleux et en même temps terrible : pauvreté, viols,etc.. C'est un roman poignant qui peut quand même avoir quelques longueurs parfois. Il y a beaucoup de personnages, et le vocabulaire utilisé peut être assez complexe.
En tant que tel, c'était pas mauvais, mais il y a tellement de personnages et de longeur qu'on finit par se perdre. Aussi, c'est un livre qu'il fallait je lise pour un examen, mais je n'ai pas réussi à le terminer attend hahah et après l'examen, j'avais aucune envie de le continuer, donc abandon.
Je l’ai lu pour un cours à la fac qui s’intitule « Les zombis en francophonie ». Honnêtement, j’ai eu tellement de mal à suivre !! J’avais déjà lu Solibo Magnifique de Patrick Chamoiseau et avais largement apprécié, mais je n’ai vraiment pas accroché avec celui-ci… 😕