CROSSING THE MANGROVE OF ORDER AND PREJUDICE

Romanic Review, May-Nov 2003 by De Souza, Pascale

Traversée de la mangrove, Maryse Condé's fifth novel and her first set solely in Guadeloupe, is structured around intertwined quests that reflect the search for identity grounding much of Caribbean literature. The death of its main protagonist, Francis Sancher, and his subsequent wake, provide the villagers of Rivière au Sel with an opportunity to reflect on their past and current plights and to ponder their future. Neither Sancher, who sought to unearth the truth about his forbears' plantation, nor the villagers, who offer glimpses of their hopes and thwarted dreams, succeed, however, in unweaving the complex web of village life. Aware of the opacity that shrouds Caribbean origins, Condé purposely fails to provide any insight into Sancher's death or any clear path away from the ethno-social order and the prejudices pervading Rivière au Sel. As Priska Degras argues, "Traversée de la mangrove is as much an exploration of the painful opacity of individual and collective stories as a luminous demonstration of the multiple possibilities offered by novel writing."1 The purpose of this essay is to examine the strategies Condé employs to explore the difficult quest for Caribbean identity by challenging the past, revealing a complex present, and tracing a potential future through a reexamination of island topoi.

Throughout the novel, Condé only scatters clues to her characters' elusive past, complex present, and uncertain future. Drawing upon one of the salient geographical features of the island, one character argues that Sancher's quest for identity is as fruitless as any attempt to cross a mangrove. She explains "you'd spike yourself on the roots of the mangrove trees. You'd be sucked down and suffocated by the brackish mud."2 Though several aspects of the novel support Vilma's comment, the very success of Condé's own literary endeavor paradoxically negates this statement. In her novel, she not only explores the mangrove of order and prejudice prevailing in Rivière au Sel, but also introduces readers to strategies for crossing it. An analysis of geographic markers in the novel, both natural and man-made, reveals that while the layout of Rivière au Sel reflects the enduring heritage of slavery and indentured servitude, forest tracks no longer lead inhabitants to a permanent refuge in the mornes [hills] as they supposedly did for marooning slaves, nor do all roads down to the plains lead to alienation in the canefields. Though Rivière au Sel may bear witness to the fact that the Caribbean past still structures ethnic and social relations in Guadeloupe, Condé alludes to a potentially different future for her Caribbean characters through her inversion of the symbolism associated with mornes and plains.

At the time in which Condé situates Traversée de la mangrove-the mid to late twentieth century, slavery has been abolished for over one hundred years, indentured servitude is no longer practiced legally, and the French Caribbean islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique have ceased to be plantation economies. In a 1967 study entitled Morne-Paysan, Peasant Village in Martinique, the sociologist Michael H. Horowitz uncovers, however, a rural world where the past still dictates the division of land and power. Two aspects of life in Morne-Paysan shed light on the representation of village life in Condé's Rivière au Sel: the organization of economic exchange, and housing patterns. Though, as Horowitz explains, most of the villagers of Morne-Paysan grow crops both for home consumption and for Fort-de-France's markets, this integration of village life into a market economy has not yet wreaked havoc on traditional community life. Family members help each other readily with day care, transportation, field work, and major repairs. This communal life is reflected in the layout of housing. Though most houses are occupied by nuclear families, they are not fenced in; free passage between yards allows for an exchange of goods and services, as well as of much local gossip.

Some rifts are noticeable, however, especially among the wealthier inhabitants. At first sight, these tensions seem to follow political affiliations, but closer analysis reveals that they actually fall along ethnic lines. Most of the villagers who control large plots of land inherited these plots from white ancestors in the nineteenth century, while teachers and the main local shopkeeper also trace their lineage back to white planters. All belong to the same political party and fill local administrative positions. The opposition party, on the other hand, recruits mostly among more recently settled villagers. Though Horowitz conducted his study in Martinique, several of his conclusions apply to Guadeloupean village life, notwithstanding a few island-specific factors.

Both Morne Paysan and Rivière au Sel are set in relatively isolated mountainous areas, are comprised of inhabitants who can trace their ancestry back to both planters and slaves, and are the sites of some form of communal life. The inhabitants of Rivière au Sel are drawn, however, from more varied backgrounds. There are descendants of European planters, Indian indentured servants, and Chinese migrants, as well as several foreign residents. The community spirit that draws villagers to Francis Sancher's wake is somewhat deceiving, as both the very structure of the novel and the layout of housing reveal.