“It wasn’t the boy who lost his leg, who was guilty, it was the rest of us who looked away from people like him… We’d lost our legs – sea legs, land legs, the ability to stand up for ourselves. I needed to cleanse the bones myself, to put all this behind me, return to the land, to my mother’s land, remember everything, and forget the last two years of death begetting death.”
Four years after the earthquake, Ma Lou is still trying to make sense of what happened, for herself and society as a whole. The earthquake caused indiscriminate destruction, giving no importance to those innocent or guilty. So much death and trauma ripped at the very fabric of society. Fear and survival caused people to lose empathy, to look away from other’s pain. Ma Lou believes that to heal from the last few years she needs to reconnect with the land, her culture, and the people around her. Furthermore, she believes that for society to heal, Haitians must become self-sufficient by learning to rely on one another.
“The saints, the crooks, the foreigners, the white saviors, the bleeding hearts, they all need sustenance, and we give it to them."
Ma Lou and the other market women are often looked down on or ignored by many in Haitian society. The market functions as a commons where everyone in the novel meets or passes through. Through their position, the market women see and hear everything. This quote reveals Ma Lou's deep insight into Haitian society. There are so many hands in Haiti, all in pursuit of their own personal gain or goals. Whether looking for money, influence, or recognition for “saving” Haiti’s people, everyone wants something from the country. Ma Lou and the other market women do not discriminate. They provide food and sustenance to everyone regardless of status or background, and in the process bear witness to the ups and downs of society around them.
“Miniature dancers with hidden internal choreographers named happiness and simplicity, love. That’s what they were – love in movement, her love, Olivier’s, all the world’s love wrapped up in their little fists pumping through the air, feet following, drumming the earth for joy.”
Sara describes watching her daughters go out to play before the earthquake, how their movements were imbued with a sense of innocence, love, and joy. The deep sense of love within their family gave Sara’s daughters an ease and simplicity as they moved. This memory stands in sharp contrast to Sara’s reality and highlights the depth of her grief. There is a clear before and after in Sara’s life, and she realizes how special those everyday moments were now that her daughters are gone.
“I like it because there is nothing physical between us and yet we love each other. What greater love could there be?”
Dieudonné's quote illustrates the depth and sincerity of his relationship with Sonia. By saying that there is "nothing physical" between them, he is emphasizing the fact that their love is not based on physical attraction or desire. Instead, it is founded on a profound emotional connection and mutual understanding. This suggests that Dieudonné values the power of non-physical love, and believes it can be even more powerful than physical relationships. Especially in their line of work, where sex and desire is something that is bought and sold, Dieudonné makes a separation between carnal and a more spiritual love. Dieudonné's words serve as an affirmation of the strength and beauty of spiritual connections above all else. By recognizing and cherishing their unique bond, he and Sonia create an environment where both individuals feel safe, respected, and cared for without any expectations or preconceived notions about what their relationship should be like.
"I no longer thought of myself as having a mother. She had birthed me, this was true, taken care of me those early years, but I had rebirthed myself. I was my own mother.”
Richard decides not to visit his mother, Ma Lou, while in Haiti. In justifying his decision, he describes how he now longer feels that she is his mother. Richard considers himself a self-made man, attributing all his success to his own efforts, so much so that he refers to himself as his own mother. In doing so, he neatly justifies his disinterest in maintaining a relationship with Ma Lou, wanting to distance himself as much as possible from her life and his roots. His egotistical nature disregards how this might make her feel, or the cost of what he has left behind.
“The night air had become cool and he hadn’t brought out a sweater for her. His face flushed, hardened; he was not entirely a father. He nodded at the man, assuming the mask of his reputation. Held Mathilde close and walked about to the car, wondering what he might do to secure his place in her world, a place that money could not buy.”
Before the earthquake, Leopold takes Matilde on a trip to visit a bird sanctuary for her fourth birthday. Leopold savors the closeness he feels with his daughter in this moment, but at the same time he is plagued by doubts. For Leopold, forgetting to bring a sweater for Matilde is a reminder that he does not know what he is doing as a father. He wants to secure a place in her life but struggles with how to do that outside of financial contributions. Even these brief insecurities make Leopold feel vulnerable, especially in front of the man leading their tour. Leopold’s immediate reaction is to assume a tough exterior. Only after the earthquake does Leopold figure out the type of father he wants to be and starts changing his life to make it happen.
“I trusted the elderly women because they had lived long enough to have gray on their heads. To me, this was an achievement as significant as getting a high school diploma...getting old couldn’t be a matter of simple luck.”
In the chaotic life of the camps, Taffia looks to the older women as models of how to adapt. Even before the earthquake, life was complicated for Taffia and many in her neighborhood. At fifteen, Taffia intuitively understands that for these women to have reached an old age they have had to be resilient and tough. Taffia respects their age and experience; recognizing them as survivors, she follows their lead. Chancy makes it clear that many of these women, such as Ma Lou, Sonia, and Taffia’s mother are pillars in their communities. They sustain their families through hardship and find a way to survive.
“The pain of not knowing what was happening to the family I had left behind to come to a world I knew nothing about, and could scarcely survive in, but pretended was better than what I’d fled… It had all been too much for me, the weight of it. The weight of them. The weight of not being able to do enough. If I was honest with myself, that was why I’d left.”
Didier is a socially conscious person. Growing up in Haiti he is painfully aware of many of the social ills that those around him face: the poverty, the lack of opportunity for dignified work, and the violence or weakening of family structure that this environment breeds. Didier feels powerless to do anything about it, both for his family and society at large. The weight of this knowledge and his own helplessness is part of what motivated Didier to leave Haiti. Yet arriving in Boston, Didier finds a society with its own challenges that make Haiti, for all its problems, look better in hindsight. As Didier struggles to survive in a new country, he feels the distance, emotionally and physically, from his family. When the earthquake strikes, Didier is left without any knowledge of who in his family has survived, carrying his own type of trauma and pain from the earthquake.
“Building codes were reserved for people with means and running water. The rest took their chances. What would we be able to offer?”
Anne speaks to the immense disparities that were present in Haiti before the 2010 earthquake. Building codes, which are essential for making sure structures are safe and able to withstand earthquakes, were only available to those who had the money. This meant that many of Haiti’s poorest people lacked any real protection from a disaster like an earthquake. This quote also reveals Anne's feelings of helplessness in the face of this tragedy. She can see how unequal opportunities have left so many Haitians vulnerable, yet she is unsure how she, as a mere individual, can help them. It implicitly raises questions about who is responsible for helping those affected by disasters like this one: individuals, governments, or NGOs and foundations. Her words serve as an appeal to the reader as well, that we all remember our collective responsibility towards those affected by tragedies such as these and look for ways we can help support them in their time of need.
“Ruins had meaning: they revealed time like nothing else could, outlived bodies, love stories, everything. They should stand.”
As an architect, Anne spends a lot of time contemplating buildings, their purpose and their meaning. In her proposal for the rebuilding of the Cathedral in Port-au-Prince, Anne chooses to preserve the broken walls rather than knocking them down and building from scratch. She believes buildings bear witness to the lives lived long after the people and their stories are gone. They are a part of history and their scars mark specific moments in time. Anne and the rest of the country are grappling with how to heal. Her design offers a proposal for how to find hope amid so much pain and loss: honor the dead by weaving them into the rebuilding of both the lives and buildings moving forward.
