"Morne Câpresse" by Gisèle Pineau

I first read this book back in 2017. At that time, I was just getting back into reading Caribbean literature. Gisèle Pineau is an author I read in 6th or 7th grade. Her YA book “Un papillon dans la cité” (A butterfly in the projects) then switched to “Caraïbe-sur-Seine” (Caribbean on the Seine river) was a classic. She’s mostly celebrated for celebrating Guadeloupean culture from her unique perspective as someone who grew up in France and truly got to experience her island once she was an adult. “Morne Câpresse” was published in 2008. Reading this book was as unsettling as it was challenging. I wasn’t prepared for something so powerful.

At the top of Morne Câpresse (Câpresse Hill) , in a true garden of Eden, lives the mysterious “Daughters of Cham “ congregation. Lead by Sister Pacôme, the communauty provides shelter to women who have had a rough life : there are murders, drug addicts, sex workers… Ruled by an unbending hierarchy, dozens of followers work to help these lost girls and women to heal and to respect strict rituals. Line is searching for her lost sister Mylène. As a last resort in the search for her lost sister Mylène, Line goes up the hill and talks to the Daughters of Cham. However, her inquisitive questions threaten the balance of the organization. Behind the idyllic appearances, would these women hide a few dark secrets ?

I chose this book because of the title. This is one of the most creative titles I’ve come across so far in my life. “Morne Câpresse” is a play on words that cannot be translated. In kreyol, “morne” means “hill”. In French, it means “bleak” or “dull”. The word “câpresse” is the adjective used to describe a woman with one parent Black and one parent Mulatto [t/n : Mulatto is no longer used. We usually say be biracial today] back in the French colonial times in Guadeloupe. So when I picked the book, I only read the title with the kreyol meaning “Câpresse Hill”. Then when I finished the book and read other reviews, I realized the title could also be given the French meaning “the dull Câpresse” because the story is about Caribbean Black women whose chaotic lives turned into dull beings and who try to get their lives back together. The way Gisèle Pineau is able to subtly display Caribbean culture in her writing while still being able to make it accessible to non-Caribbean people is the reason I love her writing so much.

Vivid descriptions

I’m not a fan of long and endless descriptions. Even less when the author is trying to be poetic with countless metaphors. However, Gisèle Pineau paints descriptions through her words. You can see the painting being created right in front of your eyes. Same goes for the interior monologues. I’m not a big fan of the POV switching, but she makes it necessary in order for us to discover each “Daughter of Cham”. The smooth transitions help to understand the events as well as each character’s feelings and darkest thoughts.

Complex women

Each portrait gives us a glimpse of the character’s past decisions to understand its present. I won’t give you spoilers about the different complex personalities that we get, but when we look at the characters as a group, they each display a different side of what being a woman from Guadeloupe is about. On a physical level and on a psychological level. They’re strong women, but they’ve been through hell and them being survivors doesn’t mean that they’re healed or at peace with what they did. They’re fragile and don’t have to put on the “fanm potomitan” armor. They can’t be denied their individuality because here they aren’t defined by being the mother of, being the sister of, being the wife of etc. They define themselves in their own terms with all the beauty and cruelty human beings can express. I love this kind of complex representation for Caribbean women.

A Guadeloupe about to implode

The few films created in Guadeloupe usually offer a representation of Guadeloupean society from the male gaze perspective. There’s this paradoxe between how these men celebrate the “fanm potomitan” and how they blame this figure for the men being irresponsable and unable to be providers for their family. Women are never part of the conversation about social issues, about violence matters, especially among our youth. Even when they’re seen as victims, the male gaze considers the facts and doesn’t show the emotional or psychological impact on the women. How do women feel? What do they have to do to put up with traumas? What does our society implement to protect them from men? In “Morne Câpresse”, these women see the organization Daughters of Cham as a solution. The Guadeloupe described through their eyes, through their past displays the violence and danger women are surrounded with, regardless of their class status. Telling our stories is about sharing our narrative. Telling our stories is about claiming back the control over the narrative and trying to find our own solutions.

Conclusion

While reading this book, I was tempted several times to put it down and never pick it back up because there are so many feelings to absorb. No matter how subtle and delicate Gisèle Pineau is in her descriptions, the suffering of these women was so ordinary that it was scary to think that any of us could be any of these characters. I think this book gives a raw and authentic vision of Guadeloupe from the women’s point of view. You may not enjoy the book, but it can’t leave you indifferent. You’ll feel something while reading. The reasons why you may not like are probably the reasons why someone will.

Check out the original French version of this review.