"Leonora", "The God of Good Looks", Caribbean women from object to subject

She’s from Guadeloupe. She’s from Trinidad and Tobago. She's from the 20th century. She's from the 21st century. She’s Afrodescendant. She’s Asiafrodescendant. And they are Caribbean women who express the power of "I".

My #readcaribbean month TBR is still waiting for me to get around to it. I was motivated, really, but I read two books in April and May that had such an impact on me that I couldn't move on to other books. Between “Léonora” by Dany Bébel-Gisler and “The God of Good Looks” by Breanne McIvor, I got the opportunity to give more layers to my Karukerament concept of femininity.

The question "What is our representation of happiness? How are we happy?" is at the heart of my thinking. Faced with a Guadeloupean cinema that invisibilizes women or reduces them to stereotypes that are rarely challenged, our literature offers a more numerous gallery of female characters. With the heroines of Maryse Condé and Gisèle Pineau, and in relation to my own experience, my definition of femininity remained limited to a perpetual quest for oneself in a patriarchy stifling any aspiration to be more than a mother and/or a wife... or even to assume neither of these roles. And always through the prism of suffering, with no hope of the slightest change. As a woman, can we achieve happiness by changing from being object to being subject?

embodying a changing society

Family, education, culture, religion, the economy... these two novels describe in simple yet precise terms the political mechanisms that affect every aspect of our daily lives. Whether you live at home, have access to healthcare, to higher education (or not), whether you have a respected social status (or not), everything is linked to decisions made by the people who should have the well-being of each individual at heart.

Through Léonora, we discover the inequalities of mid-twentieth-century Guadeloupean society. Her individual journey is linked to the historical events that marked Guadeloupe in the 50s, 60s and 70s, notably the 1975 general strike of sugar workers supported by Father Chérubin Céleste. She was active in the life of her community, which was gradually disappearing as lifestyles changed. This working class, which nourished the BUMIDOM migration from overseas territories to France, is undergoing the changes of modernity, such as the arrival of social housing instead of the sheet metal small house on a family plot.

Through Bianca, we discover the inequalities of Trinidadian society at the beginning of the 21st century. Her individual journey is linked to the objectification of women she experiences as a model, and the realization of her socio-economic privileges in the face of the organized insalubrity of certain neighborhoods and the upsurge in violence. They both live and rebuke society's disrespect for women. They give themselves the right to happiness.

Embodying a changing womanhood

In my Tim Tim? Bwa Fik! discussion with Breanne McIvor, we talk about how society wants to control women. Leonora and Bianca embody the constant tension between maintaining self-control and letting go. Their desire to love and be loved doesn't prevent them from listening to their survival instincts when they're on the verge of losing themselves. They’re no fanm potomitan who sacrifice themselves for others without receiving anything in return. They aren’t women who accumulate suffering without a glimmer of hope. On the contrary, in their struggle to understand their needs and desires, they turn to others.

While patriarchy condemns women who want to be autonomous, predicting a life of bitter solitude, Leonora and Bianca assert themselves by creating bonds around themselves. Leonora rejects the status of the cheated, battered wife and fully embraces her status as a single mother, which gives her the freedom to live according to her convictions of morality and justice. The clarity with which she analyzes her situation sheds all the more light on her strength to break free from convention. Bianca shrugs off the label of superficial lover to a wealthy politician and fully embraces her status as a fashion editorialist, which gives her the freedom to denounce social and economic inequalities. By being true to themselves, Leonora and Bianca find the happiness they have defined for themselves.

The “I” has all the more impact, as words get the reader to experience the fears, doubts, anger, and, above all, peace that a woman can feel by being honest with herself. This alignment with oneself is not innate. It's a conscious choice, followed by the decisions needed to achieve it. Whether by force of circumstance or conviction, Leonora and Bianca turn into the protagonists of their own lives.

In our Tim Tim ? Bwa Fik! discussion, Guadeloupean author Tessa Naime described Guadeloupean literature as writing about intimacy. This exploration of what it means to be a woman reveals a desire for freedom. The freedom to love yourself first. The society around you that tells you to hate yourself if you don't conform to its demands can have a powerful voice. The freedom to accept yourself, to forgive yourself for certain choices, and to be happy against all odds. Whether as the storyteller at a wake in constant dialogue with the audience, or in diary format, Leonora and Bianca take possession of their identity and their story. Whatever their age, origins, social status or era, they show that connecting with the rest of the world is first and foremost a matter of connecting with oneself. It goes without saying that this message applies to men too, so in reality, it applies to every human being.