A review by seeceeread
Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat

My heart, it weeps like a river, for the pain we have caused you.

Sophie is raised by her aunt, Tante Atie, until in her early adolescence, her mother summons her to the United States. As she matures, Sophie learns she is the progeny of a rapist and is trained to be wary of men, on guard against the assumed indignity of sex without marriage vows. When she starts dating a neighbor, her mother borrows a known practice: "testing" Sophie's vaginal strength and hymen, as a proxy for her virginity, her "purity." Wounded and ashamed, Sophie harms herself and runs away to consummate the sacrilege her mother takes for granted. She's quickly married and pregnant, then struggling with sexual engagement. She flees to Haiti for a few days and reconciles with her mother. But her mother has never healed from her violations, and cannot cope with a new pregnancy and freshly intensified nightmares.

This is a story of intergenerational healing, of naming and exorcising that which keeps us up at night. Between characters gasping at horrors, Danticat slips folk tales, kreyol, and earned wisdom. In fact, the book starts with a lot of these, which makes the difficult ending – narrative weight hefted towards tragedy and pain – that much more heavy to navigate.

I recognize some of the folk allusions – the bird who would carry away a beautiful young girl, to make a gift of her heart. The mermaid who marries to become a woman – and this made the book feel more familiar. If you're less familiar with the transplant of Africans into the Americas, I imagine some of this might feel oblique, haphazard, disjointed. For me though, Danticat's debut is gorgeous 💛