Krik Krak

Krik? Krak! is a collection of short stories that explores the horrific, turbulent years of the 1980s in Haiti and the immigrant experience in New York City. Although each story stands alone, there are repeated images, themes, and characters that connect the stories, creating a short story cycle. For the sake of the book club’s discussion questions, I will not go into a lot of detail here about some of these connections, other than to express my appreciation for the way in which these stories interrelate and my deep admiration for the piece as a whole.

Danticat masterfully depicts the humor, tragedy, and beauty of Haitian cultural traditions and attitudes. I especially enjoyed her treatment of voodoo and magic throughout the text:

"The old man was handsome in an odd kind of way, with a gray steak running though the middle of his hair. He sat outside of the cockfights every day, listening as though it were a kind of music, shooing away his wife with spells that never worked."

And

"She’s probably one of those stupid people who think that they have a spell to make themselves invisible and hurt other people. Why can’t none of them get a spell to make themselves rich? It’s that voodoo nonsense that’s holding us Haitians back."

The stories range in severity, from the first story about a Haitian rebel afloat the Atlantic ocean in a tiny boat stuffed full of people facing imminent death, to a story about a woman who follows her mother and discovers her secret nanny job on the Upper West side of Manhattan. Despite the varying degrees of heartbreak throughout the text, Danticat’s prose is consistently fresh, concise, and powerful.

I highly recommend this book; it’s one of my all-time favorites. It’s the kind of book that, regardless of your nationality, reminds you of the sobering human condition, for both its beauty and its pain.

Krik? Krak! is a collection of short stories that explores the horrific, turbulent years of the 1980s in Haiti and the immigrant experience in New York City. Although each story stands alone, there are repeated images, themes, and characters that connect the stories, creating a short story cycle. For the sake of the book club’s discussion questions, I will not go into a lot of detail here about some of these connections, other than to express my appreciation for the way in which these stories interrelate and my deep admiration for the piece as a whole.

Danticat masterfully depicts the humor, tragedy, and beauty of Haitian cultural traditions and attitudes. I especially enjoyed her treatment of voodoo and magic throughout the text:

"The old man was handsome in an odd kind of way, with a gray steak running though the middle of his hair. He sat outside of the cockfights every day, listening as though it were a kind of music, shooing away his wife with spells that never worked."

And

"She’s probably one of those stupid people who think that they have a spell to make themselves invisible and hurt other people. Why can’t none of them get a spell to make themselves rich? It’s that voodoo nonsense that’s holding us Haitians back."

The stories range in severity, from the first story about a Haitian rebel afloat the Atlantic ocean in a tiny boat stuffed full of people facing imminent death, to a story about a woman who follows her mother and discovers her secret nanny job on the Upper West side of Manhattan. Despite the varying degrees of heartbreak throughout the text, Danticat’s prose is consistently fresh, concise, and powerful.

I highly recommend this book; it’s one of my all-time favorites. It’s the kind of book that, regardless of your nationality, reminds you of the sobering human condition, for both its beauty and its pain.