Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- List of Figures
- Acknowledgements
- A Note on Translations
- Introduction
- 1 Costuming Colonial Resistance in the New World
- 2 Fanmi se dra: Cross-gender Fabrications of Identity in Des hommes et des dieux
- 3 Visual Dètours: Refracting the Blan Female Gaze in Haitian Vodou
- 4 Spectatorial Travestisme
- 5 Dressed to Kill: Opacity and Masquerade in Claire Denis's J'ai Pas Sommeil
- Conclusion: Past Scripts, Future Visions
- Bibliography
- Index
Conclusion: Past Scripts, Future Visions
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- List of Figures
- Acknowledgements
- A Note on Translations
- Introduction
- 1 Costuming Colonial Resistance in the New World
- 2 Fanmi se dra: Cross-gender Fabrications of Identity in Des hommes et des dieux
- 3 Visual Dètours: Refracting the Blan Female Gaze in Haitian Vodou
- 4 Spectatorial Travestisme
- 5 Dressed to Kill: Opacity and Masquerade in Claire Denis's J'ai Pas Sommeil
- Conclusion: Past Scripts, Future Visions
- Bibliography
- Index
Summary
The trope of the crossroads in the Caribbean imagination is a meeting point, a space of convergence imbued with potentiality. For M. Jacqui Alexander, it is ‘the place where we put down and discard the unnecessary in order to pick up that which is necessary’ (2005: 8). I propose the crossroads in this final part of the book as a means to reflect back on some of the intricate points of ideological entanglement that have shaped the visual stereotypes, visions and in/visible subjectivities explored in this study, and connect forward to consider the scope of new articulations of the self. In Haitian Vodou, Papa Legba, the guardian of the crossroads, regulates ‘traffic between the visible and the invisible worlds’ (Consentino, 1987: 262) and offers direction to those who serve the spirits. The vèvè invitation to Legba sketches the cardinal points in a compass formation on the Earth, emblematic of the navigation the spirits provide to negotiate the intersections between inside/outside and old/new power relations in Haiti, and the Black Atlantic more generally. Legba's liminality, as discussed in the Introduction to this book, means that he is often seen to straddle this world and the next. In conversation with Donald Cosentino, the late Ati Max Beauvoir described a statue of Legba he had procured in Dahomey: ‘One of the statue's legs is trousered and the other is bare […] because Legba walks on the earth and skims through the air maintaining communications between loa and men’ (1987: 267). As a refraction of a family lineage that has been violently transported, translated and transfigured from Eshu-Elegba in Yorubaland and Legba in Dahomey to a Haitian context, the Gede in their asymmetric sunglasses look through one lens to the past and through the other to the future. The necessity for Legba in Haiti, Elegba (or Ogu) in Cuba or Eshu in Brazil stems from a necessity to form mirror images of other selves in the face of enduring neocolonialisms and imperialisms. When Legba and the Gede look toward the future they are enacting an anticipatory ‘queer’ hope, unravelling the past in order to imagine the possibility for another world.
- Type
- Chapter
- Information
- Entangled OthernessCross-gender Fabrications in the Francophone Caribbean, pp. 217 - 230Publisher: Liverpool University PressPrint publication year: 2018