Commandeering Aesop’s Bamboo Canon: A 19th Century Confederacy of Creole Fugitive Fables

In my thesis, “Commandeering Aesop’s Bamboo Canon: A 19th Century Confederacy of Creole Fugitive Fables,” I ask and answer the ‘Who? What? Where? When? Why?” of Creole Literature using the 19th century production of Aesopian fables as clues to resolve a set of linguistic, historical, literary, and geographical enigmas pertaining the ‘birth-place(s)’ of Creolophone Literatures in the Caribbean Sea, North and South America, as well as the Indian Ocean. Focusing on the fables in Martinique (1846), Reunion Island (1826), and Mauritius (1822), my thesis should read be as an attempt capture the links between these islands through the creation of a particular archive defined as a cartulary-chronicle, a diplomatic codex, or simply a map in which I chart and trace the flight of the founding documents relating to the lives of the individual authors, editors, and printers in order to illustrate the articulation of a formal and informal confederation that enabled the global and local institutional promotion of Creole Literature. While I integrate various genres and multi-polar networks between the authors of this 19th century canon comprised of sacred and secular texts such as proclamations, catechisms, and proverbs, the principle literary genre charted in my thesis are collections of fables inspired by French 17th century French Classical fabulist, Jean de la Fontaine. Often described as the ‘matrix’ of Creolophone Literature, these blues and fables constitute the base of the canon, and are usually described as either ‘translated,’ ‘adapted,’ and even ‘cross-dressed’ into Creole in all of the French Creolophone spaces. My documentation of their transnational sprouting offers proof of an opaque canonical formation of Creole popular literature. By constituting this archive, I emphasize the fact that despite 200 years of critical reception and major developments and discoveries on behalf of Creole language pedagogues, literary scholars, linguists, historians, librarians, archivist, and museum curators, up until now not only have none have curated this literature as a formal canon. I also offer new empirical evidence in order to try and solve the enigma of “How?” the fables materially circulated between the islands, and seek to come to terms with the anonymous nature of the texts, some of which were published under pseudonyms. I argue that part of the confusion on the part of scholars has been the result of being willfully taken by surprise or defrauded by the authors, or ‘bamboozled’ as I put it. The major paradigmatic shift in my thesis is that while I acknowledge La Fontaine as the base of this literary canon, I ultimately bypass him to trace the ancient literary genealogy of fables to the infamous Aesop the Phrygian, whose biography – the first of a slave in the history of the world – and subsequent use of fables reflects a ‘hidden transcript’ of ‘masked political critique’ between ‘master and slave classes’ in the 4th Century B.C.E. Greece.

This archive draws on, connects and critiques the methodologies of several disciplinary fields. I use post-colonial literary studies to map the literary genealogies Aesop; use a comparative historical approach to the abolitions of slavery in both the 19th century Caribbean and the Indian Ocean; and chart the early appearance of folk music in early colonial societies through Musicology and Performance Studies. Through the use of Sociolinguistics and theories of language revival, ecology, and change, I develop an approach of ‘reflexive Creolistics’ that I ultimately hope will offer new educational opportunities to Creole speakers. While it is my desire that this archive serves linguists, book collectors, and historians for further scientific inquiry into the innate international nature of Creole language, I also hope that this innovative material defense and illustration of Creole Literature will transform the consciousness of Creolophones (native and non-native) who too remain ‘bamboozled’ by the archive. My goal is to erase the ‘unthinkability’ of the existence of this ancient maritime creole literary canon from the collective cultural imaginary of readers around the globe.

Cholera in Haiti and other Caribbean regions, 19th century.

Medical journals and other sources do not show evidence that cholera occurred in Haiti before 2010, despite the devastating effect of this disease in the Caribbean region in the 19th century. Cholera occurred in Cuba in 1833-1834; in Jamaica, Cuba, Puerto Rico, St. Thomas, St. Lucia, St. Kitts, Nevis, Trinidad, the Bahamas, St. Vincent, Granada, Anguilla, St. John, Tortola, the Turks and Caicos, the Grenadines (Carriacou and Petite Martinique), and possibly Antigua in 1850-1856; and in Guadeloupe, Cuba, St. Thomas, the Dominican Republic, Dominica, Martinique, and Marie Galante in 1865-1872. Conditions associated with slavery and colonial military control were absent in independent Haiti. Clustered populations, regular influx of new persons, and close quarters of barracks living contributed to spread of cholera in other Caribbean locations. We provide historical accounts of the presence and spread of cholera epidemics in Caribbean islands.

Distribution and Conservation of the Antillean Manatee in Hispaniola

Antillean manatees (Trichechus manatus manatus) were heavily hunted in the past throughout the Wider Caribbean Region (WCR), and are currently listed as endangered on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species. In most WCR countries, including Haiti and the Dominican Republic, remaining manatee populations are believed to be small and declining, but current information is needed on their status, distribution, and local threats to the species.

To assess the past and current distribution and conservation status of the Antillean manatee in Hispaniola, I conducted a systematic review of documentary archives dating from the pre-Columbian era to 2013. I then surveyed more than 670 artisanal fishers from Haiti and the Dominican Republic in 2013-2014 using a standardized questionnaire. Finally, to identify important areas for manatees in the Dominican Republic, I developed a country-wide ensemble model of manatee distribution, and compared modeled hotspots with those identified by fishers.

Manatees were historically abundant in Hispaniola, but were hunted for their meat and became relatively rare by the end of the 19th century. The use of manatee body parts diversified with time to include their oil, skin, and bones. Traditional uses for folk medicine and handcrafts persist today in coastal communities in the Dominican Republic. Most threats to Antillean manatees in Hispaniola are anthropogenic in nature, and most mortality is caused by fisheries. I estimated a minimum island-wide annual mortality of approximately 20 animals. To understand the impact of this level of mortality, and to provide a baseline for measuring the success of future conservation actions, the Dominican Republic and Haiti should work together to obtain a reliable estimate of the current population size of manatees in Hispaniola.

In Haiti, the survey of fishers showed a wider distribution range of the species than suggested by the documentary archive review: fishers reported recent manatee sightings in seven of nine coastal departments, and three manatee hotspot areas were identified in the north, central, and south coasts. Thus, the contracted manatee distribution range suggested by the documentary archive review likely reflects a lack of research in Haiti. Both the review and the interviews agreed that manatees no longer occupy freshwater habitats in the country. In general, more dedicated manatee studies are needed in Haiti, employing aerial, land, or boat surveys.

In the Dominican Republic, the documentary archive review and the survey of fishers showed that manatees still occur throughout the country, and occasionally occupy freshwater habitats. Monte Cristi province in the north coast, and Barahona province in the south coast, were identified as focal areas. Sighting reports of manatees decreased from Monte Cristi eastwards to the adjacent province in the Dominican Republic, and westwards into Haiti. Along the north coast of Haiti, the number of manatee sighting and capture reports decreased with increasing distance to Monte Cristi province. There was good agreement among the modeled manatee hotspots, hotspots identified by fishers, and hotspots identified during previous dedicated manatee studies. The concordance of these results suggests that the distribution and patterns of habitat use of manatees in the Dominican Republic have not changed dramatically in over 30 years, and that the remaining manatees exhibit some degree of site fidelity. The ensemble modeling approach used in the present study produced accurate and detailed maps of manatee distribution with minimum data requirements. This modeling strategy is replicable and readily transferable to other countries in the Caribbean or elsewhere with limited data on a species of interest.

The intrinsic value of manatees was stronger for artisanal fishers in the Dominican Republic than in Haiti, and most Dominican fishers showed a positive attitude towards manatee conservation. The Dominican Republic is an upper middle income country with a high Human Development Index. It possesses a legal framework that specifically protects manatees, and has a greater number of marine protected areas, more dedicated manatee studies, and more manatee education and awareness campaigns than Haiti. The constant presence of manatees in specific coastal segments of the Dominican Republic, the perceived decline in the number of manatee captures, and a more conservation-minded public, offer hope for manatee conservation, as non-consumptive uses of manatees become more popular. I recommend a series of conservation actions in the Dominican Republic, including: reducing risks to manatees from harmful fishing gear and watercraft at confirmed manatee hotspots; providing alternative economic alternatives for displaced fishers, and developing responsible ecotourism ventures for manatee watching; improving law enforcement to reduce fisheries-related manatee deaths, stop the illegal trade in manatee body parts, and better protect manatee habitat; and continuing education and awareness campaigns for coastal communities near manatee hotspots.

In contrast, most fishers in Haiti continue to value manatees as a source of food and income, and showed a generally negative attitude towards manatee conservation. Haiti is a low income country with a low Human Development Index. Only a single dedicated manatee study has been conducted in Haiti, and manatees are not officially protected. Positive initiatives for manatees in Haiti include: protected areas declared in 2013 and 2014 that enclose two of the manatee hotspots identified in the present study; and local organizations that are currently working on coastal and marine environmental issues, including research and education on marine mammals. Future conservation efforts for manatees in Haiti should focus on addressing poverty and providing viable economic alternatives for coastal communities. I recommend a community partnership approach for manatee conservation, paired with education and awareness campaigns to inform coastal communities about the conservation situation of manatees in Haiti, and to help change their perceived value. Haiti should also provide legal protection for manatees and their habitat.