Notre Anthony Que Voici: Homage to Anthony Phelps

What a whirlwind of emotions this month has been for Haitian literature! We’ve had to say goodbye to not one, but two extraordinary individuals who shaped our literary landscape. Just recently, we mourned the loss of the amazing Frankétienne, and now we must share our heartfelt farewells to the incredible Anthony Phelps.

Fans of Haitian literature around the world received the news of the great poet's passing on March 11th at the age of 97 in Montreal, Canada, with heavy hearts.

Phelps embraced life vibrantly and left a significant legacy in Haitian literature, inspiring countless writers. During François Duvalier's oppressive regime, he allied with poets like Villard Denis Davertige, Serge Legagneur and René Philoctète, to form the literary group Haïti Littéraire, fostering community and expression amidst censorship.

In 1963, he published “Mon pays que voici,” a profound exploration of Haitian identity and culture. Shortly after, the Tonton Macoutes imprisoned him. After his release, he sought refuge in Canada in 1964, where he continued to advocate for human rights through his writing. His remarkable journey and contributions have undeniably enriched Haiti’s literary scene and continue to inspire readers worldwide.

In sharing this post, I want to take a moment to celebrate and honor the cherished memory of Anthony Phelps, this remarkable figure in Haitian literature whose profound words will forever resonate in our hearts. This is my heartfelt way of keeping his spirit alive in my memories, my stories, and my cultural heritage.

The power and vibrancy of Anthony Phelps’ poetry are too magnificent to fully capture in English. Our mother tongue flows through his gifted pen in a way that feels untranslatable. So, as I toggle between English and French, blending his powerful verse with my own attempts at litterary expression, I hope to honor Our Anthony—Notre Anthony Que Voici!

J’ai passé une nuit blanche le 11 mars. Kokoriko, Il est minuit. C’est le coq du quartier déraillé, déchainé, Qui n’annonce rien de particulier.
Ça, c’est notre pays que voici.

As the full moon approached, I spent another sleepless night. Sleep eludes me whenever there is a full moon. Apparently, it’s a Leo thing some say. This particular night, I was captivated by the moving words of Anthony Phelps and the deep voice of Syto Cavé reciting his prose.

“Ô mon pays,
je t'aime comme un être de chair,
Je connais ta souffrance,
je vois ta misère.
Dans l’ombre des luttes,
ta voix s’est levée,
Pour la dignité,
pour la liberté.
Quelle main a dessiné sur le registre des nations,
Une petite étoile à côté de ton nom ?
Toi qui as bravé les tempêtes,
Avec rage et passion,
tu as ouvert la voie,
Pour ceux qui n'ont que leur voix.”

Oh, my dear country, I cherish you like a living soul!

Phelps truly captured the heart of Haiti in his writings, pouring out both its beauty and struggles. His passion shines through, and he was never shy about expressing his frustration toward injustices—love and honesty all wrapped up in one!

“À quoi bon ce passé de douleurs et de gloire
Et à quoi bon dix-huit cent quatre.”

“What good is this past of pain and glory — and what good is 1804?”

Although written decades ago, these lines resonate more than ever today. They remind us of the enduring struggles of our nation. His same question remains and raises a fury in many of us.

Pow pow! 3 AM. Still awake. Oh Yankee, what have you done? Qui ose rire dans le noir? Yankee of my heart, I wait in the night for the wind to change air.

“Qui ose rire dans le noir ?
Nous n’avons plus de bouche pour parler
Les mots usuels sont arrondis
collants du miel de la résignation
et la parole feutrée de peur
s’enroule dans nos cerveaux capitonnés.”

Tristement, c’est notre pays que voici.

"Le temps n’est plus au jeu
nous avons dépassé le chant des marionnettes
Le temps n’est plus au sommeil
nous avons dépassé le chant de l’enfant do
Et l’enfant ne dormira pas
il fait un temps de veille
Mon Pays a un caillot de sang dans la gorge."

Notre Anthony que voici delivered powerful poetry and became a source of strength in the fight for dignity and freedom in Haiti. His pen lifted the voices of the oppressed, shining a light on their struggles and dreams. Phelps confronted social and political injustices with courage, making his work especially relevant during challenging times. His words inspire us to stand against corruption and violence, igniting our desire to reflect and take meaningful action.

He really leaves a lasting impression on Haitian and Francophone literature! His writing has been translated into several languages, earning him comparisons to legends like Aimé Césaire and Pablo Neruda. With an incredible body of work that includes 18 poetry collections, 4 novels, a short story collection, two plays, and a collection of tales, he is absolutely prolific. Even in the darkest moments of his life, while confined in a cell, he found the strength to write words that reflected his indomitable spirit and his love for life.

Port-au-Prince, 1963:

“Dans ma cellule
pour une fleur je donnerais un vers
Tout un poème pour un oiseau
et pour la voix de ceux que j’aime
mon don entier de poésie.”

These words remind us that poetry can flourish despite suffering and that love is a powerful force that transcends all barriers.

Kuikuikui. Suddenly, the sound of flapping wings fills the air. It's the unmistakable sign that my chances of finding sleep are gone. Yet, it's also the delightful herald of dawn that I cherish. The melodic tones of the birds announce the breaking of a new day, even in defiance of the lingering darkness. It’s the sun bidding farewell to the moon. It’s the precious smell of dark roast coffee rising. It’s a new day, bringing new hopes. Today is the day things will turn for the better. Bon Dieu Bon! Ah oui, ça aussi, c’est notre pays que voici.

Reflecting on Anthony Phelps's life, we celebrate his resilience as a shining example of the human spirit, demonstrating that we can overcome challenges and find beauty in adversity. His profound love for Haiti, reflected in his writings, reminds us that our cultural connections make us whole. As we honor him, we recognize a legacy that endures through his powerful words. His unwavering commitment to social justice and deep affection for Haiti should continue to inspire new generations of writers and artists, reminding us that every voice matters and that we can transform the world through the power of words.

“Ô mon pays
nous pétrissons pour toi des visages nouveaux.
Il te faut des héros vivants et non des morts.”

Today, our Anthony, may you rest in eternal peace and find your pen once more to celebrate your poetic talent. May you forever hear the voices of those you loved and who loved you in return. May you see that bird soaring high into the setting sun, and may you walk through flower-filled paths, just as you gifted us your eternal love for prose.

Rest in peace, Anthony Phelps. Your light will continue to guide us through our story. Dort, mon enfant, dort.

“Il est venu le jour des cerfs-volants
avec le vent chantant l’amour
sur le double clavier
des branches de couleur. 
Il est venu le jour de plein soleil
avec des fleurs à chaque branche
et dans les mains l’épi doré
de la bonne récolte.”

Bonne récolte Anthony Phelps. Continue ta lente marche.