The Review of Contemporary Fiction

Chronicle of the Seven Sorrows by Patrick Chamoiseau
Jeffrey DeShell

Patrick Chamoiseau. Chronicle of the Seven Sorrows. Trans. Linda Coverdale. Foreword by Édouard Glissant. Univ. of Nebraska Press, 1999. 226 pp. $25.00.

It is impossible not to like Patrick Chamoiseau’s first novel, Chronicle of the Seven Sorrows. Chamoiseau, winner of the Prix Goncourt for his third novel, Texaco, has written a novel full of everything that would brand it a contemporary classic: rich, lyrical language (spiced with enough Creole to require the included glossary); an oppressed but colorful people (the djobbers, or porters of a Martinique market); and an oral, digressive style with enough screwing, eating, and talking to ghosts to keep us turning the pages. Nebraska added a brilliant translation by Linda Coverdale, a handsome cover, and useful and interesting front and back matter, including the glossary, djobbers songs, and anecdotes and assorted sketches that didn’t make it into the final version.

The framing story details the life of Pipi Soleil, the king of the djobbers, and his various exploits and escapades. The most moving and important adventure is his search for a buried jar of gold, protected through the years by the ghost of Afoukal, a murdered slave. Through his diligent attempt to dig up the treasure, he hears stories from Afoukal, stories that explain the plight of his people, stories that restore to Pipi his racial memory.

Still, with the danger of sounding the humbug, I found the novel a bit safe. The language, even in translation, is amazingly beautiful; the characters are attractive and the stories interesting, but somehow I would have preferred a book that took more risks, that perhaps gave more of an edge to Pipi’s book of listening and remembering. Perhaps it’s due to Chamoiseau’s skill that no seams show, but I found the characters and story too good (almost in the sense of too sweet); not too good to be true, but too good to be memorable. I’m looking forward to reading Texaco to see if he’s sharpened his dagger. [Jeffrey DeShell]


Interview with Founder Board of Directors Funders Submission Guidelines Dalkey Archive Full Catalog Current and Forthcoming Titles Recent Titles Review of Contemporary Fiction Special Library Offer Special Backlist Sale Stores & Wholesalers Academics Libraries Reviewers Context Casebooks Author Interviews Links Dalkey Archive News Events Newsletter

The Review of Contemporary Fiction Chronicle of the Seven Sorrows by Patrick Chamoiseau Jeffrey DeShell Patrick Chamoiseau. Chronicle of the Seven Sorrows. Trans. Linda Coverdale. Foreword by Édouard Glissant. Univ. of Nebraska Press, 1999. 226 pp. $25.00. It is impossible not to like Patrick Chamoiseau’s first novel, Chronicle of the Seven Sorrows. Chamoiseau, winner of the Prix Goncourt for his third novel, Texaco, has written a novel full of everything that would brand it a contemporary classic: rich, lyrical language (spiced with enough Creole to require the included glossary); an oppressed but colorful people (the djobbers, or porters of a Martinique market); and an oral, digressive style with enough screwing, eating, and talking to ghosts to keep us turning the pages. Nebraska added a brilliant translation by Linda Coverdale, a handsome cover, and useful and interesting front and back matter, including the glossary, djobbers songs, and anecdotes and assorted sketches that didn’t make it into the final version. The framing story details the life of Pipi Soleil, the king of the djobbers, and his various exploits and escapades. The most moving and important adventure is his search for a buried jar of gold, protected through the years by the ghost of Afoukal, a murdered slave. Through his diligent attempt to dig up the treasure, he hears stories from Afoukal, stories that explain the plight of his people, stories that restore to Pipi his racial memory. Still, with the danger of sounding the humbug, I found the novel a bit safe. The language, even in translation, is amazingly beautiful; the characters are attractive and the stories interesting, but somehow I would have preferred a book that took more risks, that perhaps gave more of an edge to Pipi’s book of listening and remembering. Perhaps it’s due to Chamoiseau’s skill that no seams show, but I found the characters and story too good (almost in the sense of too sweet); not too good to be true, but too good to be memorable. I’m looking forward to reading Texaco to see if he’s sharpened his dagger. [Jeffrey DeShell]

Search the full text of our books: