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Vodou Songs in Haitian Creole and English. Benjamin Hebblethwaite. Philadelphia PA: Temple University Press, 2011. xi + 366 pp. (Paper US$ 39.95)
Chiefly a catalog of traditional songs central to Vodou, the “hereditary
religion and philosophy” of Haiti (p. 299), this book lays Haitian Kreyòl
lyrics side-by-side with English translations.1 The six-hundred-plus songs
are grouped by collection; collectors include prominent figures known for
their ethnographic work between 1920 and 1950, such as Jacques Roumain,
Werner Jaegerhuber, Jean Price-Mars, and Harold Courlander, as well as
a refugee who immigrated to the United States as a teenager during the
mid-1990s. In addition, Hebblethwaite contributed ten song texts collected
in 2000. While song lyrics comprise two-thirds of the text, the book also
offers a 98-page dictionary of Vodou terms covering individual spirits (the
lwa), rites, and ritual elements of practice and performance. The first chapter provides a rapid gloss of the “world of Vodou songs,” including descriptions of Bondye (God) and the lwa, Vodou priests and priestesses, and
sacred spaces and objects. Drawing on lyrical excerpts, Hebblethwaite also
attempts to demonstrate how common themes such as syncretism, ethics,
and the ancestors are treated in the Haitian song tradition. An appendix
offers a systematic explanation of Kreyòl grammar based on syntactical
guidelines explicated by Michel DeGraff (2007) and illustrated using Kreyòl
phrases drawn from song lyrics reproduced in the book.
Outside of archival holdings, Vodou Songs may provide the largest collection of Vodou song texts accessible to English-speaking audiences. Yet
several other catalog-like sources should be noted. Among these are Max
Beauvoir’s 2008 volume containing Kreyòl lyrics for 1,763 songs and Harold
Courlander’s 1960 classic. The latter interweaves rich ethnography with
song texts in both Kreyòl and English, and includes musical transcriptions
of 186 songs.
Vodou Songs is touted as a “starting point for the study” of Vodou and
Haitian Kreyòl (p. 3), although realistically it may be more useful to readers
with a strong understanding of Haitian culture, language, and religion. Notwithstanding the interesting read, I have several fundamental ­reservations
1 Credit should be given to seven University of Florida graduate and undergraduate
students who provided assistance with transcription, translation, research, and general
preparation of the document: Chris Ballengee, Joanne Bartley, Vanessa Brissault, Erica
Felker-Kantor, Quinn Hansen, Andrew Tarter, and Kat Warwick.
© 2013 Rebecca Dirksen
DOI: 10.1163/22134360-12340098
This is an open-access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0
Unported (CC BY-NC 3.0) License, http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/
462
Book Reviews
about relying on this book as an introductory source. According to
Hebblethwaite, “The primary goal of this volume is to introduce readers of
English and Haitian Creole to the language, mythology, philosophy, origins,
and culture of Vodou through source songs” (p. 3). This is an ambitious proposition to accomplish in a single tome, and, as an ethnomusicologist, I wonder whether songs texts in themselves can provide sufficient background for
those unfamiliar with the ways and workings of Haiti. To accomplish the
stated goal, contextualizing and annotating each selected song text seems
an unavoidable, if daunting, task that is not tackled here. Hebblethwaite
further asserts that the bilingual publication of Vodou songs “is crucial for
understanding the Vodouist’s perspective” (p. 3). Simply publishing lyrics
is unlikely to provide a gateway into understanding anyone else’s perspective. Arguably, translation and curation must occur beyond the literal translation of words from one language to another.
This reaction may come from my orientation as an ethnographer working in Haiti. Although this book is purportedly ethnographically informed,
I found little evidence of field-based ethnography written into the text: the
longest section of prose—the first chapter—is built around a literature
review enhanced by song lyrics to punctuate standard themes, as noted
above. Each remaining chapter is prefaced by at most three pages largely
describing the collection from which the examples had come.
Hebblethwaite approaches translation quite literally, and the translations appear to be mostly accurate and consistent. However, I have four
primary concerns with regard to using song lyrics to generate rules of grammar. First, meanings often lie at the level of deep subtext. Kreyòl is known
for its complex layers, double entendre, and playfulness of expression, so
direct translations are not always adequate. Second, many Haitians readily
concede that the meaning behind traditional songs, especially those associated with Vodou, is sometimes elusive. Third, the use of language in songs
is typically different from ordinary speech patterns in terms of rhythm,
meter, and phrasing. Looking for language patterns in lyrics will reveal the
most about language patterns in lyrics. Fourth, most of the selected songs
were recorded in the mid-1900s. Language is a continually evolving phenomenon. It is therefore unreasonable to expect that generalizations made
from these older sources will accurately reflect current language practices.
Other facets of this book prompted additional misgivings over matters of representation. Disconcertingly, chapter titles, such as “Benjamin
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463
Hebblethwaite’s Songs,” give the impression of attributing song authorship
to the collector. Also, certain songs do not exclusively fall within the purview of Vodou and in fact carry broad cultural significance across many
sectors of Haitian society. Two such texts caught my attention: “Ti Zwazo”
(p. 184) and “Fèy-O” (p. 187, called “Fèy yo”). “Ti Zwazo,” for example, is presented as though the teenage immigrant wrote it himself; in reality, it is
a favorite traditional song frequently sung to children. Furthermore, prior
knowledge is necessary to interpret numerous unexplained comments,
such as “The drum wears a white dress and a bonnet” (p. 53). Moreover, for
a linguistic-based text, it is strange that Bondye (God) (p. 11) is also spelled
Bondje (p. 47). Consistency, with a simple acknowledgement of the alternate spelling, would have been preferable.
Still, I admire Hebblethwaite for the gumption to tackle this enormous
project, which is clearly a labor of love. His research is heading in an interesting direction and is sure to evolve further. The book is highly usable for
readers who already possess the tools to navigate beyond certain conceptual complexities, including those cited in this review. Personally, I am
most excited about the dictionary, which delves into greater detail than
most existing glossaries. Despite certain limitations, Vodou Songs is a valuable resource that I am pleased to add to my personal collection.
Rebecca Dirksen
Music and Theater Arts, Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Cambridge MA 02139, U.S.A.
[email protected]
References
Beauvoir, Max, 2008. Le Grand Recueil Sacré, ou Répertoire des Chansons du Vodou Haïtien.
Port-au-Prince: Edisyon Près Nasyonal d’Ayiti.
Courlander, Harold, 1960. The Drum and the Hoe: Life and Lore of the Haitian People. Berkeley: University of California Press.
DeGraff, Michel, 2007. Haitian Creole. In John Holm & Peter Patrick (eds.), Comparative
Creole Syntax: Parallel Outlines of 18 Creole Grammars. London: Battlebridge, pp. 101-126.