I find myself not sure what to write about Ayiti. It’s a collection of short stories set in Haiti, or with Haitian characters. It evokes Haiti as a place of both beauty and struggle, the sun and the salt of the sea and the stench of blood. The inevitability of kidnap, of beggars, of hunger, of a need to leave. The stories are sensual, some sexual; packed with feeling and meaning.
It’s such a small collection that I feel like all I can remember of it is a cluster of sense-memories: sweat, sugar, blood. For me, it just seemed purely evocative, calling up a Haiti both beloved and hated, with a surprising vividness. If this is the quality of Roxane Gay’s writing, I’m definitely down to read some more.