It is a wonder to be seen.
Thank you for finding your way to my website. You’ll find here pages linking you to my book publications as well as a series of blog posts (2012-2015), on the post-earthquake situation in Haiti, as well as the crisis occasioned by ruling 168-13 of September 23, 2013 issued against Dominicans of Haitian descent by the Tribunal Court of the Dominican Republic.
This year, two separate translations of my last novel, The Loneliness of Angels, will appear: a Danish translation in the Spring, with the Danish literary press, Rebel With A Cause (as of this writing, out in Spring 2019), and, forthcoming, a Spanish translation with the Colombian literary press, LaSirèn.
In March 2020, my 4th academic monograph, Autochthonomies: Transnationalism, Testimony and Transmission in the African Diaspora, which received a Guggenheim Fellowship, will appear with the University of Illinois University Press. My post-earthquake novel, “Douze” has been placed with a major press (announcement pending!) and I hope will be out in late 2020, in time for the 10th year commemoration of the 2010 Haiti earthquake, or in very early 2021.
For an excerpt from Douze, please follow the following link below to Il Tolomeo, the comparative literature journal of the University of Venice, Ca’ Foscari, Venice, Italy:
For a short podcast interview on the novel conducted by Nigerian/South African filmmaker, Akin Omotoso, go to:
Finally, in early 2019, I witnessed the passing of my beloved mother, Adeline L. Chancy. For the past two years, I have been giving an open lecture in a course designed for undergraduates. My talk addressed the topic of “women in literature” or who we consider when we speak of a genealogy of women’s literature. The talk covered 3 essays, by Rebecca Solnit, Virginia Woolf, and Jamaica Kincaid respectively, and revolved around Woolf’s conceit that “if we are women, we think through our mothers.” Although I debated this premise in the lecture, just as it is said that seers often learn from their readings for others, I now see in hindsight that I was learning the truth of this statement as my mother passed into another realm.
When I was about 27 years old, my mother called me at age 64 and recently retired, to tell me that she did not want to die without having known me. There began a process of deepening our acquaintance as mother and daughter, then as friends, later as accomplices. She learned to understand my fluidity as a person who could just as well fall in love with a man as with a woman as with flowers or the fecundity of my own mind on any given day; I learned to see her as a complex, hardy, time-defying woman of many talents who chose anonymity despite these. By the time she was struck with multiple illnesses, including two cancers, there was nothing unsaid between us. I discussed with her everything I wrote and she read everything I produced, even when she did not quite understand it or had to reread it multiple times. She was, at the beginning, my harshest critic, and, in the end, my most loyal companion. And, today, despite her departure, I find that the conversation continues, that I think through my mother. I hope that she continues to think, and exist, through me.
Thanks for the visit!
Myriam J. A. Chancy
Los Angeles, CA
October 5, 2019
“Where love is, there is transformation. Without love, revolution has no meaning, for then revolution is merely destruction, decay, a greater and greater ever-mounting misery. Where there is love, there is revolution, because love is transformation from moment to moment.” – Krishnamurti, The First & Last Freedoms