To be a queer, trans, and Haitian is to constantly hold conflict in your heart. It is to feel dizzying levels of pride, especially now that more people are recognizing Haiti's achievement in becoming the world's first free Black republic, and to feel devastating despair knowing the majority of your countrymen believe that your existence is antithetical to being Haitian. The Haitian Revolution was won 222 years ago today and we celebrate that feat, but how many Haitians remember that the revolution started with a Vodou ceremony in Bwa Kayiman in 1791? That enslaved descendants of the Fon and Dahomeans—tribes in which queerness and gender fluidity were part of life—sacrificed and swore to their gods to revolt against their masters and brought forth their freedom?

The divide between queer pride and Haitian pride is a chasm waiting to be bridged by understanding. Luckily, there are already wonderful organizations like Kouraj Haiti who have started the work of increasing awareness and fighting stigma. Devil of the Deep is my contribution to this important conversation. It is queer and trans and deeply Haitian. 

Devil of the Deep tells the story of a people separated from their ancestral beliefs by colonial powers and their loss of identity over time. It's the story of a Haitian pirate captain forced to choose between her heart and her crew. It's the story of a young Haitian girl finding her own identity after separating from the community into which she was born. It's the story of a young Haitian man trying to balance his greatness with his goodness in the face of increasingly taxing demands.

Devil of the Deep is also unapologetic in its queerness. The world is a queer normative, fictionalized version of the Caribbean Isles; the characters have romantic entanglements that fall all along the queer spectrum; and the story features an honest depiction of trans identity that mirrors what is too often the reality for a lot of folks. This juxtaposition of queerness and transness with Haitian culture—with the Haitian grit that won us our freedom—was an intentional choice to fly in the face of the commonly held belief that to be queer is to be something other than Haitian. 

It is possible—not easy—to love something and want it to be better. In fact, I believe loving something means wanting the best for it. Haiti, you have achieved so much but there is more work to be done and I will be with you, loving you, being proud of you every step of the way.

Bòn Fèt Endependance from a queer Haitian

Falencia Jean-Francois

Pre-Orders make a massive difference in the early success of a book, especially for Black authors. So please make sure you order your copy of Devil of the Deep today. Here is a direct link: https://bookshop.org/a/87137/9781967967049