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Les Moissons du soleil (The Harvests of the Sun), a luminous narrative, jumps between the Mediterranean sky and the warm lands of Africa. In her debut autobiographical French-language novel, Christiane Dagher deftly paints, with humor, lightness, and touching sensitivity, the life of a family over a century, a period spanning three generations. Interwoven events that have shaped history, from the beginning of the 20th century to the present day.
Between Familial Saga and Historical Narrative
Though the tale opens with the famine of the First World War under the Ottoman Empire, it is more than just a novel about exile and emigration. Youssef, a young Lebanese man from the mountains, yearns for the unknown. His journey begins as he boards a ship bound for Cyprus, then the African continent, embarking on a series of adventures from Labé to Dakar, extending to Paris and New York, and even to Sanaa, via Beirut. A lineage of merchants striving for prosperity adapts to the transformations of the past century – a representation of all Lebanese people who, like Hanna, pursue rizk: “I want to go to a place that abounds in harvests.” The family group “Youssef and sons” rides the waves of modernity and wars, through a series of ruptures that separate children and parents in a back-and-forth between Lebanon and Africa, synchronized with political events on both lands: “They remain emigrants seeking to build themselves.”
Subtly, the narrative fabric is constructed with incremental touches, similarly to impressionist painting. A brisk narrative rhythm in brief scenes keeps the reader alert. A lively style transmits the actions. Each chapter stands alone as a micro-narrative, with a cliffhanger that leaves the reader either contemplative or hanging on the narrator’s lips, awaiting the next twist. The mysterious identity of the storyteller is revealed rather late: she’s simply Christiane, Hanna’s daughter, who is immortalizing the journey of her ancestors through this autobiographical account. Simultaneously, she transforms it into an exquisite documentary on customs, precise and varied: a veritable reference document on Lebanese heritage. The reader learns that clay vessels are baked in bardouché and grandmothers preserved “mouné, the winter reserve,” in khebyé, “clay jars,” and much more. However, one must keep pace for “time does not wait.” Ultimately, all paths lead to the mountains of Lebanon, awaiting the return of its sons: “Happy is he who owns a goat pen in Mount Lebanon.”
A Hybrid Identity
Two continents, two cultures, a dual identity. The sense of home bifurcates: “In retracing the path in reverse, they detached their hearts from this land of the Mediterranean. There too, they were at home, and the light was beautiful.”
Under Christiane’s pen, the two landscapes merge into one, the symbiosis so profound that without specific terms to identify the flora, one could completely conflate the Lebanese and African locations. These “green foliage corners, ochre earth, and magenta blue” provide serenity. The synchronicity between man and earth blurs boundaries: man and environment reshape each other over time, in a bustling confluence of languages. These expatriated Lebanese master Arabic, French, Peul, and Wolof equally. The linguistic borrowings scattered throughout the text compose a polyglot blend, reflecting the unique attributes of each culture. Shared evenings with African mammas and fatous include “taboulé” on the koré, the terrace of the Guinean house. An immersive journey springs to life before our eyes!
A Touch of Poetry and Hope
Far from utopian, Christiane possesses a grounded perspective, neither glossing over conflicts nor setbacks within this small evolving community. However, she imbues the text with wise, lucid reflection, delicately seasoned, and ultimately breathes a poetic touch that softens misfortunes and rounds harsh edges, as in Hanna’s “clover-shaped house.” The reader is transported to a world where bougainvillaea attempts “to rival the caresses of the sky, those giant oaks that soar very high,” where women create “ripples in pots and dream bubbles” in children’s heads, where “rivers and streams” court “vast plains and deep valleys.” We are constantly swayed between shops, shelves, account books, and lessons of wisdom that transcend suffering: “Do not let greed lead you down wrong paths, remain united. One for all and all for one.”
Yet another book on exile and emigration, but Christiane Dagher has rendered it unique through her sunny imprint: a message of hope and humility she instills in her readers’ minds. The harvest is yours!
Sana Richa Choucair
