![]() ![]() In one typical exchange, a pair of Nightingales discuss whether invisibility could be verified. His characters’ repartee is as vivacious, comedic, and period-perfect as a Billy Wilder picture-but more nonsensical. One side is the material world, the other the realm of the Invisibles, and Haiti is one of those rare places on earth where mortals such as ourselves are always crossing over.” “Some say crossroads split the world in two. ![]() “My suspicions about Haiti are spiritual in nature.” ![]() “It’s not the Communists we fear in Haiti, oh no!” says one US agent. The island is a representation of deep Western fears-something to do with voodoo religion, zombies, and teeming, irrepressible nature. No matter: as Happy Talk’s caricaturesque characters circuitously navigate the book’s surreal scenarios, their author conjures an atmospheric, dreamlike vision of Haiti and bushwhacks to its conceptual heart. Like the Bums’ and Nightingales’ missions, Melo’s plot doesn’t have much direction. The Department of State wants to make Haiti the next Hawaii, but there’s one small problem: there are no waves. Meanwhile, the “Useless Bums,” a movie crew, arrive on the island with a directive to shoot a tourism-boosting film about the new fad of surfing. ![]()
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