From oral tradition to the first written documents
Before becoming the object of European envy, Suriname had already seen the settlement of several distinct indigenous groups, notably the Arawaks and Kalinagos. Each of these peoples had their own oral tradition, sometimes shamanic, often legendary, as revealed in the collection Contes arawak des Guyanes (published by Karthala), in which we discover, in wonder, that men can transform themselves into jaguars or parrots. With colonization came slavery, and from the slaves - and their descendants, whether Maroons or Creoles - a new oral literature was born. This included the Afro-Surinamese Winti religion - similar to the more familiar Haitian voodoo - in which it is said that the world was created by Anana Kedyaman Kedyanpon and is inhabited by spirits. Similarly, the character ofAnansi, who alternately takes on the appearance of a human and that of a spider, can be found on this side of the Atlantic, despite its origins in West African folklore. This corpus - spiritual or mythological - is sometimes combined with dance and music, and even with scenic expression thanks to the doe-theater, where protagonists, inspired by plantation occupants, perform playlets that are readily political. After 1863, this genre evolved into laku, featuring new archetypes such as the Snesi (Chinese) or the Koeli (Hindu): the abolition of slavery had led to a form of servitude that no longer bore its name, and the new "workers" were recruited from the Asian continent. Here again, these distant heritages gave rise to Surinamese versions, such as wayang, a shadow play borrowed from Java, jaran kepang (horse dance) and baithak gana, a Hindustani musical style.
While the intermingling of populations constantly irrigated the oral tradition, written literature also germinated in this fertile soil. Apart from the first travel accounts, which drew on the myth of El Dorado, and certain diaries - including that of the Dutch traveler Elisabeth van der Woude (1657-1698), which is not without a certain style - it was above all the issue of slavery that fired the pens of certain writers. We might mention the Englishwoman Aphra Behn (1640-1689), who published Oroonoko in 1688, recounting the sad fate of the African Imoinda, victim of the triangular trade because betrayed by a rival lover, and of course Voltaire (1694-1778), whose famous Candide (1759) features a Surinamese slave. Another text was fundamental in the denunciation of slavery and was widely used to obtain its abolition: that of Jean-Gabriel Stedman, an officer born of a Scottish father and Dutch mother in 1744. Having taken part in the suppression of a slave revolt in Suriname from 1772 to 1777, his account of the abuses inflicted was so vivid that it was translated and reprinted many times, with explicit engravings to reinforce its message. Although it is no longer possible to obtain his Voyage à Surinam in French, it is nevertheless possible to discover his life in Capitaine Stedman ou le négrier sentimental, a historical novel by Christophe Grosidier published by L'Harmattan. The image of a colony that was particularly cruel to blacks was finally confirmed in a play published under the pseudonym Don Experientia in 1771. In Het Surinaamsche Leeven, the author - still unknown - painted a satirical, uncompromising portrait of a society where profit was the only thing that counted. At the same time, another anonymous novel appeared, Geschiedenis van een neger, in which a white man allows his daughter to marry a particularly intelligent black man, perhaps inspired by the much-maligned Graman Quassi (1692-1787), a freed slave who became a renowned botanist... and hunter of runaway slaves (Maroons) on behalf of the colonial government. In the same vein, mysterious letters appeared in De Denker magazine in 1764. Also denouncing slavery, they were signed by Kakera Akotie, who claimed to have been sold into slavery in Suriname. His identity has been questioned, but if confirmed, he would be the first Surinamese writer of African origin.
Asserting an identity
While life in the colony continued to interest the metropolis - as confirmed by the Reinhart by the poet Elisabeth Maria Post (1755-1812) - an intellectual life was developing on the spot. David Nassy (1747-1806) published an important Essai historique sur la colonie de Surinam in 1789. The search for a national identity encouraged exchanges between different ethnic groups, particularly in the theater. In addition, new press titles appeared, a library was inaugurated in 1783, and literary circles were formed, for example by Paul François Roos, Jacob Voegen van Engelen and Hendrik Schouten. Significantly, all three were born in the Netherlands but ended their lives in Suriname, a sign of their attachment to their new country, and also a sign that, from a cultural point of view, the colony was beginning to emancipate itself, even if the use of the Dutch language was still de rigueur. A new milestone was reached with the 1878 law on public and compulsory education, for until then, no educational mission had been envisaged for the overseas territories, except for the children of wealthy colonists. In the same vein, Cristina van Gogh began writing stories for young people.
However, the 19th century and its literature reached a turning point when slavery was abolished in 1863, as the Reverend Cornelius van Schaik, who had left the country two years earlier, had foreseen. His novel De Manja not only described the decline of the plantations, but also featured numerous dialogues in Sranan, a trick also used by Kwamina (pseudonym of A. Lionarons, 1827-env.1913), who can be considered the first true native writer: he was born and died in Suriname. In Jetta (1869) and Nanni (1881), he describes his times, the economy seeking to reinvent itself, while evoking the love affairs of a wealthy mulatto. There's no denying it: writing and characters mix, as do society and writers. Matawai missionary Johannes King, for example, indulges in autobiography, recounting his life and that of his people, describing his dreams and visions, in thousands of pages written entirely in Sranan.
The transition to the twentieth century still suffers from a nasty nostalgia - whether in the Netherlands or Suriname, some people regret slavery and continue to make racist remarks - but modernity is on the march. With it comes a certain realism that sometimes takes on a biting edge, as in the novel Een Beschavingswerk, in which Richard O'Ferral (under the pseudonym Ultimus) mocks the government's megalomania, or in the collection of poems Matrozenrozen, in which George Rustwijk laments the state of Dutch Guiana compared to French and British Guiana. Ludwig Ernest Thijm writes folk songs - some of which have brought him into conflict with the authorities - and represents the missing link between oral tradition and written literature. For his part, poet Eugène Rellum (1896-1989) did not choose: he wrote in both Dutch and Sranan. Finally, Anton de Kom (1898-1945), son of a freed slave, lived on both sides of the ocean. A fervent advocate of decolonization - and a member of the Resistance during the Second World War - his book Wij slaven van Suriname(We, the Slaves of Suriname), published in an expurgated version in 1934, remains a classic. A few years earlier, Albert Helman (1903-1996) had published Zuid-zuid-west, a novel denouncing the exploitation of Suriname by the colonists. Johanna Schouten-Elsenhout and later Henri Frans de Ziel were also committed to the new idea of independence, which was strengthened by contact with American soldiers during the Second World War.
From the 20th to the 21st century
In 1954, the Netherlands granted Suriname autonomy. During this decade, literary life revived after the gloomy interwar period: authors who had gone into exile returned (like Albert Helman, who became a minister), readership grew and diversified, Foetoe-boi magazine devoted itself entirely to Creole culture, and new languages began to make their mark, like Hindi thanks to Bhai (1935-2018), future winner of the Gaanman Gazon Matodja prize. At the political level, it was the poets who proclaimed that the desire for independence would not dry up, such as Michaël Slory (1935-2018) and above all R. Dobru (1935-1983) who, with Wan bon, affirmed his dream of a united and free Surinamese people.
Independence, finally achieved in 1975, was followed by a period of serious turmoil during which writers were forced into silence, but since the mid-1980s literary life has regained momentum. It was at this time that Cynthia McLeod published her first historical novel, Hoe duur was de Suiker? and Astrid Roemer and Edgar Cairo - who had already made a name for themselves in the 70s - began publishing again, the former with novels and an autobiography, the latter with poetry and radio plays. Numerous female voices were also making themselves heard, and without aiming to be exhaustive, we might mention Ellen Louise Ombre(Maalstroom, Negerjood in moderland, etc.), Annette de Vries, Ismene Krishnadath who, as an author and editor, specialized in children's literature, as did Marylin Simons, born in 1959. Her contemporary, Mala Kishundajal, works in several registers - theater and novels - and has written about immigration. Last but not least, Marijke van Mil, who has lived in the Netherlands since she was a teenager, has not forgotten her roots and has drawn on the tales told to her by her grandmother for several books, while Karin Amatmoekrim, also an expatriate, also drew on family history for Waneer wij samen zjin, before receiving the Black Magic Woman Award in 2009 for Titus. A new generation is now sailing freely between the two continents, as Raoul de Jong's career path proves. Born in Rotterdam in 1984, but of Surinamese descent through his father, whom he had never met, it was when he received an unexpected e-mail from his father that he decided to cross the ocean in search of his roots. This journey inspired him to write Jaguarman, translated into French by Buchet Chastel.
