A real estate broker named Magnolia is selling generic new houses in Miami. She goes to the mall to buy her child a birthday gift and ends up hunkering down under a table in a restaurant as a live shooting is in progress. As she lies on the floor, hugging her bag, she realizes how serious the situation is. She feels terrified and permanently marked by the pain of the moment, which causes her to think about the suffering of others, specifically those who tried to escape the terrors of 9/11.

Magnolia is eventually ushered out safely. But no matter how many times her husband or her boss left her messages, fearful about her lack of communication that afternoon, and regardless of how many times people bring it up, Magnolia refuses to tell anyone the truth about where she was during the onslaught. Eventually, this experience will lead her to assess all of her relationships and the ways in which humans have so little control over protecting their loved ones in this society.

"Magnolia is such a deftly layered character.... With her personal and literary history of pain, Edwidge Danticat cements her reputation with DÈY, an A+ addition to an already impressive oeuvre."

DÈY is very much about Miami’s Little Haiti rebirth as new, gleaming properties build up against the perfect blue skies. The Haitian families are pushed out as small businesses struggle and landmarks meaningful to the culture are going to be knocked down for more bourgeois pursuits.

The actual Haiti is also represented by the fact that Magnolia’s parents and stepbrother still live on the island and suffer the consequences of gang violence, which threatens their lives and especially her mother’s medical needs. The only way Magnolia can speak with them is through a series of shaky phone conversations and voice notes that crack in the middle because of satellite issues. Is this all there is now --- the pain of not being able to get them out of a disintegrating homeland?

As Edwidge Danticat says, “DÈY, a Haitian Kreyòl word for grief and mourning, is not only about heartache. It’s also about a family trying to stay meaningfully connected across distance while yearning to feel rooted in the different places they call home. It’s about devotion to loved ones, to community, and to the quiet rituals that keep us going through impossible times.”

In Danticat’s beautiful streamlined prose, Magnolia’s dying marriage, her relationship with her child, and the old-world ways of her family trapped in a downward spiral are all broadcast with a foundation built from both pain and the hope that maybe --- as Magnolia helps rich people find new homes --- the money she makes can be used to shore up her own loved ones in much lesser means.

Magnolia is such a deftly layered character. Readers will run the gamut between pain and joy, anger and fear, hope and despair, through her calm and thoughtful narration. Danticat presents the most devastating of circumstances with a specific and unwavering prose style that moves you through the story slowly and surely. She presents us with Magnolia’s thoughtfulness and changing views in the same way that one would discover them if they were talking to a friend over days and weeks of a difficult time. Magnolia moves steadily into your heart and doesn’t let go.

With her personal and literary history of pain, Edwidge Danticat cements her reputation with DÈY, an A+ addition to an already impressive oeuvre.