The Farming Of Bones

“When he’s not there, I’m afraid I know no one and no one knows me.” 

This is part of Amabelle’s internal dialogue. It reveals the dependent nature of her relationship to Sebastien, one in which she often takes on the role of a child.

“I had to calm her, to help her, as she had always counted on me to do, as her father had always counted on me to do.” 

Amabelle makes this comment about Señora Valencia and her father, Papi. In this comment, readers can sense both the subservient role she plays in these relationships, as well as the resentment she harbors towards them.

“I will not have my baby like this […] I will not permit anyone to walk in and see me bare, naked.” 

This comment is made by Señora Valencia. It touches on two major themes in this book. First, readers see the beginning of a book-long discussion about the potential of nudity for both joy and shame. Secondly, readers can see in this statement that in the world of this book, class often dictates action; for the wealthy Dominicans, being seen naked is more often a choice than it is for the poorer Haitians.

“Amabelle do you think my daughter will always be the color she is now […] My poor love, what if she’s mistaken for one of your people?” 

This comment is made by Señora Valencia to Amabelle. It reveals Señora Valencia’s tendency to be condescending to Amabelle and her disregard for Amabelle’s feelings. It also lets readers know that skin color is related to how one will be treated in the novel.

“Many people who consider themselves clever found pleasure in frightening the household workers with marvelous tales of the outside world, a world they supposed we would never see for ourselves.” 

This quote shows that for Amabelle and the society she lives in, household worker is considered an identity, not a job. The quote also reveals that the upper class actively work to keep the upper hand, flaunting their intelligence and refusing to share it except to mock those below them.

“I was always very jealous of the time he spent on other people’s land.” 

Amabelle says this about her deceased father. This quote shows readers that Amabelle harbors resentment towards her father. It also teases a question that comes up again and again in this novel: how much can one help others without hurting oneself?

“Working for others, you learn to be present and invisible at the same time.” 

Amabelle has this thought as she is running errands for Señor Pico. It provides insight into the self-effacement she has learned and why she sometimes remains childlike in nature, having never had much power to exert.

“(E)verything I had was something Señora Valencia had once owned and no longer wanted. Everything except Sebastien.” 

When Amabelle has this thought, her resentment towards her diminished role in life and towards Señora Valencia is confirmed. Readers can also confirm Amabelle’s dependency on Sebastien for happiness and identity in this passage.

“Do you think you and I will live long enough to be as old as Doña Eva?” 

When Amabelle asks this question to Mimi, she is highlighting how vicious life as a Haitian can be. It shows readers how Haitian people were forced to live in fear, in non-nourishing conditions, and were forced to accept a lower life expectancy. 

“If our men had killed Kongo’s son, they’d expect to die […] But since it’s one of them, there’s nothing we can do.” 

This quote, spoken by Mimi to Amabelle, displays the stronghold nationalism had on the Dominican Republic during the 1930s. Even murder was not enough to incite justice or empathy, and Haitians’ lives were attributed less worth. 

“This must be what it means to get old…I could hate no one when I was young. Now I can and I do.” 

Throughout the novel, Amabelle searches for what it means to grow old. This bit of dialogue from Félice provides some insight into that quest. It also reveals how Félice was deeply impacted by Joël’s death.

“We cannot start a war here.” 

This is Amabelle’s response to Félice’s urging that something be done “to teach them that our lives are precious too” (66). It hints at the broad implications of seeking revenge for Joël’s death. Both Amabelle and Félice know that any such action would have a ripple effect on the whole community. Amabelle predicts that a justified retort on their part will lead to widescale violence on the part of the Dominicans. 

“(R)emembering—though sometimes painful—can make you strong.” 

This quote is in reference to Father Romain’s sermons. Amabelle and Sebastien often force each other to remember their pasts. This line demonstrates why they push each other to reflect on their unpleasant pasts.

“Soon you will have to be near a pot every day […] For now you don’t have to be.” 

Amabelle’s father says this to Amabelle after she has burned herself opening her mom’s cooking pot. This quote gives readers a sense of the servile role Amabelle has been trapped in from the beginning. Her life as a household worker was considered her fate, be it cooking for the more affluent or in her assumed role as a wife, and, as such, responsible for domestic chores like cooking. 

“I think only his son knew his true name.” 

The quote accents the novel’s take on parent-child relationships as the most powerful relationships humans enter into. In this case, the idea is that only a child is capable of knowing a parent’s true identity. Further, it speaks to Haitian identity, and the freedom prior generations of Haitians won via a prolonged slave revolt against the French. Joel, who essentially worked as an indentured servant for wealthy Dominicans, and then was killed by one, represents a generation of Haitians who have had that freedom wrested from them by the Trujillo regime.

“[H]e asked you who you belonged to. You pointed to your chest and said, yourself.” 

In this quote, Señora Valencia is recounting how Papi reacted when they saw Amabelle sitting by herself on the rocks as a child. The idea that Amabelle once belonged to herself instead of to others helps readers understand how painful her experience as a service worker has been, and also shows how Danticat uses the character of Amabelle—in addition to many other Haitian characters—to represent a freedom that Haitians have lost. 

“Tell him I am a man […] He was a man, too, my son.” 

Kongo says this to Papi in response to Papi’s request to visit him and pay for his son’s funeral. It’s clear from this quote that Kongo has not only lost his son, but his pride. Papi’s offer does not assuage, but rather accents, how little control Kongo had over his son’s life and his own life, making it seem as if he is not capable of properly caring for his child. 

“It would be too vain […] to spend more time than God reproducing oneself.” 

Spoken by Amabelle’s father, this quote proves that there are distinctly different expectations for fathers and mothers in this community. Women, like Señora Valencia, are expected to spend all their time reproducing themselves, whereas for men this occupation is looked down on.

“The Dominicans needed the sugar from the cane for their cafecitos and dulce de leche.” 

This thought of Amabelle’s proves that she has internalized the poor self-worth that has been placed on her. The only value she thinks she offers is the ability to sweeten what others already have.

“Things are never even.” 

This bit of dialogue from Kongo boils the book down to one sentence. While there are external parallels between the characters, such as all living in the same location, or nearly all having lost a parent, their experiences are vastly different based on their gender and sociocultural roles. 

“I was surprised I could yield so fast and leave them behind.” 

Amabelle thinks this to herself after abandoning the Dominican sisters on the trip to the border. Fear, like readers see with the hummingbirds earlier in the book, becomes a main motivator in Amabelle’s world; her own value system is necessarily subverted by her need to survive. 

“All I had wanted was for her to be still.” 

This thought of Amabelle’s hints to the reader that Amabelle thinks she may have killed Odette before the water was able to. This is especially significant since her parents died crossing a river as well. It’s as if she needed to have some control over the crossing this time, and, even so, still failed. 

“Leave me now…I’m going to dream up my children.”  

Spoken by Man Denise after revealing to Amabelle that Sebastien and Mimi are dead, this quote stands in stark contrast to the earlier parts of the book, in which Sebastien and Amabelle always tried to avoid their dreams because of the pain they caused. Here, readers see the foil to that, as Man Denise uses her dreams as a means of safety and happiness.