“Night Women” is a very short story revolving around a prositute and her young son. The setting takes place inside their small dwelling. At night she ‘works’ and brings her ‘suitors’ back to her place where her young son sleeps behind the scene. This story is a lot of things: it is sad and tragic, it genuine and heartfelt, and it is raw and unapologetic. The narrator says that “there are two kinds of women: day women and night women.” Obviously, she is a prostitute, but she describes herself as someone who is “stuck between the day and night in a golden amber bronze.” I believe she makes this distinction because she refuses to be defined ONLY a prostitute. Prostitution only serves as a way for her to make money and support her son. Also, she proudly runs a household and plays the role of a traditional female and mother.
What I noticed most of all in regard to the narrator was her amazing strength. She seems to accept the cards she has been dealt, however unfortunate, and shoulder on with both incredible hope and perserverance. She plays both her roles (day woman/night woman) the best she can. She is tender and caring to the boy by offering up her scarf, reading him stories, and most importantly, preserves his innocence with dressed up (literally) stories of angels. She COMMITTED to helping her child feel happiness in the face of unspeakable despair. In her role as a night woman, she takes ‘painstaking care’ in prepping herself for ‘dates.’ The narrator keeps hope alive in a most marvelous way; in a way that is fundamentally human.
Of course, such a life wasn’t able to completely spare her of certain side effects. She remarks in the very beginning that,“Tonight I am much older than the twenty-five years that I have lived.” This sentence speaks in volumes. This is not an isolated feeling unique to her only. Knowing a little about the history of the Haitians, I can say somewhat confidently mostly all Haitian children simply HAD to grow up extremely fast and learn to provide for themselves. This is precisely what the narrator is doing, and in my opinion, she is doing an admirable job. This story, despite being such a harsh reality, represents the Haitian struggle and should be preserved. I managed to find a good quote in the back of the book to help further articulate this meaning. It reads, “…and since you had written them down and memorized them, the names would come rolling off your tongue. And this was your testament to the way that these women lived and died and lived again.”
What I noticed most of all in regard to the narrator was her amazing strength. She seems to accept the cards she has been dealt, however unfortunate, and shoulder on with both incredible hope and perserverance. She plays both her roles (day woman/night woman) the best she can. She is tender and caring to the boy by offering up her scarf, reading him stories, and most importantly, preserves his innocence with dressed up (literally) stories of angels. She COMMITTED to helping her child feel happiness in the face of unspeakable despair. In her role as a night woman, she takes ‘painstaking care’ in prepping herself for ‘dates.’ The narrator keeps hope alive in a most marvelous way; in a way that is fundamentally human.
Of course, such a life wasn’t able to completely spare her of certain side effects. She remarks in the very beginning that,“Tonight I am much older than the twenty-five years that I have lived.” This sentence speaks in volumes. This is not an isolated feeling unique to her only. Knowing a little about the history of the Haitians, I can say somewhat confidently mostly all Haitian children simply HAD to grow up extremely fast and learn to provide for themselves. This is precisely what the narrator is doing, and in my opinion, she is doing an admirable job. This story, despite being such a harsh reality, represents the Haitian struggle and should be preserved. I managed to find a good quote in the back of the book to help further articulate this meaning. It reads, “…and since you had written them down and memorized them, the names would come rolling off your tongue. And this was your testament to the way that these women lived and died and lived again.”
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