Deviancy.

For a society where survival virtually eclipses the importance of everything else - especially individualism; diverging off the beaten path tends to complicate life, as well as throwing extra pressures from the world around (in this case Haitian society) - Marie from "Between the Pool and the Gardenias" is a remarkable example of a woman who follows her own path despite (or perhaps because of?) the constant troubles she faces, whether it's people completely ignoring her like the Dominican does, or taking extreme advantage of like her cheating husband did.

It'd be pretty easy to breeze through "Between the Pool and the Gardenias" and label Marie as mentally disturbed. When the world of the living mixes with the world of the dead in an uncomfortably intimate fashion, as is the relationship between Marie and the deceased Rose, extreme discomfort tends to flare. I don't think Marie is disturbed at all. In fact, I think she's one of the most human - and one of the most passionate - women portrayed throughout any of the nine stories in Danticat's collection. However, beyond my own intuition, the evidence for why I feel this is clearly seen Danticat's story. Specifically, the following quote from Marie:

"It’s so easy to love somebody, I tell you, when there’s nothing else around."

Her husband's cheated on her multiple times. Her family has all died. Marie even says there is a "distance of death" between her and anyone else who loves her truthfully. Additionally, she has had several miscarriages. It is only through heartbreak that we truly learn to love - that is, without any superficial, flighty underpinnings - and heartbreak is something Marie has had in spades. It's true that she's desperate for love, but at least her love for others is genuine. The clothes Marie had sewn for her miscarried children are lovingly given to Rose, and Marie takes particular notice of the "butterfly collar" . What is more beautiful and hopeful than a butterfly, especially for someone who has probably only had the chance to 'see' them in the Krik-Krak stories her family once told her? Marie dotes upon her 'daughter'. Marie's idea of love isn't grounded in crass obligations, nor in the potentially attractive appearances of a lover; Rose doesn't even have to do anything for Marie to love her unconditionally. It's grounded in her heart and soul.

Evidence for Marie's passion shows up a little in her description of her brief affair with the Dominican: "The Dominican and I made love on the grass once, but he never spoke to me again." Marie's use of the phrase 'made love' struck me as incredibly indicative of how human she really is. Why 'made love' and not just 'had sex' or, in even brazen terms, 'fucked'? Marie carefully chose her words here, and was vulnerably expressing her feelings, and rather obvious hurt, at the Dominican choosing to ignore her afterwards. The Dominican, should he have described their affair, certainly wouldn't have used the term 'make love'. The Dominican does not know how to love beyond his libido, which is not Marie's idea of love, nor what the concept of love should even be.