Daria-Ann Martineau was born and raised in Trinidad and Tobago. After earning a BA in Speech and Hearing Science from The George Washington University (DC), she saw there were more interesting ways to understand language. She now holds an MFA in Poetry writing from New York University, where she was a Goldwater Hospital fellow. She has also received fellowships from the Saltonstall Arts Colony and the Callaloo Creative Writers Workshop. Her poetry has appeared in Narrative, Kinfolks Quarterly, and Almost Five Quarterly.
Her poem, "Pas Toi," appeared in Issue Sixty-Three of The Collagist.
Here, she speaks with interviewer, Christina Oddo, about the Caribbean and the American South, independence and ownership, and family history.
How does content play with form here?
I couldn’t really tell you. This poem started out in a very unimaginative, linear, free-verse form and I can’t remember what got me to play with white space. I think, however, it pertains to the ideas of things that connect us and those that separate us. I’m talking about two regions (The Caribbean and the American South) that are so culturally different in some ways and so similar in others. I remember reading Their Eyes Were Watching God back in high school and thinking, Wow this sounds like Trinidad! (my homeland) but it’s set in Florida--and not the West Indian part of Florida.
The form seems to foster a disconnect based in language and communication. What do the spaces represent for you?
Partly that. Again, the things that connect and separate us. Partly the struggle between ownership and independence. Also, the gaps in my family history. I’m the youngest in my family and there are things I don’t know about our past, because of slavery and the way things get lost in translation, but also because of repressed memories. Every family has stories they’d rather not air, I think, and respectability is very important in a lot of Post-colonial cultures.
Who is the “you” that the narrator addresses?
My partner. His last name is Butler. He’s from Mississippi.
What are you currently writing?
Think-pieces. Lots and lots of failed poems, mostly around my relationship, which is shifting in some ways right now. Also a bit around Ferguson. If I have children they will be Black and probably American. As that future becomes more likely, incidents like these resonate with me more than ever.
What are you reading?
I was reading Tiphanie Yanique’s Land of Love and Drowning. It’s gorgeous. However I had to put it down when my day-job got too crazy. I look forward to picking it back up and finally finishing over Christmas.