Breath, Eyes, Memory Transformation Quotes

How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Page)

Quote #1

The woman thought of all the animals that she had seen, the ones that people feared and others that they loved. She thought of the ones that were small. Ones that were held captive and ones that were free. "Make me a butterfly," she told Erzulie. "Make me a butterfly."

"A butterfly you shall be," said Erzulie. The woman was transformed and never bled again. (12.88)

Sophie remembers this folktale told while she was a child in Haiti. In it, there is a woman who bleeds constantly. When she can take it no longer, she begs the goddess Erzulie to help her. In essence, Erzulie tells that she can't stop the bleeding while the woman is human: to be human is to suffer. She offers the poor woman the chance to be transformed into an animal to give her some relief. The woman, as we see here, opts for transformation. Sophie learns early that existence is just too painful for some.

Quote #2

"Crabs don't make papayas. Your mother, she was a quiet child too." (18.122)

Both Atie and Ifé are fond of this saying, which is our equivalent to "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." In this case, there is absolutely zero transformation taking place. We can't be the thing we genetically aren't—no matter what our upbringing. We're not sure if this is reassuring to Sophie here.

Quote #3

"He told her he would wait for her to come back with her heart. The girl ran and ran all the way to her family village and never did she come back to the bird. If you see a handsome lark in a tree, you had better know that he is waiting for a very, very pretty little girl who will never come back to him." (18.125)

Sophie remembers many fantastic stories from her childhood—even if some of them are a little disturbing. In this one, a clever and beautiful lark almost manages to fly off with a pretty little girl. She, however, outfoxes him and is able to return to her family. Haitian folklore sees the natural world as an opportunity for surprise and danger. Beneath the beauty of a body of water—or a bird—lies a complex and potential sinister story.