In the Book Notes series, authors create and discuss a music playlist that relates in some way to their recently published book.
Dimitry Elias Léger’s Death of the Soccer God is an atmospheric, moving, and hilarious novel with soccer at its heart.
Kirkus wrote of the book:
“Like its predecessor [God Loves Haiti], the novel moves with lyrical, imaginative force, especially in its vivid evocations of soccer play, while also showcasing the author’s penchant for orchestrating funny and poignant romantic interludes. A historical novel that merrily dances and jukes its way across the pitch of time.””
In his own words, here is Dimitry Elias Léger’s Book Notes music playlist for his novel Death of the Soccer God:
The playlist features songs from seductive Haiti, sexy and spiritual 1950s New York City and festive and soulful Brazil, among other countries, most of them are featured in the novel. They helped me try to capture romantic ebb and furious flow of Caribbean, North and South American life and soccer.
“Trahison”, Super Jazz Des Jeunes
Since my father and his generation treasured the exploits of the real life Haitian-American soccer star of the 1950 football World Cup, a song by one of his favorite bands first came to mind. It’s a dirge, but incredibly sexy, meant to be danced slowly and closely, and the title means “betrayal,” my favorite literary theme.
“So What”, Miles Davis
The greatest song of the greatest jazz album of all the time, soft yet cocky, anyone who read and loved Miles Davis’s autobiography, like I do, has to love the contrast between his gently swining trumpet-playing voice and the man’s snarling real voice.
“All Blues”, Miles Davis
Probably my most played song from the era, more sad than romantic for sure, could be the soundtrack for a black immigrant in New York City in any era.
“Pursuance”, John Coltrane
Coltrane and I almost share a birthday, but we definitely share an obsession with trying to marry the overtly spiritual and the profane in our respective arts. The title of his landmark album featuring this song, A Love Supreme, was one of the working titles for my novel.
“Samba de Orfeu”, various artists
Orfeu Negro aka Black Orpheus, the classic Brazilian movie from 1959, was another one of this novel’s working titles. This award-winning French-Brazilian movie, with its beautiful black cast mostly dancing through carnival, love, and death, remains one of the most beloved reflections of Caribbean life, not just black Brazilian, on film. On top of that, its lilting soundtrack introduced the world to samba, a banned black Brazilian music style that became its signature export along with Pelé and beautiful and winning soccer teams.
“O Nosso Amor”, Chiquinho do Acordeon
I can’t even write the name of this song without standing up and dancing. It’s also the title of a chapter about losing one’s mind in Brazilian intoxications.
“A Forca”, Seu Jorge
Because this song is so beautiful and plaintive it makes me cry every single time I listen to it. Because after I translated the lyrics, I cry even more. Because Seu Jorge is the Brazilian musical titan of my generation with an otherwise very funky catalog.
“That’s Life”, Frank Sinatra
Because my novel is narrated by a once famous man facing a firing squad in prison while asking God how the hell he got there, Sinatra’s song answers that question for all of us, doesn’t he?
“Limyé”, Manno Charlemagne
Manno’s voice is so deep it’s like the voice of God and my father’s voice. Back in 2003, I used to go watch him gig every week at Tap-Tap, a beloved Haitian restaurant on South Beach.
“Jail House Blues”, Ella Fitzgerald
With a third act in my novel taking place largely among lifers in prison, the witty first song of my favorite Ella Fitzerald album These Are The Blues practically wrote the words for me.
“Supplication”, Roger Colas
The quintessential Haitian song of my childhood. “Sweetheart, I kneel at your feet, I don’t believe you will reject me,” he sings, begging like no man has ever begged. “I’m at your feet begging for forgiveness. Mommy, have pity on me.” I don’t ever won’t to feel that desperate. But boy, I love writing about it.
“Tranquilo”, Thalma de Freita
I write novels about trying to survive hell on earth a lot. But I like to believe that when we get to heaven, this light Brazilian ballad will be on repeat.
“Canto das Tres Racas”, Clara Nunes
Nunes is Brazilian samba’s equivalent to Aretha Franklin (Astrud Gilberto, the other ‘60s samba star, is akin to Diana Ross), this anthemic song’s title translates to “the song of the three races,” white, black, mixed. Let’s go!
“Bois Brillé”, Eugene Mona
After eight years living in Geneva, New York City, and Stockholm stuck on the first 40 pages of this novel, I moved to Martinique in late 2022 to finally figure out how to finish writing it. My first Thursday in Fort de France, Sarita, one of my only acquaintances, took me to an open mic night at a hotel by the beach, where I heard a singer give his all to this popular classic song. It’s an angry blues song that evokes the enslaved singing around a camp fire after an impossibly long and painful days’ work. The song made my jaw drop and filled my heart with courage. The novel wrote itself after that in a brisk two years.
Anna Badkhen is the author of eight books of nonfiction, including To See Beyond and Bright Unbearable Reality, longlisted for the National Book Award. Born in the Soviet Union and a former war correspondent, she is the recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship, the Barry Lopez Visiting Writer in Ethics and Community Fellowship, and the Joel R. Seldin Award for Excellence in Peace and Justice Journalism, among other honors. She is an artist in residence at the University of Pennsylvania and lives in Philadelphia. For more information, visit www.annabadkhen.com.