"Sony Ton-Aime's Konbit is a marvel. This collection is so well-conceived that I am tempted to call it one poem. There is such control and still the poems sing. Ton-Aime's language surprises while establishing a familiarity that is nothing less than seduction."
— Percival Everett, author of James, winner of the National Book Award
"Sony Ton-Amie’s Konbit offers a gathering of voices that, as the Kreyòl word implies, function as a collective in the face of disaster. Centred on the Haitian Revolution, the book retraces the narratives, figures, and dreams that shaped that history, one that echoes over two hundred years later when we speak of resistance and survival. Merging past, present, and future and with its redolent images and cadences, Konbit is an incantatory work."
— Shara McCallum
"Sony Ton-Aime’s gorgeous lyric sequence, Konbit, describes the events before, during, and after the Bois Caïman ceremony, by poetically rendering everything around the events, as if to posit that the only way to truly say, to confront, is to waterfall around the event so that the accumulation of language ripples to become the thing described. Ton-Aime writes, 'If we must start somewhere, let it be with death. But before that, we will live,' as if to say that death is the center of everything, but between life and life. Out of oppression, war, and colonization, emerge these formally dexterous poems made of beautiful sentences."
— Victoria Chang, author of With My Back to the World and OBIT
“'If we must start somewhere,' Sony Ton-Aime writes in his brilliant debut collection, Konbit, 'let it be with death.' Unable to turn away from the fact of Colonial violence, Ton-Aime's poems mix myth, folklore, and religion in a multi-voiced passion play that dances through languages both inherited and repossessed. This book wields the entire gamut of contemporary form to give witness to some of history's bloodiest moments, stopping time to make room for the enemies of the state: quiet, vulnerability, and love. 'The crack where the light gets in,' he writes, 'is your heart.' That's also the perfect metaphor for how these poems work: finding the crack in the reader's defenses to show them that beauty and violence are rarely, if ever, disconnected."
— P. Scott Cunningham, author of Ya Te Veo