What does it mean to be a Haitian novel?

Every time I describe Breath, Eyes, Memory, I describe it as a contemporary Haitian novel or as a novel by a Haitian American. One side of me recoils at such a description; a novel should be read as a novel regardless of the nationality or ethnicity of the author. On the other hand, there is something different about this book than the many similar Oprah Books dealing with dysfunctional relationships among women. Some of that difference is that B, E, M is better written than many. Much of that difference is that B, E, M is Haitian. I know SalSis would have never chosen B, E, M had it not been Haitian. Prairie Quilter, Beth and I would not have responded as well as we did, all remarking it was good to read something outside of our norm, had B, E, M not been Haitian and somewhat exotic.
The idea of multiple standards and appropriateness of labels is a much greater subject than I have the background or will to take-on here. Since at least my American Ethnic Lit class in college, I've been aware that it is both "unfair" to judge works from other traditions without any idea of the standards of that tradition and "unfair" to read uncritically because the works are different. Neither, "Breath, Eyes, Memory is good for a Haitian novel" or "Breath, Eyes, Memory is good because it is a Haitian novel," sits right with me. Yet. Yet . . .
Yet I still book as being Haitian every time I describe it. What, exactly, do I mean by that? I can explain, to some extent, what I mean by a "Victorian romance" or "science fiction romp". But Haitian? I haven't read any other Haitian novels. I don't know what it means.
Edwidge Danticat (the author) furthers my confusion by adding a "What the . . . ?" afterward to the paperback edition (book originally published in 1994, afterward added in 1999) in which she basically writes "THIS BOOK DOES NOT REPRESENT ALL THE WOMEN OF HAITI" which makes one wonder just how many readers thought it did.
I wanted to write back to Danticat, "Of course not every family is like the one you describe. How absurd that you need to tell us this," but then I think about how many other images I have of modern women in Haiti, and, well, I am left with some general impressions from my friend SalSis and from Mountains Beyond Mountains, but the only Haitians I can envision with names and stories are the women in Breath, Eyes, Memory.
Which brings up the very interesting idea of characters as representations of whole peoples. What obligations to writers and readers have to make sure that fictional characters don't become unwitting ambassadors?
Anybody else envision whole times and places based on a book or two?
Thoughts welcome.
[Raych at books i done read started an interesting discussion on reading more widely. Readers looking to expand the breadth of their reading will find a great bunch of recommendations in the comments.]