Paradise by Mike Resnick

Mike Resnick has written at least three science fiction books that are basically about Africa, despite the denials in the front of the book. The titles are paradise, purgatory and inferno. I read Purgatory, which is about/not about Zimbabwe, and just finished Paradise, which is about/not about Kenya.

I don't really understand Resnick's coyness. Perhaps he thought it would be more interesting if he took the history and politics of these countries and situated it in a science fiction realm. In Resnick's worlds (galaxies?), these African countries are literally different worlds, which Man has decided to colonize for different reasons. The inhabitants of the planets are usually strange creatures, often compared to snakes or fish (gills, slitted eyes, etc.). The wildlife is given names but seems a great deal like the wildlife in sub-saharan Africa (Landships are elephants, Bush Devils are some sort of wild boar, etc.) In truth, the worlds are not that much different from the countries in Africa he purportedly doesn't write about, except for the whole alien thing and a few futuristic elements like binoculars that adjust to your specific eye problems like nearsightedness, or "dilating" doors (I still don't really understand what this means).

Resnick's main character in Paradise is a human writer who begins a long relationship with the planet Peponi, first through interviews of human ex-colonists of the planet, who have a lot to say about Peponi's beauty, the inability of the natives to maintain it, and why they no longer live there but wish they did. Later the writer is contracted by the president of Peponi to write a biography of his life. The president, Buko Pepon, is an interesting character, alternately portrayed as a benevolent father of the country (he is the first president after Peponi's independence), and at the same time intolerant of opposition (he kills any pretenders to the presidency). Through the main characters' interactions with these people he learns more and more about the history of Peponi from colonial times to uprisings to independence.

Resnick's main point in Paradise and his other books (I think) is to portray the downfall of post-colonial Africa. To his credit he takes a fairly balanced look at this, discussing the impact of colonialism and the resulting chaos once the humans pulled out. In Resnick's view, everyone, natives and humans alike, is to blame for the mess the other planets are in. The point is not exactly "everything would have been great if the stupid humans wouldn't have come," but close. Paradise, for example, discusses the decimation of the native flora and fauna as a result of hunting and planting foreign crops. I would have been interested to know a little more as to why humans decided to start colonizing other planets. Was Earth completely destroyed? How? The human characters are a bit one-dimensional, either sympathetic to the native's cause or extremely indifferent. Interestingly, it's the alien characters that are more nuanced and enigmatic. Paradise and the other books are quick reads, and take a unique otherworldly perspective of post-colonial Africa. However, I'm not sure they add anything new to the discussion.

The Uncertainty of Hope by Valerie Tagwira

A little background on me...when I was on my way to Mozambique for a 2-year posting to U.S. Embassy Maputo, I took along a book of stories by African women (I forget what it was called). There were countless stories of abuse, economic distress, AIDS, and just overall misery. I remember getting off the plane thinking, "What the hell have I gotten myself into by going to Africa?"

The Uncertainty of Hope, a novel of Zimbabwe in the 21st century, had me going down that same path. The main character, Onai, lives in an abusive relationship, which she refuses to leave despite the advice of all of her friends because she thinks it would be better for her kids if she stays. Things get worse and worse for Onai before they get better, and she winds up losing basically everything. Luckily, she has some strong female friends to rely on, and there is a sort of deus ex machina ending, which is, blessedly, happy.

At first I was put off by the stilted style of writing in this book. This is Valerie Tagwira's first novel and some of the dialogue is very artificial, giving information that should be given in the narrative or some other way. An example from page 20:

"Tom continued. 'Just to show you how desperate the fuel situation is, ...the one service station that had petrol and diesel yesterday was asking for payment in US dollars.'
Faith was incredulous. 'Shuwa? That is so unfair! Only a handful of people earn foreign currency, and most of them expats [...] no wonder the public transport situation is worsening [...]'

Who talks like that? But despite this, I became more and more engrossed in the book. I was simply amazed at how bad things got for Onai and some of her acquaintances and kept turning the pages to see if things would get better for her and her children. Luckily, they did, but it was a long, hard, road.

There are numerous subplots in the story, also involving women, some of whom are actually in good relationships. While the women in the story are complex, the men seem one-dimensional, either lecherous abusers or befuddled and amused by their smart women. The book is also amazingly critical of the Zimbabwean government and policies, which surprises me since it was published in the country. I certainly hope that Valerie Tagwira didn't suffer any repercussions, and that she got her happy ending like Onai.

Before I Forget by Andre Brink (and a few comments on the other two books from South Africa)

When I first started reading this novel/memoir I sighed heavily. Why do male writers find it absolutely necessary to detail all of their sexual experiences in a book? "Here are all of the women I slept with and the effect it had on me." Yawn. However, the book is well written, and Brink's narrator (who I'm pretty sure is Brink masquerading as a fictional South African writer) has some humorous and poignant things to say about growing old and still having sexual desire. The character (73 years old) has some hilarious dialogs with his 90-something year old mother, who perhaps is the most sane character in the book despite her mind going. The story is framed by a friendship that the writer has with a younger woman and her husband. Inevitably, the apartheid years play an important role in the book (the writer is exiled after writing a book about Sharpeville). Also interesting to me was the fact that the writer is an Afrikaaner who basically rebelled against his father, who was a powerful man and a stern believer in the principles of apartheid (but also a total dog with women, like his son). The ending is pretty depressing and made me not want to get old.

I didn't plan it this way, but the three South African books I wound up reading had Xhosa, English and Afrikaaner narrators. Interestingly, Coconut (with the Xhosa narrators) had the least to say about the apartheid years; most likely this was because it took place in the present time. I also gathered from the story that life hasn't changed much for most blacks in South Africa post-apartheid. There are new middle-class blacks like Ofilwe and her family, but people like Fiks are still struggling to make a living, and all blacks still suffer the sting of racism.

The Syringa Tree

This book was a very rich history of South Africa during the apartheid years, as perceived by a young girl of English origin. The English in South Africa were generally more tolerant in terms of racial relations (at least, as portrayed by this author). The father of the narrator is a doctor and the mother is nuts so she spends a lot of time in her room. The girl is basically raised by her Xhosa nanny, who gives birth to a daughter who is kept secretly in the household because otherwise she will be sent to live in the townships. There are lots of twists and turns in this story, which explores the relationship between this English family, the Afrikaaners who live nearby (who are not portrayed sympathetically but who hold a certain fascination for the daughter), the grandparents, who live out in the country, and the English family's Xhosa household help, who are also engaged in some underground freedom fighting. The end of the book is absolutely wrenching and heart breaking. Like Coconut, it took me a while to get into this story, but once I did I was hooked.

Coconut by Kopano Matlwa

It took me a little while to get into this novel. You have to have a great deal of background knowledge about South African race relations, and South Africa in general, to fully understand where the narrators are coming from. However, it is beautifully written, almost in a stream of consciousness style but incorporating dialogs, straight narrative, and memories. It is actually two intersecting stories: one is the story of an upper-middle-class girl, Ofilwe, who is for all intents and purposes perfectly comfortable in her upper-middle-class life, but whose brother, Tshepo, is starting to pay closer attention to issues of race and class. Towards the end of Ofilwe's story she starts to realize that, for all of her efforts, she will never entirely fit in to the society she affiliates herself with. Fiks is a working-class girl from the townships who covets the trappings of upper-middle-class life but is working in a restaurant serving the very people she wants to be someday. Both Ofilwe and Fiks experience racism and sexism--the white males in this book are not especially kind. There are also interesting discussions about losing Xhosa culture and language. The book is a fascinating portrait of race and class in South Africa, but again, you need a little bit of background information. I'd recommend reading The Syringa Tree first, which gives a bit more backstory.

The Africa Reading Challenge

This has nothing to do with my dissertation, but since I have gotten re-interested in Africa by way of my spouse, Dr. Cuy, I figured I would take the challenge. More info can be found here. Basically, you read six books about Africa in 2008 and write reviews about them. Here is my list of books:

Coconut by Kopano Matlwa (South Africa)
The Syringa Tree by Pamela Gien (South Africa)
Before I Forget by Andre Brink (South Africa)
Dinner with Mugabe by Heidi Holland (Zimbabwe)
The Uncertainty of Hope by Valerie Tagwira (Zimbabwe)
Paradise by Mike Resnick (Kenya--sort of)

I'll be posting reviews on this site. Stay tuned!

Hey! Anybody there?

I haven't posted in eons. I'm sorry. The thing is, I'm writing my dissertation, which means I no longer have any time to actually post about my dissertation.

Update: I have five chapters, two of which are "data tsunamis" in the words of my adviser. Which means I need to incorporate more analysis. I'm revising my theoretical framework and incorporating it into the aforementioned tsunamis. I'm pondering the job market in the fall. Most people I talk to seem ridiculously confident that I will get a job. We shall see.

Talking 'bout my dissertation!

Hi! I'm back. Yes, it's been awhile. I finished my data collection. I made a few mistakes, some of which were very large and ugly and the whole thing turned into a soap opera. Unfortunately I can't talk about any of that here but if you're ever in the L.A. area and want to go out for a drink, please let me know.

I will try to be back (don't know if anyone is even reading this anymore...is this thing on? hello?) with more generic fun about the analysis and writing portion of my diss. Suffice it to say that I am very happy the data collection portion is over, although the Ecuador component was much less painful than the Pacific Northwest portion.

The fieldwork thing, it often is no fun.

Especially when you're watching a band in the cold, cold rain for seven hours as they attempt to eke out a living and you're not feeling like being there, you keep having visions of hot showers, fireplaces and soup. When there's a break for lunch you are shocked and angered to realize that THEY'RE GOING TO EAT STANDING UP OUTSIDE and the nerve of them how dare they not go inside somewhere so that you can both eat and take notes, now you have to keep taking notes, in the rain, and not eat because you only have two hands for Christ's sake. And you go back to the makeshift stage they've set up on the street for this second day of the festival and the sound doesn't work very well and everybody seems pissed off but maybe it's just you and then the Stupid Fan that you Hate decides to show up and make your life even more miserable and after another set it begins to rain even harder and you're drowning under your stupid hat and as usual you have not dressed for the occasion. And the lead guy calls it quits and everyone's helping to put away the equipment but when you try you can't even get the damn cables coiled into a circle because your hands are too cold and you feel like you're getting in the way more than anything and you wonder why anybody even tolerates you, why you even thought you had a clue as to what you were doing when you got into this whole participant observer role, because clearly you are not participating very well. And the lead guy takes you back to your friend's house and you throw your clothes in the dryer and stand under the shower for about 24 years. Then you have a beer because you deserve a beer and write whiny field notes because you deserve to write whiny field notes. And you're not sure it's going to get better but when you get home you realize you have more to work with than you thought you did, to the point where you have a pretty solid outline for all 9 chapters of your dissertation, divided into three potentially awesome publications. Finally, when your super sweet digital voice recorder arrives you are all better and chomping at the bit to get back into the field.

Note to self: Next time, bring a raincoat.

Cultural awareness

My husband, Dr. Cuy, sent me this little gem. I especially love the culturally sensitive comments at the end.