Part 7 (1/2)
Any story set in Nigeria must contend with the country's inherently dramatic setting: it's a larger-than-life nation with a long and complex history, and myriad languages and cultures.
I would suggest beginning your reading with a few books by Chinua Achebe, especially his best known novel, Things Fall Apart. Originally published in 1958, it provides one of the best pictures of colonial Africa ever written. But also check out Anthills of the Savannah, which describes a country in post-colonial Africa clearly based on Achebe's native Nigeria. The Education of a British-Protected Child is filled with thought-provoking essays, including one on racism in Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness.
In Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Purple Hibiscus, we are transported into the life of privileged teenager Kambili, as she and her older brother, JaJa, try to survive a violent religious-fanatic father inside their home and the dangerous sociopolitical situation engulfing the country. Kambili is a character who will remain with you long after the last page of this beautiful and heartrending novel is turned. Adichie is also the author of the novel Half of a Yellow Sun and The Thing Around Your Neck, a collection of stories that are set in both the United States and her still politically volatile homeland.
Adimchinma Ibe's Treachery in the Yard: A Nigerian Thriller introduces Detective Peterside to readers, and undoubtedly we'll see much more of him in the years to come.
I've concluded that many of the best novels set in contemporary Nigeria by native Nigerian writers can best be described as being vivid (sometimes painfully so) and violent (also sometimes painfully so); two that I have not been able to forget (and probably never will) are Chris Abani's GraceLand and Helon Habila's Waiting for an Angel.
Other books set in Nigeria include I Do Not Come to You by Chance by Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani, a humorous yet thought-provoking novel about Internet scammers in Nigeria; and Sefi Atta's dynamic first novel, Everything Good Will Come, a bitingly funny take on two women's attempts to figure out their roles in post-colonial Lagos.
An important part of the heart-tugging (but not sentimental) and unforgettable novel Little Bee by Chris Cleave is set in Nigeria. It's the story of the relations.h.i.+p between an older British woman and a young Nigerian girl whom she and her husband meet on a beach during what is supposed to be an idyllic vacation for the British couple. This is an absolutely perfect choice for book groups.
NORTH AFRICAN NOTES.
North Africa is that part of the world that is on the southern edge of the Mediterranean Sea, reaching from Egypt in the east to Tangier in the west. The best book covering the whole area that I've found is Michael Mewshaw's Between Terror and Tourism: An Overland Journey Across North Africa. Not only is the first half of the t.i.tle pretty neat, but since this inviting, chatty account is filled with fascinating bits of information and references to and quotations from other writers (Cavafy and Baudelaire, to name only two), I had to keep putting down the book and copying pa.s.sages into the notebook I keep for such things. Books on Egypt, a major player in North Africa, can be found in its own self-t.i.tled section.
Algeria.
Two important works of nonfiction on the history of Algeria and its long, awful fight to free itself from its colonial master, France, are Alistair Horne's A Savage War of Peace: Algeria 1954-1962 and Ted Morgan's My Battle of Algiers: A Memoir.
Elizabeth Hawes's Camus: A Romance combines biography (of French writer Albert Camus) with memoir. (Hawes became entranced with Camus when she was a college student.). Although there's much here that takes place in France, there's enough focus on Algiers (and, in particular, Camus's childhood) to make it a necessary accompaniment to any reading for travel-to-Algeria purposes. Or just for the pleasure of encountering a man who had a fine mind and a n.o.ble spirit.
Although it was published posthumously and is not considered to be his best novel, Camus's The First Man is probably his most autobiographical, and is certainly the one most closely linked to his childhood in Algiers. (Camus was born in Oran, where he set his novels The Plague and The Stranger.) Next to Camus,Yasmina Khadra is probably Algeria's most famous writer, although most of his novels are set elsewhere (his best-known novel for American audiences is The Swallows of Kabul). The author, who was once a high-ranking military officer with the Algerian army, wrote his books under a (female) pseudonym in order to avoid political repercussions. (He's now in exile, in France.) Mystery lovers on their way to Algeria will want to try Khadra's Inspector Llob series; the first one is Morituri, but my favorite is Double Blank.
Loving Graham Greene, Gloria Emerson's first novel, is both tragic and funny. Wealthy and eccentric Molly Benson, who has a pa.s.sion for Graham Greene and his work, travels to Algeria in 1992 (the year after Greene's death) with two friends in order to give money to writers there who are targets of the country's fundamentalists. This is a tale of three innocents abroad, the sort of people who believe that their good works (and pure motives) will protect them from harm. One could easily imagine how much Greene himself would have enjoyed reading it.
Harbor, a wrenching first novel by journalist Lorraine Adams, is about a Muslim from Algeria who arrives illegally in America in the 1990s. Aziz Arkoun is a deserter from the Algerian army and becomes caught up in America's domestic war on terror following 9/11. This is one of those novels that raises uncomfortable questions for readers: how do we know whom to trust; how can we best accommodate new immigrants who are fleeing for their lives but don't qualify as ”political refugees” under the law; which should prevail when individual rights come into conflict with what we're told is our national interest; and who or what defines a ”terrorist”?
Other novels set in Algeria include Brian Moore's The Magician's Wife, which takes place during the Napoleonic period, and Claire Messud's The Last Life, which describes the experiences of one French family during the last days of French rule.
For a change of pace, take a look at Joann Sfar's The Rabbi's Cat and its sequel, The Rabbi's Cat 2, a pair of graphic novels set in the once flouris.h.i.+ng Jewish community in Algeria. They're about a cat who swallows a parrot, learns to talk, and develops a devouring (sorry!) interest in everything related to Judaism.
Morocco.
Whenever there's talk about literature and Morocco, or travel and Morocco, it's pretty certain that Paul Bowles's life and books will be mentioned early in the conversation, since he spent many years as an expatriate there and is closely identified (at least in American minds) with the country. (See the section ”The Sahara: Sand Between Your Toes” for more about Bowles's best-known book.) So try to get whatever you know about the country, and Bowles, out of your head for a while, and concentrate on these.
One of my favorite writers, Edith Wharton, visited the country in 1917 and wrote In Morocco about her time there. What took away from the delight of reading a previously unknown-to me-Wharton book was the anti-Semitism that creeps in a bit here and there throughout the text.
Tony Ardizzone's Larabi's Ox: Stories of Morocco is a series of interconnected stories about three Americans who arrive in the country for different reasons and find (or not) what they came for.
French Moroccan Tahar Ben Jelloun explores the post-colonial country in The Last Friend, the story of the relations.h.i.+p between Ali and Mamed, childhood best friends, now irrevocably separated. The translation by Linda Coverdale is superb, and the story illuminates both the nature of friends.h.i.+p and the state of the country. If you're in the mood for a difficult and soul-destroying read, also try his This Blinding Absence of Light.
Other books with a Moroccan setting-or close connection-include Laila Lalami's Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits and Secret Son; See How Much I Love You by Luis Leante (which limns the deep connection between Spain and its colonies in the Western Sahara); The Serpent's Daughter, one of Suzanne Arruda's mysteries (set in 1920) and featuring her regular sleuth Jade del Cameron-this one about a trip to exotic Morocco to reconnect with her mother;Tahir Shah's In Arabian Nights: A Caravan of Moroccan Dreams; The Spy Wore Silk by Aline, Countess of Romanones; Stolen Lives: Twenty Years in a Desert Jail by Malika Oufkir; and Esther Freud's Hideous Kinky.
NORWAY: THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN.
If you've already read Sigrid Undset's great trilogy, Kristin Lavransdatter (composed of The Wreath, The Wife, and The Cross) and want to read more of this n.o.bel Prize- winning writer, you still have ahead of you her other masterpiece, The Master of Hestviken.The four books that make up this series include, in order, The Axe, The Snake Pit, In the Wilderness, and The Son Avenger. And Undset has still others you might also want to try, including Return to the Future, a diary of her escape from Norway after it was invaded by the German army during World War II.
After immersing yourself in medieval Norway, you may want to move right to the more-or-less present, and try these.
The other Norwegian cla.s.sic writer (and n.o.bel winner) is Knut Hamsun. I'd begin with Hunger, but all his books make for good reading.
Karin Fossum writes dark psychological thrillers; if you're a fan of her fellow Scandinavian Henning Mankell, Fossum is someone to check out. Her novels feature policeman Konrad Sejer, who's introduced to American readers in Don't Look Back.
If real noir is to your taste, don't miss the thrillers written by the prize-winning and mult.i.talented Jo (p.r.o.nounced ”Yo”) Nesb; he is also a singer and songwriter for the Norwegian rock group Di Derre. Start with The Devil's Star.
In Out Stealing Horses, award-winning writer Per Petterson's style is spare and restrained, with a plot that emerges only gradually, and the deliberate pace of the language may force you to read more slowly than usual. From the evocative cover (of the hardback edition) to its exploration of death, grief, forgiveness, and love, this is a novel not to miss. So take a deep breath, settle back in a comfortable chair, and prepare yourself for a beautifully translated, transporting novel about a man reliving his life, especially one particular summer day more than fifty years before. It began when his best friend, Jon, came by with a plan to borrow a neighbor's horses and ended with the realization that nothing would ever be the same, for him or, especially, for Jon, again. If you enjoy this, try Petterson's other novels, including To Siberia and In the Wake.
Linn Ullman's Before You Sleep is the story of the tumultuous Blom family; it's set in both Norway and New York. (The author is the daughter of actress Liv Ullman and director Ingmar Bergman, which is an interesting backstory in its own right.) Morten Ramsland's Doghead is the Norwegian version of the dysfunctional family novel (although the author's actually Danish). It's set over a period of three generations and is funny, outrageous, and moving-imagine a John Irving novel set in northern Europe.
For a lighter read, try Robert Barnard's mystery The Cherry Blossom Corpse, set at a romance writers' convention in Bergen. It's one of the series featuring Perry Trethowan of Scotland Yard, and it's rife with satire.
And d.i.c.k Francis, one of my favorite mystery writers, set Slay Ride in the world of Norway's horseracing community.
Although Nicola Griffith's The Blue Place-a combination of mystery and love story-takes place only partially in Norway, it manages to bring the country to life for us.
Maybe one of the most enticing nonfiction books I've read about this Scandinavian country is Paul Watkins's Fellows.h.i.+p of Ghosts: A Journey Through the Mountains of Norway-it just made me want to be there with him.
OCEANIA, OR MILES OF ISLES.
Frankly, the first thing that comes to mind for me when I think about islands is the chapter in A. A. Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh in which Piglet is entirely surrounded by water. However, the isles I'm talking about here include, but aren't necessarily limited to, the following South Sea Islands:Vanuatu, Kirabati, Fiji, Christmas, Pitcairn, Polynesia, Solomon, New Hebrides, New Caledonia, and Easter Island.
Some are better known than others: For example, Pitcairn Island is probably familiar to most of us because of Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall's Mutiny on the Bounty, which tells in exciting detail the story of Captain Bligh and Fletcher Christian. (In fact, Pitcairn is populated by descendants of the mutineers on HMS Bounty.) Another interesting look at the topic is The Bounty Mutiny by Edward Christian, which includes Bligh's defense, records from the trial, and much more. But maybe the best book to read is the always reliable Caroline Alexander's The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty. (Mystery fans who want a whole other take on Fletcher Christian and the mutiny should definitely read Val McDermid's The Grave Tattoo.) And then there's Easter Island, which was Thor Heyerdahl's ultimate goal on his great trip by raft from Peru. He made the journey in order to prove that there could be a connection between peoples from Polynesia and South America. He tells the story of the voyage in Kon-Tiki: Across the Pacific by Raft.
But many of the islands are a bit less familiar to most of us, so take a look at these: J. Maarten Troost's Getting Stoned with Savages: A Trip Through the Islands of Fiji and Vanuatu is an anecdotal (and frequently hilarious) account of the year he spent with his wife, Sylvia, living on the South Pacific islands of his book's t.i.tle. I found Troost to be delightful company. He's eminently curious, open to new experiences without being foolhardy (most of the time, anyway), and entirely without pretension. Whenever I read the sort of armchair travel book in which first-world authors spend time in third-world locales, I am always on the lookout for any signs of looking down on, or making fun of, the native populations. Troost is entirely respectful (even when he's describing how corrupt the government is), saving his harshest criticisms for his own fears, inadequacies, and dumb decisions-all of which just made him seem more human to me.Whether it's traversing (or trying to) the mud-slick, unpaved roads of the islands; coping with landslides; encountering active volcanoes; discovering giant centipedes seemingly bent on household domination; musing on the pros and cons of cannibalism (while visiting a village in which the last incidence of this practice took place within living memory); surviving Cyclone Paula; or trying out kava, Vanuatu's intoxicating drink of choice, Troost's writing is lively and entertaining.When I finished this book I was sorely tempted to spend my next vacation in Vanuatu and Fiji, but reason belatedly kicked in and I realized that I would probably need to bring Troost himself along as well in order to guarantee myself a good time.
Troost is also the author of Lost on Planet China: One Man's Attempt to Understand the World's Most Mystifying Nation and The s.e.x Lives of Cannibals: Adrift in the Equatorial Pacific. What I've discovered in talking to fans of Troost is that their favorite book of his tends to be the first one they read, a fact that's certainly true for me-my first was Getting Stoned with Savages, and it remains my favorite.
Arthur Grimble was a British diplomat who was made Resident Commissioner of the Gilbert and Ellice Islands colony in 1926. His two books, We Chose the Islands: A Six-Year Adventure in the Gilberts and Return to the Islands, are about his family's experiences on a set of islands that straddle the equator. Let me just note, I felt more than a little sorry for his wife, despite the fact that Mr. Grimble seemed like a nice enough chap-you had to have a certain quality to be the wife of someone in the British diplomatic service during the heyday of the Empire. Incidentally, you won't find the Gilbert Islands on a recent map-they're now known as the Republic of Kiribati.
The components of Nicholas Drayson's Confessing a Murder include a former (fictional) cla.s.smate of Charles Darwin, a mysterious scarab, and a marooned man: together they're perfect ingredients for a novel to enjoy, and Drayson does it up beautifully.
And these as well:Alexander Frater's Tales from the Torrid Zone: Travels in the Deep Tropics James Michener's Tales of the South Pacific, set on the New Hebrides during World War II, is my favorite of all the books he ever wrote; one of the stories in it was the inspiration for Until They Sail, one of my best-loved movies.