BOOKBROODER

‘I knew every raindrop by its name. I sensed everything before it happened’
Jesus’ Son

I reckon last year, I read innumerable short stories. Too many. From contemporary guys out there, I read Mavis Gallant and Donald Barthelme. Now Denis Johnson is added to the list, Born in Germany, He has won the National Book Award for Fiction in 2007. I was intrigued to try his short stories and I found this one book most popular.

I admire the writing style. His way of storytelling is gripping and I like this sort of style. He has a unique narration style. He uses very few words, that’s commendable. He generates a thoughtful spasm in your head both at the beginning and at the end. After finishing most of the stories, I was forced back to revisit some of the paragraphs, to make sure I did not miss what the author wanted to convey. Though what an author wants to convey and what readers lay hold of, are two different things sometimes. The reader’s state of mind plays an important role. This sort of prose requires more concentration I guess, and it certainly tested my frail focusing abilities. If you go astray for two-three lines the essence of the story may transpire.

Regarding the content, It’s a collection of interconnected short stories. it is about boos, drugs, alcohol, burglary, sniffing and thieving, and jail and all, but he has made things around his flawed and addicted characters very stylish. The way he is represented is strange. The author takes you to the lives of many troubled individuals from the underbelly of society, their tale is dark and shady. The tone is unapologetic in nature.

In one story, in a pensive mood, a thief contemplates, wanting to steal from even a ruined house. He had a work ethic, I assume!

“All the houses on the river bank- a dozen or so, were abandoned. The windows in the lower stories were empty of glass. We passed alongside them and I saw that the ground floors of these buildings were covered with silt. Sometime back if blood had run over the banks, canceling everything. But now the river was flat and slow. Willows stoke the waters with their hair.
“Are we doing a burglary?” I asked Wayne.”
“You can’t burgulate a forgotten, empty house.” He said, horrified at my stupidity.

If you are comfortable with the subject matter, then I will recommend the book to witness the tactful storytelling from the author. I was utterly impressed with the style and skill of the author. I am going to remember it. I wish, I soon read his novels too.

I think the craft of Denis depicting human frailties is amazing in this book!

Photo by KALZud83dudcf8ud83cuddfaud83cuddec on Pexels.com

‘You would be my chattel, my mere property’

Knowing nothing about the author and his work, a note somewhere about the “Yoruba Culture” hurled me unconsciously toward Wole Soyinka, and eventually, I was reading a book on Soyinka in a bookshop. The first page of the book described his work as, ‘His imagery ranges from tropical yam roots to the falling acorns of Tegel. But he starts as a Yoruba.’ . The image, this sentence made in my mind was of a writer, whose craft would be a miscellany of natural stuff and tough personal experiences. I wished to feel the aforementioned culture through his writing. And to see if my imagination was correct or not, I finally picked up this play by the author. I read it in the night and it turned out to be a precursor for my good night’s sleep.

This is one of the early plays by Soyinka. The setting of the play is an African village. An immense ‘odan’ tree is in the center of the village, nearby a bush school. Sidi, a slim girl, a true village belle, enters carrying a small pail of water on her head. A school teacher Lakunle, 23, comes near her and asks her to give the pail to him, she refuses, and he seizes and some water spills…

“Lakunle:
No. I have told you not to carry loads
on your head but you are as stubborn
as an illiterate goat. It is bad for your spine.
and it shortens your neck so that very soon
you will have no neck at all. Do you wish to look
squashed like my pupil’s drawings?

Sidi:
Why should that worry me? Haven’t you sworn
That my looks do not affect your love?
Yesterday, dragging your knees in the dust,
you said Sidi, if you were crooked or fat
And your skin was scaley like a……. “

This was the beginning and you can see that there is an ingrained charm in this setting. I was immediately captured. As I moved on, I saw the sorcery of written words, with dance and mime and singing all blended together. In fact, I was humming some parts of the play, sometimes in between while reading!

In an attempt to save a poor ” bush girl” to make her civilize by marrying her,

‘Together we’ll sit at table- Not on floor and eat. Not with fingers, but with knives and forks, and breakable plates – Like civilized beings’

the young man tries his best.

Lakunle represents the Western-influenced mindset and Sidi is proud of her heritage. The other character is Baroka, the chief of the village, who represents power and manipulation in the plot. I loved this play. The author has shown the cultural conflict and aspirational dynamics of young people in a fictional Nigerian village. The beauty of this book is its lyrical continuance.

This play shows the fight between ‘mind and heart’ and also a fight between ‘reality and rhetoric’!

Jesus’ Son: Stories depicting human frailties!

An amazing play by Wole Soyinka