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alitasharing's review against another edition
5.0
A book review, as far as I’m concerned, is the chronicling of a journey. This review of novelist and theorist of post-colonial literature, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s, hilarious and urgent ‘Wizard of the Crow’ (Mũrogi wa Kagogo), is an attempt at reporting to you, dear reader, what my journey with this book was like.
I would like to begin with a quote by Captain Jean-Luc Picard (Captain of the starship USS Enterprise), fom episode Up The Long Ladder, “Sometimes, you just have to bow to the absurd.”
I see no more apt a way to describe the process of reading the Wizard of the Crow (henceforth, ‘WOTC’). It is a compelling story; one grounded in absurdist humour, compassion and a thorough and appropriate ripping apart of the oppressive and moronic bureaucracies of government in the fictional (but allegorical) land of Aburiria.
The book was written by and translated from the original Kikuyu into English by Thiong'o. It is important to note that Kikuyu is a Bantu language spoken by the Agĩkũyũ of Kenya. Simply put, it is a language of storytellers and WOTC draws heavily upon these oral storytelling traditions.
WOTC is fundamentally a work of resistance and proof that a sense of humour is a crucial aspect of substantive resistive action. It is important that in all areas of political work, we make room for joy and play (especially when it involves holding accountable the very real confederacy of dunces that ‘command’ militaries and control supply chains across the globe). These fictions and non-fictions are serious business, though. Thiong'o’s writing about the injustices of the dictatorial government in Kenya in the late 1970s, led to his (and his family’s) exile. So, there are often terrible consequences for speaking the truth but we must do it anyway.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. What is WOTC about? The story details the venal deeds of “the Ruler” of the fictitious, postcolonial African country of Aburiria. At the heart of this satirical take on contemporary political corruption is the love story of Kamiti and Nyawira, whose own exploits fortuitously become a beacon of hope through ongoing authoritarian oppression.
And that’s probably a good place to start - with Nyawira and Kamiti. This relationship struck me for several reasons. It is deep, joyful and respectful. Neither places the other on a pedestal but rather accepts them for who they are. Above being lovers, they are true companions. They are individual and have complex inner lives characterised by unique goals, beliefs, fears, strengths and schema. We watch (read) as they grow towards each other and in themselves. The partnership transcends sexuality and is a realistic depiction of a relationship, refreshingly unlike the all-consuming romanticism of most mainstream works dealing with love (in my experience). It is not everyday that you find truly equal partnerships in fiction (especially heterosexual ones), built on mutual respect and understanding, commitment and trust. They see each other, challenge and hold one another accountable. They disagree in healthy ways, they talk about what makes them afraid and are witnesses to each other's growth and mutations. They are not perfect and that is also not a goal. Rather, in their words and actions, they provide each other with abiding friendship, truthful conversation, and gentle, erotic alliance.
Another striking theme in WOTC is that of nature. The patterns and relations of animals and plants and their close link with the peoples of the same land are highlighted. The titular character, the Wizard of the Crow, creates their lore around these vital ecological relationships. So, epic paganism; check.
Fans of functional illiteracy may want to skip this next section because we’re about to get pedantic in this bitch. A little over a quarter of the way through the book, I discovered another feature to be admired - pacing. Pacing is a difficult topic for writers as literal speed is unique to the type of story you’re trying to tell. However, it is key and can determine a reader’s experience of the text as a whole. Overall, the pacing of WOTC is rapid but not whiplash; that is to say, you always feel like you have appropriate context. However, even in snippets; in moments where the scene is just dialogue between two characters, the pacing is phenomenal. For example, the scene where Njoya first interrogates Tajirika is a dialogue masterclass, bringing to a head both characters’ conflating perceptions of each other. I adore clever, quick dialogue.
Thiong'o is an extremely adept character writer, giving the reader an intimate understanding of the characters’ inner worlds and showing how their words and actions reflect these internal spheres. So many questions are tactfully presented - why would a policeman react this way, or treat someone in custody like this? (for example). And then answered - not intellectually, not pedantically, not in a way that seems forced. It’s marvellous to read.
As mentioned previously, Thiong'o’s method of storytelling is informed greatly by traditional African storytelling practices. Predominantly orally inherited, they concern the decisions people will make out of fear, love, honour, greed, rage and myriad other human driving forces. The manifestations of these inner worlds are sequestered behind the thinnest wall - the wall of words; and are brought forth in the process of telling - speaking it into existence. I.e., the oral tradition.
By now, you should have a general idea of the complexity of this work. It is a worlding of immense proportions. Bringing it to life are its characters, majorly Nyawira and Kamiti, who have different approaches to capital S, Society. Nyawira wishes to fight actively and Kamiti wishes to inhabit a more passive, thought-oriented role. This is where we see their differing ideologies come into conflict. It echoes what a lot of us feel, particularly those who are moved by matters of political significance, whose lives are intertwined inextricably in the struggle for true freedom; being torn between rejecting the burden of society and staying with the trouble (Donna Haraway reference let’s gooo). Yes, you may run away but you will still carry the burden.
Perhaps, then, that’s why we need other people - kind, strong and fierce people - to help us cut the ropes that bind boulders to our backs, to show us how to walk again with un-curved spines; whom, in turn, we help in the ways we know how. Because perhaps we belong with each other just as much as we belong with ourselves. This is community and not the way of the oppressor.
A quote from an author I do not recall currently is in order, “Your fear of your lack of strength or fortitude must not, on the whole, diminish your desire to help or your hope in other peoples’ ability to grow seeds where you struggle. That is the purpose of the unit; we all have different roles.”
The Ends
Completing this book was work. I began the journey at a particularly hard time in my life. My Nani had just died, my mother was sick and I was quarantined in my house (your usual pandemic scene). I needed something to fill my hours and to soothe my aching heart and mind. This book came to me like a Hiatus Kaiyote song; like “clover and wildflowers, when the soul is tired and needing.” It took me six months to finish and when I was done there was no air of finality, no big realisation - just a profound sense of gratitude and an awareness that the Work continues.
A member of the new resistance in Aburiria says somewhere near the end of the book, “We believe that all knowledge is our inheritance, but we also have a duty to add to the common store. The right to receive, the duty to give.”
This piece of writing is part of my inheritance; a work of sincere depth and love; one that I like to believe I share in. It is a call to stay with the trouble, to create, develop and add to knowledge, to share it freely, to deeply connect with each other, to acknowledge our stakes here on Planet Earth; to do so playfully and with intention.
Thank you for your time!
I would like to begin with a quote by Captain Jean-Luc Picard (Captain of the starship USS Enterprise), fom episode Up The Long Ladder, “Sometimes, you just have to bow to the absurd.”
I see no more apt a way to describe the process of reading the Wizard of the Crow (henceforth, ‘WOTC’). It is a compelling story; one grounded in absurdist humour, compassion and a thorough and appropriate ripping apart of the oppressive and moronic bureaucracies of government in the fictional (but allegorical) land of Aburiria.
The book was written by and translated from the original Kikuyu into English by Thiong'o. It is important to note that Kikuyu is a Bantu language spoken by the Agĩkũyũ of Kenya. Simply put, it is a language of storytellers and WOTC draws heavily upon these oral storytelling traditions.
WOTC is fundamentally a work of resistance and proof that a sense of humour is a crucial aspect of substantive resistive action. It is important that in all areas of political work, we make room for joy and play (especially when it involves holding accountable the very real confederacy of dunces that ‘command’ militaries and control supply chains across the globe). These fictions and non-fictions are serious business, though. Thiong'o’s writing about the injustices of the dictatorial government in Kenya in the late 1970s, led to his (and his family’s) exile. So, there are often terrible consequences for speaking the truth but we must do it anyway.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. What is WOTC about? The story details the venal deeds of “the Ruler” of the fictitious, postcolonial African country of Aburiria. At the heart of this satirical take on contemporary political corruption is the love story of Kamiti and Nyawira, whose own exploits fortuitously become a beacon of hope through ongoing authoritarian oppression.
And that’s probably a good place to start - with Nyawira and Kamiti. This relationship struck me for several reasons. It is deep, joyful and respectful. Neither places the other on a pedestal but rather accepts them for who they are. Above being lovers, they are true companions. They are individual and have complex inner lives characterised by unique goals, beliefs, fears, strengths and schema. We watch (read) as they grow towards each other and in themselves. The partnership transcends sexuality and is a realistic depiction of a relationship, refreshingly unlike the all-consuming romanticism of most mainstream works dealing with love (in my experience). It is not everyday that you find truly equal partnerships in fiction (especially heterosexual ones), built on mutual respect and understanding, commitment and trust. They see each other, challenge and hold one another accountable. They disagree in healthy ways, they talk about what makes them afraid and are witnesses to each other's growth and mutations. They are not perfect and that is also not a goal. Rather, in their words and actions, they provide each other with abiding friendship, truthful conversation, and gentle, erotic alliance.
Another striking theme in WOTC is that of nature. The patterns and relations of animals and plants and their close link with the peoples of the same land are highlighted. The titular character, the Wizard of the Crow, creates their lore around these vital ecological relationships. So, epic paganism; check.
Fans of functional illiteracy may want to skip this next section because we’re about to get pedantic in this bitch. A little over a quarter of the way through the book, I discovered another feature to be admired - pacing. Pacing is a difficult topic for writers as literal speed is unique to the type of story you’re trying to tell. However, it is key and can determine a reader’s experience of the text as a whole. Overall, the pacing of WOTC is rapid but not whiplash; that is to say, you always feel like you have appropriate context. However, even in snippets; in moments where the scene is just dialogue between two characters, the pacing is phenomenal. For example, the scene where Njoya first interrogates Tajirika is a dialogue masterclass, bringing to a head both characters’ conflating perceptions of each other. I adore clever, quick dialogue.
Thiong'o is an extremely adept character writer, giving the reader an intimate understanding of the characters’ inner worlds and showing how their words and actions reflect these internal spheres. So many questions are tactfully presented - why would a policeman react this way, or treat someone in custody like this? (for example). And then answered - not intellectually, not pedantically, not in a way that seems forced. It’s marvellous to read.
As mentioned previously, Thiong'o’s method of storytelling is informed greatly by traditional African storytelling practices. Predominantly orally inherited, they concern the decisions people will make out of fear, love, honour, greed, rage and myriad other human driving forces. The manifestations of these inner worlds are sequestered behind the thinnest wall - the wall of words; and are brought forth in the process of telling - speaking it into existence. I.e., the oral tradition.
By now, you should have a general idea of the complexity of this work. It is a worlding of immense proportions. Bringing it to life are its characters, majorly Nyawira and Kamiti, who have different approaches to capital S, Society. Nyawira wishes to fight actively and Kamiti wishes to inhabit a more passive, thought-oriented role. This is where we see their differing ideologies come into conflict. It echoes what a lot of us feel, particularly those who are moved by matters of political significance, whose lives are intertwined inextricably in the struggle for true freedom; being torn between rejecting the burden of society and staying with the trouble (Donna Haraway reference let’s gooo). Yes, you may run away but you will still carry the burden.
Perhaps, then, that’s why we need other people - kind, strong and fierce people - to help us cut the ropes that bind boulders to our backs, to show us how to walk again with un-curved spines; whom, in turn, we help in the ways we know how. Because perhaps we belong with each other just as much as we belong with ourselves. This is community and not the way of the oppressor.
A quote from an author I do not recall currently is in order, “Your fear of your lack of strength or fortitude must not, on the whole, diminish your desire to help or your hope in other peoples’ ability to grow seeds where you struggle. That is the purpose of the unit; we all have different roles.”
The Ends
Completing this book was work. I began the journey at a particularly hard time in my life. My Nani had just died, my mother was sick and I was quarantined in my house (your usual pandemic scene). I needed something to fill my hours and to soothe my aching heart and mind. This book came to me like a Hiatus Kaiyote song; like “clover and wildflowers, when the soul is tired and needing.” It took me six months to finish and when I was done there was no air of finality, no big realisation - just a profound sense of gratitude and an awareness that the Work continues.
A member of the new resistance in Aburiria says somewhere near the end of the book, “We believe that all knowledge is our inheritance, but we also have a duty to add to the common store. The right to receive, the duty to give.”
This piece of writing is part of my inheritance; a work of sincere depth and love; one that I like to believe I share in. It is a call to stay with the trouble, to create, develop and add to knowledge, to share it freely, to deeply connect with each other, to acknowledge our stakes here on Planet Earth; to do so playfully and with intention.
Thank you for your time!
rumaho76's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
funny
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
emr158's review against another edition
emotional
funny
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
grayjay's review against another edition
3.0
This novel about power, corruption, and belief was a wild ride with lively characters and a convoluted, but hooking plot
Although I don't have a background in the history and politics of totalitarian countries in Africa the author is satirizing, I was kept engaged by the interesting characters, madcap plot devices, and absurdity of it all.
Although I don't have a background in the history and politics of totalitarian countries in Africa the author is satirizing, I was kept engaged by the interesting characters, madcap plot devices, and absurdity of it all.
alfsan's review against another edition
5.0
A great insight into African politics, social and religious beliefs. It’s a very log but entertaining book.
cameronkobesauthor's review against another edition
5.0
'Wizard of the Crow' is a massive novel and takes a very long time to read, but it's definitely worth it. Despite being 766 pages long, it's never boring. The characters are larger-than-life, the story is engrossing, and the use of magic realism is absolutely fantastic. I do wish I had more context for what the author is criticizing and satirizing though; I think I would have gotten more out of the book if I'd known more about Kenyan history and post-colonial Africa.
barthe456's review against another edition
challenging
funny
inspiring
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Strong character development? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
5.0
oxdubs's review against another edition
I didn't know satire could be so beautiful.
"Knowledge is the discovery of the magic of the ordinary. Like words put into song."
Have you heard the one about the Wind and the Sun? Pull up a chair, it's a long one...
"Knowledge is the discovery of the magic of the ordinary. Like words put into song."
Have you heard the one about the Wind and the Sun? Pull up a chair, it's a long one...