Books I Read July 13th, 2025

I grow slightly stronger every day.

Blue White Red by Alain Mabanckou – An African everyman is seduced, betrayed by the dream of life in Paris.

The Shadow of Things to Come by Kossi Efoui – A youth labors to survive in an imaginary African country turned Orwellian nightmare. Efoui reduces his surrealist landscape to component parts, denuded of cultural specificity and effective as a parable for the creeping totalitarianism of the modern state.

Mohammed and Charlemagne by Henri Pirenne – The collapse of late Roman society in Europe began not with the barbarian invasions, who largely maintained the status quo, but with the expansion of Islam in the Mediterranean, which shut off an essential conduit of trade and thought between Constantinople and Europe and led to the distinctive 'Germanic' culture of the middle ages. Is this true? Maybe? Certainly seems plausible! I found myself entertained by the style and argument.

The King of Warsaw by Szczepan Twardoch – A two-fisted Semitic gangster tries to hold back the tide of fascism in pre-war Warsaw. There is a certain sort of Jewish man who loves to remember the crimes of Meyer Lansky and old Arnie Rothstein, identifying with an ideal of strength they find themselves conspicuously lacking (they will also brag about the raid on Entebbe). As a virile Semitic specimen myself, I am, thank G-d, spared of this predilection. I am not sure if Twardoch is a member of the tribe-that he still lives in Poland suggest not—but this is very much in that vein, a childish fantasy of violence justified by ethnic pride. The back compares it to Inglorious Basterds, another story which dared to ask the burning question 'wouldn't it be fun to shoot Hitler?' Yes, yes it would. Thanks for your contribution.

The Wondrous and Tragic Life of Ivan and Ivanna by Maryse Conde – I read this book.

The Antipeople by Sony Labou Tansi – A schoolmaster loses himself in unfulfilled lust, the corrupt African state, and the comprehensive meaninglessness of the human endeavor. Post-Colonial African existentialism.

Books I Read June 29th, 2025

Many things are sad, but some sad things are beautiful.

The Hounds of Hell by Jean Larteguy – A very lightly fictionalized account of the Katangese rebellion, written by France's Frederick Forsythe. I think I've probably hit my current quota for Congolese history but that's on me, this was a well-written and thoughtfully observed.

The Chronicles of DOOM: Unraveling Rap's Masked Iconoclast by S.H. Fernando Jr. – Probably the best biography we'll get of hip hop's most enigmatic MC, whose obsession with privacy means that fairly basic aspects of his life remain unknown. Ayone reading this is going to be a DOOM fan, and the image that does come out—of a fascinating, brilliant, mercurial and often amoral figure—are worth the price of admission.

The Old Man Who Read Love Stories by Luis Sepulveda – A hunter obsessed with romances pursues a man-eating ocelot into the Amazon in service of a civilizing influence to which he is simultaneously drawn and repelled. Lovely if small.

The Wall by Marlen Haushofen – A vacationing hausfrau awakens one morning to discover her mountain refuge has been cut off by a force field which seems to have also killed every human on the planet. Her struggle to survive with a small menagerie of pets becomes not only an engaging survival story but a profound statement on modernity, motherhood, and our relationship with the natural world. Really excellent, certainly among the best post-apocalyptic novels I've read.

Congo Inc by In Koli Jean Bofane – The ruinous effects of globalization as suffered by a cast of Kinshashan neer-do-wells. Unfocused.

The Silent Cry by Kenzaburo Oe – Two brothers return to their rural hometown, unearth dark secrets expressing the corruption of Japanese society and the existential discomfort of identity and existence. Masterful and disturbing. This feels an ur-text to a lot of other Japanese fiction I've read, full of disturbing imagery, subterranean obsessions and an uncanny if peculiar plot. Murakami in particular seems to have taken a lot of his career from this book. But don't hold that against it! If you're in the market for a difficult, peculiar, moody work from a Nobel laureate you could do a lot worse.

Night on the Galactic Railroad and Other Stories from Ihatov by Kenij Miyazawa – A lovely little parable by Japan's most beloved children's writer. Sad and bright.

Books I Read June 22nd, 2025

Ashamed to be an American. Not that proud to be a Jew. I also didn't read as much as I might have. Alas, alack.

A New Name: Septology VI-VII by Jon Fosse – I don't have the energy for the joke where I write this in Fosse's single sentence style, which is maybe not that funny anymore anyway. The final volume of Fosse's epic depiction of an aging artist's final days in a small house on the Norwegian coast is, like the first two, ruminative and luminous. The prose replicates the intangible bleed of observation and memory which make up human thought, while the repetition and simple language turns the act of reading into a meditative, even prayerlike act. The best advertisement for Christianity since Marilynne Robinson, if I were Catholic I'd be ready to add it to the canon.

Seasons of Migrations to the North by Tayeb Salih – This remains a profound and beautiful novel, managing in less than two hundred pages to touch intimately on colonialism, tradition, lust and death. Line to line the language is beautiful, and the structure is complex and distinct but also captivating as a story. Reading it again after ten years I found myself coming to the end and still half-remembering it's final passages...

I choose life. I shall live because there are a few people I want to stay with for the longest possible time, and because I have duties to discharge. It is not my concern whether or not life has meaning. I I am unable to forgive, then I shall try to forget.

Books I Read June 15th, 2025

I was the only white guy the year I worked in the bakery. Everyone else was a first generation immigrant from Mexico or Central America. I knew nothing about professional baking. My Spanish was extremely limited. I was not expected to stay long. But I stuck with it, stacking bins and sorting palettes of flour, trying to make up in effort what I lacked in skill. One day, some six months into my tenure, when I was scrubbing ash out of the deck ovens, the second in command of the bread department came over and interrupted my efforts.

“You work like a Mexican,” he said.

I felt honored, and remain so. The men and woman with whom I worked (both as a baker and later as a line cook) upheld the highest standards of the immigrant ideal. Industrious, sober, capable and family oriented. There is absolutely no question that without their labor, the city would fall apart. Moreover, without their existence the city would not be what it is, a glorious, contradictory amalgamation which I have been privileged to call my home for some eight years.

At the moment, LA feels like an occupied country. Foreigners have descended to arbitrarily remove members of the community, and to parade, weapons drawn, across our public spaces. The minor acts of nightly mayhem which we have suffered are due entirely to this provocation, and are an anticipated result of the weakening of the rule of law. As so often, I'm reminded of Rebecca West's judgment of the human species in her endlessly valuable Black Lamb and Grey Falcon:

Only part of us is sane: only part of us loves pleasure and the longer day of happiness, wants to live to our nineties and die in peace, in a house that we built, that shall shelter those who come after us. The other half of us is nearly mad. It prefers the disagreeable to the agreeable, loves pain and its darker night despair, and wants to die in a catastrophe that will set back life to its beginnings and leave nothing of our house save its blackened foundations.”

Curse Donald Trump and anyone who ever supported him. May the weight of your choices fall to you and you alone.

Land and Blood by Maloud Ferouan – Inter-familial tension smolders than explodes in a Kabylite village shortly before the war of independence. The well-observed customs of a dying world, if a bit formal feeling.

I am Alive by Kettly Mars – The Haitian earthquake of 2010 sends a schizophrenic back to his bourgeoisie creole family for the first time in thirty years, upends and inspiring the household. Unfolding in polyphonic confessional, Mars paints an honest but hopeful portrait of mental illness and its secondhand effects, one painfully recognizable apart from any distinction in language, race or culture. Mars is a writer of rare talent, I've been impressed with this and the also excellent Savage Seasons.

Season of Crimson Blossoms by Abubakar Adam Ibrahim – A May-December romance between an aging Islamic widow and a street tough leads to devastating consequences for all in this strange, bleak, original tale. I found the unfamiliar context and sympathetically drawn characters engaging. An impressive debut.

Black Moses by Alain Mabanckou – An orphaned youth tries to find his way in 70's Brazzaville in this brisk and stylish Dickensian satire. Mabanckou's work roils with energy and cleverness.

Chronicle of a Blood Merchant by Ya Hua – Half satire of village life in post-Revolutionary China, half epic chronicle of a man's journey into fatherhood. Ya Hua made his name as an enfante terrible of Mandarin letter but this is funny and sentimental (though not cloying). I bought it for my Dad for father's day.

I was an Elephant Salesman by Pap Khouma – A loosely fictionalized account of the author's experiences as a seller of trinkets in Italy during the mid and late 1980s, before the explosion of immigration from Africa. Engaging and touching, its depiction of the hazards of life as an undocumented immigrant felt sadly apropos given the situation.

Books Read June 8th, 2025

There is no civil unrest in LA right now, and the national guard as useless as tits on a mule. Not infrequently I get messages from friends or family like ‘is everything OK?’ and then I go online and discover a store in Torrance has been burned down or someone punched someone in Santa Monica and it’s like ‘ugh there are tens of millions of us things are fine.’ Since it’s inception there has always been some quailty of Los Angeles which seems to preface it’s own destruction, and yet we muddle on despite.

Kaveena by Boubacar Boris Diap – A disgraced police chief investigates the ruined post-colonial past of his fictitious West African country. Uneven but worthwhile.

The Thin Place by Kathryn Davis – An impossible season in a small American town. Like all of Davis's work this is difficult, interesting, and largely plotless. I would describe it as an attempt to imbue the minute interactions of humans and the natural world with uncanny luminosity such as to blur the line between reality and fantasy, and in that it was largely effective. I would warn perspective readers that I am a sucker for Davis's prose, which is strange and original, and if you aren't as captivated with it on a line by line basis you might kind of be like what the fuck have I been doing the last three hundred pages.

Mission Accomplished by Mongo Beti – A callow student is deputized to visit his rural cousins and retrieve his uncle's faithless wife in this jovial satire of local customs and the town/country divide. I gather Beti is better known for his more serious, anti-colonial work, but this was sharp and funny and mean and I'm sorry it seems like no one reads it anymore.

The Revolt of the Masses by Jose Ortega y Gasset – I picked this one up because Bolano name checked it somewhere and I find it's good to make myself read a little bit of philosophy now and again, just to stretch my brain. And you can't really argue with...

As they [mass man] do not see, beyond the benefits of civilization, marvels of invention and constructionn which can only be maintained by great effort and foresight, they imagine their role is limited to demanding these benefits preemprotily, as if they were naturala rights. In the disturbances caused by scarcity of food, the mob goes in search of bread, and the means it employs is generally to wreck the bakeries. This may serve as a symbol of the attitude adopted, on a greater and more complicated scale, by the masses of to-day towards the civilization by which they are supported.

Though it does goes optimistically off the rails in the back third with its prediction of fascism's early demise.

Books I Read June 1st, 2025

This week I stepped on salt flats.

The Shameful State by Sony Labou Tansi – A surrealist post-modern satire of the African tyrant, I gather effectively the ur-text for this form of regional fiction. Not an easy read, as you'd imagine from the description, but excellent all the same. The language is complex but comprehensible, if viscerally and deliberately unpleasant at points. Another Alain Mabanckou recommendation which was very much worth the time.

African Dominion: A New History of Empire in Early and Medieval West Africa by Michael A. Gomez – A comprehensively researched, relatively readable history of the great pre-colonial West African empires. Limitations in the historical record make the early portions a little touch and go but the later bits offered valuable (to me) insight into the basis framework of the epoch.

No Sweetness Here and Other Stories by Ama Ata Aidoo – Elegant short fiction exploring the disappointment of the post-colonial African dream. Varied and well-realized.

Waiting for the Waters to Rise by Maryse Conde – A kindly disaporean doctor tries to return a Haitain newborn to her family.

Books I Read May 25th, 2025

Reading sometimes helps.

This Mournable Body by Tsitsi Dangarembga – The third in Dangarembga's exploration of the failed promise of post-colonial Zimbabwe as experienced by an ever-suffering everywoman.

The Festival of the Greasy Pole by René Depestre – A middle-aged ex-Senator becomes the face of revolt against the Duvalier regime when he attempts a feat of strength during a national festival. An cri de couer to the embittered Haitian people from an exiled dissident.

The Knight and His Shadow by Boubacar Boris Diop – A man journeys to save his ex-lover, who has become lost in the threads of her own story, only to become entangled in the same. The loose plot quickly gives way to a stream of nested stories reflecting on love, loss, madness, and the Rwandan genocide. More of an experience than a conventional novel but I enjoyed it and will seek out something else by Diop.

The Snares by Rav Grewal-Kök – A Punjabi lawyer enters the intelligence service at the start of the Obama administration, loses his soul in a bid for power. High literature with a genre bent, a paranoid thriller made real as much by its attention to practical detail as by the life and depth it breathes into its characters. Shades of Patrick Manchette and Leonard Sciascia. Excellent, strong rec.

Butterfly of Dinard by Eugenio Montale – Tiny, cheery stories by a mid-century Italian poet. Slight but lovely.

Books I Read May 18th, 2025

For my birthday I made…

…strawberry tangzhong donuts and read the following books…

Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi – A girl struggles to address the fractured divinities within her mind, medium-ship (?) as a metaphor for mental illness and the complexities of human identity. The idea of competing gods controlling the character and narrative offers an original and compelling take on a fairly conventional coming of age story, although I once again found myself thinking that the use of magic as a literary device allowed for an overly neat conclusion. A lot of my recent forays into African fiction have left me wondering how seriously I'm supposed to take the spiritual aspects of the writing, if they exist entirely as metaphor or are representative of some genuine belief.

Disappearance by Yuri Trofonov – Youthful recollections of the wartime purges which took the author's father and uncle, Soviet stalwarts erased by Stalin's madness. Published posthumously and left unfinished, which was too bad for everyone—this has the makings of something profound and epic, another Life and Fate or The Burning Years.

Broken Glass by Alain Mabanckou – Stories from the downtrodden patrons of Kinshasa's foremost dive bar as told to the eponymous drunkard/intellectual. Rabeleisque tales of cuckoldry and failure, told in Mabanckou's house style, a run-on sentence interrupted by commas and occasional page breaks. I dig it, reminds me a bit of Bohumil Hrabel in its wit and absurdity.

Not So Much, Said the Cat by Michael Swanwick – Literate speculative fiction. Fun and engaging.

I is Another: Septology III-V by Jan Fosse – part two of Fosse's story of an aging artist named Asle and the small cast of characters with very similar names, yes, identity and personhood are part of what we are discussing, yes, what makes us different but more what makes us the same, the indissoluble similarities of time and suffering and death, yes, but also of love and God, yes, there is quite a lot of God in this which I enjoy despite, and after a few pages Fosse's rolling sentence and simple cadence becomes soothing, yes, a comforting way to spend a few quiet hours

Journal, 1955-1962: Reflections on the French-Algerian War by Mouloud Feraoun – The intimate reflections of a righteous man caught in the horrifying brutality of urban warfare. Feraoun was one of Algeria's leading authors and intellectuals as well as a primary school administrator, and his attempt to understand and survive the collapse of French Algeria makes for poignant and tragic reading. Even-handed in its judgments, sincere in its conviction, this is a profound attempt to grapple with the end of the colonial project and the endless compromises required to survive in wartime. That the author would be murdered by the OAS shortly before the start of independence only offers a bitter poignancy to an already worthwhile work.

Books I Read May 11th, 2025

I count my blessings in quarter tones.

Cruel City by Mongo Beti – A restless villager tries to cope with the rapid urbanization of post-war Africa. A notable first novel, in the sense of demonstrating talent but not actually fitting working on its own. I did really enjoy the attached essay, however, in which Beti takes a shot at a then ascendant Camara Laye.

The Book Censor's Library by Bothayna Al-Essa – A father struggles against a dystopian future in which imagination has been eliminated.

Senegambia and the Atlantic Slave Trade by Boubacar Barry – A clear if dry overview of the 400 odd-years between the arrival of the first Portuguese trader and the complete colonization of the region. A grim but fascinating subject, and I'm always excited to learn about a portion of human history of which I'm only very broadly aware.

Books I Read May 5th, 2025

Been a few weeks absent. Life sometimes complicates one's desire to read books. Nevertheless, this is what I've managed since last I hollered at you.

The Guardian of the Word by Camara Laye – The Malian foundational epic, ostensibly (?) the recitation of a surviving West African griot. Oddly its closet parallels for me would be like, cheap paperback fantasy novels of the 70's, which isn't really a knock. Interesting as a few hundred pages but I'm not sure I could comment on it further.

The Blunder by Mutt-Lon – An English nurse journeys into the heart of an unsettled colonial Cameroon, trying to fend off war brought about by the blinding of many of the natives as an unintended effect of vaccinating for sleeping sickness. Dimly based on real events, this is an excellent work of historical fiction, an engaging narrative wrapped around a broader commentary on the time in question..

The Loss of El Dorado: A Colonial History by V.S. Naipaul – The history of Trinidad, from its first occupation by the Spanish to the importation of the Indian workers who would become Naipaul's ancestors. Told largely from primary sources, it is the story of human corruption given free vent by the distance from the 'real', that is to say, European world. Over the course of hundreds of years the blind quest for non-existent gold and the importation of African slave labor gives birth to an inescapably immoral society, one in which no amount of decency or good intention can free an actor from the inevitable decay of colonialism. Such, at least, is Naipaul's claim, which certainly seems convincing though I imagine their must be a few Trinidadian nationalists who would take umbrage. Also, in its defense, Trini cuisine, with is distinct mix of Africa, Indian and Chinese influences is one of the great delights of the region (and to my admittedly peculiar tastebuds, the Western world), something which Naipaul tends to completely overlook in discussing his homeland. Not that any of that's anything one way or the other, I suppose, but damn if I don't love me a double.

Books I Read April 13th, 2025

Back in Baltimore for a bit. Love the people you can, while you can.

India: A Portrait by Patrick French – An idiosyncratic depiction of modern India. Even 1,000 pages is obviously insufficient to touch upon so large a topic, and once might quibble with some of his priorities (there’s an awful lot of Indira Ghandi-related scuttlebutt) but basically this was thoughtful and engaging.

The Belle Creole by Maryse Conde – The acquitted murderer of middle-aged white woman becomes the thread that ties a decaying Guadeloupe in this vivid and insightful ensemble piece. The characters are well-realized and sympathetically drawn, I’ll check out something else by Conde.

Embers by Sandor Marai – The delayed reunion of two aged friends, drawn together by a terrible secret and the splendors of the dying Dual-Monarchy. I read this in college and loved it but can’t say I truly understood it. Not that it’s difficult, particularly, only that it took time and loss to fully appreciate this story of youth, love, and the eternal presentness of lost passion. Beautiful.  

The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett – Another classic I hadn’t looked at for a long time, and still an absolute banger. Hammet’s economy of style is masterful, re-reading it I was struck by how closely he keeps his hand, you really don’t have any idea of Spade’s motivations until the final, masterful, denouement. Really enjoyed this.

Gorgias by Plato – ‘I don’t mind seeing a young lad take up philosophy; it seems perfectly appropriate. It shows an open mind, I think, whereas neglect of philosophy at this age signifies pettiness and condemns a man to a low estimation of his worth and potential. On the other hand, when I see an older man who hasn’t dropped philosophy, but is still practicing it, Socrates, I think it is he who deserves a thrashing…under these circumstances, even a naturally gifted person isn’t going to develop into a real man, because he’s avoiding the heart of his community and the thick of the agora, which are the places where, as Homer tells us, a man “earns distinction.” Instead he spends the rest of his life sunk out of sight, whispering in a corner with three or four young men, rather than giving open expression to important and significant ideas.’

Recoil by Jim Thompson – An ex-felon tries to free himself from the corrupt machinations of his supposed benefactor. One Thompson’s ‘nicer,’ which is to say lesser, works. Still, he remains one of the great noir writers of all time. No one did menace like Jim Thompson.  

Day of the Owl by Leonardo Sciascia – The only honest policeman in Sicily tries to solve a murder. Spare, tight, sincere, moral. Sciascia deserves his rep.  

The Insufferable Gaucho by Roberto Bolano – Masterpieces of short fiction. Police Rat, in particular, remains one of my all time favorite stories, something that resonates with me more even as a man than a writer.  

Books I Read April 6th, 2025

Read some real heat this week. Also made excellent apple butter, though that's not really germane to the following.

The Five Sorrowful Mysteries of Andy Africa by Stephen Buoro – A modern day Arturo Bandini in rural Nigerian grapples with the immense disconnect between his potential and the impoverished and violent reality which surrounds him. One of the interesting things about the headlong dive I've taken into African fiction in the last few months is that it's forced me to rely to a a far greater degree than normal on listicles and book awards, meaning that much of what I've read is clearly governed by literary trends, to a greater degree at least than my normal selection of obscure 70's east German novelettes. All of which is to say, do your best to ignore the title—I can say from personal experience that every editor alive seems to be pushing 'The Numbered Things of Namey McPersonson' on each new acquisition—this is an excellent, if uneven, debut novel, scathing in its honesty and intimacy, if marred a bit by an excess of tragedy in the narrative. I'll keep an eye out for the next thing.

Savage Seasons by Kettly Mars – A desperate mother in 60's Port-au-Prince makes a deal with the devil, selling herself to one of Duvalier's henchman in exchange for protection for her and her family. Masterful. This is some hot-hot-heat. Even anticipating the conclusion it is a thrilling and disturbing ride, as well as a profound exploration of the corrupting effects of dictatorship on society. Excellent. Really glad I stumbled across it.

Memoirs of a Porcupine by Alain Mabanckou – A familiar narrates the life of his demonic master in a nightmarish satire of native religious beliefs. The most fruitful method I've found of discovering new (to me) writers is to follow up closely anytime an unknown author is name-checked in a work I'm enjoying. Credit to Fiston Mwanza Mujila for introducing me to this masterful and disturbing work. This is my favorite sort of thing to read—a linguistically innovative but narratively coherent novel from an unfamiliar area exploring the complexity of a human reality which is largely foreign to me. Excellent.

Girls at War and Other Stories by Chinua Achebe – A selection of small masterpieces, encompassing charming rural fairy-tales and complex explorations of life in behind the Biafran blockade. Excellent.

Books I read March 30th, 2025

It could be worse.

This Present Darkness: A History of Nigerian Organized Crime by Stephen Ellis – Ignore the pulpy picture (and the back half of the title), this is a brief but remarkably informative history of modern Nigeria as viewed through the lens of public and private corruption. I'd come across the phenomena of shrine cults in some of Wole Soyinka'a more recent work, but had no idea the degree to which it seems endemic to Nigerian society.

The Other Name: Septology I-II by Jon Fosse – An old painter in a house in rural Norway, yes, isolated from society, yes, except for a few friends with similar names very closely narrates a day and a half in his life, yes, but without periods, no, one long run on sentence about driving places and making sandwiches and painting things and the horrifying beauty of human existence, yes, and God, oh yes, lots about God, and light, lots about light and about God, yes, and about life, yes, and identity yes, the blunt,sincere prose and rhythmic effects of which after several hundred pages is effective, yes, even evocative, although I am the sort of disappointed atheist who finds intelligent books about God to be comfort, yes, even though I can't ever really make myself believe that there is anything out there or even in here, yes, in the very tiny corners and the narrow spaces between things, no, where Fosse sees God I see nothing, not anything at all, no, but still yes it is nice to spend a few hours yes with someone who sees something else, something kinder, and can give that to you yes I'll read the next one

Digging Stars by Novuyo Rosa Tshuma – Afrofuturist campus fantasy.

Sojourn by Amit Chaudhuri – A man in a foreign city begins to lose track of his identity. Chaudhuri is an excellent writer, and this is small but well-crafted work.

The Free-Lance Pallbearers by Ishmael Reed – Reed's debut novel is a nightmarish, slapstick satire of 60's America, an impossibly surreal send-up of politics, history and racial relations. I really like Reed's early stuff, it's funny and horrifying..

Books I Read March 23, 2025

Read a bit this week.

Buried Beneath the Baobab Tree by Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani and Viviana Mazza – The life of a girl in rural northern Nigeria is upended when her village is attacked by Boko Haram. Spare and terrible.

The Brothers' War: Biafra and Nigeria by John de St. Jorre – Had to jump through various hoops to attain a copy of this unfortunately out of print history of the Biafran civil war. Strange that a conflict which was so formative in the West's view of post-colonial Africa has gone so completely down the rabbit hole. Anyway, St. Jorre was a journalist and visited the breakaway Iboan republic, but manages to combine an on the ground view of the conflict with a nuanced take on the complex factors which caused and prolonged it.

The Villain's Dance by Fiston Mwanza Mujila – A selection of neer'do'wells try and make it big in the closing days of the Mobutu regime in this lively and sardonic novel. Mujila emigrated to Austria and there is more than a touch of Mitteleuropa in his bleak hedonism and chaotic enumerations (also he name checks Musil quite a lot). I've become quite a fan of Mujila after two books, his novels are sharp and strange and entirely concerned with themselves rather than pandering to the expectations of a Western audience.

Katanga 1960-63: Mercenaries, Spies and the African Nation that Waged War on the World by Christopher Othen – Congo's first post-colonial war as told in a narrative so compellingly snappy it makes me want to double check the sources. Which admittedly is a backhanded compliment and perhaps a bit unfair, particularly as I found this informative and engaging.

Larger Than Life by Dino Buzzati – A scientist and his wife become involved in a secret government project. I won't say more on the off chance you pick up this largely forgotten post-war Italian sci-fi novella, but it's got a good stiff kick at the end.

The Book of Not by Tsitsi Dangarembga – A precocious native girl matriculates at a mostly white Catholic school in war-torn Rhodesia. Dangarembga is a fine writer, with a sharp eye and a neat pen, but I found this overwhelmingly miserable, and not in the 'boy, war-torn Rhodesia was a shitty place to live' way, so much as a 'only bad things ever happen to this protagonist which undercuts the drama and starts to feel cloying' sort of way. Still, it's a good book and I'll be reading the sequel.

Zulu Zulu Golf: Two Years with KOEVOET by Arn Durand – The auto-biography of a reckless teenager who becomes embroiled in one of South Africa's many small wars throughout the continent. Interesting in an unhinged and amoral way.

Books I Read March 16th, 2025

Back on that reading grind.

Kintu by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi – Another fantastical multi-generational African epic, Ugandan this time. Always interesting to see how even the most 'literary' works tend to function within their own genre ghettos.

African Kings and Black Slaves by Herman L. Bennett – An argument for a revisionist view of early Atlantic slavery which better takes into account the complexities of political relations between the early Portuguese and Spanish slave-traders and the lords and chieftains of Africa's western seaboard. This ended up being a more scholarly work than I'd anticipated, meaning that a great deal of it was concerned with framing its position amid the current academic dialogue, rather than concerning itself with the actual historical interactions of the day. Also, that virtually every sentence could be edited for clarity. Still, it effectively (if somewhat repetitively) fulfills its aims, and it did leave me interested in learning more about pre-Colonial eastern Africa, if anyone's got any suggestions.

The Naked Civil Servant by Quentin Crisp – Mid-century London's preeminent homosexual gadfly narrates his life history in ridiculously sharp prose. In my review of this some seven years ago I wrote 'I was impressed with it in a way which makes me almost not want to praise the thing too highly, for fear that today’s exhilaration will give way to tomorrow’s regret,' but in fact I'm not sure I quite did I justice. Crisp is obscenely witty, every line is sharp and clever, his comically bitter self-focus makes for an engaging anti-hero. But there's also a genuine sense of the profound tragedy of the human condition, one sharpened by Crisp's adoption of a persona of permanent outcast. Perhaps I'm not the best judge but for my money this absolutely belongs in the top tier of queer literature.

Augustown by Kei Miller – History of a pre-Rastifari Pentecostal preacher twinned with a schoolyard tragedy in 80s underclass Jamaica. I read this book.

Books I Read March 9th, 2025

This week I was grateful for books. Not mine so much. Other peoples.

She Who Waits by Daniel Polansky – Quite candidly, I'd hoped it would be better. On the other hand, re-reading it did lead me to recognize a flaw in my writing style which I still sometimes do, so that was something. And I was like, 25 when I wrote it.

The Old Drift by Namwali Serpell – A surrealistic multi-generational re-telling of the modern history of the state of Zambia. As a sub genre, I kind of wish we'd let this die with Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I guess that's on me for picking it up.

A Shining by Jon Fosse – A man gets lost in the forest in another of Fosse's short, sharp fantasies. I enjoyed it but am looking forward to reading something of his that's a bit more substantial.

Africa's World War: Congo, the Rwandan Genocide, and the Making of a Continental Catastrophe by Gerard Prunier – An exhaustively research, compellingly intimate dissection of the Congolese war of (roughly) 96-02, the ethnic and political complexities of which make the dissolution of the Balkans look like the American Civil War. Prunier does an extraordinary job of walking us through the minutia of the conflict while offering what seems a genuinely even-handed insight into what started and prolonged the deadliest conflict since WW2, albeit one that was virtually completely ignored by the foreign press (a situation which, alas, continues in the region to this day). Excellent, if horrifying.

As an unrelated note, it's a source of constant annoyance to me how difficult it is to find works of popular history about Africa, or for that mater the third world, or for that matter the second world, or for that matter basically anything that isn't about Nazis or the founding fathers. Forty fucking books about the Normandy landings come out every year but heaven forbid I want to learn something about the Biafran conflict or say, post-Colonial North Africa.

Books I Read March 2nd, 2025

There is beauty in the failures we allow ourselves to live with.

Tomorrow, the Killing by Daniel Polansky – As a pretty iron clad rule, I do not re-read the things I've published (I get my masochistic thrills elsewhere), but for an upcoming project (and with great trepidation) I picked this up for the first time since I sent it off to the publisher some 13? 14 years ago? It was a fascinating if not altogether pleasant experience. Not shockingly, I had forgotten swathes of it, side characters and subplots, Easter eggs and personal references I stumbled upon with some joy. Largely, however, this was eclipsed by the predictable post-facto edits one desperately wishes one could inflict on the text. Anyway, is it good? It's OK. Some of the lines are strong and the plot moves swiftly. The nefarious plotting is pretty clever by the standards of noir and very clever by the standards of fantasy. I'd change most of the world-building and I'd cut most of the asides and I'd rewrite about half the dialogues. Also, it's mawkish and overly sentimental. So, yeah, mixed bag. I suspect most people who read it would enjoy it more than I did, but that might be self-deception.

House of Stone by Novuyo Rosa Tshuma – A rootless lodger usurps the family history of his surrogate family in this multi-generational novel of post-colonial Zimbabwe. An absolutely masterful debut, at once a disturbing work of genre fiction and an insightful exploration of how power shapes history and history identity. Very strong recommendation, Tshuma is a writer worth watching.

Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche – 'Supposing truth were a woman—what then?' Something else I haven't read in about 20 years, though I can't say what it was that brought me back. Lately I suppose I've just had more of a yen to test the works of my youth against the internal aesthetic barometer I've developed since. For once my present and past selves seem more or less in agreement. Few men have ever so fully explored the ramifications of subjectivity in the human experience. And he remains howlingly funny, rich with one-liners and brilliant asides. To whit...

'Men of profound sadness betray themselves when they are happy: they have a mode of seizing upon happiness as though they would choke and strangle it, out of jealousy—ah, they know only too well that it will flee them!'

'Books for the general reader are always ill-smelling books, the odor of paltry people clings to them. Where the populace eat and drink, and even where they reverence it is accustomed to stink.'

'Many a peacock hides his tail from every eye—and calls it pride.'

Downsides, he writes like an INCEL on a 'reddit forum thread', with this FRUSTRATING TENDENCY to capitalize words as means of emphasis and a 'penchant' for putting things in 'inverted commas' which CERTAINLY SEEMS 'arbitrary.' And, of course, for all the power and weight of his critiques, for all his ferocious and undeniable brilliance, the fact remains that pressed into service as any sort of prescriptive guide his views remain incoherent where they aren't fundamentally objectionable Still, it was fun to poke at this side of my brain again.

Books I Read February 23rd, 2025

There are reasons to despair. Best try and ignore them.

Nightsongs by Jon Fosse – A newborn causes problems in a marriage. Fosse uses simple language and repetition to powerful lyrical effect. Looking forward to reading something from him of more substance.

Caligula by Suetonius – Is making your horse a consul really any worse than making Elon Musk head of DOGE? May a similar end befall our Imperial idiot..

Tram 83 by Fiston Mwanza Mujila – A pair of frenemies struggle to survive in a surrealist Kinshasa. Vibrant, clever, and funny, Mujila's vision is at once apocalyptic and joyful, relishing the anarchic energy of his hometown while lamenting it's poverty, violence and despair. Strong stuff.

The Spirit of Science Fiction by Roberto Bolano – A pair of teenagers journey about a nighttime Mexico City, obsessively discuss genre fiction and poetry, fall in love with girls. Similar territory to Savage Detectives but since I love Savage Detectives this didn't bother me. I always have time for Bolano's alternatively horrifying and exhilarating depiction of youth, particularly as I age. Also a lot of fun to see Bolano name check North American fantasists; I laughed aloud at one long segment in which one character spoils the plot of a Gene Wolfe story—two of my all time favorite writers coming together on the page.

Books I Read February 16th 2025

In the unlikely event that anyone reading this page voted for Donald Trump, know that you have my abiding acontempt.

In Watermelon Sugar by Richard Brautigan – A surreal 60s fable. Slender, odd, fun. Reminded me a bit of John Crowley's Engine Summer but with a lot less world building.

Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga – A young girl in rural Zimbabwe struggles against the corruption of native society by the stricture of colonial thought. Despairing but well-observed.

The Embarrassment of Riches: An Interpretation of Dutch Culture in the Golden Age by Simon Schama – Schama's magisterial cultural history of the Dutch's brief reign as European superpower and how it helped formed modernity. Longtime readers will know of my affection for William the Silent, for the besieged at Breda and the stolid burghers who threw down the might of the Western Hapsburgs. Those who lack this peculiar affinity may find less of interest in this long, dense volume but it remains an admirable attempt to retrace the opinions and thought processes of a vanished people.

Wizard of the Crow by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o – An everyman turned shaman inadvertently sets himself against a corrupt dictator. Engaging if didactic.

On My Aunt's Shallow Grave White Roses Have Already Bloomed by Maria Mitsoara – Esoteric micro-fiction of the erotic and faintly ominous variety. I dug it.

The Story of the Jews: Finding the Words, 1000 BCE – 1492 CE by Simon Schama – An idiosyncratic history of the Jewish people from their entry into Israel to their exile from Iberia. I remain endlessly fascinated by the peregrinations of my ancestors, and of the world-sustaining fantasy they built.

Morning and Evening by Jon Fosse – The life and death of a Norwegian fisherman as told in a hundred glittering pages. The prose is rapid and lovely.

The Joys of Motherhood by Buchi Emecheta – The profound misery of being a woman in late-colonial Nigeria, lucidly expressed. Shades of Doris Lessing in the utterly unromantic depictions of motherhood.

The Left Handed Woman by Peter Handke – A woman arrives at an arbitrary-seeming decision to end her marriage, grows because of it. Of a type, but brief.

Books I Read January 17th

And look, the LORD is about to pass over, with a great and strong wind tearing apart mountains and smashing rocks before the LORD. Not in the wind is the LORD. And after the wind an earthquake. Not in the earthquake is the LORD. And after the earthquake—fire. Not in the fire is the LORD. And after the fire, a sound of minute stillness.

I hope you’re safe.

Carter Beats the Devil by Glen David Gold – I read this book.

Erasmus of Rotterdam by Stefan Zweig – A hagiography to the early enlightenment's most cosmopolitan thinker. Zweig's fuzzy, exaggerated enthusiasm is such that I managed to read 300 pages on Erasmus of Rotterdam without actually learning very much about Erasmus of Rotterdam. Which is unfortunate, because that was really my motivation behind getting this out of the library.

Ancient Israel: The Former Prophets: Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings: A Translation with Commentary by Robert Alter – Still holds up.

Equal Danger by Leonardo Sciascia – An upright investigator squares off against a corrupt society in this brief gut punch of a novel. Sciascia is the Italian Manchette. Or is Manchette the French Sciascia?