What do you think?
Rate this book
Der Vizekönig von Ouidah
Die grausame und phantastische Geschichte des berüchtigten brasilianischen Sklavenhändlers Francisco da Silva. Von Macht und vom Trieb, von der Gier, dem Luxus und der Verblendung erzählt Chatwin in prächtig schillernden Bildern, die nicht nur die Schrecken, sondern auch die Faszination beschwören, die von dieser exotischen Welt ausgehen. Werner Herzog hat den Roman unter dem Titel "Cobra Verde" verfilmt.
192 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1980
36 people are currently reading
1399 people want to read
About the author
Bruce Chatwin
66 books670 followersCharles Bruce Chatwin was an English novelist and travel writer. He won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize for his novel On the Black Hill (1982).
In 1972, Chatwin interviewed the 93-year-old architect and designer Eileen Gray in her Paris salon, where he noticed a map of the area of South America called Patagonia, which she had painted. "I've always wanted to go there," Bruce told her. "So have I," she replied, "go there for me." Two years later in November 1974, Chatwin flew out to Lima in Peru, and reached Patagonia a month later. When he arrived, he left the newspaper with a telegram: "Have gone to Patagonia." He spent six months in the area, a trip which resulted in the book In Patagonia (1977). This work established his reputation as a travel writer. Later, however, residents in the region contradicted the account of events depicted in Chatwin's book. It was the first time in his career, but not the last, that conversations and characters which Chatwin presented as fact were alleged to have been fictionalised.
Later works included a novel based on the slave trade, The Viceroy of Ouidah, which he researched with extended stays in Benin, West Africa. For The Songlines (1987), a work combining fiction and non-fiction, Chatwin went to Australia. He studied the culture to express how the songs of the Aborigines are a cross between a creation myth, an atlas and an Aboriginal man's personal story. He also related the travelling expressed in The Songlines to his own travels and the long nomadic past of humans. Winner of the James Tait Black Memorial Prize, his novel On the Black Hill (1982) was set closer to home, in the hill farms of the Welsh Borders. It focuses on the relationship between twin brothers, Lewis and Benjamin, who grow up isolated from the course of twentieth century history. Utz (1988), was a novel about the obsession that leads people to collect. Set in Prague, the novel details the life and death of Kaspar Utz, a man obsessed with his collection of Meissen porcelain.
Chatwin was working on a number of new ideas for future novels at the time of his death from AIDS in 1989, including a transcontinental epic, provisionally titled Lydia Livingstone.
In 1972, Chatwin interviewed the 93-year-old architect and designer Eileen Gray in her Paris salon, where he noticed a map of the area of South America called Patagonia, which she had painted. "I've always wanted to go there," Bruce told her. "So have I," she replied, "go there for me." Two years later in November 1974, Chatwin flew out to Lima in Peru, and reached Patagonia a month later. When he arrived, he left the newspaper with a telegram: "Have gone to Patagonia." He spent six months in the area, a trip which resulted in the book In Patagonia (1977). This work established his reputation as a travel writer. Later, however, residents in the region contradicted the account of events depicted in Chatwin's book. It was the first time in his career, but not the last, that conversations and characters which Chatwin presented as fact were alleged to have been fictionalised.
Later works included a novel based on the slave trade, The Viceroy of Ouidah, which he researched with extended stays in Benin, West Africa. For The Songlines (1987), a work combining fiction and non-fiction, Chatwin went to Australia. He studied the culture to express how the songs of the Aborigines are a cross between a creation myth, an atlas and an Aboriginal man's personal story. He also related the travelling expressed in The Songlines to his own travels and the long nomadic past of humans. Winner of the James Tait Black Memorial Prize, his novel On the Black Hill (1982) was set closer to home, in the hill farms of the Welsh Borders. It focuses on the relationship between twin brothers, Lewis and Benjamin, who grow up isolated from the course of twentieth century history. Utz (1988), was a novel about the obsession that leads people to collect. Set in Prague, the novel details the life and death of Kaspar Utz, a man obsessed with his collection of Meissen porcelain.
Chatwin was working on a number of new ideas for future novels at the time of his death from AIDS in 1989, including a transcontinental epic, provisionally titled Lydia Livingstone.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 151 reviews
March 27, 2021
Bruce Chatwin was one of those authors whose name I had seen once or twice, mostly in the travel section, before but never paid any serious attention to until I looked him up. Turns out he was one of the few men Robert Mapplethrope photographed with clothes on. He had an affair with Mapplethorpe’s lover, Sam Wagstaff, and like both Mapplethorpe and Wagstaff he died of AIDS-related complications. His last novel, Utz, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize the year before his death. Who knew?
This is his first novel, and like Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Blue Flower it is the absolute antithesis of the historical fiction novel. The imagery is absolutely gorgeous, but some will certainly be put off by its brevity. What would take anyone else pages, he puts down in paragraphs, and perhaps because of this it reads almost like a history textbook at times (the protagonist is loosely based off of a real slave trader)—this happened and then this happened and then this happened. There is very little dialogue, and he flits form scene to scene without ever quite grounding the reader in his story, which is certainly unique--the Atlantic slave trade explored from a Brazilian Portuguese perspective. Not a book I will easily forget, even if I consider it (and I could be wrong) an appetizer to some of his other writing.
This is his first novel, and like Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Blue Flower it is the absolute antithesis of the historical fiction novel. The imagery is absolutely gorgeous, but some will certainly be put off by its brevity. What would take anyone else pages, he puts down in paragraphs, and perhaps because of this it reads almost like a history textbook at times (the protagonist is loosely based off of a real slave trader)—this happened and then this happened and then this happened. There is very little dialogue, and he flits form scene to scene without ever quite grounding the reader in his story, which is certainly unique--the Atlantic slave trade explored from a Brazilian Portuguese perspective. Not a book I will easily forget, even if I consider it (and I could be wrong) an appetizer to some of his other writing.
June 26, 2019
Probably the best novel I've read so far this year. I had never read anything by Chatwin before this and I picked it up with the assumption it was going to just be another novel in the 'English' style. How wrong I was! Chatwin writes like a more bloody and concise version of Marquez, with an incredible ability to evoke landscapes, situations and the oddities of people. Imagine a cross between Marquez and Conrad's *Heart of Darkness* with the addition of several big spoonfuls of voodoo imagery!
Although only 100 pages long, *The Viceroy of Ouidah* packs in an incredible amount of detail. Chatwin's blend of dreamlike fantasy, nightmarish horror and tough realism is very affecting. The main part of the story concerns a Brazilian slaver who travels to the Kingdom of Dahomey to corner the business. Franciso Manoel the slaver is a bad man but the kings he is forced to deal with are even worse. The fascinating moral ambiguities are always present, and the main motifs of despair, courage, the instinct to survive, love, ambition, lust and remorse are treated in a genuinely profound way.
Although only 100 pages long, *The Viceroy of Ouidah* packs in an incredible amount of detail. Chatwin's blend of dreamlike fantasy, nightmarish horror and tough realism is very affecting. The main part of the story concerns a Brazilian slaver who travels to the Kingdom of Dahomey to corner the business. Franciso Manoel the slaver is a bad man but the kings he is forced to deal with are even worse. The fascinating moral ambiguities are always present, and the main motifs of despair, courage, the instinct to survive, love, ambition, lust and remorse are treated in a genuinely profound way.
June 12, 2018
It makes me sad, but with The Viceroy of Ouidah I’ve come to the last of Bruce Chatwin’s long-form works. All that remain are a handful of essays and other short pieces. He might have lived a little longer, just to please me by writing more, but that’s not the way things worked out. I was a teenager when he died in 1989.
I was not an admirer of Chatwin’s work on first introduction. His eccentric interests and not-quite-fact, not-quite-fiction approach to writing threw me for a loop. But as I grew older and stranger, and hence more appreciative of strangeness in general, I found in Chatwin an enjoyable companion. I’ve said before that reading Chatwin is like watching Werner Herzog movies, and I stand by the comparison.
In fact, Herzog made a film version of the book in question. He called the film Cobra Verde and Klaus Kinski played the starring role as Brazilian slaver Manoel Francisco da Silva, who carved out a sort of principality for himself in 19th century Dahomey (modern-day Benin and surrounding areas). I have not seen it.
The Viceroy of Ouidah is a distressing book, like the history it portrays. The rot and decay and brutality of the tropics are mirrored in the rot and decay and brutality of people. Blame the Europeans for introducing slavery to the Americas. Blame the colonists for its expansion in a slave-labor economy. Blame the tribal warlords of Africa for enriching themselves by the sale of captives. Blame even the ex-slaves who returned to Africa to engage in the slave trade on their own behalf (this really happened). Blame the old slaver’s black descendants, too, who revel in their attenuated Brazilian heritage and white ancestry. There’s culpability enough to go around.
[An aside: People in the United States often overlook the fact that race-based slavery was a fact throughout the western hemisphere and not just in the American South. Nowhere was it a larger factor than in Brazil, where, by most counts, nearly 5 million slaves were imported from Africa (vs. a half million in the British colonies of North America). Brazil finally abolished slavery only twenty years after the American Civil War.]
No discussion of the larger issues, however, captures the essence of Chatwin’s book. It is not a book about issues as such but about people, and places, and points in time. Every paragraph is a snapshot, a vivid, minutely observed vignette. The prose is classic Chatwin. The story, even in so short a book, does not lose by comparison with the magic realist novels of Latin America, with which it might be compared.
I was not an admirer of Chatwin’s work on first introduction. His eccentric interests and not-quite-fact, not-quite-fiction approach to writing threw me for a loop. But as I grew older and stranger, and hence more appreciative of strangeness in general, I found in Chatwin an enjoyable companion. I’ve said before that reading Chatwin is like watching Werner Herzog movies, and I stand by the comparison.
In fact, Herzog made a film version of the book in question. He called the film Cobra Verde and Klaus Kinski played the starring role as Brazilian slaver Manoel Francisco da Silva, who carved out a sort of principality for himself in 19th century Dahomey (modern-day Benin and surrounding areas). I have not seen it.
The Viceroy of Ouidah is a distressing book, like the history it portrays. The rot and decay and brutality of the tropics are mirrored in the rot and decay and brutality of people. Blame the Europeans for introducing slavery to the Americas. Blame the colonists for its expansion in a slave-labor economy. Blame the tribal warlords of Africa for enriching themselves by the sale of captives. Blame even the ex-slaves who returned to Africa to engage in the slave trade on their own behalf (this really happened). Blame the old slaver’s black descendants, too, who revel in their attenuated Brazilian heritage and white ancestry. There’s culpability enough to go around.
[An aside: People in the United States often overlook the fact that race-based slavery was a fact throughout the western hemisphere and not just in the American South. Nowhere was it a larger factor than in Brazil, where, by most counts, nearly 5 million slaves were imported from Africa (vs. a half million in the British colonies of North America). Brazil finally abolished slavery only twenty years after the American Civil War.]
No discussion of the larger issues, however, captures the essence of Chatwin’s book. It is not a book about issues as such but about people, and places, and points in time. Every paragraph is a snapshot, a vivid, minutely observed vignette. The prose is classic Chatwin. The story, even in so short a book, does not lose by comparison with the magic realist novels of Latin America, with which it might be compared.
February 7, 2017
Ljetos sam na PopArt marketu cijeli dan proveo pržeći se na suncu i prodajući knjige. I ko za inat, na kraju dana naletim na ovu knjigu i toliko mi se svidi da ono malo zarađene siće odmah potroših na nju. Kasnije sam je nekako izgubio pa sam je mjesecima tražio po kući, a i na mjestima gdje sam bio tog dana. A šta me je to privuklo?
"Siroče i siromah Fransisko Manoel izrastao je u jednog od onih sentimentalno okrutnih ljudi kakvima je obilovalo njegovo doba. Iz brazilskih zabiti stići će do obale Dahomeja, današnjeg Benina, u zapadnoj Africi i otpočeti trgovinu robljem. Istorijska ličnost, kraljev pobratim i rob, totem i božanstvo jednima, svirepi gospodar drugima, Fransisko Manoel da Silva proživljava ne samo svoj život nego i farsu jednog strašnog vremena".
Afrika prosto pršti sa stranica ovog kratkog romana kojeg kao da je Markes pisao. Tradicija magičnog realizma se toliko jako osjeća i u stilu i u načinu građenja priče, a povremeno ima i implicitinih omaža Markesu kao što je rečenica "Mnogo godina kasnie sjetiće se on kako je..." Uglavnom, knjiga je predivna, ako volite Markesa i Ruždija svidjeće vam se. Drago mi je da je konačno došla na red. Valjda tome i služe ovi kratki odmori.
"Siroče i siromah Fransisko Manoel izrastao je u jednog od onih sentimentalno okrutnih ljudi kakvima je obilovalo njegovo doba. Iz brazilskih zabiti stići će do obale Dahomeja, današnjeg Benina, u zapadnoj Africi i otpočeti trgovinu robljem. Istorijska ličnost, kraljev pobratim i rob, totem i božanstvo jednima, svirepi gospodar drugima, Fransisko Manoel da Silva proživljava ne samo svoj život nego i farsu jednog strašnog vremena".
Afrika prosto pršti sa stranica ovog kratkog romana kojeg kao da je Markes pisao. Tradicija magičnog realizma se toliko jako osjeća i u stilu i u načinu građenja priče, a povremeno ima i implicitinih omaža Markesu kao što je rečenica "Mnogo godina kasnie sjetiće se on kako je..." Uglavnom, knjiga je predivna, ako volite Markesa i Ruždija svidjeće vam se. Drago mi je da je konačno došla na red. Valjda tome i služe ovi kratki odmori.
November 11, 2008
A grim, but outstanding story on the evils of the slave trade, with a focus on the African coast. Chatwin crafts a story that is as psychologically probing as Conrad's Heart of Darkness (Kurtz), and as bizarre as Marquez's Autumn of the Patriarch (a mad African king, a city of skulls and heads, women warriors with filed teeth). The common ground for all three is moral corruption. However, I think the "horror" of Chatwin's vision, as opposed to Conrad's, is there seems to be no recognition of descent by Felix da Silva. Unlike Kurtz, da Silva is a poor man who knows hardship and brutality already. He simply gravitates toward opportunity (slave trade, early 1800s), and in time becomes an exceptional tool for the powers that be, back in Brazil. When slavery loses its appeal, da Silva is a man forgotten. I found Chatwin's introduction fascinating, since he originally was thinking about a piece of non-fiction, until bad things happened during a research trip to Benin. Apparently he'd seen enough. And he didn't want to go back. Fiction would be the platform for his story, and it's fiction of the first order.
June 3, 2019
An interesting way of telling of the slavery days of Dahomey, the mad violent King(s) and of the Portuguese trader who made and lost a fortune before dying, leaving a plethora of children to pine for what could have been.
The book contains plenty of savagery conducted by both the locals and the ambitious whites. It packs a lot of punch within its slim 100 pages.
The book contains plenty of savagery conducted by both the locals and the ambitious whites. It packs a lot of punch within its slim 100 pages.
September 19, 2008
A short novella absolutely packed to the gills with imagery and characters. I recognize elements from Marquez (including a definite Hundred Years of Solitude allusion) and Conrad and fans of them will find much to love here, but there is distinctive flavor that must be Chatwin’s alone. There is too much to even hint at in this book, and I guarantee some of the images will inform your dreams and fever visions. It makes sense that Herzog would film this.
Read
February 12, 2019You recognize a Bruce Chatwin sentence the moment you look at it, in the same way you recognize a painting by Dali or Gauguin the moment you look at it. Here, he goes technicolor, taking into account every sight and sound of the jungle as he takes on the slave trade on the West Coast of Africa, and shows just how deep the depravity of humanity goes, and the cold logic of capital that is willing to follow that depravity as far as possible... just up to the point where the profit motive is reversed.
March 14, 2012
Bruce Chatwin’s The Viceroy Of Ouidah masquerades as a small book. In 50,000 words or so, the author presents a fictionalised life that has been embroidered from truth. History, hyper-reality, the supernatural and the surreal and the cocktail that creates the heady mix through which strands of story filter. Overall the experience is much bigger than the slim book suggests.
We meet Francisco Manuel da Silva, a Brazilian born in the country’s north-east in the latter part of the eighteenth century. We learn a little of his background and then we follow him to Dahomey in West Africa, the modern Benin. He finds a place in society, consorts with kings, encounters amazons and conjoins with local culture. He also becomes a slave trader, making his considerable fortune by moving ship-loads of a cargo whose human identity is denied, as if it were merely the collateral damage of mercantilism. Francisco Manuel survives, prospers and procreates with abandon. He fathers a lineage of varied hue, a small army of males to keep the name alive and further complicate identity, and a near race of females who inherit the anonymity of their gender.
But The Viceroy of Ouidah is much more than a linear tale of a life. Bruce Chatwin’s vivid prose presents a multiplicity of minutiae, associations, conflicts and concordances. Each pithy paragraph could be a novel in itself if it were not so utterly poetic. A random example will suffice to give a flavour.
“Often the Brazilian captains had to wait weeks before the coast was clear but their host spared no expense to entertain them. His dining room was lit with a set of silver candelabra; behind each chair stood a serving girl, naked to the waist, with a white napkin folded on her arm. Sometimes a drunk would shout out, ‘What are these women?’ and Da Silva would glare down the table and say. ‘Our future murderers.’”
Within each vivid scene, we experience history, place, culture, and all the emotions, disappointments and achievements of imperfect lives. A jungle vibrates with untamed life around us. Treachery sours and threatens, while disease and passion alike claim their victims. It is a book to be savoured almost line by line. It provides an experience that is moving, technicoloured, but, like all lives, inevitably ephemeral. Like the outlawed trade that endowed riches, it eventually comes to nought, except of course for those who are inadvertently caught up in its net and whose lives were thus utterly changed if, indeed, they survived.
I read The Viceroy Of Ouidah without a bookmark, always starting a few pages before where I had previously left off. Each time, I read through several pages convinced that it was my first time to see them and then I would reach a particularly striking phrase and realise I had been there before. The extent of the detail and complexity of the images present a rain-forest of detail that is completely absorbing. The Viceroy Of Ouidah is thus surely a book worth reading several times.
We meet Francisco Manuel da Silva, a Brazilian born in the country’s north-east in the latter part of the eighteenth century. We learn a little of his background and then we follow him to Dahomey in West Africa, the modern Benin. He finds a place in society, consorts with kings, encounters amazons and conjoins with local culture. He also becomes a slave trader, making his considerable fortune by moving ship-loads of a cargo whose human identity is denied, as if it were merely the collateral damage of mercantilism. Francisco Manuel survives, prospers and procreates with abandon. He fathers a lineage of varied hue, a small army of males to keep the name alive and further complicate identity, and a near race of females who inherit the anonymity of their gender.
But The Viceroy of Ouidah is much more than a linear tale of a life. Bruce Chatwin’s vivid prose presents a multiplicity of minutiae, associations, conflicts and concordances. Each pithy paragraph could be a novel in itself if it were not so utterly poetic. A random example will suffice to give a flavour.
“Often the Brazilian captains had to wait weeks before the coast was clear but their host spared no expense to entertain them. His dining room was lit with a set of silver candelabra; behind each chair stood a serving girl, naked to the waist, with a white napkin folded on her arm. Sometimes a drunk would shout out, ‘What are these women?’ and Da Silva would glare down the table and say. ‘Our future murderers.’”
Within each vivid scene, we experience history, place, culture, and all the emotions, disappointments and achievements of imperfect lives. A jungle vibrates with untamed life around us. Treachery sours and threatens, while disease and passion alike claim their victims. It is a book to be savoured almost line by line. It provides an experience that is moving, technicoloured, but, like all lives, inevitably ephemeral. Like the outlawed trade that endowed riches, it eventually comes to nought, except of course for those who are inadvertently caught up in its net and whose lives were thus utterly changed if, indeed, they survived.
I read The Viceroy Of Ouidah without a bookmark, always starting a few pages before where I had previously left off. Each time, I read through several pages convinced that it was my first time to see them and then I would reach a particularly striking phrase and realise I had been there before. The extent of the detail and complexity of the images present a rain-forest of detail that is completely absorbing. The Viceroy Of Ouidah is thus surely a book worth reading several times.
October 15, 2017
As an aspiring travel writer who had yet to publish anything, I turned green with envy on reading Bruce Chatwin's novel. In terse, spare prose, he summons up images that seem drawn from photography or haiku rather than from ordinary literature. He presents distant times (late 18th and early 19th century) and places (Brazil and Dahomey) linking them seamlessly with the steamy, sordid present---the paranoid military dictatorship of Benin in the crumbling West African post-colonial 1970s. Every page is redolent of color, smell, sound, and imminent disaster: every scene appears like a bead in a necklace of decay, corruption, cruelty and disaster. There are no wasted moments, no lagging sections. A poor boy from the Brazilian backlands becomes a rich, powerful slave trader in West Africa, but his background betrays him at home, his connections in Africa ultimately do the same. His largely illegitimate family continues into the seedy Benin of the present. My only criticism of this work is that Chatwin chose to concentrate solely on the Brazilian side of things, leaving the Africans as part of the backdrop--more acted upon than actors. Dahomey was a fascinating society and besides the anthropological researches of M. Herskovits, one can read Frank Yerby's "The Dahomeyan", though Yerby's prose pales in comparison to Chatwin's. A far better book, one which focuses on the Dahomeyan connection to Brazil as well, is Judith Gleason's "Agõtime", a possible antidote to the slant taken by Chatwin. Otherwise, this book contains superlative writing on every page, writing redolent with human nature, the mysteries of the soul, and the mundane horrors of much of human history. "The Viceroy of Ouidah" has the power to open periods and locations for readers that have seldom featured in Anglo-American writing. It is a stunning book.
June 2, 2019
Βαθμολογία: 9/10
Στη βιβλιοθήκη μου έχω όλα τα βιβλία του Μπρους Τσάτουιν που έχουν μεταφραστεί στα ελληνικά (και, μάλιστα, όλα αγορασμένα είτε από παλαιοβιβλιοπωλεία είτε από παζάρια βιβλίου), αλλά το "Ο αντιβασιλέας της Ουίντα" αποτελεί μόλις την πρώτη μου επαφή με το έργο του. Για οχτώ χρόνια έπιανε σκόνη σε κάποιο ξεχασμένο ράφι, μέχρι που τελικά αποφάσισα να το διαβάσω, αν και παραλίγο να πιάσω το "Στην Παταγωνία". Όμως ήθελα να διαβάσω μυθιστόρημα.
Λοιπόν, δεν μπορώ παρά να δηλώσω (σχεδόν) απόλυτα μαγεμένος από το βιβλίο, τόσο από την ίδια την ιστορία, όσο κυρίως από τη χειμαρρώδη αφήγηση, τις λυρικές περιγραφές και τον ωμό ρεαλισμό, καθώς επίσης και την όλη ατμόσφαιρα σκληρού παραμυθιού και ιστορικής αφήγησης. Φανταστείτε τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες να έγραφε το "Η καρδιά του σκότους" του Τζόζεφ Κόνραντ, και έχετε μια πρώτη εικόνα από την ποιότητα και το ύφος που χαρακτηρίζει το βιβλίο του Τσάτουιν. Περίμενα ότι θα διαβάσω κάτι καλό, κάτι ενδιαφέρον και ιδιαίτερο, αλλά ειλικρινά δεν περίμενα ένα τέτοιο διαμαντάκι, ένα βιβλίο που θα με συγκλονίσει και θα με ταξιδέψει σε άλλους τόπους και άλλους χρόνους.
Μέσα σε τόσες λίγες σελίδες ο Τσάτουιν χώρεσε τόσες μα τόσες πολλές λεπτομέρειες, έφερε στην επιφάνεια το δουλεμπόριο και τα σκλαβοπάζαρα της Αφρικής και δημιούργησε κάποιους αξιοσημείωτους χαρακτήρες. Οι περιγραφές των τοπίων, των γεγονότων και των ανθρώπων είναι γλαφυρές, λυρικές και πραγματικά πανέμορφες, κατάφεραν με περισσή ευκολία να με μεταφέρουν σε μια άγνωστη χώρα και να με φέρει σε επαφή με μια εντελώς διαφορετική κουλτούρα. Πραγματικά, διαβάζοντας το βιβλίο αυτό νιώθω ότι ταξίδεψα στον χρόνο και τον χώρο, για λίγες ώρες αποκόπηκα τελείως από την πεζή πραγματικότητα. Και μπορώ να καταλάβω απόλυτα τον Βέρνερ Χέρτζογκ που δημιούργησε μια ταινία βασισμένη στο βιβλίο αυτό: Δεν μπορούσε παρά να μαγευτεί και αυτός από την ομορφιά του.
Στη βιβλιοθήκη μου έχω όλα τα βιβλία του Μπρους Τσάτουιν που έχουν μεταφραστεί στα ελληνικά (και, μάλιστα, όλα αγορασμένα είτε από παλαιοβιβλιοπωλεία είτε από παζάρια βιβλίου), αλλά το "Ο αντιβασιλέας της Ουίντα" αποτελεί μόλις την πρώτη μου επαφή με το έργο του. Για οχτώ χρόνια έπιανε σκόνη σε κάποιο ξεχασμένο ράφι, μέχρι που τελικά αποφάσισα να το διαβάσω, αν και παραλίγο να πιάσω το "Στην Παταγωνία". Όμως ήθελα να διαβάσω μυθιστόρημα.
Λοιπόν, δεν μπορώ παρά να δηλώσω (σχεδόν) απόλυτα μαγεμένος από το βιβλίο, τόσο από την ίδια την ιστορία, όσο κυρίως από τη χειμαρρώδη αφήγηση, τις λυρικές περιγραφές και τον ωμό ρεαλισμό, καθώς επίσης και την όλη ατμόσφαιρα σκληρού παραμυθιού και ιστορικής αφήγησης. Φανταστείτε τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες να έγραφε το "Η καρδιά του σκότους" του Τζόζεφ Κόνραντ, και έχετε μια πρώτη εικόνα από την ποιότητα και το ύφος που χαρακτηρίζει το βιβλίο του Τσάτουιν. Περίμενα ότι θα διαβάσω κάτι καλό, κάτι ενδιαφέρον και ιδιαίτερο, αλλά ειλικρινά δεν περίμενα ένα τέτοιο διαμαντάκι, ένα βιβλίο που θα με συγκλονίσει και θα με ταξιδέψει σε άλλους τόπους και άλλους χρόνους.
Μέσα σε τόσες λίγες σελίδες ο Τσάτουιν χώρεσε τόσες μα τόσες πολλές λεπτομέρειες, έφερε στην επιφάνεια το δουλεμπόριο και τα σκλαβοπάζαρα της Αφρικής και δημιούργησε κάποιους αξιοσημείωτους χαρακτήρες. Οι περιγραφές των τοπίων, των γεγονότων και των ανθρώπων είναι γλαφυρές, λυρικές και πραγματικά πανέμορφες, κατάφεραν με περισσή ευκολία να με μεταφέρουν σε μια άγνωστη χώρα και να με φέρει σε επαφή με μια εντελώς διαφορετική κουλτούρα. Πραγματικά, διαβάζοντας το βιβλίο αυτό νιώθω ότι ταξίδεψα στον χρόνο και τον χώρο, για λίγες ώρες αποκόπηκα τελείως από την πεζή πραγματικότητα. Και μπορώ να καταλάβω απόλυτα τον Βέρνερ Χέρτζογκ που δημιούργησε μια ταινία βασισμένη στο βιβλίο αυτό: Δεν μπορούσε παρά να μαγευτεί και αυτός από την ομορφιά του.
July 18, 2019
My first time reading Chatwin. For Christmas, my aunt and I were supposed to get each other some of our favorite books. She got me all of Chatwin's books! I can see why she likes him as a writer. His descriptions alone are worth the reading. He's evocative and poetic within such tight spaces:
Tis a dark tale of Francisco Manoel da Silva's unescapable spiral from job hopping in Brazil to running major slave trade in West Africa. Corruption, exploitation, lust, avarice. All the ingredients necessary to tell a bit of fictionalized human history.
ALL MANNER OF THINGS I SHOULD LOOK UP FROM THIS BOOK
seraglio | harmattan |omphalos | arums | cicatrices | bombazine | inanition | Holophernes | spahis | Onuphrius | St. Blaise | fetor | jalousies | Tower at Tapuitapera | loggia | jabots | Pergolesi's Stabat Mater | ciborium | chasuble | barquentine | corvee
He drifted round the City of All the Saints in a suicide's jacket of black velveteen bought off a tailor's dummy. Flapping laundry brushed across his face. Urchins kissed him on the lips as their fingers felt for his pockets. His feet slipped on rinds of rotting fruit, and puffy white clouds went sailing past the bell-towers.
Tis a dark tale of Francisco Manoel da Silva's unescapable spiral from job hopping in Brazil to running major slave trade in West Africa. Corruption, exploitation, lust, avarice. All the ingredients necessary to tell a bit of fictionalized human history.
ALL MANNER OF THINGS I SHOULD LOOK UP FROM THIS BOOK
seraglio | harmattan |omphalos | arums | cicatrices | bombazine | inanition | Holophernes | spahis | Onuphrius | St. Blaise | fetor | jalousies | Tower at Tapuitapera | loggia | jabots | Pergolesi's Stabat Mater | ciborium | chasuble | barquentine | corvee
September 16, 2019
Well regarded at the time (1980), Chatwin's fictional and short account of a slave-owning family's fortunes in nineteenth century Dahomey now appears as a dated and even a rather patronising account of the history of slavery and Africa.
It means well but Chatwin's style is cold and detached, luxuriating in words that require a dictionary to hand (although his prose is unforced and clear). There is a disconnect here between the facts and his desire to give us a history that might appeal to our sentiments.
It is both very English and very 'liberal', evading perhaps any sophistication in analysing the conditions that make people sociopathic and disregarding of others beyond the obvious implication that poverty hardens us.
There is also something unpleasant in the way he presents Africans at times, to the extent that, as the story precedes, one feels that he has been a bit of magpie in collecting colonialist, popular and sentimental liberal tropes in order to mash them up into a pleasing narrative.
The book was a quick and easy read but I was disappointed to find that I thought it clever but uninspiring and untrustworthy. I could not put my finger on what what was wrong until I realised that it lacked a 'soul', some sense of engagement with the subject matter.
November 30, 2019
Yanlış bir kitaba başladım ancak kendimi zorlayıp neyse ki bitirdim. Yazarın anlatımı biraz karışık. Çeviriden kaynaklanıyor da olabilir emin değilim ama çok fazla kopukluk var ve olay örgüsü tamamen karmaşaya teslim vaziyette. 2-3 defa okuyup hmm diye çözdüm kitabın 1/5 ini falan.
Okuması kolay olmasa da konusı ilgi çekici geldi esasen. Özellikle ana karakterimizin yıllar içerisinde bir pozitif bir negatif anlamda devamlı evrilmesi ve değişmesi çok hoşuma gitti. Bir yandan gerçek bir karakterin anlatılıyor olması da ayrı bir hoşluk katmış.
Brezilya-Afrika arasında gidip gelen bir hikâye. Enteresan bir konu, yoran bir anlatım, kısa bir kitap. Şans verseniz olur.
Okuması kolay olmasa da konusı ilgi çekici geldi esasen. Özellikle ana karakterimizin yıllar içerisinde bir pozitif bir negatif anlamda devamlı evrilmesi ve değişmesi çok hoşuma gitti. Bir yandan gerçek bir karakterin anlatılıyor olması da ayrı bir hoşluk katmış.
Brezilya-Afrika arasında gidip gelen bir hikâye. Enteresan bir konu, yoran bir anlatım, kısa bir kitap. Şans verseniz olur.
October 17, 2025
This is a short book (around 150 pages) but its heavy!!! It’s packed with heavy subjects: colonialism, racism, greed, clash of cultures… and its all about this guy who gets his fortune with trading slaves, gets greedy and looses it all. He wants to belong but never does.
The story of this book (the story of Francisco Manoel da Silva) is based on a real Brazilian guy.
Again, it’s a hard book to read, its super well written (the author shows you feelings, does not tell you feelings), its short, and its about an embarrassing time of history that still have repercussions today.
Vibes of Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
The story of this book (the story of Francisco Manoel da Silva) is based on a real Brazilian guy.
Again, it’s a hard book to read, its super well written (the author shows you feelings, does not tell you feelings), its short, and its about an embarrassing time of history that still have repercussions today.
Vibes of Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
September 9, 2018
not the best of Chatwin.
April 8, 2024
More Chatwinian Rococco prose bollix.
The thing you have to remember is that Chatwin, in the spirit of public schoolboys everywhere, likes to make and embellish a good yarn.
Some of the sentences had me gagging. Say what you mean. Mean what you say. And try and keep it simple.
The thing you have to remember is that Chatwin, in the spirit of public schoolboys everywhere, likes to make and embellish a good yarn.
Some of the sentences had me gagging. Say what you mean. Mean what you say. And try and keep it simple.
June 10, 2016
Again at the risk of appearing shallow, this novel was read in the hope that it would demystify some of the intriguing details of the Herzog film 'Cobra Verde.' It did not.
Indeed, it turns out that the film is a loose adaptation of the novel, which is in turn a loose adaptation of history. This is a pity because the true story of the 19th Century Brazilian slaver Francisco Felix de Sousa is yet another example of truth being far more interesting than fiction.
In fairness, Chatwin's fictional protagonist, Franciso da Silva, is a credible construction, an unpleasant man forged by unpleasant circumstances in an unpleasant environment. The problem with this is that, by the time he reaches the most adventurous phase of his life, the reader has long ceased to care what happens to him. Indeed, Chatwin seems to have a very negative view of humanity in general and, where other writers can find sympathy for flaws, Chatwin gives us a catalogue of disgust. Even when one has to have compassion for the suffering of some of the characters, one never comes close to liking any of them.
The best parts of the central biography are the compelling descriptions of Francisco's early years and his last, both of which evoke some of that compassion even for a truly appalling human being. However, the middle, potentially the most interesting phase, where he builds a slave-trading empire out of almost nothing, is by comparison perfunctory. We are told he befriends a King and then his heir, but we are not told how. There are brief descriptions of his organising abilities, but few details are given, which is a badly missed opportunity, because more on the mechanics of slave-trading and its effects might have let a bit more humanity into the book. Chatwin luxuriates in descriptions of wealth but is less interested in how the protagonist came by it. He seems at times to be a passive recipient of things falling into his lap.
This structural deficiency within the central biography is exacerbated by the fact that it begins only after not one but two prologues about Francisco's descendants, written in the wordy 'travel writer' style. Once it starts, the main story's spare early sections contrast favourably with what has gone before, but it is a struggle to get there, even in a very short book like this.
Indeed, it turns out that the film is a loose adaptation of the novel, which is in turn a loose adaptation of history. This is a pity because the true story of the 19th Century Brazilian slaver Francisco Felix de Sousa is yet another example of truth being far more interesting than fiction.
In fairness, Chatwin's fictional protagonist, Franciso da Silva, is a credible construction, an unpleasant man forged by unpleasant circumstances in an unpleasant environment. The problem with this is that, by the time he reaches the most adventurous phase of his life, the reader has long ceased to care what happens to him. Indeed, Chatwin seems to have a very negative view of humanity in general and, where other writers can find sympathy for flaws, Chatwin gives us a catalogue of disgust. Even when one has to have compassion for the suffering of some of the characters, one never comes close to liking any of them.
The best parts of the central biography are the compelling descriptions of Francisco's early years and his last, both of which evoke some of that compassion even for a truly appalling human being. However, the middle, potentially the most interesting phase, where he builds a slave-trading empire out of almost nothing, is by comparison perfunctory. We are told he befriends a King and then his heir, but we are not told how. There are brief descriptions of his organising abilities, but few details are given, which is a badly missed opportunity, because more on the mechanics of slave-trading and its effects might have let a bit more humanity into the book. Chatwin luxuriates in descriptions of wealth but is less interested in how the protagonist came by it. He seems at times to be a passive recipient of things falling into his lap.
This structural deficiency within the central biography is exacerbated by the fact that it begins only after not one but two prologues about Francisco's descendants, written in the wordy 'travel writer' style. Once it starts, the main story's spare early sections contrast favourably with what has gone before, but it is a struggle to get there, even in a very short book like this.
July 29, 2020
A crash course in how to write precisely and succinctly with a compact, fulfilling narrative arc.
A memorably disturbing account of a greedy, flawed, but driven individual.
There are scenes here that will make most readers feel uncomfortable.
Slavery is discussed at length but never glorified.
It’s shown to be what it is, wrong and lacking in human dignity and mercy.
Chatwin pulls off a magic trick and condenses multiple lifetimes into a little under a 100 pages
A memorably disturbing account of a greedy, flawed, but driven individual.
There are scenes here that will make most readers feel uncomfortable.
Slavery is discussed at length but never glorified.
It’s shown to be what it is, wrong and lacking in human dignity and mercy.
Chatwin pulls off a magic trick and condenses multiple lifetimes into a little under a 100 pages
May 9, 2009
A fascinating miniature: A generation-spanning saga compacted to 150 pages, with prose and imagery as lush as Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Brilliant but occasionally remote, it recounts the bloody and perverse true-life account of a Brazilian slaver in Africa during the 1800s. The basis for Werner Herzog's movie "Cobra Verde."
August 26, 2025
cool, 100 år av ensamhet möter things fall apart möter heart of darkness?
January 5, 2019
The blurb says this is “simply…dazzling”, “a masterpiece,” “deserves to become a classic,” and written “in prose that grabs you with its precision.”
I beg to disagree. This is badly-written. The strange characters, events, things and places here are offered to the reader like bullets furiously coming out of a machine-gun with no time for the reader to warm up to any of them. Like in a short paragraph you’ll have a new character which will disappear in the next and will never be seen again. This is a failed attempt at magical realism, sort of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez ouevre written after he had ingested cocaine and fentanyl. Quite a disappointment on my part since I liked the author’s On the Black Hill very much.
I beg to disagree. This is badly-written. The strange characters, events, things and places here are offered to the reader like bullets furiously coming out of a machine-gun with no time for the reader to warm up to any of them. Like in a short paragraph you’ll have a new character which will disappear in the next and will never be seen again. This is a failed attempt at magical realism, sort of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez ouevre written after he had ingested cocaine and fentanyl. Quite a disappointment on my part since I liked the author’s On the Black Hill very much.
March 18, 2015
This book was complex, hard to understand and grim. It wasn't what I had expected. I'm sure if I understood the language I would've had a better understanding. However, the parts I did understand were good. Francisco had a very diverse and interesting life encountering many strange and appalling characters. Some being his own children. It is a dense read at only 105 pages. I really had to focus. I think I will stop here as I just can't and won't do this book justice.
*sorry for the mumbo jumbo review
*sorry for the mumbo jumbo review
April 1, 2016
An interesting but dark read. It details the life of Francisco da Silva who eventually ends up as a slaver in Ouidah in Africa. He is not a likeable man by any means but his life was, in many ways, just as tough as the people he traded. The story is told in a disjointed fashion which takes away from it a little. I think a chronological telling would have worked better. This was a strange book in that there was no characters to like. Da Silva is cruel and unlikeable, the local kings are savage and brutal and the Brazilian are cut throat with loyalty to none but themselves.
June 29, 2017
Pretty decent novella. Originally intended to be a non-fiction biography of a famous slave trader. The author felt he hadn't managed to get hold of enough facts so changed a couple of names and published it as fiction.
A very rich and vivid descriptive style. But its still essentially a biography an i'm not a big fan of bio's.
Many books are more fun to 'have read' than 'to be reading' this is the opposite. Fun to read due to the style but didn't feel like i took away too much from the experience. Also quite short.
A very rich and vivid descriptive style. But its still essentially a biography an i'm not a big fan of bio's.
Many books are more fun to 'have read' than 'to be reading' this is the opposite. Fun to read due to the style but didn't feel like i took away too much from the experience. Also quite short.
January 5, 2014
Brutal, cruel and fantastic book. Bruce's skills to express complete tragicomedy of dom Francisco's life (as well as the lives of his family and the people with whom he came in contact) with short, clear, journalistic sentences is just breathtaking. It is a small book in size but layered with information, characters, psychological profiles and all the absurdity, oddity and wretchedness of slave trade, war, culture and life in Africa.
February 9, 2023
Read around the world project - Benin
Manages to be both dull and confusing at the same time. The writing feels... cold? detached? and very colonist
Manages to be both dull and confusing at the same time. The writing feels... cold? detached? and very colonist
July 18, 2025
Se leggi prima Le vie dei canti poi Utz e conosci Chatwin puoi ben capire il mio imbarazzo nell'arrivare a Il viceré di Ouidah con questo percorso a balzelloni. Sembra quasi il libro di un altro! Però mi è piaciuto. Piaciuto diversamente dagli altri due, ma il giudizio è comunque positivo. È il classico romanzo in cui quando arrivi in fondo devi obbligatoriamente riprendere dall'inizio, non per forza rileggere tutto, ma devi collegare. Non puoi farne a meno! Ma quindi Eugenia è Mama Wéwé? Lo devi scoprire... E questo effetto è una palese testimonianza che il libro ti è piaciuto. Storia che ti porterà alle due sponde del sud Atlantico, piena di atrocità e di situazioni estreme.
Chissà se Emmanuel Carrère sapeva che il suo Limonov era all'incirca Il viceré di Ouidah Francisco Manoel da Silva narrato da Bruce Chatwin, traslato in Russia trent'anni dopo?
Chissà se Emmanuel Carrère sapeva che il suo Limonov era all'incirca Il viceré di Ouidah Francisco Manoel da Silva narrato da Bruce Chatwin, traslato in Russia trent'anni dopo?
January 9, 2025
This is a historical novel about a Brazilian who becomes a slave trader in Ouidah (in present-day Benin) during the 19th century, right after slavery was officially abolished. It reminded me of J. Conrad, but overall, the story was a bit confusing for me.
November 22, 2020
izlenmesi zor anlatım biçimi, ilginç öykü
Displaying 1 - 30 of 151 reviews