An extraordinary novel of loyalty, strife, and empowerment from Peabody Award-winning Cameroonian filmmaker Osvalde Lewat.
In the fictional African country of Zambuena, Katmé Abbia enjoys a life of privilege and influence married to Tashun, the powerful prefect of Zambuena's capital. Yet after years spent playing the obedient, demure wife to a husband who has ceased to notice her, Katmé grows increasingly restless. Her one source of connection is Samy, a childhood friend, struggling artist, and gay man—an offense punishable by law in Zambuena. When Katmé discovers that Samy’s new exhibition, funded by herself and Tashun, boldly critiques Zambuena's social and economic inequities, her public, married life is set on a collision course with her one true friendship. As social pressures and political rivals sow life-threatening consequences, Katmé faces an agonizing choice: abandon her friend or destroy her family.
Mixing compassion with clear-eyed fury and a keen sense of the absurd, The Aquatics confronts one of contemporary Africa’s most entrenched societal issues in a story as immersive and inevitable as a quickly rising tide.
3.75. Married to an up and coming politician, Katmé’s life, from the outside at least, appears to be cushy and comfortable. But her marriage is loveless and abusive and she has no interest in the wealthy society women that surround her. Samy, her childhood friend, is the only one she can truly trust and confide in. Despite the illegal nature of his sexuality in this fictional African country (a thinly veiled Cameroon), Katmé’s husband turns a blind eye to her supporting Samy financially and in his artistic endeavors. When political rivals of her husband publicly expose Samy for being gay in an effort to sabotage his upcoming campaign, Samy is hastily arrested and all “support” from her husband ends then and there. Katme must choose between her life of privilege or face the very real consequences that come with staying loyal to her dearest friend.
Lewat does not hold back in her display of the pervasive and unrelenting violence found in this homophobic and patriarchal society. I’m not one to give content warnings, I trust readers to seek that out on their own but I do want to note it here because there is one scene that was particularly graphic in the severity of the violence and the depths of such hatred was hard to stomach.
Lewat has crafted a compelling story about the illusions of democracy and justice in a country where the dead are honored and cherished more than the living and where being gay is considered a crime worthy of life imprisonment. I’ll agree with the Kirkus review that the book can be a little heavy-handed and the dialogue occasionally strains credulity, but Lackner’s work here is admirable.
The Aquatics is devastating in its realism and its bold reminder that the most basic of human rights are still just a pipe dream for too many people in our modern world.
At the outset, I found it hard to stick with this book and considered DNF'ing it. The writing style was not my favourite and frankly, I found the story a bit dramatic. I'm glad I kept at it, though, because the wonder of this book reveals itself as you read. And it's dramatic for a reason! Lewat tackles a lot in this novel - expectations of women in society, identity and being true to oneself, homophobia, nation vs self, the list goes on.
One of those themes is specifically the role of women in a traditional society and how a woman can redefine herself in the presence (or even absence) of liberal influences. What I loved, though, was how Lewat presented the question to the reader, of if a woman even SHOULD redefine herself in that circumstance. While Lewat's view on the question is clear, she guides the reader through the benefits and ugliness of both ways of life (eg. Aleksandre or Keuna's life vs Djama's). How you decide to live your life is never a black and white decision, and the benefits you gain may only come in exchange for a lot of pain. A quote that stood out to me - "Unhappy couples often hide behind children when they aren't brave enough to live bigger lives."
I loved how the novel discussed genuineness and living a life true to you. As I get older, this has been the most unexpected dilemma I've faced! In my youth, I think I lived a life that was very true to me, but perhaps like Katmé, as you get older, society's expectations and enticements become unavoidable. Obviously, we see Katmé struggle with this throughout the novel. What I found interesting, though, was how her inability to be true to herself fueled her selfishness. Katmé seemed to find it challenging to treat herself with empathy and humanity, in fact, I find that Samy was the one treating her with that kindness, as she was unable or refused to. So when Katmé is apart from Samy, things fall apart because she no longer gets to be human in that way. She says of Alexandre "Maybe you can scratch a heart like that, maybe even crumple it if you try hard enough, but break it? A heart like that doesn't break" Because Katmé refuses to show herself empathy, and Samy cannot, those in her life get the same treatment. She realizes, at the end, that she may have even been unable to show this grace to Samy - "would I ask him to keep hiding it to spare the rest of us?"
I found the novel's depictions of homophobia and assault quite graphic and upsetting. However, I think it was important for Lewat to do this. I'm not sure what the demographic of readers are, but I noticed the original version was published in France, and I'm reading this in North America. Living in the west, it's easy to forget that homophobia is something still experienced in many countries throughout the world, and it's frequently something that puts you at risk of sexual assault, torture, even death. Asylum may be an option for these individuals, but Lewat presents this route in such a nuanced way - yes asylum presents the opportunity for a life free from homophobia, but at the cost of leaving your home, family, another identity. "Living life as a sellout; not that you could call a series of compromises a life."
I wish I could've read this in French! A great read regardless.
4.2! I don’t even know where to start because all my reactions are so somatic and onomatopoeic that it’s difficult to write a few notes down on this format.
First, I started this not liking Katmé much and I thought she was annoying but built in a way that would allow character growth. As I was still contemplating how Katmé wasn’t hitting it for me, I soon realized this was going to be the least of my worries. The novel soon moved dramatically and swiftly into the territory of very real issues and maintained that pace for so much of the novel that I rarely had time to sit and think about whether to like a character or not.
Lewat writing is raw, graphic and to the point. She does not mince words nor hold back any punches, delivering every scene to you in a very categorical manner. It was distressing and saddening - even more so because her descriptions of the real conditions of homophobia, discrimination, and other issues she covered aren’t just fictional. These are real issues of our times and were literally unfolding in Burkina Faso, Senegal and many other countries on the continent as I was reading it. Lewat had a goal about the issues she wanted to highlight and I think she did a stellar job on getting the complexity of it all transmitted.
Katmé was such a befuddling character and a very interesting choice of protagonist. So unexpected but I found that I was able to be surprisingly centered in the story because of her. I liked that as a protagonist, she could express very pointed judgements on others but could not do the same for herself. She was like a mirror reflecting the society around her but failing to see itself in relation to everything around it. Although her path could be said to be predictable at times given the refrain of her selfishness, she surprised us more than once (both in good and bad ways). She also randomly funny and sometimes managed to remove me from the funk of the entire narrative with a very hilarious but apt take. For example, her line about sounds and hearing “a heifer low, a sow squeal, and a camel cow grunt” really sent me.
So much to unpack thematically that I could go on for days. I’ll add them here later when I come back to this review. Writing-wise, I have to remark that I loved the translation so much but wish the proofreading was done with a little more care. A few punctuations, especially commas and em-dashes, if better placed, they’d have improved the ease of comprehension of so many a sentence.
Very minor too but chiggers and jiggers are different parasites and it was grating every time chiggers was used to mean jiggers, the flea that burrows that was clearly being described. This may have been lost in the translation but wished they’d correct it if released in any other editions.
I would highly recommend this for the timeliness of it release and warn of the very many unwarned but necessary triggers peppering the pages. “We are all aquatics” to quote the author.
Fantastique. D'une écriture incisif, mordante Osvalde Lewat nous brosse le portrait d'une femme d'un milieu aisé qui va voir sa vie bousculé, chamboulé de toute part. Bouleversant, intelligent et drôle!
This would have been closer to 3 stars about 5 hours ago. The first half did not manage to convince me, but the second half I was spellbound and sped through in one sitting. It's a heavy fucking read, especially that second half. But that was the point.
This would have been closer to 3 stars about 5 hours ago. The first half did not manage to convince me, but the second half I was spellbound and sped through in one sitting. It's a heavy fucking read, especially that second half. But that was the point.
The Publisher Says: An extraordinary novel of loyalty, strife, and empowerment from Peabody Award-winning Cameroonian filmmaker Osvalde Lewat.
In the fictional African country of Zambuena, Katmé Abbia enjoys a life of privilege and influence married to Tashun, the powerful prefect of Zambuena's capital. Yet after years spent playing the obedient, demure wife to a husband who has ceased to notice her, Katmé grows increasingly restless. Her one source of connection is Samy, a childhood friend, struggling artist, and gay man—an offense punishable by law in Zambuena. When Katmé discovers that Samy’s new exhibition, funded by herself and Tashun, boldly critiques Zambuena's social and economic inequities, her public, married life is set on a collision course with her one true friendship. As social pressures and political rivals sow life-threatening consequences, Katmé faces an agonizing choice: abandon her friend or destroy her family.
Mixing compassion with clear-eyed fury and a keen sense of the absurd, The Aquatics confronts one of contemporary Africa’s most entrenched societal issues in a story as immersive and inevitable as a quickly rising tide.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.
My Review: Misogyny, homophobia, and christian fundamentalism all travel in one ugly pack, like the social hyenas they are. Cruelly tormenting those they Other while standing in staunch defense of "their own"...so long as those under their control do not act up, resist, or question the leadership's order.
Katmé is that one inside the pack's protection...until she isn't. Her ephemeral status as an insider comes to an end when her true friend, only friend, queer artist Samy attracts her husband's political enemies' attention. She's accustomed to the misogyny, the indifference, even the beatings, as a price to be paid for her "comfortable" lifestyle. In a country viewed internationally as poor in service of its people's rights...read the wiki article, this is only barely a novel...it's not in the least surprising that Katmé is placed in the horrifying position she is. Her life is in danger if she continues to support Samy, her queer friend...his life is in danger because he refuses to accept being second-class, not good enough...and the culture's overlords are fighting over political crap having nothing to do with Samy or Katmé, but they pay the price. I'm reminded of the proverb "when elephants fight, the grass suffers," as an apt summation of this novel's central conceit.
The content warnings are serious, please heed them. Domestic violence is sadly not uncommon anywhere. It is just part of the landscape in Author Lewat's story. I was appalled at the casual tone of the prison rape Samy endures, at the beatings Katmé receives from her husband, from the pervasive sense that none of this would raise a single Cameroonian eyebrow. (Yes, we're calling it by a made-up name, but no one's fooled. It's like Peyton Placewas in the 1950s, a figleaf meant to make reprisals an admission of guilt.) This is a tough novel, meant to be hard to swallow, even hard to chew. It does a great service, one fiction might be the only thing that can do it, of showing Society its own ass in a mirror of gigantic proportions.
The lives of these characters, these people, are appalling. They are a shriek of outrage that the world just looks away; they are a warning lest others succumb to the easeful abdication of morality to those who know nothing of it.
A novel that arrives as a bitter gift in time for all the religious holidays.
Fundamentalism, institutional and societal misogyny, homophobia, political corruption, abusive relationships, loss of parents, and more influence this whirlwind of a novel, which follows Katmé, wife of the rising star in the fictional country of Zambuena’s ruling party. Her best friend, Samuel, a gay artist whose work is overtly political and whose sexuality becomes fodder for her husband’s political enemies, while she gets stuck in the middle of two worlds. She siphons off what she can from her husband’s considerable resources to help her friend, while withstanding abuse from her husband and harsh critique from her elite entourage. Not only can Katmé not alleviate Samuel’s suffering in prison or calm the nationwide smear campaign, her being married to the prefect of the capital city is actually costing her beloved Samy his freedom.
Haunted by the death of her mother twenty years ago, by her husband’s threats and violence, by her best friend’s imprisonment, by the specter of being a divorcee and social outcast or losing custody of her children, each struggle she grapples with in the novel shows a new facet of Katmé’s character. Both her and Samuel’s personal development is revealed through many microscopic observations, despite serving as a microcosm for some of the biggest, most complicated issues in Africa today.
Not every well-written story with characters real enough to walk off the page and plot lines as intricate as gossamer webs also feels this monumental. One of the many subjects at hand is literally life-and-death for many queer people across the world, and the fact that this story takes place in a fictional country doesn’t undermine its depth.
The Aquatics is a book that crept up on me. I initially requested it because it ticked off another country on my list in my challenge to read a book written by an author born in every country in the world. Save for that I might not have picked it up based solely on the blurb, so when I started reading, I did so without many expectations. However, by the midway point I had become invested in the characters and their situations, and that interest remained until the end. The book explored themes such as discrimination, societal hierarchy and values and family dynamics, and it did so in a way I found honest and open. This is a book I would recommend to fans of contemporary fiction that portrays social issues while also telling an engaging story. I am giving it four stars.
I received this book as a free eBook ARC via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.
It is rare that a book hits me so hard I have to take a break and breathe. I had to pause at several points while reading just to collect myself. The author does a brilliant job of creating characters and relationships that matter to the reader. The book starts at a slow burn yet somehow creates an investment and anxiety that snuck up on me and overwhelmed me. There is sharp commentary on convenience, silence, and complicity. Especially powerful were the messages around the messages implicitly delivered to children and how our examples can lead to beauty and strength or cruel tragedy. This is not an easy read, but an important reminder of our social responsibilities. our commitment to our friends and our obligation to be courageously true to ourselves.
This novel by Cameroonian filmmaker Osvalde Lewat, translated from the French by Maren Baudet-Lackner, is lush, courageous, and disturbing. The protagonist, who is both highly sensitive and willfully blind, is richly rendered in all her contradictions, using alternately the first and third person. Set in a fictional African country, Lewat’s fast-paced novel confronts several political issues that are urgently contentious around the globe, including the vandalism of art, the political strategy of crushing individual resistance by reducing dissenters to sex objects, and the status quo’s egregious tendency to encourage a person’s demographic categorizations to overshadow their accomplishments. I’m grateful to Coffee House Press for sharing a digital ARC with me.
The Aquatics is an exploration of the genuine human story of a woman ostensibly in the prime of her life being forced to face the limitations of her worldview (particularly how it puts blinders on her perceptions of others) and the ways in which she's compromised her own happiness in the name of security. This is not an easy read, neither for the brutal violence enacted on a whim nor the casual manner in which it's accepted by everyday citizens, but it is a compelling one. There seems to be no happy ending possible, and the protagonist is left without any tangible resolution...but just enough hope that things can turn around, for both herself and society at large.
Set in a fictional country of Zambuena, this book could've taken place in any country on the African continent, grappling with corruption, economic disparities and vulnerable scapegoats.
This book initially feels like it will be a light-hearted read following the trivial lives of the elite, and very quickly, we see how even those who seem to have it all are not free.
An important read that explores disparities, mob mentality and how women remain trapped, even the wealthy.
If you enjoyed These Letters Will End in Tears, you will love this one.
El libro prometía cuando lo empecé. Varios temas, política, homosexualidad, empoderamiento de la mujer… Pero poco a poco se va haciendo bola y resulta a veces aburrido. No está muy logrado, aunque es interesante. Un país ficticio, supuestamente Camerún. La mujer de un político prometedor que lo ha dejado todo para dedicarse al cuidado de la casa y las hijas. Un amigo artista. Los entresijos de la política. El aparentar de las mujeres y el dejar todo al final para ser ella misma.
This isn't my traditional genre, but it's one of those books that really stays on your mind long after you finish. Especially Samy's story. It's heavy and it's real and it's hard---as is life. Like some people mention, the first part is slower and at times it is hard to understand Katmé as a protagonist. But I really enjoyed the second and third parts, even if the raw imagery of it all made be cry for a good five minutes, the next ten minutes being thoughtful silence. Really great read!
4.5*. Beautiful, insightful writing. Clever details, esp. a brief comment about Greenland sharks. 😄 Maybe a few too many characters - I lost track of them in the middle. I also struggled with the graphic description of violence, but that is realistic as well, so I can't turn away from it...just noting to remind myself in case of re-reading or recommending this book to others
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The generally economical writing in this book is used to set up a powerful parallel in the plot. While it sometimes feels like it takes on too many issues, and definitely one or two subplots seemed unnecessary, overall the book makes its points in an affecting way and beautifully depicts the main character's friendship.
fantastic novel with some incredible plotting. the wife of a provincial leader's only true connection is her childhood friend, who is gay. in the country, it's illegal to be gay. when everything collides it becomes an intense and effective plot. 5 stars. tysm for the arc.