เปาลีนา ซีซีอาน เจ้าของรางวัลเกียรติยศทางวรรณกรรม ได้แก่ The José Craveirinha Literature Prize ประจำปี ค.ศ. 2003 และ The Camões Prize ประจำปี ค.ศ. 2021
Paulina "Poulli" Chiziane (born 4 June 1955, Manjacaze, southern province of Gaza, Mozambique) is an author of novels and short stories in the Portuguese language. She studied at Eduardo Mondlane University, Maputo. She was born to a Protestant family that moved from Gaza to the capital Maputo (then Lourenço Marques) during the writer's early childhood. At home she spoke Chopi and Ronga. Chiziane was the first woman in Mozambique to publish a novel. Her writing has generated some polemical discussions about social issues, such as the practice of polygamy in the country. For example, her first novel, Balada do Amor ao Vento (1990), discusses polygamy in southern Mozambique during the colonial period. Related to her active involvement in the politics of Frelimo (Liberation Front of Mozambique), her narrative often reflects the social uneasiness of a country ravaged and divided by the war of liberation and the civil conflicts that followed independence. Her novel "Niketche: Uma História de Poligamia" won the José Craveirinha Prize in 2003.
I loved reading this book. It delighted me over and over again for its brash heroine who, even though she finds herself in a loveless marriage, and even though her entire family tells her that what she has is all she deserves, refuses to believe it. She then goes about making her life better, all on her own, following a path that is joyful, funny, bawdy, women-centered, and in every way satisfying to me as a reader.
This is a feminist book in all the best ways. Of course one of the core questions of feminism as a philosophy is how culturally inclusive it can be, before it devolves into just another kind of cultural oppression where western white women are telling everyone else what to think about themselves. It's important to honor differences in sexuality, gender identity, race, class, nationality, and religion. So as I read, I didn't want to assume I understood more than I do.
And indeed there were a lot of cultural differences that divided me from the lived experience of the protagonist as described here. Some the cultural practices are so unique that they aren't translated--for example, there is no word in my language for "the right of a dead man's brother to have sex with his widow." I have very little idea, much less experience, with what it would be like to live in a culture where men have such absolute power over women as they do in this novel--so much power that there is a running trope through this novel where any woman who eats the best part of a chicken instead of feeding it to her man is punished in some absurdly excessive way, usually involving death.
Chiziane over and over again points out the absurdity of these repressive and misogynistic cultural practices, in ways that are light-hearted and farcical and that are also disarming. Chiziane allows Rami, her protagonist, to confront these practices, point out their selfish contradictions, and to disarm them, one by one. Rami is my latest hero, for the way she takes on the bad guys fearlessly, and for the way, in spite of all odds being against her, she wins in the end.
Vencedora do Prêmio Camões em 2021, um dos prêmios mais importantes da literatura em língua portuguesa, a autora moçambicana vem ganhando maior destaque no Brasil nos últimos meses. Um reconhecimento merecidíssimo que, se não fosse pelos obstáculos que a literatura de países do continente africano encontra no Brasil, já existiria há mais tempo.
Vale dizer que em seu país, o trabalho da autora tem um papel histórico: Paulina foi a primeira mulher moçambicana a publicar um romance. No caso de Niketche, o livro transborda cultura e tradições moçambicanas. A narrativa tem como personagem central Rami, uma mulher casada há duas décadas e que descobre que Tony, seu marido, tem uma amante. Isso, por si só, já gera uma tristeza avassaladora na personagem, que sente todo o seu esforço de exercer o papel de boa esposa sendo desprezado. Mas, para a infelicidade de Rami, a descoberta da amante é só o começo.
Iniciando um processo de confronto e busca de explicações do marido, a esposa oficial acaba se deparando com mais mulheres que também compartilham as migalhas de afeto e de recursos distribuídas por Tony. São mulheres com histórias distintas, mas que se conectam pelos laços criados por uma sociedade machista e patriarcal.
No entanto, aos poucos, o que poderiam ser motivos de desavenças entre as mulheres, acabam despertando força e coragem para tentar mudar sua posição de submissão e de eterna culpadas.
Gostei muito da história criada por Chiziane e da forma como ela revela os conflitos sociais e culturais existentes dentro de um mesmo país. São tradições que variam de acordo com cada região e que criam um país diverso e ainda em busca de uma maior identidade nacional.
Em alguns momentos senti que a narrativa se tornou um pouco repetitiva, mas acredito que essa sensação pode até sido criada de forma intencional pela autora, já que a repetição é um reflexo do psicológico de Rami, que fica remoendo a revolta, a tristeza e todos os questionamentos sobre a nova realidade de um relacionamento poligâmico.
A melhor crítica que se pode fazer a este livro é recomendar a sua leitura! Pela história, pela personagem principal, pelo conhecimento que nos dá de Moçambique. Antes de mais, convém saber que Niketche é "uma dança do amor, que as raparigas recém-iniciadas executam aos olhos do mundo, para afirmar: somos mulheres. Maduras como frutas. Estamos prontas para a vida!" Mas nem todas foram iniciadas e nem todas estão prontas. Rami não estava. Rami, que aqui narra a sua história, é a primeira mulher de um polígamo orgulhoso, o seu tão amado Tony. Nem sempre o soube. Ao descobri-lo, irá lidar com as suas "rivais", com o seu marido, com a sua família e com as tradições do seu país de diferentes maneiras, refletindo o peso da educação e a pressão da sociedade, por um lado, e o desejo de ser respeitada e amada, a solidariedade feminina e a vontade de se vingar, por outro lado. "Para as mulheres o eterno conselho é: segura, fecha, cobre, esconde. Para os homens é: larga, voa, abre, mostra — pode alguém compreender as contradições deste mundo?" É extraordinária a forma como Rami "cresce" ao longo do livro, reunindo as muitas questões e respostas que a poligamia levanta numa sociedade que a aceita e incentiva: Devo lutar pelo homem que amo? De quem é a culpa? Se não posso vencer, junto-me a eles? Consigo amar um homem que não me ama em exclusividade? Faço o mesmo ou algo parecido? O que valem as relações amorosas? Servem para quê? "Penso naquilo que tenho. Nada, absolutamente nada. Tenho um amor não correspondido. Tenho a dor e a saudade de um marido sempre ausente." É igualmente extraordinária a quantidade de coisas que a autora nos dá a conhecer sobre o seu país, no que toca ao casamento e ao papel da mulher, com as notáveis diferenças e embates entre Norte e Sul, isto é, entre xingondos e machanganas. "— Vão à fava, seus xingondos com as vossas mulheres preguiçosas. Passam a vida a pintar-se. A pentear-se. E vocês, escravos delas, sempre a suportar caprichos dessas mulheres, sempre a comprar ouro, panos, roupas novas. Vocês não são nada. Vocês não têm poder nenhum e nem mandam na vossa própria casa." Surpreendeu-me o horror supersticioso dos homens face à nudez feminina, tida como mais um truque de feitiçaria capaz de desencadear as piores pragas. "Ver uma mulher nua antes do grande combate significa derrota e morte." E o que dizer do execrável costume pelo qual a mulher, depois de viúva, é "tchingada", entregue "numa bandeja" a um familiar do falecido (no caso, a um irmão)? "Meu coração bate de surpresa infinda. Kutchinga! Eu serei tchingada por qualquer um. (...) Incesto? Incesto não, apenas levirato. Incesto só há quando corre o mesmo sangue nas veias." Alguns poderão não concordar com as escolhas de Rami. Mas não é disso que se trata. Trata-se de nos colocarmos no lugar de mulheres nascidas no nosso tempo, mas noutra geografia, noutra sociedade, e perceber os seus dilemas, as suas inquietações e as suas escolhas, se é que estás existem. "— Não és a Rami. Tu és o monstro que a sociedade construiu." Recomendo muito!
A sharp-edged critique of polygamy and the subjugation of women in Mozambique. The focus of this whirlwind tongue-in-cheek morality tale is Rami, who wages a war against her husband's womanizing. Although I appreciate the message in this book, the over-the-top slapstick comedy became tedious.
Tentei ler “Niketche” sem etnocentrismo, com a perfeita noção de se tratar de um livro sobre mulheres de uma cultura diferente da minha, sobretudo porque queria finalmente estrear-me com esta autora, mas foi uma tarefa inglória. Pensei que ia acompanhar o sofrimento de Rami quando percebesse que o marido tinha uma vida paralela, a forma como ela reagiria e tentaria dar a volta à situação, só que a falta de vergonha na cara do dito cujo é realmente intolerável e as reacções de Rami passam pela autorrecriminação, cenas de pancadaria com as outras mulheres e a procura de feitiços. Não, não há espírito aberto que aguente.
A raw and intimate look at polygamy, written by Mozambique's first published woman (a fact that still has me blinking in disbelief).
What a unique reading experience this was. I definitely felt culture shock, and soon realized this book was not written for a Western audience. The culture shock was in response to both content and style, which made for both an interesting and challenging read. It is amazing that this was written and set in current day and not hundreds of years ago. The place of women in this part of Africa is still subservient and dismissed. She accepts any treatment from her husband, what is she without him? It is her fault if he strays, she didn't work hard enough to keep and entice him. She seemingly has no control over her life.
The story, which revolves around Rami and her experience of discovering her husband had secretly been keeping 4 other wives and a swarm of children, is fascinating, and shows that slowly, the scales are tipping. What I found difficult is that this book has a LOT of exposition, like a speech. Some action happens in the story, then Rami reflects. Polygamy is this, polygamy is that... and lots of rhetorical questions. I found myself wishing she would say all this through the story rather than using a lecturing style. I found myself wanting to skim past some of these parts because there was a lot of repetition of ideas. However, imposing my Western expectations on every book I read is pretty limiting, and unfair.
This is a brave and brutally honest telling. Was it easy to read? Not necessarily. But definitely worth reading.
A free copy of this book was given to me via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you Archepelago Books!
In my year-long project of trying to finish reading a book from every country, I took the time to revisit Mozambique. I could not resist after a few friends rated this one so highly, and even moreso when I discovered that this is the FIRST female author to be published from Mozambique. Most of the time you see Mia Couto, who often has women as background only.
What a mistake not to feature the women, as Chiziane demonstrates! Rami, the titled First Wife, thought she was the ONLY wife of her husband Tony. She discovers a host of women he has been involved with, has had children with, and soon understands why he is frequently gone or too tired to be with her. Shenanigans follow, which really are a lot of fun.
But the point of the novel is much deeper than that. Chiziane shows women treating each other with physical violence and social isolation. She outlines how the family of the husband has the upper hand, backing up expectations that the woman serves the man ON HER KNEES and only eating his scraps. She demonstrates the cultural stereotypes of women from "the North" vs. "the South," much of it having to do with sexual education and different definitions of beauty. I laughed at how Chiziane referred to sex and sexual organs until I realized it was reflective of how the women in the culture are able to talk of them. There is the stomach, the brain, and you know, that other thing, maybe the most important thing.
Underlying all of this - the story and the well-crafted interplay of these social truths about Mozambique - is a severe critique of women being treated as property. It isn't polygamy itself that is the villain in this story, but a society that allows for one-sided polygamy as a result of the women-as-property assumption.
The style of writing in the novel feels like an oral tradition. There are repeated phrases, metaphors, similes - often in patterns. I could hear it in my mind the way a mother might pass on the words to her daughter, to prepare her, to warn her. Rami experiences this from her mother, sometimes too late.
"Whether a wife or a lover, a woman is a shirt that a man wears and then takes off. She's a paper handkerchief that gets torn and can't be mended. She's a shoe that comes unstuck and ends up in the trash."
"Polygamy is a fishing net that has been cast into the sea...Polygamy is a solitary howl under the full moon...."
"That's exactly what polygamous love is about. To have a man in your arms while he years for another. You wash the gentleman, darn his socks and underpants, polish the heels of his shoes, pamper him, make him smell nice, so that he can look good in front of other women. Loving a polygamist is to chew pain by way of nourishment, to fill your belly by swallowing your saliva. Loving a polygamist is an endless wait. Endless despair."
I am so excited about the new line of translated novels Archipelago Press is bringing into the world. I was happy to read this one. HOWEVER it really feels most like a call to solidarity, to action, to power for the women in Mozambique. Chiziane eloquently describes the strength of the women in her community. "I think all women should unite with each other against the tyranny of men."
Amen.
Thanks to the publisher who provided a review copy through NetGalley. I have already ordered other books in this recent cluster for my library!
“While they (men) learn to write the word life on the map of the world, we go out in the early morning, following our mothers, to scare the birds away from our plantations of rice.”
An intimate story of the ugly plight of women in a post-colonial culture that consciously kept the bits of pre-colonial tradition that benefit those in power, rich over poor, strong over weak - but mostly men over women.
Rami is a brilliant, loving self-described “good girl” who was married young to a man she still loves, (Tony) who became a success as police chief. Tony is also a successful philanderer who, despite being officially ‘Catholic’ sees nothing wrong with supporting at least 4 other women and the panoply of children he has created with them.
This is Rami’s beautifully written feminist awakening, well, given that she “officially” follows the ridiculous rules of this culture to the end, i found myself frustrated with the inconsistency between the depth of knowledge she is sharing as the first person story teller- and the continued compliance with the cruel misogynist rules, which include gross self-abnegation, abasement, degradation - which became more irritating to me as i became more fond of her with each page!
The patterns and practices of oppression, perhaps finely tuned by their experience with the horrible colonial Portuguese, are ever present. Convince the oppressed group that they don’t want to have anything to do with each other (divide and conquer). When women overcome this, see through this, their resultant sisterhood can be a powerful weapon against those who would limit, and as a source of joy, playfulness and strength. Rami, with theoretically the most to lose, makes this happen.
Much poetic, magical (the kind of magic found so richly there) writing about what is - and what could be, with a complicated plot and gratifying conclusion. The lives of women in much (most) of Africa are so different from Western women that they seem impossibly iniquitous. But they really are lived that way, and men smirk and say “it’s our culture” as they do nothing (personal experience).
There is so little translated work like this that really explores the emotional pain of women's subservience, of forced polygamy - whether Christian (and hidden) or Muslim (and open) as in So Long A Letter. There is so much similar on the other coast of Africa - from NW to SE: "Purity is masculine, sin is female. Only women can betray, men are free..."
In fact everything is absolute: “Good girls are the ones who are the most hunted, married, and shut away in their homes like treasure. They live in a box, without light or air, between love and submission. Bad girls are rejected and left free. They fly anywhere they feel like going, like butterflies. They lend nature the color of their wings and breathe the fresh air of the fields, between love and freedom. There are no half-measures in a woman’s life: treasure and submission, or butterfly and freedom.”
At one point women are celebrating each other and decide to turn a legend around. A Princess Vuyazi had severely misbehaved and her punishment was being stamped on the face of the moon to be desolate, alone and freezing forever. Instead, on this ONE day:
“Vuyazi, why were you stamped on the moon’s surface as a punishment for all eternity? Why were you condemned to the icy inferno of the skies? Her answer is a silence of love and tenderness, and we declare with one loud yell: We know everything, we know it all. You refused to have tattoos cut into you with sharp blades just to please your master. You refused to carry out that act of cleaning his genitals on your breasts after lovemaking, to show your obedience and submission in accordance with the duties forced upon women in our part of the country. You refused to give feet and bones to the girls and gizzards and good pieces of meat to the boys. You fought passionately for the principle of fidelity, and against the licaho, the chastity knife. You said no to harem … You fought for the right to exist, whether in matters of love or those of food. All you wanted was to be a tree planted in the soil, swaying in the breeze, this we know. All you wanted was to be a secure nest for the birds of the sky, and that’s why you were condemned. Today we beg forgiveness for those who hurt you, together we cry, they don’t know the harm they did you and the entire universe. We plucked Vuyazi from her static position and danced with her over the moon’s vastness…”
And these are just a tiny sampling of the myriad cultural expectations - they serve him his food on their knees, they accept physical abuse without response or complaint, and of course it is her fault if he begins to cheat.
The following is not a plot point, but an anecdote that rings so true for so many women, tortured, used and left as debris of war throughout the world and throughout time.
“...a woman from...Zambezia. She’s got 5 children, all of whom have grown up. The eldest, a slim and elegant mulatto, is the product of the Portuguese, who raped her during the colonial war. The second, a black, strong and graceful like a warrior, is the fruit of another rape by the freedom fighters in the same colonial war. The third, another mulatto, is cute as a cat, is the product of the white Rhodesian commandos who pillaged the area in order to destroy the bases of the Zimbabwe freedom fighters. The fourth is from the rebels who waged the civil war in the interior of the country. The first and second were the result of rape, but for the third and fourth, she gave herself of her own free will, because she felt she was a specialist in rape. The fifth son is from a man she slept with out of love, for the first time. This woman bore the history of all her country’s wars in her womb. But she sings and laughs. …. “My four sons, without a father or a name, are children of the gods of fire, children of history, born from the power of a force armed with machine guns. My happiness was to have borne only men”, she says, “for none of them will experience the pain of rape.”
More than once over the course of these 450-some pages Rami notes: “God passes by and sees what’s happening, but has nothing to say about the misery experienced by these creatures he has made.”
This is the first fiction by a woman from Mozambique to be translated into English. A symphony that ends on a perfect note.
When Paulina Chiziane won Portugal’s most prestigious literary award, the Camões Prize, she thanked her country, saying she always wrote from a collective experience, transmitting a collective voice. It is through that lens that this, her most famous novel, should be viewed.
Chiziane examines polygamy through Rami’s viewpoint. Though she and her husband Tony married in the church where polygamy is considered barbaric, he later embraces an illegal form of Mozambique’s southern tradition of polygamy. From the male view, polygamy is power that comes with privileges as lord of the home, Rami points out. The women cook and serve him the choicest meat on their knees, wash his feet, bear his children, tend the livestock and fields. All of this he gains, “with the minimum of effort, for the simple reason that one has been born a man.”
The women in this tradition are seen as cattle that need to be led to the field by a cane. They are as vulnerable as flecks of dust with bleak futures of poverty and hunger “when the charms they put up for sale grow thin,” Rami says. She cannot stand to be rejected by her husband. “A deep sense of loathing poisons my way ahead. I feel dizzy. A bitter taste in my mouth. Nausea. Repugnance. Impotence and despair.”
There is no question that the storytelling is superb, but description can seem vertiginous at times. Of a young woman, Rami says, “She walks like a gazelle. From every gesture emanate waves, sea birds, white clouds, breeze, perfumes, all of which complement her. She is perfection in movement. Even the steps taken by her bare feet go well with her. Even the grasses she treads are thankful for the gift of having been brushed by her perfume. Her eyes are Venus’s diamonds, and when she blinks, each eyelash releases gold dust. From her smile, doves, birds, flowers, are released.”
The same flourish is given to some of Rami’s laments, which pound her point with a mallet. That might be storytelling or simply what it takes to move the needle on embedded tyranny. In either case, the reader is not the audience for whom this story is written. The culture is.
I'm not sure what I expected going in, but whatever my expectation was, this book surprised me (in a good way). Soap opera is not quite the word I want to use to describe it, but there were some similarities, mostly due (I think) to the action & wide emotional arcs. ("Loving" Catholic husband has not one, not two, not three, but four mistresses. Plus kids. All behind the back of his "first wife" of 20 years. Antics ensue. Love, hate, jealousy, rage, cunning, exhaustion, revenge, friendship, innovation, hypocrisy, & imperiousness are just some of the emotional explorations.) Sometimes it felt like it was approaching melodrama, but Chiziane generally kept it from going over that edge & let the story serve up a moral, ethical, cultural, or social point at those moments. She had some heartfelt yet scathing points to make about men, society, patriarchy, & more. For me, it was a window into a different world. I think the story could have been as affecting even with further editing. Even so, it was a strong book with some withering & well-delivered points. Overall, I found it interesting & worthwhile.
P.S. It's shocking, fascinating, & impressive that Chiziane was the first woman in Mozambique to publish a novel! Glad she led the way & I hope women publishing novels in Mozambique is a trend that has grown since that time.
Um livro de 2002 que pode ser visto como um ensaio corajoso sobre a poligamia em Moçambique. É a estória de Rami mas podia ser a de qualquer mulher moçambicana, especialmente do Sul, uma vez que expõe a cultura e as tradições daquela realidade naquele país. A história é contada com uma acolhedora oralidade assente em metáforas sobre metáforas. Muito ritmo e poesia com deliciosos remates no final de cada capítulo, numa espécie de aforismos poéticos. A autora nunca se perde e é louvável o facto do livro nunca se desequilibrar. É sempre bom aprender palavras novas, e Niketche, que dá nome ao título do livro, significa dança de amor.
Niketche é uma dança tradicional do norte de Moçambique, uma dança sexual feminina, associada a rituais de iniciação, em que as meninas mostram à comunidade que são mulheres.
"A dança do sol e da lua, dança do vento e da chuva, dança da criação. Uma dança que mexe que aquece. Que imobiliza o corpo e faz a alma voar. As raparigas aparecem de tangas e missangas. Movem o corpo com arte saudando o despertar de todas as primaveras. Ao primeiro toque do tambor, cada um sorri, celebrando o mistério da vida ao sabor do niketche."
Rami é casada com Tony há mais de 20 anos. Sofre com as ausências do marido e tem a responsabilidade de criar e educar os cinco filhos sem ajuda. Descobre que o seu marido tem uma amante e, para sua infelicidade isso é apenas uma pequena parte da verdade. Afinal, o seu marido tem várias mulheres e vai-se dividindo pelas várias famílias que foi criando.
Esta é uma história que fala de tradições que, mesmo colidindo com vivências mais atuais e ocidentais herdadas do período colonial, continuam a ser aceites. Uma sociedade patriarcal, onde as mulheres têm um papel de suporte mas secundário, de obediência e servidão, onde o acesso à educação ou o poder de decisão é reservado aos homens.
"Para as mulheres o eterno conselho é: segura, fecha, cobre, esconde. Para os homens é: larga, voa, abre, mostra - pode alguém compreender as contradições deste mundo?"
Muitas das escolhas e caminhos que Rami escolheu causaram-me estranheza e senti várias das tradições apresentadas como repugnantes, outras como humilhantes para as mulheres. Desde logo, a necessidade de a mulher só se poder realizar através do amor de um homem, através do casamento e dos filhos, é algo que considero impensável. Mas ao longo da história, Rami transforma-se e transforma o seu sofrimento e desânimo em força. A sororidade resulta em mudança e afirmação.
Um livro que é sobre mulheres, sobre a condição feminina, que é determinada pela geografia e o tipo de sociedade em que nascemos. A igualdade não é ainda uma realidade, mas existem locais onde o caminho a percorrer é bem mais longo.
There's plenty of interest in this one. Set in recent day Mozambique, the story is about family life, traditions, the various cultures, the role of woman and the tradition of polygamy. Women are to do what they are told and the book contain many (too many) pages discussing the regal value of a man versus the lowly value of woman. The book contains one paragraph which says it all: “The string always breaks at its weakest point. It’s the cycle of subordination. The white man says to the black man: it’s your fault. The rich man says to the poor man: it’s your fault. The man says to the woman: it’s your fault. The woman says to her son: it’s your fault. The son says to the dog: it’s your fault. The dog barks furiously and bites the white man and the white man, once again angrily shouts at the black man: it’s your fault. And so the wheel turns century after century ad infinitum.” There's a touch of satire but a lot of anger as to how women have been exploited over the years. Some interesting insights into the way the various ethnicities treat men, women and sex, the use of traditions versus legal standing, the remnants of the Portuguese and village folklore. It would be a great book if the repetitive drumbeat of comparing men and women was removed.
This novel is a telenovela! Chiziane takes the reader through a card deck of heterosexual relationships in contemporary Mozambique, in a sitcom style where characters from diverse ethnic heritage and perspectives and personalities live their lives and dissect them together over tea or wine or fist fights. The narrator's perspective is curious and open, ready to go to bat for herself or her values, and also willing to back down or try something new when things don't go well. It's a great way to explore monogamy, polygamy, polyamory, cheating, different ways to be a wife and different ways to perceive that your lover respects you, pitting conceptions of love side by side instead of above and below. The book is light and soapy, but there's a dark underlying tension throughout in which no matter how many ways women recreate love, lovers, and marriage in conflict or together in solidarity, they never really have power over: only power within the overarching patriarchal structure that defines the boundaries of their lives.
Uma franqueza que espanta, uma doçura que encanta. E eu fico abismada com esta Rami que é uma personagem grande e me enche de ternura e admiração por este seu esforço em perceber a poligamia. Uma história batida desde que há homens e mulheres no mundo mas Rami, a primeira das cinco mulheres de Tony não se fica e vai atrás da versão de cada uma para compreender a sua dor e a sua solidão. Revelação atrás de revelação e Rami muda. E Tony enfraquece aos olhos destas mulheres que dancam a Niketche juntas e se afirmam como mulheres, apesar da dicotomia norte e sul. Tantas mulheres cabem no universo quando este se abre como um livro. Muitas metáforas para bem o explicar.
li gritando. este livro é poderoso. eu já esperava algo impactante, li Ventos do Apocalipse da Paulina Chiziane há uns anos atrás e já sabia do que ela era capaz.
a poligamia do título amarra a história de Remi, seu marido Tony e as outras esposas, Julieta, Luíza, Saly e Mauá. veja bem, o marido se torna polígamo depois de ter casado com Rami em uma igreja católica, jurando monogamia. ele vira polígamo oficial a contragosto, depois que Rami se une às amantes dele e as torna esposas. essa poligamia é um arranjo social muito específico e particular da sociedade moçambicana. não é a poligamia islâmica. não é a poligamia hipster de relacionamento aberto. esse relacionamento específico tem rituais para oficializar a situação e permite ao homem ter múltiplas esposas. as mulheres podem reivindicar ajudantes maritais caso o homem seja impotente. muitos filhos são gerados e as famílias tem interações bem violentas e fortes; aliás, as famílias tomam os indivíduos em várias escalas e de múltiplas maneiras. só lendo, só vendo, não consigo descrever.
já quero ler de novo. quero que esse livro esteja na minha memória assim como Um teto todo seu da Virginia Woolf: quero citar passagens e usar de base para construir linhas de pensamento. se Woolf critica a sociedade patriarcal partindo da economia de se existir enquanto artista, Chiziane critica a sociedade patriarcal expandindo a visão de mundo de uma mulher que descobre até onde vai o amor romântico. há anos vejo críticas superficiais ao amor romântico descrito em 90% das obras de ficção (ecoando nos filmes disney). nunca tinha encontrado a desconstrução que finalmente removesse as últimas raízes do que eu aprendi desde criança (e agora discordo com todas as minhas forças e acho venenoso especialmente para mulheres).
esta narrativa traz a pessoa que lê para o estado emocional das personagens de um jeito que deixa expostas as conexões e decisões, as influências e a humanidade de que alguém é capaz. dona Paulina é muito poderosa. se por um lado sua escrita se aproxima de Mia Couto por tema e localidade, por outro se distancia porque as personagens não são "o outro", não são pessoas que a pessoa lê, Paulina faz a pessoa que lê vestir a pele da pessoa descrita. as aflições são minhas. a identificação é total. a leitura é emocionante porque fisga emoções reais vividas e revisitadas ali. cuidado, viu.
a única grande frustração com esse livro é que está esgotado há tanto tempo que usado e grifado custa mais que 100reais. li a cópia da biblioteca da FFLCH USP, completamente rabiscada a lápis. apaguei rabiscos no começo e desisti de gastar borracha. ai ouvi que essa é a única maneira de manter esse livro na biblioteca, sem inspirar roubo e revenda. é uma vergonha a Cia das Letras responder à procura por esse livro dizendo que está ai o livro digital e que não tem previsão de reimpressão. vi no youtube que há muitas edições que circulam pelo continente africano e aparentemente não são enviadas ao continente americano. ódio.
enfim, recomendo esse livro para todas as pessoas. acho inclusive que deveria ser lido na escola durante aulas de educação sexual.
I found this to be a fascinating study of a culture I had no idea existed. I understood very early in the book that in this culture, men are kings and women are not much more than their slaves. This point is hammered to the reader over and over, as if Chiziane isn't sure we understand what she is writing about. Still, this is an interesting study of lives most of us will never encounter outside this book.
By page 22, I was sick of the woe-is-me tone of the first person narrator, never mind all her schlocky metaphorizing. I have no doubt that she had lots of reasons for all of her complaints, but you couldn’t pay me to suffer through a novel told in this grating way. Long story short: I didn’t make it to page 23.
Around the World Reading Challenge: MOZAMBIQUE === Didn't intend to read this is one sitting but man, I just blazed right through! Really interesting story of a first wife who discovers her husband has multiple families. Distraught, she first reacts in anger towards the women, before realizing that they're stronger together. A humorous, scathing critique of the country's patriarchal culture, from the country's first published female novelist--original published only 20 years ago. I really enjoyed this one!
PODCASTové zamyslenie je tu Keď Rami zistí, že ju milovaný Tony podvádza, chce sa pomstiť jeho milenkám. Len čo ich však lepšie spozná, zistí, že jej zákonitý manžel je mnohoženáč. A tak sa jej manželstvo premení na ironickú drámu, v ktorej je len jednou z hlavných postáv. V Raminom trpkom osude sa odzrkadľujú stáročia miestnych tradícií a zvykov, krutosti a zložitých kultúrnych rozdielov medzi mozambickým severom a juhom. Bolesť a utrpenie, ktoré Rami prežíva, ju prevedú labyrintom emócií, spoznávania a nejasností. Paulina Chiziane nám vkladá do rúk Ariadninu niť a svojou odvahou, šikovnosťou a pravdou nás sprevádza nástrahami života.
Kniha o polygamii, a predstavach žien a mužov čo toto slovo znamená, o kope tradícií, ktoré už sú zastarané, ale niet tej sily, ktorá by ich zrušila, lebo držia spoločenský rád, ktorý je krehkejší ako vaječná skrupinka. Postavenie žien v Mozambiku nie je závidenia hodné, nielen vďaka histórii a vojnám, ale aj faktu, že tradície sú nemenné. Táto kniha je náhľad pod pokrievku do spoločnosti, ktorá stále preferuje mužov. A ak má niekto nápad, že viac žien/manželiek je dobrý nápad... prečítajte si. Ak má niekto nápad, že deľba práce je ľahkšia, keď je viac žien, ktoré sa starajú o jedného muža... prečítajte si. Ak si niekto myslí, že polygamia je proste len chodenia po okolí a lovenie žien ako ponožiek... tak toto máte povinné čítanie. Otvorený pohľad na postavenie žien v spoločnosti, 4 mozabmické a určite nepolygamické mačiatka...
Prvá veta: Kdesi nablízku sa ozve rachot. Bomba. Nášľapná mína. Možno sa vracia vojna. Posledná veta: Pustím ho. Nespadne, ale letí do priepasti, smerom k srdcu púšte, k bezhraničnému peklu. Goodreads Challenge 2024: 70. kniha
This superb novel, written by Mozambique's first published female novelist and expertly translated from the Portuguese by David Brookshaw, is narrated by Rami, a modest southern Mozambican woman who has been faithfully married to a police chief in the capital of Maputo for the past 20 years, but is disturbed by the increasing frequency of Tony's nights spent away from home and his inattention to her. She soon learns that he has taken on another lover, which is not uncommon in this patriarchal society that accepts and celebrates male infidelity, permits polygamy as a cultural norm, and looks the other way when wives are abused and beaten by their husbands, while expecting these women to serve their men the best parts of their homecooked meals while kneeling in servitude and gratitude. Rami encounters her rival, and after a violent argument they become allies. Soon Rami finds out that Tony has taken on three other lovers, none of whom are completely satisfied with their lot. After he refuses to give up his lovers Rami befriends these four women, who come up with a plot to confront Tony as one, and shame him into becoming a respectable provider and lover to all of them. Tony, however, has other ideas.
"The First Wife" portrays the repressed lives of women in modern Mozambican society while also being easily readable and often lighthearted and humorous, and demonstrates the power of collective action of women in a society that falsely claims that it respects and values them. Despite being nearly 500 pages in length this was a quick and very enjoyable and educational novel, and I hope to read more of Paulina Chiziane's work.
I have rarely had a reading experience as strange and disturbing as this one. Much of this book is grim, very grim, and I was helped through that by the August sun shining on the pages as I read in the garden, and by the beautiful design of this book. The blurb doesn't do it justice; it speaks of plot, a society "where colonial infuences still run deep", of satire. Maybe the publishers, translating this from the Portuguese (a language brought to Mozambique by invaders / colonisers) for an Anglophone audience felt that a mention of colonisation would entice readers as it once again centres the European perspective. For me, there was very little here of post-colonisation (except in an all-pervading, elusive, allusive sense) and much, much more of intra-Mozambiquean differences (people from the north vs southerners, Makua ans Makonde women vs Shangaan women) -- differences that to me are barely comprehensive except that I understand: these differentiations exist everywhere. It was the same when I read Scholastique Mukasonga, Tsitsi Dangarembga and Noo Saro-Wiwa: a sense of tribes, cultures, linguistic groups, histories that I (with my white European belief in an "Africa") know nothing about. I felt my brain stretching on every page.
Stylistically and ideologically, this book is also not like the Anglo-Western narrative patterns I am familiar with. Major characters are whipped into existence 3 pages from the end. Other major characters, like the women's children, remain almost nameless and sketched in. Some incidents are stretched across many chapters, exploring each mental and emotional repercussion in hallucinatory prose. Other incidents that I am assuming took years (like building up a hairdressing business from scratch) are glossed in a few paragraphs. The pain of being a woman in a patriarchy is raw on every page.
I learned the strange (to me) custom of stretching a woman's labia into a "squid" and tattoing the insides of her vagina (I think?) into "fish scales" during a teenage girl's initiation rites. I'm still unsure how these procedures actually work.
Above all, this is about one resilient woman (the first-person narrator) and polygamy. She is not a "strong woman"; she is full of contradictions, can be vicious, can be servile, can veer from admiring and supporting her rivals to envying and despising them. This is the difficult part in reading this that I alluded to above. I wanted to love and admire her; I wanted her to be wise and rise above life's troubles -- but she refused to be stuck in that box. Her fellow wives are a delight, all four (and more) of them. And the poor husband: you start out by despising him and being scares of him and you end by pitying his pathetic confused masculinity (and in a concluding perspicacious self-reflection, he shows that he is aware of having been socialised into his vile role but he is caught in it). The book describes polygamy as a system that operates to rules and laws: the first wife sets up a rota for the husband's presence in each household; the wives have the right to find a new wife (not the husband); if the husband cannot satisfy the women, they have the right to choose a "conjugal assistant"; if the husband dies, the first wide is "kutchingered" (slept with) by the dead man's brother. The women in this book assert the rules of polygamy once they get over their sense of Christian-induced morality and belief in monogamous marital fidelity.
The memory of the violence of civil war appears in this chilling passage about a woman who has five children, two from having been raped, by a Portuguese man during war and by a freedom fighter during the same colonial war.
"This woman bore the history of all her country's wars in her womb. But she sings and laughs. She tells her story to anyone who passes, tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips, as she affirms: My four sons, without a father or a name, are children of the gods of fire, children of history, born from the power of a forcr armed with machine guns. My happiness was to have borne only men, she says, for none of them will experience the pain of rape." (412)
The original title of the book is "Niketche".
"'It's one of our dances, a dance of the Makua," Mauá explains, 'a dance of love that newly initiated girls do in front of everyone, in order to proclaim: We are women. We are ripened like fruit! We are ready for life!' Niketche. ... A dance that moves and shakes, that heats you up. That makes the body stand still and the soul fly. The girls appear wearing loincloths and beads. They move their bodies with skill, welcoming the awakening of all springtimes." (237)
The emphasis on girls becoming women and doing an important and joyful thing together is quite different from the English title "The First Wife" which focuses on the individual in relation to a man.
Format: A beautiful book by the Archipelago Press in their trademark squareish format (at 492 pages, this makes for quite a brick but as I am not shlepping it about during the pandemic, the heft of it just delighted me). The pages are creamy smooth, in a pleasant off-white colour, with lots of blank space in the margins and betweens the lines. The (uncredited) typeface is a mix of spiky and richly round, like black coffee with a touch of liqueur. The cover is folded back on itself and has a sensuous corrugated texture that is a pleasure to hold in the hand. The reams are properly stitched; the book falls open nicely without creasing the spine. Cover design by Merikokeb Berhanu.
The translation by David Brookshaw is very fine.
Thank you, Archipelago, for giving us non-lusophones this book.
What a fascinating book. I wasn't expecting much from a book about polygamy, maybe some interesting tidbits, I don't know. But I picked it up for a reading challenge I am doing so there we go. And I am so glad I did! I definitely found a lot of really good things.
The narrative voice is beautiful, very lyrical and descriptive, poetic. Sometimes so much so that I had trouble knowing what was *actually* going on but I could catch on eventually. I am always fascinated when a translation reads so smoothly. I am very grateful to David Brookshaw for translating this book so well.
The views on pretty much everything are deep and poignant, very thought-provoking. This would be a great book to read for a group discussion (if everyone could get a hold of a copy) because it addresses So Much: culture, tradition vs colonization vs differing cultures across the African continent; gender roles/views, expectations and reality of lifestyle; poverty vs opportunity; perceived strength vs perceived weakness, revenge vs forgiveness, hatred vs love. And what IS love, really? Is it merely an act, a moment? A fleeting feeling? Something solid and sure that lasts? Something to be used for gain? Something that only causes pain?
So many thoughts to dissect.
The characters are strong and human. So very human. Bold, submissive, manipulative and honest, suspicious and trusting, full of strengths and weaknesses. And Rami is so much stronger than anyone gives her credit for, especially herself. Even when she seems to vacillate on what it is she actually wants, it is so human even if it was annoying for me as a reader wanting to say, "What are you doing? What are you thinking?? Why is this even a question?" But for her as a person, it is much less clear.
A fascinating book that deserves so much more attention than it has gotten.
Warnings: casual approach to domestic abuse (though not really ever described), adultery, rape alluded to, casual talking of sex and love-making, casual talking of genitalia, references to witch-craft and spells. Nothing is very detailed, and in the context it is not crude.
Niketche. Una storia di poligamia è un viaggio nel mondo interiore della protagonista, Rami, una donna di 40 anni con quattro figli che decide di non chiudere più gli occhi davanti ai tradimenti del marito, ma di affrontare la cruda realtà: Tony ha altre donne, da cui ha avuto dei figli. Rami l’ha sposato a 18 anni, dopo aver preso il diploma, che in Mozambico rappresenta un livello di scolarizzazione molto elevato per le donne (che, spesso, non frequentano neanche la scuola elementare) e da quel momento gli ha dedicato tutta la sua vita. Tony però saltella da un’amante all’altra per soddisfare i suoi capricci incurante dei numerosi figli che nascono da queste relazioni; mantiene le sue donne ma non si cura del loro benessere né di quello dei propri figli. Educata secondo la morale cattolica e cresciuta in un mondo dove le donne contano veramente poco (possono essere uccise per non aver dato ai mariti le parti di carne più pregiata), Rami si rifiuta di cedere all’ipocrisia diffusa nella buona società di Maputo di cui sia Rami sia Tony, capo della polizia locale, fanno parte: “La purezza è maschile, e il peccato è femminile. Solo le donne possono tradire, gli uomini sono liberi, Rami” ribatte con sicurezza Tony alle accuse di tradimento mosse dalla moglie. Rami ha davanti due strade: far finta di nulla e consolarsi pensando che è l’unica “vera” moglie, quella garantita dalla legge oppure incontrare queste donne e cercare di capire cosa Tony ama in loro. La terza strada, cioè chiedere il divorzio, Rami non la prende neanche in considerazione perché diventerebbe una reietta, si troverebbe senza denaro e, soprattutto, renderebbe la vita più semplice a Tony: inizia quindi un percorso che la porterà a conoscere le altre mogli di Tony: Juli, Luisa, Saly, Mauà Sualè che sono espressione della diversità di cultura e di valori che rispecchia la varietà di etnie del Mozambico, dove Nord e Sud, città e campagna sono mondi culturalmente ed economicamente separati e spesso inconciliabili; ciò che le accomuna è la necessità di provvedere a se stesse e a i figli che hanno generato con Tony. Le quattro amanti sono pragmatiche e non si fanno illusioni: non sperano di prendere il posto di Rami; per loro Tony, che pure amano o hanno amato, è soprattutto un fonte di sostentamento. A causa della guerra e dello spopolamento delle campagne, gli uomini sono un bene che scarseggia: non c’è, quindi, nulla di male a dividerlo con altre se questo preserva una donna e i suoi figli dalla fame. Rami deve quindi fare i conti con la dura realtà e trovare una soluzione che tuteli tutte loro dai capricci di Tony, il quale saltella da una casa a un’altra secondo il desiderio e il bisogno del momento senza tenere in minima considerazione i sentimenti delle cinque donne, sostenuto da una cultura tradizionalista che non considera uomo e donna persone con pari diritti e dignità. La soluzione di Rami è di rendere ufficiale la poligamia di Tony e quindi di vincolarlo, attraverso il coinvolgimento della famiglia allargata, ai doveri del marito poligamo che deve dedicare a ciascuna moglie lo stesso tempo e le stesse attenzioni. La decisione di Rami è sofferta perché contraria ai valori in cui è cresciuta e in cui crede, ma è l’unica che le consente di svelare l’ipocrisia corrente della pratica comune per gli uomini di avere una moglie legale e molte amanti senza alcuna tutela per se stesse e, soprattutto, per i figli. La poligamia, invece, concede diritti alle mogli che possono riunirsi e decidere della vita della famiglia, mettere il marito poligamo di fronte alle sue responsabilità e gli impedisce di avere nuove mogli senza il consenso delle altre. Rami diventa il vero capofamiglia e comincia ad occuparsi delle altre mogli, superando la naturale rivalità che le contrappone. La relazione di fiducia tra le cinque donne si rivela la loro grande forza: insieme riescono a conquistare l’autonomia desiderata e a scegliere la strada da seguire. La narrazione procede in prima persona: è Rami che racconta e l’intera vicenda è filtrata dai suoi stati emotivi, oscillando tra l’esaltazione quando pensa di intravedere la soluzione per tenersi Tony e la più cupa disperazione di fronte ai nuovi ostacoli che rendono arduo il suo percorso di donna che ha il coraggio di non seguire le strade tracciate dalla tradizione ma neanche quelle indicate dalla cultura dei colonizzatori, che portano verso la solitudine e l’anomia. La questione centrale messa in luce da Paulina Chiziane è proprio lo scarto tra valori e pratiche della tradizione e assetto ufficiale dello Stato. La proclamazione dell’indipendenza del Mozambico si è associata al rifiuto in toto della cultura tradizionale, creando una società che aderisce solo formalmente alle leggi dello Stato ma, di fatto, continua a essere regolata dagli istituti tradizionali. La situazione delle donne è paradossale poiché non hanno più la tutela degli istituti tradizionali come la poligamia (che tutelava le donne e obbligava il marito a tenere in considerazione le loro opinioni) o il matriarcato (secondo cui la donna è il centro della famiglia, dà il suo cognome ai figli e l’uomo tiene in massima considerazione le sue necessità) ma neanche quella delle legge ufficiale (che riconosce una solo moglie e obbliga i figli ad avere il cognome del padre.) dato che, nei fatti, nessuno (e le donne per prime) riconosce pari dignità tra le persone, indipendentemente dal sesso, dalla provenienza geografica o dal credo religioso. La soluzione di questo problema, sembra suggerire l’autrice attraverso la voce e gli occhi di Rami, non è a portata di mano perché passa attraverso la consapevolezza di sé e della propria storia per poi riuscire a guardarli con occhi nuovi.
Neste livro de "prosa poética" Paulina Chiziane dá-nos mais uma vez um banho de cultura moçambicana, desta vez, tal como o nome indica, acerca de poligamia. Gostei tanto desta leitura! O sofrimento de Rami, a sua não aceitação dos costumes vigentes, a sua ternura, a forma como se uniu às outras mulheres da vida do seu Toni, mas ao mesmo tempo a forma como tem a sua cultura impressa na sua forma de ser deixaram-me encantada com esta leitura!