Roman Kosti je potresna pripovest o životima crnačkih radnika na jednoj farmi sredinom proteklog veka. Za razliku od mnogih koji su se mirili sa ropstvom glavna junakinja romana Marita mu se istrajno suprotstavljala. Neumorna u traganju za nestalim sinom, pripadnikom gerile, i uporna u borbi protiv ugnjetavanja, postala je uzor svima koji su je poznavali. Njena tragična priča uverljivo ilustruje kako je preispitivanje vlastitih stavova i spremnost da se oni menjaju vitalni sastojak svake borbe, pa i borbe za slobodu.
Iznurujuć i gust poetski roman ukrštenih ispovednih perspektiva. Povest o stradanju i kolonijalnim svestima, kao i o ličnoj borbi osuđenoj na neuspeh. Jedno od onih dela gde glavni junak nema svoj glas, već se oblikuje posredstvom tuđih iskaza. Zanimljiva je upotreba folklornih elemenata (tako jedna od pripovedačkih figura može biti i duh), koja donosi neobična, često vrlo mesnata poređenja.
Uvek se obradujem kada smo u prilici da čitamo nekoga iz udaljene kulture, poput Zimbabvea, odakle je Čendžerai Hove. Ipak, iako ova knjiga treba da zanima svakog ko se ozbiljno bavi postkolonijalnom književnošću, kad je o autentičnim afričkim glasovima reč, ja bih uvek pre preporučio Amosa Tutuolu („Moj život u šumi duhova”), čije je delo sugestivno kao Hoveovo, ali daleko življe i šarenije.
Ce roman n'est que souffrances et douleurs. Les souffrances de ces Hommes noir qui se battent du mieux qu'ils peuvent dans un Zimbabwe tout juste indépendant mais qui reste majoritairement aux mains du colonisateur, les douleurs des femmes noires qui elles doivent en plus de toutes les souffrances inhérentes à leur race, subir les brimades de leur époux qui n'ont que leur corps à elles pour prouver leur valeur et leur "productivité"et restaurer leur virilité. C'est qu'être traité de boy par des garçons deux fois plus jeune que vous cela laisse des séquelles indélébiles. Etre femme noire, cela requiert une force mentale intergalactique. La force, la beauté de ce récit à plusieurs voix reside dans son langage poétique, dans cette forme orale maitrisée par l'auteur. On oublierai presque une seconde qu'il s'agit ici d'un chant, une oraison funèbre, un hommage à toutes ces vies brisées avant d'éclore, à ces destins interrompu par la cupidité et l'égoïsme de ceux qui se sont longtemps cru maitre de ce monde. Bref, il est noir et sombre tout comme il est agréable à l'oeil et l'esprit vigilant. Un regal.
… you can torture me. spread my bowels for the jackals to eat and tear them to pieces, mutilate my body with your anger, throw my brains to the vultures, leave the remains of my body in the playground for your children to play with, cut my ears to decorate your own ears, cut my fingers use them to wipe your own sweat… my bones will rise in the spirit of war. They will sing war-songs with the fire of battle. They will compose new war-songs and fight on until the shrine of the land of their birth are respected once more. My bones will rise with such power the graves will be too small to contain them. The ribs of the graves will break when my bones rise, and you stare in disbelief, not knowing if your hunger for war can stand up to it. Then the locusts will not be seen again and strangers will not think that he who accepts them is full of foolishness… - Chenjerai Hove, Bones.
An examination of the War of Liberation from the point of view of those who stayed behind: a mother whose son went away to join the rebellion, and a young woman who saw the unruly mother herself leave to look for her son. It is a short, static meditation composed of internal reflections and monologues, interspersed with the voice of the ancestors which are the conscience of the land. Hove's way of reconstructing and commenting on what has happened in the village is striking, and it is too bad that Bones is so short and does not evolve into a story. As it is, the book takes an intimate view of the internal suffering and questioning of ordinary individual (with Janifa and Marita); at the same time, it is also an aerial view on the corruption that progressively turned individuals against each other (with Chisaga). I am glad to have the psychology and the history beautifully captured and illustrated, but that is maybe not enough to make the book truly memorable.
Initially I had to read this book for my senior English class in high school. So that meant I really found no interest in it at the time. Two years later I picked it up again and fell in love with it. As such a short novel you may think it will be a short story with a lot of simplicity. It is not that. Bones will make you pause at the end of each chapter and apply what you just read to the world around you.
Amazing book. In fact, I fell in love with literature because of this amazing touching, and story of Hove. The white supervisor Manyepo was extremely heartless.
Citaat : Jullie kunnen me ophangen, jullie kunnen mijn hersenen en vlees verstrooien over de aarde, maar mijn beenderen zullen herrijzen! Review : Chenjerai Hove (1956 – 2015) was een Zimbabwaans schrijver. In 1982 debuteerde hij met een gedichtenbundel. Zijn doorbraak als schrijver (ook in Nederland) kwam met zijn roman Beenderen. Als kritisch schrijver was hij niet geliefd bij de machthebbers in Zimbabwe. Begin jaren negentig week hij uit naar Europa, waar hij uiteindelijk in Noorwegen ging wonen en werken. Daar stierf hij ook, in juli 2015.
Met Nederland had Hove op verschillende manieren een band. In 2002 was hij een half jaar gastonderzoeker bij het Afrika-Studiecentrum in Leiden. Voor De Volkskrant was hij tussen 1990 en 1992 columnist. Zijn columns werden gebundeld in het boek Berichten uit Harare. Hij vocht met woorden tegen het regime van Robert Mugabe, maar eigenlijk wilde hij het liefst stoeien met de taal. Hij was een meester in het overbrengen van het poëtische taalgebruik van het Shona naar romans en verhalen in het Engels.
Deze aangrijpende roman situeert zich in Zimbabwe gedurende de onafhankelijkheidsstrijd in de jaren zeventig. Centraal in het verhaal staan twee vrouwen die 'indirect' het slachtoffer werden van deze strijd: de moeder van een jongen die op jeugdige leeftijd het dorp verliet om zich bij de verzetstrijders aan te sluiten, en een meisje dat ooit een liefdesbrief van diezelfde jongen kreeg. Ogenschijnlijk zijn het twee verschillende personages die het het tragische lot van de moeder en het meisje beschrijven. Later blijkt het allemaal verteld te zijn vanuit het perspectief van het meisje.
Het is een fascinerend boek. Door het veelvuldig gebruik van Shona-lyriek slaagt de auteur erin een ontroerend beeld te schetsen van de trieste omstandigheden van zijn volk. Hij won er in 1989 de belangrijke Noma prijs mee. In het nawoord dat aan de Nederlandse editie is toegevoegd, zegt Chenjerai Hove: "Ik spreek met de rivieren, de aarde, de rotsblokken en de bergen van mijn land. Door hen hoor ik de stemmen van mijn volk en zijn geschiedenis. Een geschiedenis die nog niet is opgeschreven. Ik ben het kind van het geheugen en vertel het verhaal van de herinnering aan wie het horen wil."
This is a one sitting book, but because it is written in a poetic way, I took time with it. The story is about a woman (Marita) whose only boy child left her and the village, to fight for his country. The setting is mostly based on a farm, belonging to a cruel White male called Manyepo, where the mother befriended a young lady (Janifa). Their close friendship was sparked by a love letter that Marita's son wrote to Janifa, which the former always loves hearing being read to her. It is the only thing that his son has left, as his words were poured on the paper.
Marita is a woman who is emotionally burdened, to an extent that she decides to go search for a child, in the big city. In her absence, Janifa is left with a big void in her heart, and she tells the story of Marita, as well as her all the teachings she impacted to her. One of the things Marita teaches Janifa is qouted below:
"Think of that, a man who does not even know how to cook for himself wants to rule the whole earth. That is what men are like. They look at their things erect in front of them and think they are kings. They do not know that it is just desire shooting out of them, nothing else. So child, you do what you can with the weaknesses of men."
Such writing is what makes this book beautiful, and no wonder it was translated into more than three languages and won an award. Highly recommend it.
Denne boka har jeg lest i norsk oversettelse, «Knokler». Romanen fra 1988 representerte Chenjerai Hove sitt internasjonale gjennombrudd. En bok som er gripende i sine skildringer av den hvite mannens undertrykking og av kvinnens kår som kjønnsobjekt. Men også en litt usammenhengende og kjedelig bok. Er det en vakker poetisk kraft i boken eller er den svulstig? Jeg blir ikke helt enig med meg selv. En midt på treet leseopplevelse.
I am glad I read this. It is out of my comfort zone and makes my brain work. But, a lot of this went over my head because of my lack of knowledge about African history. The conversation at the end of the book with the author is helpful and interesting. But I still do not feel like I got enough to give it a rating
Easily one of the best books I've ever read. The narrative technique of having each chapter essentially function as the internal monologues of the different characters in remarkable, and the visual images really speak to the uncertainties and contradictions that are at the heart of the immediate post-colonial moment. Who owns what; whose value system triumphs; what's a life worth? Whose life?
A brillant book that purposefully reflects the reality of female Pendants in an inter-generational relationship. I felt Marita's loss of her child who diappears without a trace after joining the liberation and how that ends up having implications for Janita who continues to love Marita deeply.
Interesting book exploring issues related to the liberation war, patriarchy and working on farms in post-independence Zimbabwe. The book could have been better edited.
A prose poem narrating the psychological and physical struggle of Marita as she stands strong against oppression. Marita's story is a powerful illustration, especially unique as it incorporates the images of her being from memories of people who knew her. The novel is marvellously rich in Shona idioms and Chenjerai Hove beautifully voices the Zimbabwean struggle for liberation.
I love the way this "story" lyrically portrays the horror that the people involved are facing. It is sort of written like an epic poem, describing the sadness and misery involved in war and revolution. The central storyline is sort of soul-crushing, but also beautiful in its display of family bonds in the face of real, serious danger.
Whilst the form of the novel can be a little confusing at times the overall narrative works well. And it's also quite short so you can read this in about an hour.