Gravel Heart

by Abdulrazak Gurnah

A powerful story of exile, migration, and betrayal, from the Booker Prize shortlisted author of Paradise.

Salim has always known that his father does not want him. Living with his parents and his adored Uncle Amir in a house full of secrets, he is a bookish child, a dreamer haunted by night terrors. It is the 1970s and Zanzibar is changing. Tourists arrive, the island's white sands obscuring the memory of recent conflict--the longed-for independence from British colonialism swiftly followed by bloody revolution. When his father moves out, retreating into disheveled introspection, Salim is confused and ashamed. His mother does not discuss the change, nor does she explain her absences with a strange man; silence is layered on silence.

When glamorous Uncle Amir, now a senior diplomat, offers Salim an escape, the lonely teenager travels to London for college. But nothing has prepared him for the biting cold and seething crowds of this hostile city. Struggling to find a foothold, and to understand the darkness at the heart of his family, he must face devastating truths about those closest to him--and about love, sex, and power. Evoking the immigrant experience with unsentimental precision and profound understanding, Gravel Heart is a powerfully affecting story of isolation, identity, belonging, and betrayal, and Abdulrazak Gurnah's most astonishing achievement.

Genres: Fiction, Africa, Historical Fiction, Nobel Prize, Tanzania, Literary Fiction, African Literature

272 pages, Hardcover

First published May 4, 2017

About the author

Abdulrazak Gurnah was born in 1948 in Zanzibar and lives in England, where he teaches at the University of Kent. The most famous of his novels are Paradise, shortlisted for both the Booker and the Whitbread Prize; By the Sea, longlisted for the Booker Prize and shortlisted for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize; and Desertion, shortlisted for the Commonwealth Prize. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2021 "for his uncompromising and compassionate penetration of the effects of colonialism and the fate of the refugee in the gulf between cultures and continents".

Reviews

[emma · Rating 4 out of 5]

i love when books win awards and also i like them because now i'm basically on the nobel committee.

but more than that, i love complaining.

so a book that won a bunch of prizes and also i'm giving 3.5 stars is probably the closest i can get to heaven. (let's be real - i've written way too many rant reviews to get there.)

so i will say, since i'm headed where i am regardless, that there was a certain...flatness to this book. i can only describe it as when you buy a cup of coffee and expect it to be full, but with a suspicious feeling take the lid off and find an ample bit of room. (and i don't drink my coffee black, so there's no way they gave me room for milk.)

this felt a bit like going through the motions, and while it was my first gurnah book, i read through reviews from experienced readers of his and found agreement there. fortunately, this has the side effect of making me excited to continue with his works.

that combined with the fact that there was still a lot of wisdom here, and a killer ending.

bottom line: a book that reminds me i'm going to hell and drink my coffee with milk! but in a good way. kind of. complicatedly.

-----------------
tbr review

addicted to reading books that say I WON THE PRIZE THAT MEANS SMART PEOPLE READ ME in huge letters

(thanks to the publisher for the copy)

[Jenna ❤ ❀ ❤ · Rating 4 out of 5]

I hadn't heard of Abdulrazak Gurnah before he won this year's Nobel Prize for Literature. He was given this prestigious award for "his uncompromising and compassionate penetration of the effects of colonialism and the fate of the refugee in the gulf between cultures and continents".

In Gravel Heart, he does just that. Salim is a young man from Zanzibar who emigrated to London to further his education. There he is faced with many challenges. It's often difficult for young people to find their way and Salim is no exception. It is made more difficult because he moved to a new country with a different culture, where he knows no one but his charismatic and controlling uncle and his family. He struggles to do as his uncle wishes, wearing the clothes he chooses and attending business school. 

At first I enjoyed this book, when Salim was still a child growing up in Zanzibar. His parents separated and his father drew into himself, barely speaking to young Salim when he would bring him his meals each day. Salim, understandably, is confused by his silence, and neither of his parents explain why his father moved out. 

It might have been my mood that made me lose interest after Salim moved to London. At first I enjoyed reading about it but then it became repetitive..... Salim dating various women, Salim writing letters to his mother, Salim wishing he could study literature instead of business. 

Eventually he returned to Zanzibar and my interest piqued again, but not as high as in the beginning. Like I said, it might have been my mood preventing me from enjoying it more.

Abdulrazak Gurnah writes well and descriptively, portraying the immigrant experience and the confusion of living between two cultures. It's a story of loss and longing, of complicated familial relationships, and the confusing struggle of a young person to find their own way.

Three and a half stars rounded up.

[N · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Some people have a use in the world, even if it is only to swell a crowd and say yeah, and some people don't" (251).

A grim, heartbreaking novel that is filled with the themes Professor Gurnah has captured so well in other novels of his I have read.

“Gravel Heart” is the story of a young man named Salim trying to make sense of why he has suffered so much abuse and rejection.

First from his beloved mother and father, Saida and Masud; and by his charismatic uncle Amir, his mother's glamorous diplomat brother.

The novel opens in Professor Gurnah's native Tanzania and then weaves back and forth from Tanzania and England, spanning from the 1970s to the early 2000s.

The novel's first line opens with an unforgettable sentence, "My father did not want me. I came to that knowledge when I was quite young, even before I understood what I was being deprived of and a long time before I could guess the reason for it" (9).

It is this feeling of abandonment that establishes Salim as broken and defeated. His father has walked out on the family and his mother Saida has another husband- the mysterious Hakim. Hakim and Saida's daughter, Munira, Salim's half sister is still a child when Uncle Amir appears.

Uncle Amir makes Saida an offer she is reluctant to accept, but goes with: Salim will move to study in the UK. He will live alongside with his wife Aunt Asha, and his cousins.

Salim is terrified of London and it's cold winters. He becomes a failure to Uncle Amir's eyes and drops out of Business College to major in English. He does not know how to stand up for himself against his arrogant uncle and snobby Aunt, hobbled by shame and familial duty:

"Everything is complicated and questions simplify what is only comprehensible through intimacy and experience. Nor are people’s lives free from blame and guilt and wrong-doing, and what might be intended as simple curiosity may feel like a demand for a confession. You don’t know what you might release by asking a stupid question. It was best to leave people" (40).

As Salim comes of age in England living in different parts of the country- in Brighton, in London- he learns to navigate sex and relationships that start off in comedic heartbreak to cold aloofness as to protect and make his heart gravel- (an allusion to Shakespeare's "Measure for Measure"- in which it's plot will mirror that of Salim and his parents' life choices).

He becomes friendly with other black and brown communities whom are all living in the UK from island and Caribbean nations, from India, all assimilating themselves to a Western world that does not seem to want them around.

Salim navigates against the racism and the diaspora black skinned men Africans like himself experience from his white counterparts.

Through this, he finds that his communication with Saida has been fading over the years until her death brings him back to Tanzania.

Finally, after a reunion with his half sister Munira who now an adult- Salim finally confronts Baba who tells his side of the story: of his sacrifice having given Saida up. He recounts the betrayal that Uncle Amir and Asha have all played in Saida's misery, culminating in her decision to become Hakim’s concubine and wife:

“I have never been able to love again because shame emptied my body and left me without vitality. At a certain age, you don’t understand how long life is. You think it’s all over for you, but it’s not, not for a long time. You just don’t understand how little strength the body needs to keep on living, how it goes on doing so despite you" (248-49).

Salim learns that his life has mirrored that of his Mother's and Father's in exile, and an attempt to reconcile the sins of the past that are connected to class and sex that are deeply rooted in postcolonial trauma.

It's an intimate, solemn work of literature that illustrates the sadness of displacement, and feeling like you don't belong.

[merixien · Rating 4 out of 5]

Geçtiğimiz yıl, Afrika edebiyatından çok fazla kitap okuduğum için Gurnah’a karşı biraz önyargılarım vardı. Zira artık kalıplaşmış üç farklı temadan birisiyle( kabile, sömürge ya da batıya göç eden Afrikalı temaları) karşılaşacağımı düşünüyordum. Batıya göç kısmından biraz yakalıyor olsa da çok daha evrensel bir öyküyle karşılaştım. Elbette bunda Shakespeare uyarlaması olması etkili ancak yine de yazarın bunu muazzam bir şekilde yaptığını atlamamak gerekiyor. Hikayenin nereye gideceğini çok iyi biliyorsunuz, çünkü uyarlamadan haberiniz olmasa dahi o kadar çok Shakespeare vurgusu yapılıyor ki bir yerden sonra akış yönünü tahmin etmemeniz mümkün değil. Ki kitaba beş değil de dört yıldız verme sebebim de bu vurgu ve gözümüze sokulan Kısasa Kısas konusu.

Kurgunun akışını bu kadar net tahmin edebilseniz dahi kitaptan soğumuyorsunuz, çünkü Gurnah o kadar yalın ve etkileyici bir şekilde anlatmaya devam ediyor ki kitabın sonu ikinci plana düşüyor. Bu açıdan da neden Nobel’i aldığını çok iyi anlıyorsunuz. Elimde bir kaç kitabı daha var, onları da okumadan net bir şey söylemem zor olsa da, eğer yalın bir dille sıradan hikayelere gösteriş kazandırabilen yazarları seviyorsanız Gurnah ile mutlaka tanışın.

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 4 out of 5]

The 9th novel by the 2021 Nobel Prize Literature winner

From the Nobel Citation

In Gravel Heart (2017) Gurnah further develops his theme of a young person’s confrontation with evil and uncomprehending surroundings. This exciting and austerely recounted first-person narrative depicts the fate of the young Salim up until the conclusion’s terrifying revelation of a family secret kept from him but decisive for his entire trajectory as a rootless individual in exile. The book’s first sentence is a brutal declaration: “My father did not want me.” The title is a reference to Shakespeare’s drama Measure for Measure and the Duke’s words in the third scene of the fourth act: “Unfit to live or die! O gravel heart.” It is this double incapability that has become Salim’s fate.

Gurnah’s eight novel “The Last Gift” ends with what seems like a rather tongue in cheek ending where the son in the story (Jamal) sets out to write a short story “Another father story. Such a predictable immigrant subject”. A contemporary Guardian review of the book (by Giles Foden – himself very close to Gurnah) picked up on this and noted “It will be fascinating to see what Gurnah himself writes next. All of his previous novels, with which this book shares many complicities, concern immigrant experience in one way or another. Most directly confront the diaspora of Zanzibar …..But the irony with which he now treats the subject suggests that the sea breeze of Gurnah's inspiration is carrying him elsewhere.”

But of course sea breezes blow on to the shore and so it is perhaps not a surprise, albeit a disappointment, that Gurna’s inspiration carried him back to what feels like a re-write of many of the same ideas: exile from Zanzibar to England; a son with a Mother and (particularly) a Father with an undisclosed secret; and a secret which emerges over the course of the book – culminating in a final story telling by which time the secret seems more or less known already.

I think the Nobel citation’s “further develops his theme” seems to me a slightly sympathetic description of a novel which for me felt at times a little like “Gurnah-by-numbers”.

The story is told in the first person by Salim – and tells his lifestory most of it (from its opening brutal declaration) dominated by his apparent rejection by his father and particularly a key-incident when he is seven (in the 1970s), when his Father suddenly leaves home – giving up his government job in the water ministry (*) for a rather desultory existence trading on a market stall and seemingly giving up any engagement with his family. Salim and his mother and joined by his mother’s brother Amir, who in contrast to Salim’s father is prospering in the new Zanzibar – moving from the nascent tourist industry to the Foreign Ministry, a prestigious student programme in Dublin from where he returns with his even better connected girlfriend and soon wife Asha, and later has a diplomatic posting to London.

As Salim becomes a teenager he is forced to acknowledge that his Mother has a lover (and soon partner) – who turns out to be Asha’s brother Hakim, an important official. Hakim and Asha persuade him and his mother that Salim should go to London to live with them and study – but Salim’s lack of interest and subsequent failure in the Business Study course on which they insist he enroll and decision to study literature instead leads to a breech – and the middle part of the book traces Salim’s life in England (study in Brighton, government job in London), his various houses, friends and relationships.

This middle part of the book it has to be said gets rather wearing. Some of that is deliberate: Salim’s life is (like so many of Gurnah’s characters) an in between one – rooted neither in England or in Zanzibar, unable to really feel at home in the first but increasingly unable to even maintain any other than sporadic written contact with the second. As an aside Gurnah commonly uses letters (both sent and unsent) as a medium for exiled characters to convey their thoughts and also for us to see how they keep the truth of their life in exile from their family at home, which only further exacerbates their unease with that life and lessens their bond with their family. But I was not convinced by all of the story – in particular Salim’s various love affairs seemed to me unconvincing both in their number and in their individual detail (which is a shame as one of them is seen by Salim as pivotal – when an Indian girl is forced by her family to renounce their relationship – but by me as a reader as incidental).

The book culminates in a return to Zanzibar on the death of his mother (**), when Salim finally gets to hear his father’s story – a story whose first party voice switches to the father (and which I have to say – for something which effectively purports to be reported speech- is laid out with rather unconvincing eloquence and in the style of the novel itself).

(*) Note that this water ministry job later allows the Father to describe (as part of his story) the almost total breakdown of the island’s water colonial-era infrastructure (which of course in “Admiring Silence” is effectively the key symbol for the narrator of “Admiring Silence” of the shock of returning from his long exile in England)

(**) The death of Salim’s mother takes place when he is out of contact (actually for a ‘dirty weekend’ away) and so the first he finds out of it is when she is already buried several days later. Now this story is based on autobiographical detail – but happened to Gurnah (in his own words) in a “time before mobile phones. I was away in England somewhere, so until I got home nobody could tell me” – the issue I had here is that he chose to transpose the story to a time in Salim’s life when mobile phones did exist which makes the story less credible.

At the story’s culmination – Salim tells his father the plot of Shakespeare’s “Measure for Measure” (from which the book’s title and effectively plot is taken) and this leads to perhaps one of the strongest parts of the novel as, despite the clear parallels to his family’s story he has to admit “There was no Duke to put things right …………… Nor was there any role for you in the play Baba”. This links with an earlier reference to his father about how English literature misrepresented the complexity of other countries (as he finds out when he meets fellow exiles from those countries in London) that “That was how people like you and I came to know so much of the world, reading about it from people that despised us” – and picks up the themes of literature which effectively excludes or marginalizes the stories of the exiles and immigrants (particularly from African countries).

This is a theme which of course Gurnah both expands in his novels (for Gurnah colonialism and post-colonial England, particularly white England, is an exercise in exclusionary and self-justifying story telling which simply does not have a role for the exile/refugee or for the ex-colonial countries) and also seeks to directly address by his own distinctive contribution to the canon of English literature (in which importantly he writes his novels).

This contribution of course won him the Nobel Prize – a Prize I am increasingly realising feels justified less by his often-flawed individual novels than by their collective power and the intelligence, insight and importance of their themes and ideas.

[jo · Rating 3 out of 5]

i cannot say that i liked this book -- i don't know there is much to like, but more about this later -- but there are authors, and gurnah is one of them, that are so good, so established, so deep, that you read their books and cannot but find that the writing is full of wonder and wisdom. the sense i get is that these writers, writers who have been writing forever not to win prizes but to tell the truth about their countries, don't care about how they will be received. there is an inner compulsion, a story that needs to be told, and they sit down and write it. let the marketers market it.

the sentence that starts the book is deceiving. salim is not unloved by his father. what instead happens is that, at some point, his father moves out of the small, barebones family shack he shares with his wife and son and takes up living in almost complete mutism in the back of a friend's store. salim and salim's mother keep taking care of him by bringing him food, because the man has become pretty much unable to function. when he does speak, his words appear to be entirely nonsensical.

eventually salim becomes old enough to be sponsored by his maternal uncle, a functionary at the zanzibar embassy in london, as a foreign student in england. he leaves africa behind and becomes an immigrant -- or a refugee (where does the line lie between immigrants and refugees?).

a big chunk of the novel takes place in london and then brighton. i won't say much about this bit except that salim appears to be profoundly dislocated, both externally and internally. he can only hang out with other african or south asian students and has difficulty creating meaningful relationships with women. in spite of being gifted and precocious, he is unable to make anything of himself. the big promise of the west falls flat for him, mostly because he finds it an empty and unappealing promise, the taking up of which would require a renunciation of his soul.

by the end we learn what really happened to the father (a very nice payoff for the readers who have dragged themselves through the story of salim's misery), but this is something you have to find out for yourself.

i think salim's dislocation, incapacity to bond with anyone, incapacity to care, and yet fundamental kindness, are meant to be both a result of his father's (and, to some extent, mother's) rejection, and a reflection or embodiment of the corruption to which his country has fallen prey and of colonial brutality (the two being inextricably linked).

this book is ultimately a big critique of the west and in particular of english colonialism, of its having run roughshod for centuries over the lives of generations of brown-skinned people only to become the mecca to which these same people, lacking real "opportunity" in their own countries, are forced to flock in further humiliation.

it's a story of debasement, historical trauma, and the personal and global alienation forced by the west on the developing world.

i was really taken by the kindness quite a number of the novel's characters extend to each other. there are certainly evil people in this book, but there are many more people, mostly men (this is a book full of men) who are caring, tender and generous to a fault.

(thanks to netgalley and bloomsbury for an advance copy of this book.)

[Alexander Carmele · Rating 1 out of 5]

Schockierend zäh, diffus, orientierungslos erzähltes Familiendrama ohne Twist und Formwillen.

Inhalt: 2/5 Sterne (wurzelloses, trauriges Dahintreiben)
Form: 1/5 Sterne (radebrechend-zerstörerisch)
Komposition: 2/5 Sterne (reines, abstraktes Kalkül)
Leseerlebnis: 1/5 Sterne (fast unlesbar)

Ausführlicher, vielleicht begründeter auf kommunikativeslesen.com

Mit Das versteinerte Herz liegt nun auch der neunte Roman des Nobelpreisträgers für Literatur aus dem Jahr 2021, Abdulrazak Gurnah, in deutscher Sprache vor. Im Original 2017 erschienen, behandelt der Roman die Kindheit und Jugend Salim Masud Yahyas, dessen ersten Schritte in das Erwachsenenleben auf Sansibar, später in London und dann Brighton und lässt sich als Coming-of-Age-Roman betrachten, mit starkem Fokus auf die elterlichen, familiären Umstände des Aufwachsens und sexuellen Erwachens:

Während sie mir das Hemd aus dem Hosenbund zog und ihre Hand in meine Jeans schob, sagte eine [von den jungen Frauen auf den Partys], sie würde mit mir schlafen, wenn ich nicht schwarz wäre, aber da ich es nun mal sei, würde leider nichts daraus. Ich fragte sie, ob sie mit einem Chinesen schlafen würde. Sie überlegte kurz und bejahte, dann knutschte sie mich weiter, und ich leistete keine Gegenwehr, obwohl mein Ehrgefühl natürlich verlangt hätte, dass ich sie wegstoße und hoch erhobenen Kopfes gehe.

Salim sitzt zwischen allen Stühlen. Einerseits besitzt er die Möglichkeit, in England zu studieren, andererseits fühlt er sich schuldig, entwurzelt, von allen guten Geistern verlassen. Sein Vater vagabundiert in Kiponda herum, seine Mutter lebt als Zweitfrau eines Bürokraten, und sein Onkel, der Bruder seiner Mutter, strebt eine Karriere als Botschafter an. Das Familiendrama, die Scham, halten den Ich-Erzähler passiv. Er treibt vor sich hin, hat an nichts außer Sex und Literatur Freude. Nach und nach lüftet sich das Familiengeheimnis, die Geschehnisse, die zur Trennung der Eltern geführt haben, zur Distanz und Entfremdung, an der Salim leidet:

Inzwischen fühle ich mich hier fremder denn je. Ich hasse es, aber ich bleibe trotzdem. Ich komme mir wie ein Verräter vor, weiß aber nicht genau, wen ich verraten habe [...] Bei jedem unserer Abschiede hatte ich geglaubt, es sei das letzte Mal, aber an diesem milden Samstagmorgen saß ich schon wieder auf Rhondas Terrasse und wartete darauf, dass sie endlich aufwachte. Ich musste lächeln, und während ich mich fragte, wer von uns beiden der bedürftigere Mensch war, wurde mein Lächeln plötzlich traurig und selbstmitleidig.

Gurnah inszeniert einen kargen, nüchternen, hakeligen Ich-Erzähler, der Konjunktionen, Satzanschlüsse, Tempi und Modi verwechselt, unklar in der Zeit schwebt, mal wissend zurückblickt, mal stumpf spekuliert, obwohl er aus der Erzählposition die Geschehnisse bereits kennt. Mühsam wirkt der Spannungsaufbau, das Zurückhalten des ohnehin erwartbaren Geheimnis, das ärgerliche Zurückhalten bereits erhaltener Informationen, die immer wieder alle paar Seiten angedeutet, aber erst ganz am Ende in Zusammenhang gebracht werden.

An seinen rätselhaften Ratschlag konnte ich mich nicht mehr genau erinnern. Der Segen als Anfang der Liebe – oder war es andersherum? Es spielte keine Rolle mehr, das waren nur Worte, und auf lange Sicht machten Worte niemanden unglücklich.

Keine der Figuren überzeugt, weder der Onkel, noch der Vater, noch die Mutter, am meisten noch die Großmutter, bei der die Mutter aufwächst. Der Clou der Komposition liegt an der Parallellesung von William Shakespeares Maß für Maß , nur hier statt als Komödie als Farce, nämlich ohne Isabellas Happy End für Saida, ohne Angelos Herabsetzung für Amir. Die Erzählperspektive leidet an Starrheit. Die erfundenen Briefe wirken langweilig und unkommunikativ. Masud, der Vater, als Märtyrer wirkt wie der Magistrat aus Warten auf die Barbaren , nur ohne Sendungsbewusstsein; und der Onkel Amir wie Peter Munk aus Wilhelm Hauffs Das kalte Herz , nur ohne Lehrgeld bezahlen zu müssen. Die Komposition, das Pastiche aus bekannten Motiven, bleibt rationalistisch kalt zusammengestellt und ohne innere Perspektivierung aneinandergereiht.

Abdulrazak Gurnah zeigt hier der ästhetischen Form unversöhnlich die kalte Schulter und erklärt der poetischen Dynamik den Krieg: Sprache selbst erscheint als Feind und wird zerhackt. Als Dokument überzeugend, als Literatur nicht.


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Stichwortartige Details (zur Erinnerung für mich):

Inhalt: Sansibar, aber kaum beschrieben. London, kaum erkennbar. Hauptsächlich innerfamiliäres, und die sexuelle Not, nicht genügend Frauen zu bekommen. Untreue, das Thema. Spiegelung der Tragik, Heimat zu verlieren, keine Heimat zu haben. Unsicherheit. Luftlosigkeit. Verwirrung, Scham, Orientierungslosigkeit. Plot aber ärgerlich in die Länge gezogen, kein Eklat, kein Twist, vorhersehbar; jedoch mit gewissen kaltem Willen zur nackten Wahrheit. --> 2 Sterne

Form: Brachiale, rudimentäre Sprache; bewusst verkürzt, inhaltlich unrund, teilweise sogar falsche Zeitanschlüsse, zu viele Hilfsverben; die Erzählstimmen gleichen sich alle, egal wer spricht; keine besonderen Wörter; nüchtern, existenzialistisch, radebrechend. --> 1 Stern

Komposition: Es gibt eine Komposition, nämlich die Aufklärung hinauszuschieben, am Ende erst den Vater, den verstummten, zu Wort kommen zu lassen. Das wirkt aufgesetzt, und gewollt, und unnötig, da das Familiengeheimnis keines mehr ist, sobald schon im ersten Kapitel die Halbschwester des Ich-Erzähleris zur Welt kommt. Schlimme, beinahe drangsalerische Erzählhemmnis, ohne Überschwang, reines Kalkül, das nicht aufgeht. --> 2 Sterne

[Eylül Görmüş · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nihayet Tanzanyalı yazar Abdulrazak Gurnah ile tanışabildim. Geç kalmış bir tanışma, farkındayım ama şu Nobel tantanası bir geçsin, sular bir durulsun istedim ve kendisinin en övülen kitaplarından biri olan Kumdan Yürek ile konuya daldım. Öncelikle - keşke önsözde kitabın bu biçimde anlatılmaması gerektiğini anlayabilsek. Yayınevinin kitaba ön söz olarak koyduğu metin tam anlamıyla bir son söz aslında, zira öykünün en kritik noktalarının temiz bir özetini alıyoruz. Çok can sıkıcı. Okumayanlar sona saklasın diye önemle belirtme gereği duyuyorum.

Shakespeare'in ünlü Kısasa Kısas oyunundan ilhamla yazılmış bir roman bu. Gurnah'ın dili epey sade ve akışkan, anlattığı şeylerin bir kısmı bize çok tanıdık. (Örneğin devletin beyaz 'Datsun'larla aldığı ve geri dönmeyen insanlar... Sahi, niye hep beyaz olur bu araçlar?) Tanıdık olmayan kısımları da var elbette... Sömürgeleştirilmiş, nihayet bağımsızlığını kazandıktan sonra da asla rahat bırakılmamış, hep bazı "büyük abi"lerin oyun sahası olmuş, biçim verilmeye çalışılmış, eğilmiş, bükülmüş, kendi kimliğini bulmasına izin verilmemiş bir ülkede kim olduğunu aramak - sanırım bana en çok dokunan kısmı bu oldu anlatının. Kitap boyunca kovaladığımız büyük sır bir yana, üniversite çağına gelince "daha iyi bir gelecek için" ülkesini terkedip İngiltere'ye giden anlatıcımız Salim'in (ki hikayenin bu kısmı epeyce otobiyografik, Gurnah da aynı yolu izlemiş) hiçbir yere ait olamayışındaki hüzün, ailesinin de bu köksüzlüğü kuşaklar boyunca taşımak zorunda kalmış olması, adeta genlerine işlemiş bir "bulunamama" halinden muzdarip oluşlarını çok güzel anlatmış. Ve tabii her tür toplumsal karmaşada en ağır yükü hep kadınların üstlenmek zorunda kalışını, en büyük çileleri onların çekişini...

Dilini dediğim gibi sevdim ama benim zevkime göre biraz fazla basit kaçtığını da söylemek zorundayım. Bu kadar dokunaklı bir hikaye insanın içine işleyecek biçimde de yazılabilirdi. İlla aforizmalara da gerek yok bunu yapmak için ama bazı duyguların ve ikilemlerin çok daha iyi aktarılabileceği kanaatindeyim, öykü buna müsaade ediyor çünkü.

Sevdim, Gurnah'a devam edeceğim ama kendisi favori yazarlarım arasına girecek gibi gözükmüyor şimdilik.

[Marc Lamot · Rating 3 out of 5]

Nobel Prize winnar Abdulrazak Gurnah combines a coming-of-age story with that of a family drama, an evocation of life in an African country after decolonization, and the life of a young migrant in England. Ingeniously done and smoothly narrated. Through the main character Salim, growing up in Zanzibar, Gurnah offers a lot of introspection, drawing into the events Salim has to undergo and the emotions of alienation and abandonment he feels. In England he succeeds in taking his fate into his own hands, but only at the end does it become clear how much his life is dominated by an event from his youth. Gurnah has also succeeds in drawing a clear parallel between the abuse of power in decolonized Africa and the previous abuse of power under the English colonizer himself. Because of the smooth narration you hardly notice how much the author has put into this book, up to and including the Shakespearean plot.
So, this definitely worth it. Only, at the end of the book, there is something artificial about the very detailed and meticulously constructed story of Salim's father, who until then had been but a silent shadow. It's almost as if this book is composed of two different stories. A great read this is, though perhaps not Gurnah's master piece.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

Recently I saw a headline where the Abdulrazak Gurnah said that writers should win a prize, not because they are from Africa, but because of the quality of their writing. Of course the prize he is referring to is the Nobel Prize in Literature which he just won. A not bad prize.

I had never read his work before, let alone, I had not even heard of him before (a sad commentary on myself). He is from Africa, Zanzibar off the coast of Tanzania, but has lived most of his life in England. I am happy to say that the quality of writing is very fine.

No, scratch that. The writing is excellent. Poignant, beautiful, deep and very enjoyable to read. However, the story in very complicated but don’t worry, the way it unravels is brilliant.

Family’s are complicated. As a child, you really never understand why your parents do certain things. It makes sense, as you are a child but sometimes what they do can have a profound outcome on your life. Your future can change in a flash but you never understand why. You grow up not realizing how these choices impacted your future. Toss in immigration to another country, being away from your family and things can really get tossed up in the air.

Who are you and what happened in the past can be a closely guarded secret. Unraveling the past is no easy chore and some of us will never know why.

Having said this, I can’t remember when I was so affected by the events in a book. This was one of those book. One can’t believe what happened. It shakes you to the core. It is truly remarkable in scope.

Perfect title. Full five stars.

[Hakan · Rating 4 out of 5]

romanı batı sanatı yapan ve hep öyle kalmasını sağlayan şey, bence, romanın her şeyden önce bir yapı olması. tasarlanan, kurulan bir şey roman. öyle olmasa, diyelim sadece hikaye anlatmak olsa, güzel ya da etkili söz söylemek olsa farklı olurdu her şey. batı dışında daha "güzel" yazılırdı roman. kumdan yürek bu anlamda güzel bir roman. cümle cümle bakarsak, güzel söz, güçlü söz olarak bakarsak, hikayenin etkileyiciliği, dokunaklılığı olarak bakarsak güzel.

hislerle değil akılla değerlendirmeye başladığımızda ise durum değişiyor. ne gösteriyor, ne anlatıyor bu roman?..duygulandık, üzüldük ama ne için?..anlamı, meselesi, sorusu ne romanın?..bu romanın özünde ne var?..iyi romanlarda bu soruların kolayca cevalanmayacağını, bu soruların okura bir düşünce yolu açacağını biliyoruz. ama kumdan yürek'te bu yok: kumdan yürek'in özü yıkım. önce, kabullenme ve teslimiyetle yıkım. sonra, yıkımla kabullenme, teslimiyet ve yine yıkım.

bu noktada kumdan yürek'in bir shakespeare uyarlaması olduğunu belirtmek gerek. gurnah shakespeare'nin komedi ile trajedi arasındaki "problem oyunlarından" kısasa kısas'ın dünyasını değiştirerek ve net trajedi olarak yeniden sunuyor. bir ailenin, bir "sır" etrafındaki hikayesi: aile özünde iyi kalpli insanlardan, tam da aristoteles'in tragedya için ideal olarak belirlediği iyiye yakın insanlardan oluşuyor ve o aileden hiç kimse, sophokles'in oidipus'unun direnişi kadar, dünyanın en talihsiz insanının en umutsuz direnişi kadar olsun direnmiyor.

gurnah'ın kumdan yürek'i okuyanların iyi insanların yıkımını kaderleri olarak görüp üzülmelerini istediğini düşünmüyorum elbette. ama baştaki yapı meselesine dönüp söylersek gurnah'ın romanında ikilemler, karşıtlıklar, mücadeleler, direnç noktaları yok. sorgulama, hesaplaşma, yüzleşme, hikaye çok ama çok müsaitken yok derecesinde cılız, yok. hikayedeki "sır" bile aslında herkesin bildiği bir sır ve böyle bir sırrın çözülmesi için bir başka kader, ölüm, bekleniyor. hal böyleyken ne söylenebilir. "bazı insanlar günahlarıyla yükselir, bazıları faziletle yere düşer"mi?..belki.

kişisel olarak belirtmiş olayım, romanın "güzelliğine" verebileceğim en yüksek puanı veriyorum. fazladan bir yıldız gurnah'ın uyarlama olmayan bir romanını okuyana kadar ödünç. gurnah'ın beş üzerinden altı yıldızlık bir roman yazmış olabileceğini ya da yazabileceğini düşünüyorum. fazladan bir yıldızım ise gurnah'a ve insanlarına "kalben" yakın hissedebildiğim için karşılıksız.

[Matthew Ted · Rating 3 out of 5]

19th book of 2022.

3.5. My first Gurnah and like many others, I never would have read him if he hadn't won the Nobel Prize last year. I enjoyed this on the whole and thought it was a good story, but it felt far longer than it is, perhaps a novel of 300+ pages, but that might have been down to the small text of my edition. The ending felt anticlimactic and I wondered about the focus of the story and why Gurnah wrote it as he did. It's really a book about family and how as a child, we don't understand the dynamics between adults. It's something I've been thinking about myself recently, oddly enough; the other day I was thinking about how I never knew some of my grandparents as 'adults', I never knew them as they were as 'people', or how my parents were with them, how my mother was with her mother, etc. As children, all that stuff just sort of passes you by.

Salim grows up knowing there's something between his parents but he doesn't know what. When we reach the end of the novel, his father finally tells the whole story to him in one long continuous monologue pretty much to the end of the book. There's no other way he could have done it, really, being first person from Salim's perspective, but it meant the ending was slow and all reported to us in mostly dry dialogue. The middle of the book concerns Salim leaving Zanzibar to go to England with his uncle, first London and then Brighton. The latter section of the book was particularly enjoyable for me as I live in a town about 10 miles from Brighton and go there a lot and know it well. The writing was clear and well-constructed but no sentences bowled me over, I was hoping to be more impressed by the prose. Above all, Gravel Heart is just a good story with many sad events that shape Salim's life as he grows up, heartbreak, isolation, emigration, and so on. I'll try and read some other Gurnah's before the year is out because (1) I still need to form an opinion and (2) I've never learnt massively about England's colonisation, which, having been through 20 years or so of English schooling/university, is quite shocking to realise. Lines like ''The British never left anyone in peace and squeezed everything good out of everybody and took it home'', really made me want to know about my country's past better. School was just Saxons and the Blitz. I have a general idea from books I've read already and have poked around and learnt things by osmosis, but I want to make a conscious effort to really dig into it these coming years. It's a shame it isn't taught, I feel like it's something that should be taught, otherwise it appears to be a form of shying away from it.

[Michelle · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is my second book by this author, and he really has a distinct style.

Like the previous novel I read, this book is very descriptive, and dilly dallies all over the place and we are given far more information than we would ever need however it does create an atmosphere which absorbs you. At times, you could almost smell the scenes being described.

Set between Zanzibar and London, this is the story of Salim and his family secrets. I was pretty invested in the characters here and how their lives were playing out.

I liked this. It was a decent read.

Three stars.

[John Gilbert · Rating 4 out of 5]

An amazing book. Beautifully written by the Nobel Prize winner. I'd never heard of him or his books before this. I now know more about Zanzibar than ever before and the experience of Salim moving to England with his Uncle and the difficulties of African immigrants living there are well presented.

This is a sad story, Salim is not connected at all with his father, then away from his mother and sister in England where his beloved Uncle is not who he thought he was. As sad story well told and worth the story told. Very impressive.

[Erkan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gurnah'dan okuduğum üçüncü romandı ve aralarında beğenmediğim olmadı. Aslında romanlarını benzer üslup ve matematikle yazıyor. Zanzibar'dan İngiltere'ye göçen erkek bir ana karakter, birinci tekil şahıs ağzından anlatılan bir hikaye, mülteci ya da göçmen olmanın zorlukları, insanın köklerinin onun peşinin bırakmaması, hesaplaşma için memlekete geri dönüş, Zanzibar'ın çalkantılı siyahi tarihi, Müslüman bir toplum olan Zanzibar'ın kültürü...Ayrıca bu romanda sonunda neler olacağını da saklamamış yazar, öyle bir derdi yok. Buna rağmen okuduğum hiçbir romanını elimden bırakmak istemedim. Yaşanan dram ve trajedi ve tertemiz bir dil kullanımına eşlik eden derli toplu anlatım sayesinde hiç sıkılmadan büyük bir keyifle okudum bu romanı da diğerleri gibi..

[Hulyacln · Rating 4 out of 5]

İçinize bir kurt düştüğünde, nerede ne  durumda olduğunuzun bir önemi kalmaz. O kurt içinizde bir delik açmaya başlamıştır bir kere.Gittikçe derinleşir oyuk, aklınızı-kalbinizi susturacak/sakinleştirecek bir cevap bulana kadar da devam eder..
Salim de Londra'ya gidiyor, gözünü açtığı Zanzibar'dan yola çıkıp. Arkasında ailesini bırakıyor ama yanına büyük bir şüphe tohumu alıyor.
O tohumu Londra, dayısı, okulu, sevmediği bölümü, sınıfsal farklılıklar büyütüyor.
Bolca mektup yazıyor, bolca okuyor Salim. Giderek gerçeğe de yaklaşıyor, o bilmese de biz okurken hissediyoruz.
.
Abdulrazak Gurnah ile tanışma kitabımdı Kumdan Yürek. Shakespeare'in Kısasa Kısas'ını referans alan bu eseri genel olarak sevdim. (Bilhassa Salim'in babasıyla iki gece süren konuşmalarını, Salim'in kendini bulma çabasını)
Yazarın diğer eserlerini de okumak için meraklandığımı söylemeliyim.
.
Mehmet Deniz Öcal çevirisi, Barış Özkul önsözüyle. Kapak resmi ise Emmanuel Ekong Ekefrey'in Kararlılık isimli çalışması~~

[Raul · Rating 3 out of 5]

When Abdulrazak Gurnah was announced as the Nobel winner for literature last year, shamefully, neither I nor most of my friends were familiar with his work. It was unusual because Gurnah wasn't really obscure as a lot of articles during that period stated. He had been shortlisted for and had won other prestigious prizes before the Nobel. An important function of literary prizes being that they bring to our attention books we didn't know existed–as well as Gurnah being a prominent scholar of African literature, therefore it was ridiculous that even though the name was familiar to some of us, only one person I knew had read his work (one book) before the announcement.

The reader follows Salim, the protagonist, from his childhood in Zanzibar to his immigrating to Britain. A coming of age story–that's enmeshed with a family story–that tracks the protagonist's life through his wanderings and wonderings. It required some patience on my part as it meanders at parts. There are many people that come in and out of the story (as it happens mostly in life), and this could be classified as a quiet book, despite the turbulence now and then, in some ways.

Reading this book it became clear why his work hadn't come to our attention as it ought to. The elegiac inward prose here contrasted with the declarative and symbolic which is favoured amongst those who arrange school curricula, where a lot of us learn about African literature (trademarked, obviously). There's little room for decoding and unravelling, little room for picking apart words and actions and characters to find hidden meaning, no preaching or moralizing, and instead wonderful prose that works at those familiar themes of colonization, power and class struggle, immigration, among others. These themes do not take primary place in the story with their existence mainly for the characters to find their ways through, but as the conditions they are that human beings grapple with. I've been informed that this is not the author's best work and so this will be the first, hopefully, of more books I read by him.

[Stitching Ghost · Rating 3 out of 5]

The last 30% of the book were pretty great but I felt like there was a lot of lengths where there really wasn't much of anything of interest happening or being said just rather mundane events and maybe I just missed the point?

[Ashwin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gravel Heart is a quietly paced novel, that creates inroads into the life of Salim, from his childhood in Zanzibar through his unpleasant days as an immigrant in England.
At first glance, home appears to be a relatively uncomplicated concept, a kind of universal value that we associate with familiarity and comfort. But within Gurnah's latest novel, home has a discordant note – that of guilt, blame, dubiety and secrets. Gurnah establishes this immediately at the beginning of his book in spare, precise text:

"My father did not want me. I came to that knowledge when I was quite young, even before I understood what I was being deprived of and a long time before I could guess the reason for it."
"I slept in the same room as my parents and immediately registered my father's absence, but when I asked after him my mother told me that he had gone away for a few days. It was the beginning of a series of important lies which my mother would tell me for the next many years".

Salim struggles to comprehend the complexities of his parents' relationship and, when offered the opportunity to leave home for England to live with his uncle Amir, he takes it. As the story switches from the eastern seaboard of Africa to the cosmopolitan urban world of London, it reiterates several of the most recurring themes of Gurnah’s novels: migrancy, cultural displacement, and identity. I struggled a bit with the book, as I find it difficult to engage with a narrator that appears passive, experiencing events rather than participating in them. However, Abdulrazak Gurnah's luminous prose sucks the reader into his characters' world and holds their attention with his ability to speak of the heart, revealing people in all their grittiness.

[Stephanie Anze · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5 stars rounded to 3

Salim has a complicated childhood. At one point he lives with his mom, dad and uncle Amir in a humble dwelling in Zanzibar. One day, without previous notice, his dad packs up his things and moves out. Stranger still, Saida (his mother) meets with a strange man often but offers no explanation. When he is older, his uncle Amir (now a diplomat) sponsors him and brings him to live with him and his family to London. Though Salim does his best to please his uncle, tensions arise and secrets that had been bruried come to light.

This is a tricky book to rate. While the prose is nicely written and there are aspects of the novel I liked, generally speaking, I did not like this book. With 1970's Zanzibar as the background, I initially thought this to be historical ficton but this work is more character driven. I would have loved more information on the British colonialism in Zanzibar for that is not an area I am not exactly familiar with. The opening line intrigued me but I found it to be quite misleading as well. The novel deals with displacement, migration and belonging. The main topic, though, appears to be family, betrayal and secrets. The build-up and eventual reveal of Salim's father secret, I did find to be worth the wait. Having said this, the characters were quite flawed (particularly the uncle, the nerve of this guy in critizing Salim when he was hardly a model house guest himself!). As a whole, I found the narrative distant, detached and difficult to become fully invested in. Maybe I am just not accustomed to this author's particular style. All and all, this book was different than I expected.

[Sine · Rating 4 out of 5]

nobel marias'a mı gitsin, ernaux'ya mı gitsin derken hiç tanımadığım abdulrazak gurnah'a gidince hayli şaşırmıştım geçen sene. gerçi yakın zamanda nobel alan yazarlardan tokarczuk'la o kadar anlaşamadık ki, hani bir arkadaşınız sizi "çok iyi anlaşacaksınız" diye başka bir arkadaşıyla tanıştırır ve birbirinden zerre hoşlanmamaktan kaynaklı elektrikle yüklenir ortam... hah, işte o derece anlaşamadığımız için gurnah'a bir miktar önyargılıydım, ama shakespeare adaptasyonu diyince gardım düştü. bir de bu kitap kuzenimden hediye gelince, ki aklımdaki de bunu okumaktı, bana sadece gidip kısasa kısas'ı alıp okumak kaldı.

gerçekten iyi bir adaptasyon kumdan yürek. kısasa kısas'ın çok basit ve çok eski bir hikayesi var aslında: bir kadının "namus"unun sevdikleri için kullanılacak, harcanacak bir şey olması, ya da olmaması. kumdan yürek'i de bu hikayenin merkezinde olmayan çocuğun anlatısı ve hayatı üzerine kurmuş gurnah. kısasa kısas'ta oyunun başlarında öğrendiğiniz skandalı bu kitapta uzun süre tahmin ediyorsunuz. çok yalın bir dili var, ve bu yalın diliyle ağdalı cümleler kurmak için uğraşmaya gerek duymadan sizi o çocuğun derdine gayet güzel ortak ediyor. üstelik hayatını anlattığından, bir olaylar dizisi olmasına rağmen basite kaçmamayı başarmış. bütün bu "olaylar" salim'in başına gelirken siz onun neler hissettiğini de, nasıl yalnız, mutsuz, kimsesiz hissettiğini de anlayabiliyorsunuz. bu anlamda çok mutlu etti kitap beni. bu tür, basite dönüşmeye çok müsait sade dil/olaylı kurgu birlikteliğinden edebi bir zenginlik çıkarabilmek büyük başarı. bu arada zanzibar'a ve hatta bazı başka afrika ülkelerine dair bayağı bir şey de öğreniyorsunuz, üstelik orada doğmuş ve yaşamış birinin bakış açısından.

dün "sonunda kötü bir sürpriz olmazsa çok öveceğim bu kitabı" demiştim. aslında kötü bir şey değil, ama sonlarda kısasa kısas oyunundan alenen bahsedilmesi beni biraz üzdü. bu böyle gönderme olarak kalsa daha iyi olurdu, zaten kitapta biraz ilerleyince anlıyorsunuz oyunun neresine ve hangi karakterlerle gönderme yapıldığını. bu da olmasa dört başı mamur bir kitap olurmuş.

göçmenliğe, aidiyet duygusuna, ve ne işe yaradığına dair sürekli kendi kendine kafa yoran herkese tavsiye edebileceğim bir kitap.

[Krystal · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such superb writing! This novel delved into a range of complex issues with a gentleness of prose. Thanks to this author's talent, I was able to enjoy both the plot and nuanced storytelling.

[Dagio_maya · Rating 4 out of 5]

”...e io ero il detrito delle loro vite disordinate.”

Del premio Nobel Abudrazak Gurnah (2021) avevo letto solo Paradiso, troppo poco per tracciare delle linee ma sono comunque rimasta colpita dal fatto che entrambi i romanzi abbiano come un bambino tradito (in maniera totalmente differente) dai propri genitori.
Un tradimento fatto di menzogne e poi un viaggio da affrontare da soli.
Scoprirò solo leggendo altro se è una connessione unicamente fra queste due opere o tratteggia una qualche connotazione continua di contenuti.


”Mio padre non mi voleva. Arrivai a questa consapevolezza quand’ero molto piccolo, ancora prima di capire cosa stavo perdendo e molto tempo prima di poterne immaginare la ragione. “

Cuore di ghiaia comincia così.
In due righe si sente già quell'odore insistente di romanzo profondamente triste.
Un rifiuto, un distacco paterno che Salim ancora bambino subisce senza spiegazione alcuna.

Lasciato alla protezione materna e all’esuberanza dello zio Amir che vive con loro, Salim cerca di carpire briciole di verità negate.



Il romanzo è strutturato in tre parti: la prima a Zanzibar dove nasce e cresce durante gli anni della Rivoluzione. Una nuova compagine di governanti mentre sventola bandiere socialiste rivela corruzione e giochi di potere profondamente crudeli.
Mentre la madre decide di sposarsi con un altro uomo, a 17 anni Salim partirà per Londra con lo zio Amir e la moglie.
E’ il momento delle scelte, della crescita per un ragazzo che in realtà sembra interrotto, incapace di darsi una vera e propria forma.
Farà le sue scelte, crederà di essere libero ma la catena dei ricordi con strattoni cadenzati lo riporterà alla realtà

Passano gli anni e Salim accumula in un cassetto lettere mai spedite:

”Caro Baba,
vivo con la sensazione di sgretolarmi. Non so come parlare delle cose che mi rattristano, del senso di perdita che mi accompagna sempre, dell’impressione di sbagliare. E forse nessuno sa come chiedere. Anche chi potrebbe averlo fatto, non sa come indagare su quello che tormenta uno come me..”

Finché arriva il momento in cui tornare a Zanzibar ed è tempo di aprire porte chiuse da troppo tempo..

Mai titolo fu più azzeccato.
Il cuore e quindi la sfera emotiva e riempito di ghiaia e la ghiaia cos’è?
“un materiale inerte, non friabile, non idrosolubile che, provenendo dalla frantumazione di roccia”
Insomma, nulla potrà sciogliere questo peso e quest’aria fatalista e ineluttabile pesa come un macigno.

Un romanzo di profonda malinconia ma scritto meravigliosamente.

”Mi sentivo sull’orlo di qualcosa di decisivo e non avevo idea di essere solo l’ennesimo innocente che veniva infilato nel meccanismo.”

[Özer Öz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bu kitaba bu kadar az yorum ve değerlendirme olması şaşırtıcı, sanıyorum şimdilik böyle.

Nobel Komitesi onu "Kültürler ve kıtalar arasında sömürgeciliğin etkilerini ve sığınmacıların kaderini ödünsüz ve merhametle ele alması" sebebiyle ödüle layık görüldü.

"Söyledikleri tamamen doğru ama ben onların açıklamalarında ifade etmediği başka birkaç şey de eklemek isterim. Ben gerçekten insanların hayatlarına, acıyla nasıl mücadele ettiğine ve onların şefkatine nezaketine derinlemesine ilgi duyarım."

Kolay okunan bir tarzı olan Günah'ı bir an önce okuyun beğenirsiniz. Henüz bilinirliği az olsa da artacak.

[William2]

Gurnah is especially dense. I doubt he can be read quickly. Definitely not an airplane or beach read. But for careful readers like myself, he might be just a thing. Literary fiction. I really liked his most recent novel Afterlives, too.

A fan of coming of age novels I am not. I have long loathed books about children. Proust’s Marcel among them. But it has just occurred to me: a miserable child telling his or her story? Yes, I’m there!

[Meltem Sağlam · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kumdan Yürek, Sessizliğe Hayranlık ve Deniz Kenarında romanlarından sonra okuduğum üçüncü Abdulrazak Gurnah romanı.

Yine bir göç hikayesi. Yine Londra’ya eğitim görmek amacıyla giden ve göçmen olma sorunlarıyla karşı karşıya kalan, diğer bir çok göçmen gibi yavaş yavaş kentin ‘öğüttüğü’ kişilerden biri olmaya başlayan kahramanın hikayesi ile birlikte, ailesinin gizemli hikayesini de anlamaya çalışıyoruz.

Diğer iki romanında olduğu gibi etkileyici bir kurgu ve akıcı bir anlatımın yanısıra kitabın son sayfasına kadar çözülmeyi bekleyen gizem var.

Bu romanda az da olsa bazı dilbilgisi hataları bulunuyor. Müge Günay’ın Abdulrazak Gurnah çevirisini daha çok sevdim.

Severek okudum. Ama üç roman içinde beni en çok etkileyenin, ilk okuduğum Sessizliğe Hayranlık romanı olduğunu söyleyebilirim.


“… sonuçta insanı uzun vadede mutsuz eden şeyler kelimelerde değillerdi. İnsanı mutsuz eden anılardı, solmak bilmeyen, yerinden oynamayan karanlık anlar…”, sf; 192.

[Leylak Dalı · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kitap Türkçe'de "Kumdan Yürek" adıyla yay��nlanmış. Henüz yeni basıldığı için Goodreads'da bulamadım, ben tabii ki Türkçesini okudum. Salim'in Zanzibar'dan Londra'ya uzanan 30 yıllık öyküsü ve bu öykünün içinde bir aile sırrı saklı. Yazar önsözde belirtildiği gibi Shakespeare'in "Kısasa Kısas" oyununu kendince yorumlamış. Adı da oyundan alıntı: "Ne yaşamaya. ne ölmeye uygun! Ah, kumdan yürek". Okunası...

[Come Musica · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Quante sofferenze occupavano il povero Baba in quei giorni. Ma l’uomo mangiato dalle tarme che era stato non era quello con cui mi ero trovato fino a un paio di giorni prima, quando avevo deciso di tornare in Inghilterra. Avrei dovuto restare. A cosa serviva uno come me per questa Inghilterra? Ma in fondo a cosa serviva uno come mio padre in qualunque posto? C’è chi serve a qualcosa, nel mondo, se non altro a ingrandire una folla e a dire sììì, e c’è chi non serve a niente.”

Questo è il terzo romanzo del premio Nobel per la Letteratura 2021, Abdulrazak Gurnah.

Mi sono chiesta il perché del titolo. La ghiaia è un materiale "non friabile, non idrosolubile (come invece è, ad esempio, il gesso), che, provenendo dalla frantumazione di roccia compatta per azione naturale, ha subìto un'ulteriore azione meccanica abrasiva da parte di acqua e ghiaccio, con conseguente arrotondamento degli spigoli e dei bordi (ciottolo). In mancanza di questa azione abrasiva, si hanno spigoli acuti, ed il materiale si denomina pietrisco. Per come avviene la formazione della ghiaia, essa presenta una buona resistenza al gelo e a compressione."
Un cuore non spigoloso, quindi, che sa restistere al gelo e che a sua volta è stato eroso dagli eventi della vita.

“Ascoltami. Apri gli occhi nel buio e ricordati delle tue benedizioni. Non aver paura dei posti bui nella tua testa, altrimenti la rabbia ti oscurerà la vista.”

Il cuore del giovane protagonista, Salim, impara a diventare di ghiaia, perché le sue convinzioni piano piano si frantumano e se dapprima pensa che "i padri non sono sempre facili, soprattutto se a loro volta sono cresciuti senza l’amore del padre, perché in questo caso tutto quello che sanno li portava a capire che i padri dovevano far andare le cose come volevano, in un modo o nell’altro. Inoltre i padri, come tutti, devono affrontare l’inesorabilità con cui procede la vita, e hanno il loro fragile io da lenire e sostenere, e devono esserci molti momenti in cui hanno a malapena la forza necessaria per questo, men che meno riserve d’amore per il bambino spuntato chissà come all’improvviso."

Salim scoprirà pian piano la verità su suo padre, sul perché lui se ne fosse andato, quando lui era un bambino...

Alla fine del romanzo, Salim capirà che sua madre e suo padre, nella loro vita, hanno compiuto delle scelte e non si sono sottratti alle conseguenze da esse determinate. Attraverso la loro storia, Salim dà voce a tutte le storie di quelli che sono stati vittime del colonialismo e lo fa senza dare giudizi, ma semplicemente narrando i fatti.

“Ascoltami: io non sono stato da nessuna parte, ma quando viaggi tieni l’orecchio vicino al tuo cuore.”

[Sinem A. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dilinde çok özgün birşey olmamakla birlikte Shakespeare in "kısasa kısas" oyununun özgün bir yorumu olmuş kitap. Tabi biz bunu son bölümlere kadar çok anlamasak da tüm düğümler son kısımda çözülüyor. Merak duygusu yer yer kaybolsa da sonunda hikaye kotarılmış. Genel evrensel sorunlara ve yerel sorunlara benzer mesafeden bakan yazarın sorunları anlatımı da fena değil bence.

[Czarny Pies · Rating 3 out of 5]

This work possesses no true literary qualities but it has some very interesting things to say about the immigrant life in contemporary England and the evolution of post colonial Africa. Life in England is very bleak for the protagonist Salim where he is trapped in the lowest socio-economic level of society. Salim still finds that he is happier in his new country than in his native Zanzibar which is run by Marxist gangsters who sexually exploit the young girls and married women of the nation on a routine basis.

In the final chapter, Gurnah explains that Zanzibar is like the like the Vienna of Shakespeare's "Measure for Measure" the difference being that in the play the Duke ruling the city intervenes to protect the virtuous women and set all things right whereas in the Zanzibar the injustices persist. Gurnah's thesis is thought provoking and highly distressing. One hopes that the reality is less atrocious.