Close Sesame

Variations on the Theme of An African Dictatorship #3

by Nuruddin Farah

Farah's landmark Variations on the Theme of an African Dictatorship trilogy is comprised by the novels Sweet and Sour Milk , Sardines , and Close Sesame. In this volume, the third and final book in the series, the characters are deeply entwined in the waking nightmare of a police state. An old man finds himself poised in mortal combat with an elusive and cunning enemy in an atmosphere where the distinction between public and private justice is always obscured.

Close Sesame is a novel that offers "an eloquent indictment of the tyrannies committed both under Islamic law and in the name of Socialism" ( The Observer ).

Genres: Africa, African Literature, Fiction, Somalia

256 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1983

About the author

Nuruddin Farah (Somali: Nuuradiin Faarax, Arabic: نور الدين فرح‎) is a prominent Somali novelist. Farah has garnered acclaim as one of the greatest contemporary writers in the world, his prose having earned him accolades including the Premio Cavour in Italy, the Kurt Tucholsky Prize in Sweden, the Lettre Ulysses Award in Berlin, and in 1998, the prestigious Neustadt International Prize for Literature. In the same year, the French edition of his novel Gifts won the St Malo Literature Festival's prize. In addition, Farah is a perennial nominee for the Nobel Prize in Literature.

Reviews

[Bren · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think this is my favorite Farah novel so far. It does not have quite the incredible lyricism of Maps, but there is also something to be said for clarity. Published in 1983, the final installment of the Variations on the Theme of An African Dictatorship trilogy, it tells the story of an old man who has been jailed and tortured by both the Italians and the postcolonial Somali dictator (referred to as "the general") for various acts of non-violent dissidence. He is a wonderful character that I really loved by the end of the book. He has some regrets about missing his children grow up, and now he watches, powerless, as his son follows in his footsteps by becoming involved in a plot to assassinate the general. The old man disapproves, though, because while being a pro-democracy nationalist he is also a devout Muslim, and against violence. Nonetheless as the young people's plot falls apart and the general's reprisals begin, he finally starts to think about taking up his son's gun and killing the dictator himself. I won't tell you what happens in the brilliant, ambiguous ending. So the novel asks a lot of questions about when violence is justified, and indeed whether the (male) world of political action is ultimately unproductive; at a historical moment when the struggle against the colonizers seems only to have ushered in an era of dictatorship, faith in revolutions is at a low ebb (and indeed when Barre finally did fall from power when the Americans stopped backing him, a whole new horrifying era of conflict began). The novel also pits the world of politics against domestic life (the scenes between the old man and his grandson, and his memories of his wife, are lovely) and spirituality; the old man's prayers, visions and dreams are a kind of third universe in the book, and there is an amazing local madman. Ultimately I don't think Farah is endorsing any single one of these allegiances; as a reader you want the old man to regain his agency by acting, and you want someone to stop the general, but you also don't want him to give up his principles and have blood on his hands, and you sympathize with the women and children who are left dealing with the aftermath of all this...

[Juanita · Rating 5 out of 5]

Have his first trilogy as well
as his last six books. He draws
you into the Ogaden of Somalia
and the confusing world of clans,
dictators, memories and witch
craft. A harsh and troubling
view of our world. Similar
to the world Colin Turnbull
describes in the Mountain People,
The People of the Ik long ago.

[Sorin Hadârcă · Rating 4 out of 5]

With the 'Close Sesame' Nuruddin Farah puts an end to the full anatomy of the African dictatorship. He made us understand that it takes a Hero to match a Tyrant and the Hero must be a Poet (no matter, dead or alive). I wonder if Farah had to learn all this by his own experience...

[Johnny D · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn't enjoy Farah's style of writing as much as I usually do in this book.