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Memorie di un porcospino
Narra una leggenda africana che alcuni uomini hanno un doppio animale, un «doppio nocivo». Quello di Kibandi è un porcospino, a cui è indissolubilmente legato da quando suo padre lo ha condotto nella foresta e lo ha costretto a bere il mayamvumbi, una disgustosa bevanda che ha sancito la sua iniziazione. E così il povero porcospino è obbligato ad abbandonare i compagni per unirsi al ragazzo e al suo «altro sé», la fotocopia esatta di Kibandi se non fosse che gli mancano il naso e la bocca. Il problema è che il destino di un doppio è di assecondare il padrone qualunque cosa faccia, e Kibandi da bambino mite si trasforma col tempo in un feroce assassino. Vicini di casa, abitanti del villaggio: la sua furia si abbatte su chiunque osi ostacolarlo. Il porcospino lo segue ubbidiente, si rende complice di efferati omicidi usando gliaculei come un’arma, finché un giorno si ritrova inaspettatamente libero e, rifugiatosi tra le radici di un baobab, inizia a raccontare la sua storia tragicomica. Dopo «Pezzi di vetro», giocoso inno alla letteratura, con «Memorie di un porcospino» Mabanckou rievoca miti e usanze della sua terra, perché «i libri che sopravvivono più a lungo sono quelli capaci di reinventare il mondo, di rivisitare la nostra infanzia». D’altronde «il mondo è soltanto la versione approssimativa di una favola» e lo scrittore congolese è maestro nel fondere cultura alta e cultura popolare trasformandole in un linguaggio universale.
178 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2006
53 people are currently reading
1404 people want to read
About the author
Alain Mabanckou
87 books461 followersAlain Mabanckou was born in 1966 in Congo-Brazzaville (French Congo). He currently resides in Los Angeles, where he teaches literature at UCLA, having previously spent four years at the University of Michigan. Mabanckou will be a Fellow in the Humanities Council at Princeton University in 2007-2008. One of Francophone Africa's most prolific contemporary writers, he is the author of six volumes of poetry and six novels. He received the Sub-Saharan Africa Literary Prize in 1999 for his first novel, Blue-White-Red, the Prize of the Five Francophone Continents for Broken Glass, and the Prix Renaudot in 2006 for Memoirs of a Porcupine. He was selected by the French publishing trade journal Lire as one of the fifty writers to watch out for in the coming century. His most recent book is African Psycho.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 155 reviews
March 3, 2021
Ngoumba, 'this porcupine' that 'is clearly far from finished yet', sharing his life story with some captive audience...
Q:
I don’t know if you noticed a remarkable thing this morning, when I began talking to you, (c) a porcupine said to a baobab.
Wow! A bibliophile porcupine!
Q:
yes, I was a happy porcupine back then, I’m putting up my quills as I say this, that’s our way of swearing a pledge, another is to raise the front right paw and wave it three times, I know humans swear on the heads of their ancestors, or in the name of the God they’ve never seen, the one they worship with their eyes tight shut, they spend their whole lives reading His word in a big book which was brought here by white men in the days when the people of this country hid their absurd little organs under leopard skins or banana leaves, unaware that over the horizon there lived other people, not like them, that the world stretched on, far beyond the seas and oceans, that when night fell here, elsewhere the sun still shone, and as it happened, my master, Kibandi, owned this book of God, with all the stories men have forced themselves to believe, on pain of not deserving a place in what they call Paradise, you won’t be surprised to hear I had a look at it myself, out of curiosity, since, like my master, I was a good reader, sometimes I would read for him, when he was tired, I had a good look at the God book, whole pages at a time, some thrilling, some touching, I underlined some passages with my quills, ... (c)
A porcupine being highbrow!
Q:
I don’t know why men think themselves so superior, I’m sure they’re not born intelligent, they may have a certain aptitude for it, intelligence is a seed which must be watered if is to flourish, and grow into a well-rooted fruit tree, some people will always be ignorant and uncultivated... (c)
The Art of Eliticism, porcupine-style!
Q:
...such humans will always live in the twilight zone, their sole consolation being their humanity, the aged porcupine who used to govern us would have snapped ‘they’re all cretins, their bottom line is we’re humans, but a fly’s not a bird, just because it can fly’... (c)
The philosopher porcupine:
Q:
while I sat there thinking, I was trying to understand what lay behind each idea, each concept, I know now that thought is of the essence, it’s thought that gives rise to human grief, pity, remorse, even wickedness or goodness (c)
Q:
I pondered the meaning of my relationship with my master, (c)
... is the depressed porcupine:
Q:... while my master brushed these feelings aside with a wave of his hand, I felt them after every mission, many’s the time my face was wet with tears, because, for porcupine’s sake, at times of great sadness or compassion, you get a lump somewhere right near your heart, your thoughts turn black, you regret your actions, the bad things you’ve done, (c)
Oh, Mr Descartes, this porcupine believes your thinking style isn't a valid enough proof of life:
Q:
everything was terrifying, I told myself I needed immediate proof of my existence, but what proof is there ever that one exists, that one is not just an empty shell, a shadow without a soul, well, I had picked up a few handy tricks from the men round here, I just had to ask myself what the difference was between a living being and a ghost, first I told myself that I thought, therefore I must exist, now I’ve always said that men don’t have the monopoly on thought, anyway, the inhabitants of Séképembé, in any case, say that ghosts can think too, since they come back to haunt the living, and have no problem finding the paths which lead to the village, they wander around the markets, go and look round where they used to live, announcing their death in the villages all around, sit down at a roadside bar, order a glass of palm wine, drink like old soaks, settle the debts they ran up while they were alive, and yet as far as the eye is concerned, they don’t exist, so one couldn’t be sure of anything, I needed a different sort of proof, so I tried an old trick, I waited till the sun rose on Saturday, that was yesterday, and I came out of my hiding place, I looked left, looked right, sat down in the middle of a sort of empty space, waved my front paws, crossed them, uncrossed them, and seeing that, praise be to porcupines, who’d have believed it, my shadow moved, and its movements corresponded to those of my limbs, I was alive, no doubt about it, and I could have just stopped there, you would have thought, but no, I wasn’t sure, I didn’t want to do anything dumb, I wanted still further proof — the surest kind — that I was alive, so I went to look at myself in the river, and again I waved my front paws around, and crossed, then uncrossed them, I saw my reflection mirror my movements, so I couldn’t be a ghost, because what I’ve gathered so far, what I’ve picked up from the humans in Séképembé, is ghosts don’t have reflections, they lose all physical presence, become immaterial, but I still wasn’t convinced of my existence, despite all these irrefutable items of proof, which would have been quite enough for your average villager, I had to do one more test, a more physical one this time, so since by now I was walking along by the water’s edge, I dropped down and scrabbled in the dust, took a running jump then flung myself into the water, I felt its chill, and then I knew, this time for certain, that I was still alive (c)
A very careful porcupine:
Q:
I had to cross the main road to get to the houses at the edge of the village, and that was dangerous too, it was a road used by transport trucks once a week, I couldn’t remember which day they came roaring like mad things though our region, I decided I wouldn’t cross the road, you never know, (c)
A porcu-take on reincarnation and smth like The Art of Worldly Wisdom, porcu-style:
Q:
how can I be sure I’ll stay a porcupine, what if I’m reincarnated as an earthworm, or a ladybird, a scorpion, jelly fish, palm tree caterpillar, slug or some other wretched creature of far lowlier status than my present one, a status which would be the envy of any other animal, now you may think I’m just a braggart, a smooth talker, an idiot with bristles, it’s not that I go round criticising other species for the mere pleasure of exaggerating, no, it’s that modesty can be a handicap, it can ruin your life, that’s why, ever since I realised that if you’re going to accept yourself as you are it’s best to play down your shortcomings, ... (c)
Q:
it’s a sunny Monday and I feel I’d like to make some long term resolutions, take an optimistic view of the future, have no care for tomorrow, a voice inside me says I’m not going to die tomorrow, nor the day after tomorrow either, that there must be a explanation for all this, it’s not up to me to go out and find it, whoever created the universe probably realises I was only the victim of the traditions of the people of this country, (c)
Q:
I don’t know if you noticed a remarkable thing this morning, when I began talking to you, (c) a porcupine said to a baobab.
Wow! A bibliophile porcupine!
Q:
yes, I was a happy porcupine back then, I’m putting up my quills as I say this, that’s our way of swearing a pledge, another is to raise the front right paw and wave it three times, I know humans swear on the heads of their ancestors, or in the name of the God they’ve never seen, the one they worship with their eyes tight shut, they spend their whole lives reading His word in a big book which was brought here by white men in the days when the people of this country hid their absurd little organs under leopard skins or banana leaves, unaware that over the horizon there lived other people, not like them, that the world stretched on, far beyond the seas and oceans, that when night fell here, elsewhere the sun still shone, and as it happened, my master, Kibandi, owned this book of God, with all the stories men have forced themselves to believe, on pain of not deserving a place in what they call Paradise, you won’t be surprised to hear I had a look at it myself, out of curiosity, since, like my master, I was a good reader, sometimes I would read for him, when he was tired, I had a good look at the God book, whole pages at a time, some thrilling, some touching, I underlined some passages with my quills, ... (c)
A porcupine being highbrow!
Q:
I don’t know why men think themselves so superior, I’m sure they’re not born intelligent, they may have a certain aptitude for it, intelligence is a seed which must be watered if is to flourish, and grow into a well-rooted fruit tree, some people will always be ignorant and uncultivated... (c)
The Art of Eliticism, porcupine-style!
Q:
...such humans will always live in the twilight zone, their sole consolation being their humanity, the aged porcupine who used to govern us would have snapped ‘they’re all cretins, their bottom line is we’re humans, but a fly’s not a bird, just because it can fly’... (c)
The philosopher porcupine:
Q:
while I sat there thinking, I was trying to understand what lay behind each idea, each concept, I know now that thought is of the essence, it’s thought that gives rise to human grief, pity, remorse, even wickedness or goodness (c)
Q:
I pondered the meaning of my relationship with my master, (c)
... is the depressed porcupine:
Q:... while my master brushed these feelings aside with a wave of his hand, I felt them after every mission, many’s the time my face was wet with tears, because, for porcupine’s sake, at times of great sadness or compassion, you get a lump somewhere right near your heart, your thoughts turn black, you regret your actions, the bad things you’ve done, (c)
Oh, Mr Descartes, this porcupine believes your thinking style isn't a valid enough proof of life:
Q:
everything was terrifying, I told myself I needed immediate proof of my existence, but what proof is there ever that one exists, that one is not just an empty shell, a shadow without a soul, well, I had picked up a few handy tricks from the men round here, I just had to ask myself what the difference was between a living being and a ghost, first I told myself that I thought, therefore I must exist, now I’ve always said that men don’t have the monopoly on thought, anyway, the inhabitants of Séképembé, in any case, say that ghosts can think too, since they come back to haunt the living, and have no problem finding the paths which lead to the village, they wander around the markets, go and look round where they used to live, announcing their death in the villages all around, sit down at a roadside bar, order a glass of palm wine, drink like old soaks, settle the debts they ran up while they were alive, and yet as far as the eye is concerned, they don’t exist, so one couldn’t be sure of anything, I needed a different sort of proof, so I tried an old trick, I waited till the sun rose on Saturday, that was yesterday, and I came out of my hiding place, I looked left, looked right, sat down in the middle of a sort of empty space, waved my front paws, crossed them, uncrossed them, and seeing that, praise be to porcupines, who’d have believed it, my shadow moved, and its movements corresponded to those of my limbs, I was alive, no doubt about it, and I could have just stopped there, you would have thought, but no, I wasn’t sure, I didn’t want to do anything dumb, I wanted still further proof — the surest kind — that I was alive, so I went to look at myself in the river, and again I waved my front paws around, and crossed, then uncrossed them, I saw my reflection mirror my movements, so I couldn’t be a ghost, because what I’ve gathered so far, what I’ve picked up from the humans in Séképembé, is ghosts don’t have reflections, they lose all physical presence, become immaterial, but I still wasn’t convinced of my existence, despite all these irrefutable items of proof, which would have been quite enough for your average villager, I had to do one more test, a more physical one this time, so since by now I was walking along by the water’s edge, I dropped down and scrabbled in the dust, took a running jump then flung myself into the water, I felt its chill, and then I knew, this time for certain, that I was still alive (c)
A very careful porcupine:
Q:
I had to cross the main road to get to the houses at the edge of the village, and that was dangerous too, it was a road used by transport trucks once a week, I couldn’t remember which day they came roaring like mad things though our region, I decided I wouldn’t cross the road, you never know, (c)
A porcu-take on reincarnation and smth like The Art of Worldly Wisdom, porcu-style:
Q:
how can I be sure I’ll stay a porcupine, what if I’m reincarnated as an earthworm, or a ladybird, a scorpion, jelly fish, palm tree caterpillar, slug or some other wretched creature of far lowlier status than my present one, a status which would be the envy of any other animal, now you may think I’m just a braggart, a smooth talker, an idiot with bristles, it’s not that I go round criticising other species for the mere pleasure of exaggerating, no, it’s that modesty can be a handicap, it can ruin your life, that’s why, ever since I realised that if you’re going to accept yourself as you are it’s best to play down your shortcomings, ... (c)
Q:
it’s a sunny Monday and I feel I’d like to make some long term resolutions, take an optimistic view of the future, have no care for tomorrow, a voice inside me says I’m not going to die tomorrow, nor the day after tomorrow either, that there must be a explanation for all this, it’s not up to me to go out and find it, whoever created the universe probably realises I was only the victim of the traditions of the people of this country, (c)
February 4, 2017
The idea of listening to a porcupine's confessions to a baobab is amusing and light-hearted but his story raises the most serious cultural and ethical issues. I'm reminded of nothing so much as Hannah Arendt's Banality of Evil, with digressions on the relationship between evil, power and the possibility of redemption.
This is not the first time I've read a fable written from the point of view of an animal and most of the other recent ones come from outside the English-speaking world as well. They've almost always been ways of raising quite complicated philosophical issues in an approachable way and of commenting on human society from the outside. They come across cute and easy to read, but they are meant to be taken to quite a deep level. It works for me. I will probably read this one again soon so I can think a bit more about some aspects of it.
With respect to the porcupine's talkative style and digressions: considering some of the sentences are several pages long, it's amazing how easy this is to read and follow. You're just going to have to trust the porcupine on this one - it really works as advertised. It's just like listening to someone talk (only well).
Last point: the translator, Helen Stevenson, has done a great job reproducing a colloquial feel. I found this book by chance in my local library and I hope to compare it with Mabanckou's original sometime soon.
This is not the first time I've read a fable written from the point of view of an animal and most of the other recent ones come from outside the English-speaking world as well. They've almost always been ways of raising quite complicated philosophical issues in an approachable way and of commenting on human society from the outside. They come across cute and easy to read, but they are meant to be taken to quite a deep level. It works for me. I will probably read this one again soon so I can think a bit more about some aspects of it.
With respect to the porcupine's talkative style and digressions: considering some of the sentences are several pages long, it's amazing how easy this is to read and follow. You're just going to have to trust the porcupine on this one - it really works as advertised. It's just like listening to someone talk (only well).
Last point: the translator, Helen Stevenson, has done a great job reproducing a colloquial feel. I found this book by chance in my local library and I hope to compare it with Mabanckou's original sometime soon.
December 25, 2016
هذه الرواية عبارة عن مذكرات لشيهم (القرين أو مثيل) يروي قصته مع الشياهم ، وكيف تلبس صاحبه . وهو كتاب خالي من علامات الترقيم ماعدا الفاصلة و النقطة ، بالنسبة لي كانت قرأته متعبة .
هي رواية خرافية خيالية فلسفية و اسطورية عن القصص الشعبية الأفريقية، تحدثت عن علاقة الإنسان بالحيوان ، وعن ماوراء الحياة ... الخ . أثناء قرأتي لهذه الرواية ، سطورها أثارت فضولي في كثير من المقاطع ، فبحثت عن بعض المعلومات التي وردت فيها ، و كانت مفاجأة بالنسبة لي أن اكتشف بأن بعض ماورد في هذا الكتاب معروف بمجتمعتنا العربية . اتمنى أن يقع بين يدي كتاب عن هذه المواضيع، لأتعرف بشكل أعمق عنها . (لأني بصراحة ماعرف شيء عن هالموضوع)
هي رواية خرافية خيالية فلسفية و اسطورية عن القصص الشعبية الأفريقية، تحدثت عن علاقة الإنسان بالحيوان ، وعن ماوراء الحياة ... الخ . أثناء قرأتي لهذه الرواية ، سطورها أثارت فضولي في كثير من المقاطع ، فبحثت عن بعض المعلومات التي وردت فيها ، و كانت مفاجأة بالنسبة لي أن اكتشف بأن بعض ماورد في هذا الكتاب معروف بمجتمعتنا العربية . اتمنى أن يقع بين يدي كتاب عن هذه المواضيع، لأتعرف بشكل أعمق عنها . (لأني بصراحة ماعرف شيء عن هالموضوع)
September 22, 2021
Per lui il mondo è soltanto la versione approssimativa di una favola che non saremo mai in grado di afferrare fin quando continueremo a prendere in considerazione soltanto la rappresentazione materiale delle cose.
November 7, 2021
a sentence can be a term of imprisonment and a sentence can have no end in that way a sentence is timeless and a book like this that has no periods or beginnings or endings is yes evocative of an oral culture and yes really gives the flavour of people talking because they just talk they don't always talk in sentences, so there is much here to enjoy but also so much to wade through, one has to be in the mood for this and me and my spirit twin who is a moody beast is not always in the right mood, and sometimes the prickly beast is not even speaking to me, so there you have it a tale with no real beginning and so it never ends it just goes on and on in chapters, like days in a life that happen in between dreaming or is this the dream
May 7, 2019
Bom dia literární rodino,
Jelikož mám obrovský penis, asi jako autobus, přečetl jsem další knížku. Že tyto dva údaje spolu vůbec nesouvisí? Je to možné.
Paměti porc-epic, alias epického prasete, jsem si zakoupil, páč jsem si od Alana Mabakuku vždy chtěl přečíst Prasklého skleničku. Koukám, že můj mozek asi opět hodil ruksak na záda a odjel na víkend do Teplic. Tohle on dělá často. Kolikrát mám chuť třeba na pomeranč a omylem si koupím vodku. Vodky nelituji, Paměti dikobraza ano. Jako správný literární gurmet a kritik pár exceláns jsem předpokládal, že dikobraz je jen metafora, ale ono je to vskutku vyprávěný dikobrazem. Co to jako je? Od kdy umí zvířata mluvit? A psát? A k tomu ještě česky? Tady mi něco nesedí (a vskutku, zrovna jsem zkontroloval svoji židli v pokoji a nesedí tu nic!). Já bych všechny tyhlety knížky, kde je vypravěč dítě nebo zvíře, zakázal. Je snad něco horšího než číst, jak se dospělý člověk přetvařuje, že je mimino nebo zvíře, aby mohl psát infantilní kokotiny? Jasně, někdo namítne, že tu jsou horší věci, třeba zlomená ruka, plíseň na zdech, nebo genocida, ale i tak. V tomhle eposu dikobraz kadí uprostřed lesa na baobab a přitom tomu stromu vypráví o tom, jak se potuloval se svým člověčím kamarádem, s kterým společně zabíjeli ostatní lidi. Dikobraz je samozřejmě řádně otravnej, člověčí kamarád je debil už z principu a všechno důležitý je zkratkovitý a plochý. Co jsem si z toho měl odnést netuším - což například když jdu z Lidlu, tak vím vždycky co si odnáším. Lidl vs literatura 1:0. Magický realismus z Konga tímto dávám do své krabičky věcí, které už nechci nikdy potkat, hned vedle květáku, kolonoskopie a reggae hudby.
Jelikož mám obrovský penis, asi jako autobus, přečetl jsem další knížku. Že tyto dva údaje spolu vůbec nesouvisí? Je to možné.
Paměti porc-epic, alias epického prasete, jsem si zakoupil, páč jsem si od Alana Mabakuku vždy chtěl přečíst Prasklého skleničku. Koukám, že můj mozek asi opět hodil ruksak na záda a odjel na víkend do Teplic. Tohle on dělá často. Kolikrát mám chuť třeba na pomeranč a omylem si koupím vodku. Vodky nelituji, Paměti dikobraza ano. Jako správný literární gurmet a kritik pár exceláns jsem předpokládal, že dikobraz je jen metafora, ale ono je to vskutku vyprávěný dikobrazem. Co to jako je? Od kdy umí zvířata mluvit? A psát? A k tomu ještě česky? Tady mi něco nesedí (a vskutku, zrovna jsem zkontroloval svoji židli v pokoji a nesedí tu nic!). Já bych všechny tyhlety knížky, kde je vypravěč dítě nebo zvíře, zakázal. Je snad něco horšího než číst, jak se dospělý člověk přetvařuje, že je mimino nebo zvíře, aby mohl psát infantilní kokotiny? Jasně, někdo namítne, že tu jsou horší věci, třeba zlomená ruka, plíseň na zdech, nebo genocida, ale i tak. V tomhle eposu dikobraz kadí uprostřed lesa na baobab a přitom tomu stromu vypráví o tom, jak se potuloval se svým člověčím kamarádem, s kterým společně zabíjeli ostatní lidi. Dikobraz je samozřejmě řádně otravnej, člověčí kamarád je debil už z principu a všechno důležitý je zkratkovitý a plochý. Co jsem si z toho měl odnést netuším - což například když jdu z Lidlu, tak vím vždycky co si odnáším. Lidl vs literatura 1:0. Magický realismus z Konga tímto dávám do své krabičky věcí, které už nechci nikdy potkat, hned vedle květáku, kolonoskopie a reggae hudby.
March 2, 2018
كان مقتنعا أن الكتب التي ترافقنا طويلا. هي تلك التي تعيد خلق العالم وتستعيد طفولتنا. وتساءل البدء. وتسبر أفكارنا الثابتة وترج معتقداتنا.
تمت..
تمت..
May 25, 2020
ومنذ ذلك الحين، لم أعد أنظر إلى الحيوانات بالنظرة نفسها، وبعد من منا الوحش؟ الحيوان أم الانسان"
أول تجربة لي في الأدب الافريقي، بعد ترشيح من صديق قال أنني صرت أفهم تلك الشعوب أكثر بعدما قرأت أدبهم!
فعلا الأدب ترجمان الأقوام ومرآتهم الصافية، خصوصا عندما يغطي أدق التفاصيل مهما كانت قذرة وتشمئز منها النفوس كما فعل الكاتب في هذه الرواية... في البداية نفرت من تلك المشاهد والروائح التي صورها الكاتب حتى كادت تتغشاني ثم حدثت نفسي بأن دور الأدب هو أن يصور الواقع لا أن يحسنه.
لابد أن الكاتب يتمتع بمخيلة خصبة جدا حتى يروي رواية كاملة على لسان حيوان يحاكم البشر وحياتهم وتفاصيلهم بمنظور فلسفي جميل.
أول تجربة لي في الأدب الافريقي، بعد ترشيح من صديق قال أنني صرت أفهم تلك الشعوب أكثر بعدما قرأت أدبهم!
فعلا الأدب ترجمان الأقوام ومرآتهم الصافية، خصوصا عندما يغطي أدق التفاصيل مهما كانت قذرة وتشمئز منها النفوس كما فعل الكاتب في هذه الرواية... في البداية نفرت من تلك المشاهد والروائح التي صورها الكاتب حتى كادت تتغشاني ثم حدثت نفسي بأن دور الأدب هو أن يصور الواقع لا أن يحسنه.
لابد أن الكاتب يتمتع بمخيلة خصبة جدا حتى يروي رواية كاملة على لسان حيوان يحاكم البشر وحياتهم وتفاصيلهم بمنظور فلسفي جميل.
May 17, 2023
بطل هذه الرواية "شيهم" - حيوان من فصيلة القنافذ - يروي لشجرة باوباب معمرة مغامراته. بوصفه قرينا لرجل يُدعى "كيباندي"، كان يستعمله للتخلص من خصومه وأعدائه وكل من لا يروقه عن طريق السحر والشعوذة .
يروى الشيهم دون توقف وهو لا يصدق أنه نجا من الموت، فالمفروض أن يلقى القرين نحبه بموت سیده، پروی بلسان البشر وينتقد عاداتهم وتقاليدهم، ويمنى النفس بحياة حرة لا يكون فيها الحيوان ـ بشكل عام ـ ضحية لطباع الإنسان السيئة ومزاجه المتقلب.
رواية "مذكرات شيهم" هي خرافة ذات منحى فلسفي حول علاقة الإنسان بالحيوان، ومعنى الحياة، وما وراء الوجود، تمتح من الحكايات والأساطير الشعبية الإفريقية التي نهل منها الكاتب في طفولته، وتمنح الحيوان الكلمة لكي يحاكم سلوك البشر.
يروى الشيهم دون توقف وهو لا يصدق أنه نجا من الموت، فالمفروض أن يلقى القرين نحبه بموت سیده، پروی بلسان البشر وينتقد عاداتهم وتقاليدهم، ويمنى النفس بحياة حرة لا يكون فيها الحيوان ـ بشكل عام ـ ضحية لطباع الإنسان السيئة ومزاجه المتقلب.
رواية "مذكرات شيهم" هي خرافة ذات منحى فلسفي حول علاقة الإنسان بالحيوان، ومعنى الحياة، وما وراء الوجود، تمتح من الحكايات والأساطير الشعبية الإفريقية التي نهل منها الكاتب في طفولته، وتمنح الحيوان الكلمة لكي يحاكم سلوك البشر.
February 6, 2017
Porcupine – this is apparently both his name and his species – is the animal double to the boy Kibandi. But porcupine is not one of those benevolent animal spirits you usually read about, one assigned to a human child at birth to act as his guardian and spiritual guide. When Kibandi is eleven years old, his father takes him into the jungle and forces him to drink mayamvumbi, a home brew so powerful, so evil that it is kept buried in secret locations. Porcupine, who until this time has been living the relatively pleasant life of an African porcupine, is summoned to this ceremony and bound to the drunken child for life. He will be Kibandi’s harmful double, “the liveliest, scariest kind of double.” He observes the child’s young life, and follows Kibandi and his mother to another village for a fresh start after an incident involving Kibandi’s father and a suspicious pattern of unexplained deaths. It is not until after the death of Kibandi’s mother that he and Porcupine begin their true work, which is murder.
Mabanckou’s novel takes place in the present day Congo where village sorcerers compete with priests and doctors, and traditional ways confront modernizing trends. One young man Kibandi finds particularly offensive spends half his time in France. When this designer-clothed young scholar returns to visit his family, he exhibits all manner of obnoxious affectations. You know this will not bode well for his long-term survival. A theme that seems to run through Manbankou’s novel is the crippling and often deadly influence of traditions that in the story are protected by the carefully aimed quills of Kibandi’s harmful double.
Porcupine anguishes over many of the missions he must complete for his master, but accepts them as his duty. I cannot imagine the hardhearted reader who will not sympathize with him as he pours his soul out to an impassive baobab tree. It is Porcupine’s nonchalant and engaging voice that makes this account of malevolence and black magic a pleasure to read.
Mabanckou’s novel takes place in the present day Congo where village sorcerers compete with priests and doctors, and traditional ways confront modernizing trends. One young man Kibandi finds particularly offensive spends half his time in France. When this designer-clothed young scholar returns to visit his family, he exhibits all manner of obnoxious affectations. You know this will not bode well for his long-term survival. A theme that seems to run through Manbankou’s novel is the crippling and often deadly influence of traditions that in the story are protected by the carefully aimed quills of Kibandi’s harmful double.
Porcupine anguishes over many of the missions he must complete for his master, but accepts them as his duty. I cannot imagine the hardhearted reader who will not sympathize with him as he pours his soul out to an impassive baobab tree. It is Porcupine’s nonchalant and engaging voice that makes this account of malevolence and black magic a pleasure to read.
May 10, 2015
Even as I'm reviewing, I have to return to the feeling that I've missed something here. Or perhaps, better, my hope for as much. So many good reviews but I struggle to find the profound. Sure - Mabanckou asks some interesting origin-of-evil and origin-of-life type questions, but both the questions and answers seem tired in their treatment.
The narrative is interesting and the world he creates is novel... though I couldn't discern any reason for the inconsistent punctuation (only uses commas, excludes periods) or capitalization - I was waiting for a picture of Porcupine learning to read that would add a purpose to these decisions (Faulkner's Sound and Fury as example) - or perhaps some act of will (Porcupine not wanting to imitate humanity while still enjoying the human qualities his pairing provided him (ability to write and communicate).
Perhaps it is my ignorance to the culture, but the constant addition to just-in-time type rules made it hard to go along with the tensions of the narrative. Learning things last minute like the old trick of sticking pine-nuts up your butt to make your traversals in-perceivable to witches, or a prohibition against killing twins or the mysterious and sudden showdown that ends the novel that leaves very little explanation as why one puppet (the human double) is tortured, while the other double (Porcupine) is divined as innocent... while even Kibandi himself was a puppet to the mayamvumbi. What's the message here?
Within the novel the details were so sparse and the episodes so quick that I couldn't connect them into a single character with struggles easy to empathize with. There were a lot of great opportunities here (being forced to commit violence against ones will, having to leave a culture of comfort to become one with an alien culture (humans)) - but they went largely unexplored. I'll leave it up to the Toledans to help me up my rating on this. But generally all I have to say is ... eh... (at this point).
Cheers -
The narrative is interesting and the world he creates is novel... though I couldn't discern any reason for the inconsistent punctuation (only uses commas, excludes periods) or capitalization - I was waiting for a picture of Porcupine learning to read that would add a purpose to these decisions (Faulkner's Sound and Fury as example) - or perhaps some act of will (Porcupine not wanting to imitate humanity while still enjoying the human qualities his pairing provided him (ability to write and communicate).
Perhaps it is my ignorance to the culture, but the constant addition to just-in-time type rules made it hard to go along with the tensions of the narrative. Learning things last minute like the old trick of sticking pine-nuts up your butt to make your traversals in-perceivable to witches, or a prohibition against killing twins or the mysterious and sudden showdown that ends the novel that leaves very little explanation as why one puppet (the human double) is tortured, while the other double (Porcupine) is divined as innocent... while even Kibandi himself was a puppet to the mayamvumbi. What's the message here?
Within the novel the details were so sparse and the episodes so quick that I couldn't connect them into a single character with struggles easy to empathize with. There were a lot of great opportunities here (being forced to commit violence against ones will, having to leave a culture of comfort to become one with an alien culture (humans)) - but they went largely unexplored. I'll leave it up to the Toledans to help me up my rating on this. But generally all I have to say is ... eh... (at this point).
Cheers -
October 5, 2018
Kibandi, a boy living in a Congolese village, reaches the age of 11, and his father takes him out into the night as his initiation, and forces him to drink a vile concoction. After this, he and his double, a porcupine, become accomplices in murder.
It reads like an ancient African folk tale, but throughout I was searching for it’s deeper meaning.
An African legend says that all humans have animal doubles, some peaceful, some wicked. Kibandi’s is of course the latter.
Read on a simple level, just appreciating the fable (as it comes over as), it is a quirky, often humorous insight into local legend.
On a deeper level Mabanckou’s message seems to be a comment on violence as an endemic part of us. Though fables usually have clear morals I think Mabanckou’s game is to make the reader find their own meaning to his storytelling porcupine.
It reads like an ancient African folk tale, but throughout I was searching for it’s deeper meaning.
An African legend says that all humans have animal doubles, some peaceful, some wicked. Kibandi’s is of course the latter.
Read on a simple level, just appreciating the fable (as it comes over as), it is a quirky, often humorous insight into local legend.
On a deeper level Mabanckou’s message seems to be a comment on violence as an endemic part of us. Though fables usually have clear morals I think Mabanckou’s game is to make the reader find their own meaning to his storytelling porcupine.
February 10, 2017
Though I didn't find it necessarily humorous (it is very dark humor), I did enjoy this quirky, dark tale & its many observations & comments on mankind. I think it's an excellent mix of very traditional African belief/folklore/village life mixed with the differences/clashes of 'Western'/white beliefs. The porcupine is an affable, if somewhat evil, narrator who expounds on his life to a Baobab tree. Maybe not for everyone, but definitely different & definitely one I relished. Recommended.
September 28, 2016
Originally published on my blog (https://reallifereading.com/2016/03/0...)
Memoirs of a Porcupine is as its title suggests, narrated by a porcupine. But not any ordinary porcupine, this porcupine is the animal double of Kibandi. At the age of 11, Kibandi’s father takes him out into the night and makes him drink something vile that somehow triggers this bond with his animal double, a “harmful double”, the “liveliest, scariest kind of double”.
“the humans of whom we become the animal incarnation will cease to feel emotions like pity, understanding, empathy, remorse, compassion, night will enter their souls, once transmission has occurred, the harmful double must leave the animal world and come to live close to the initiate, performing his assignments without protest”
The porcupine soon becomes his master’s murder weapon, of sorts. He orders it to kill fellow villagers, those who wrongly cross his path, for the slightest of reasons.
The porcupine is telling this story to a baobab tree, some days after its master’s death, certain that it is due to die soon too. This porcupine is a rather amusing narrator, and it is a more readable book than I expected it to be. It does have some rather rambly bits, especially since the sentences are broken up by commas instead of full stops, and capitalizations at the start of sentences are nonexistent. But I got used to that (and I did read this as an ebook, which I’m not sure if that makes it worse) and quickly finished this quirky little book.
Is it a fable? I’m not entirely sure. Does it have a moral? Perhaps it is “don’t have an animal double”. But what I do know is that it was quite entertaining, pretty dark, somewhat comic and yet an uncomfortable read. A book that isn’t for everyone, but that drew me in with its strangeness, its different nature.
Memoirs of a Porcupine is as its title suggests, narrated by a porcupine. But not any ordinary porcupine, this porcupine is the animal double of Kibandi. At the age of 11, Kibandi’s father takes him out into the night and makes him drink something vile that somehow triggers this bond with his animal double, a “harmful double”, the “liveliest, scariest kind of double”.
“the humans of whom we become the animal incarnation will cease to feel emotions like pity, understanding, empathy, remorse, compassion, night will enter their souls, once transmission has occurred, the harmful double must leave the animal world and come to live close to the initiate, performing his assignments without protest”
The porcupine soon becomes his master’s murder weapon, of sorts. He orders it to kill fellow villagers, those who wrongly cross his path, for the slightest of reasons.
The porcupine is telling this story to a baobab tree, some days after its master’s death, certain that it is due to die soon too. This porcupine is a rather amusing narrator, and it is a more readable book than I expected it to be. It does have some rather rambly bits, especially since the sentences are broken up by commas instead of full stops, and capitalizations at the start of sentences are nonexistent. But I got used to that (and I did read this as an ebook, which I’m not sure if that makes it worse) and quickly finished this quirky little book.
Is it a fable? I’m not entirely sure. Does it have a moral? Perhaps it is “don’t have an animal double”. But what I do know is that it was quite entertaining, pretty dark, somewhat comic and yet an uncomfortable read. A book that isn’t for everyone, but that drew me in with its strangeness, its different nature.
Read
September 16, 2020Set in a Congolese village, Memoirs of a Porcupine is exactly as the title suggests. A porcupine sits down to pen his memoirs. The porcupine is the animal double of Kibandi, a harmful double at that, and he assists Kibandi in an ever-growing number of malicious deeds. This carries on for years, until one day even the porcupine balks at what his master asks him to do, which is when he turns to his confession.
.
This is actually the second book I've read for my reading the world challenge which is told from the POV of an animal (the other was The Book of Chameleons for Angola). It's always an interesting shift and allows the reader to see humans from a more direct, straightforward perspective. All their foibles and quirks are laid bare with no frills.
.
This was my first book by Mabanckou and I really enjoyed his style, very nicely translated by Helen Stevenson! But it will probably split audiences, as the only punctuation the porcupine uses is commas. Everything is told in one flowing sentence, although there are chapters and paragraph breaks. Once you get into it, it makes for smooth reading and I was drawn into this dark little tale steeped in Congolese folklore.
.
Despite all the murder though, Memoirs of a Porcupine is slyly funny at times. The porcupine often pokes fun at humans and their incomprehensible ways, as well as western literature. There's even a slightly meta part where Mabanckou pokes fun at himself. I wouldn't say it's a life-changing book, but it's definitely unique with some insightful social commentary told through the eyes of an original narrator.
.
I'll definitely try out some of Mabanckou's other work in the future!
.
This is actually the second book I've read for my reading the world challenge which is told from the POV of an animal (the other was The Book of Chameleons for Angola). It's always an interesting shift and allows the reader to see humans from a more direct, straightforward perspective. All their foibles and quirks are laid bare with no frills.
.
This was my first book by Mabanckou and I really enjoyed his style, very nicely translated by Helen Stevenson! But it will probably split audiences, as the only punctuation the porcupine uses is commas. Everything is told in one flowing sentence, although there are chapters and paragraph breaks. Once you get into it, it makes for smooth reading and I was drawn into this dark little tale steeped in Congolese folklore.
.
Despite all the murder though, Memoirs of a Porcupine is slyly funny at times. The porcupine often pokes fun at humans and their incomprehensible ways, as well as western literature. There's even a slightly meta part where Mabanckou pokes fun at himself. I wouldn't say it's a life-changing book, but it's definitely unique with some insightful social commentary told through the eyes of an original narrator.
.
I'll definitely try out some of Mabanckou's other work in the future!
September 5, 2018
من منا الوحش الإنسان أم الحيوان؟ سؤال ختم به العمل الأسطوري .. لكني ربما أضيف سؤالا أزليا قديما : هل الإنسان مسير أم مخير؟ وهل يستطيع أن يغير تاريخه إن أحب أم أن شيئا ماداخله في تكوينه قد يعيده دائما إلى نقطة اللاعودة.. إلى ماهو لايستطيع إلاه.. طوال الوقت تفتح لك كلمات الشيهم (القنفذ) أقواس أسئلة ولا تغلقها.. طوال الوقت تجعلك في مأزق وأنت تفكر لماذا الشر يصر أن يكمل رحلته ويجد وريثا لتركات توحشه عبر الزمن.. لماذا لايرتاح إلا وهو ينثر بذورا جديدة كل خريف لتنمو وتنمو حتى تلتف على كل شيء حتى عنقه هو وتضغط بكل قوتها إلى أن يخرج آخر نفس من صدر الحياة؟... سيظل الشر حيا بشكل ما مادامت السماوات والأرض.. وستظل الأصوات التي تحاول أن تصلح مملة للبعض طالما بقيت بلا معنى بلا روح... والروح لاتأتي إلا من التجربة... فالذين يعرفون قيمة الخير هم الذين أتعبهم الشر.. خاصة الذين تورطوا بممارسته.. الرواية أكثر من رائعة تأخذك إلى غموض الأسطورة ومتاهات الأدغال وحكايات الجدات ربما ذات الأبواب المقفلة والألغاز التي لاتتركك إلا وأنت جزء منها... أزعجتني الترجمة أحيانا ربما لأن المترجم كان يعمد طيلة الوقت لاختيار الألفاظ غير المتداولة التي بحاجة إلى الفزع إلى معجم لغة عربية .. كذلك تراكيب الجمل خرجت مضطربة في بعض الأحيان... رغم ذلك استمتعت بالعمل بالفعل
للمراجعة المسموعة .. تجدونها وتجدونني على الرابط التالي
https://soundcloud.com/dr-hanan-farou...
للمراجعة المسموعة .. تجدونها وتجدونني على الرابط التالي
https://soundcloud.com/dr-hanan-farou...
November 21, 2017
انا احب افريقيا واحب انتمائي لها وان في هويتي جزء منها
هذه الرواية افريقية بامتياز في جو اسطوري جميل ومشوق ومثير للاسئلة
ما لفت نظري هو انتشار اساطير مشابهة لما حكت عنه الرواية لدينا في صعيد مصر مثل الحكايات التي تتحدث عن التوائم وارتباطها بالقطط
الرواية جميلة
هذه الرواية افريقية بامتياز في جو اسطوري جميل ومشوق ومثير للاسئلة
ما لفت نظري هو انتشار اساطير مشابهة لما حكت عنه الرواية لدينا في صعيد مصر مثل الحكايات التي تتحدث عن التوائم وارتباطها بالقطط
الرواية جميلة
January 25, 2018
Quelle curieuse lecture que ce roman ! Il s'agit d'une fable retraçant les aventures d'un porc-épic, double nuisible d'un charpentier qui n'aime pas être contrarié. A la mort de son maître, il se réfugie sous un baobab auquel il raconte les méfaits qu'il a commis et partage ses pensées sur la psychologie des hommes...
L'écriture d'Alain Mabanckou peut surprendre, notamment par le fait qu'il n'utilise pas d'autre ponctuation que la virgule. Cela donne un caractère d'urgence à la lecture, comme si le porc-épic ne pouvait arrêter son récit. C'est décontenançant.
L'écriture d'Alain Mabanckou peut surprendre, notamment par le fait qu'il n'utilise pas d'autre ponctuation que la virgule. Cela donne un caractère d'urgence à la lecture, comme si le porc-épic ne pouvait arrêter son récit. C'est décontenançant.
May 2, 2018
3.5
أعرف الآن أن التفكير أمر أساسي، هو الذي يلهم البشر الكآبة والشفقة والندم، وحتى الخبث أو الطيبة.
الرواية جميلة جدًّا، حديث على لسان الشيهم "القنفذ" ورؤيته للبشر والحيوانات وحياة البشر وما يفعلون بها، ولكنه أيضًا كان يتحدث عن عادات وتقاليد غريبة جدًا، ولكنها تحدث في قارتنا أفريقيا.
وقد تساءل الكاتب مَن منا الوحش فعلًا، الإنسان أم الحيوان؟ سؤال رحيب... ولكنه يحمل الكثير والكثير من عادات البشر "الإنسان" قبل عادات الحيوان.
الكتب التي ترافقنا طويلًا هي تلك التي تعيد خلق العالم، وتستعيد طفولتنا، وتساءل البدء، وتسبر أفكارنا الثابتة وترج معتقداتنا.
أعرف الآن أن التفكير أمر أساسي، هو الذي يلهم البشر الكآبة والشفقة والندم، وحتى الخبث أو الطيبة.
الرواية جميلة جدًّا، حديث على لسان الشيهم "القنفذ" ورؤيته للبشر والحيوانات وحياة البشر وما يفعلون بها، ولكنه أيضًا كان يتحدث عن عادات وتقاليد غريبة جدًا، ولكنها تحدث في قارتنا أفريقيا.
وقد تساءل الكاتب مَن منا الوحش فعلًا، الإنسان أم الحيوان؟ سؤال رحيب... ولكنه يحمل الكثير والكثير من عادات البشر "الإنسان" قبل عادات الحيوان.
الكتب التي ترافقنا طويلًا هي تلك التي تعيد خلق العالم، وتستعيد طفولتنا، وتساءل البدء، وتسبر أفكارنا الثابتة وترج معتقداتنا.
December 19, 2024
Bardzo lubię postkolonialną grę ze stereotypami i wyobrażeniami, a tutaj jest jej od groma! Zapadła mi w pamięć między innymi wizyta francuskich antropologów w wiosce. Polecam!
January 21, 2018
“Non posso trattenermi dal confessare di essermi lasciato trasportare dalla storia di questo strano porcospino a un tempo accattivante, chiacchierone, agitato, molto addentro alla natura umana e abituato a servirsi della digressione come di un'arma allo scopo di tracciare uno schizzo di noi umani, anche biasimandoci senza mezzi termini. Dopo averlo letto, ho smesso di guardare gli animali con gli stessi occhi.”
Nei film in genere detesto l’antropomorfizzazione degli animali ma la letteratura è il mondo del possibile e dell’impossibile, anche per il regno animale, e questo porcospino chiacchierone è un vero spasso. Con le sue paure da porcospino, ci racconta in prima persona una leggenda africana secondo cui alcuni uomini avrebbero un doppio “nocivo”, un doppio animale che sarebbe costretto ad assecondare il proprio padrone qualunque cosa egli chieda o faccia.
Del resto è lo stesso scrittore congolese, tra le righe, a dirci che “ (....) il mondo è soltanto la versione approssimativa di una favola che non saremo mai in grado di afferrare fin quando continueremo a prendere in considerazione soltanto la rappresentazione materiale delle cose.”
Corpo di un porcospino!
Lettura piacevolissima.
Nei film in genere detesto l’antropomorfizzazione degli animali ma la letteratura è il mondo del possibile e dell’impossibile, anche per il regno animale, e questo porcospino chiacchierone è un vero spasso. Con le sue paure da porcospino, ci racconta in prima persona una leggenda africana secondo cui alcuni uomini avrebbero un doppio “nocivo”, un doppio animale che sarebbe costretto ad assecondare il proprio padrone qualunque cosa egli chieda o faccia.
Del resto è lo stesso scrittore congolese, tra le righe, a dirci che “ (....) il mondo è soltanto la versione approssimativa di una favola che non saremo mai in grado di afferrare fin quando continueremo a prendere in considerazione soltanto la rappresentazione materiale delle cose.”
Corpo di un porcospino!
Lettura piacevolissima.
January 31, 2019
2.5
أول تجربة مع أدب الكونغو فكرة
لطيفة لكن مع الأسف أفسدتها الترجمة
أول تجربة مع أدب الكونغو فكرة
لطيفة لكن مع الأسف أفسدتها الترجمة
April 7, 2018
لماذا نقرأ الروايات ؟ و لماذا قراءة الروايات مهمة و مفيدة ؟ هذة الرواية تجيب عن هذا السؤال في بساطة ووضوح ، نقرأ لكي نعيش ما لا نستطيع عيشه ، مذكرات شيهم ، رواية ساحرة ، تحمل سحر أفريقيا السمراء ، الشيهم هو حيوان حسب المعتقدات الاسطورية يعمل كمثيل لرجل ينفذ أوامره و لا يعترض و لا يجادل ، الرواية كما ترى تنتمي للواقعية السحرية ، ستأخذك لأدغال أفريقيا السمراء لترى كل الاعتقدات المحلية و الشعبية و جو لن تعيشه مهما عشت من سنوات ، لهذا تقرأ الروايات ، لهذا تقرأ الروايات المترجمة
الرواية تدور في حديث لا بنقطع للشيهم و هو يجلس في ظل شجرة و يحدثها ، يحكي لها و لنا كل ما دار مع سيده ، كل ما اضطر لفعله منذ تركه لقطيعه و هجرته ، يروي بلا انقطاع و في غياب تام لعلامات الترقيم الا من الفصلات ، الرواية حجمها صغير 150 ورقة الا انها مكثفة و رائعة
الترجمة جيدة ، و الطبعة في سلسلة الجوائز في شكلها الجديد ، رائعة ، و حجم القطع ممتاز و افضل من الشكل القديم ، كما انها اصبحت تمتاز بالجرأة ، شخصيا أحب الناشر الجرئ ، الذي يقدم شيئا جديدا و لا يلعب علي المضمون ، تقديم أدب أفريقي مترجم ، حتى و لو حصل علي جائزة فرنسية ، فهو شيئ لن يقدم عليه الكثير من الناشرين ، الهيئة العامة للكتاب ، حاليا تطرق الوان من الادب غير مطروق عربيا من قبل ، و للادباء غير شائعين ، و هي في ذلك موفقة في وجهة نظري و جريئة ، متطلع لقراءة المزيد من هذا .
الرواية تدور في حديث لا بنقطع للشيهم و هو يجلس في ظل شجرة و يحدثها ، يحكي لها و لنا كل ما دار مع سيده ، كل ما اضطر لفعله منذ تركه لقطيعه و هجرته ، يروي بلا انقطاع و في غياب تام لعلامات الترقيم الا من الفصلات ، الرواية حجمها صغير 150 ورقة الا انها مكثفة و رائعة
الترجمة جيدة ، و الطبعة في سلسلة الجوائز في شكلها الجديد ، رائعة ، و حجم القطع ممتاز و افضل من الشكل القديم ، كما انها اصبحت تمتاز بالجرأة ، شخصيا أحب الناشر الجرئ ، الذي يقدم شيئا جديدا و لا يلعب علي المضمون ، تقديم أدب أفريقي مترجم ، حتى و لو حصل علي جائزة فرنسية ، فهو شيئ لن يقدم عليه الكثير من الناشرين ، الهيئة العامة للكتاب ، حاليا تطرق الوان من الادب غير مطروق عربيا من قبل ، و للادباء غير شائعين ، و هي في ذلك موفقة في وجهة نظري و جريئة ، متطلع لقراءة المزيد من هذا .
January 20, 2016
This is a really funny novel that plays a lot with how humans perceive themselves and how cultures perceive themselves.
I haven't read many books by African authors, but this is certainly one I'd recommend. It's funny, insightful, and pretty quick.
It's made of a sequence of run-on sentences that sometimes stretch for pages. Despite that, it's never difficult to follow or read. It's probably one of the most readable novels with a strong formal experiment.
Anyrate, very great stuff. Interested in checking out other work by him.
I haven't read many books by African authors, but this is certainly one I'd recommend. It's funny, insightful, and pretty quick.
It's made of a sequence of run-on sentences that sometimes stretch for pages. Despite that, it's never difficult to follow or read. It's probably one of the most readable novels with a strong formal experiment.
Anyrate, very great stuff. Interested in checking out other work by him.
February 6, 2017
تجربتي الثانية مع الان موبانكو و الاتنين اجمل من بعض بصراحة
الكتاب رائع كفكرة و اثقلتها ترجمة الاستاذ ابوبكر العيادي الذي اكن له كل تقدير
******
لم اكن ادري ما اصنع و كنت ادور حول نفسي و قد بدا الحيز يضيق من حولي خشيت ان تقع السماء علي انقطع نفسي و صار كل شئ يرعبني قلت في نفسي لابد لي في الحال من دليل يثبت وجودي و لكن كيف تقنع نفسك انك موجود و انك لست قوقعة فارغه طيفا خاليا من الروح
*****
لا خير في لذة يفسدها الخوف
******
الكتاب رائع كفكرة و اثقلتها ترجمة الاستاذ ابوبكر العيادي الذي اكن له كل تقدير
******
لم اكن ادري ما اصنع و كنت ادور حول نفسي و قد بدا الحيز يضيق من حولي خشيت ان تقع السماء علي انقطع نفسي و صار كل شئ يرعبني قلت في نفسي لابد لي في الحال من دليل يثبت وجودي و لكن كيف تقنع نفسك انك موجود و انك لست قوقعة فارغه طيفا خاليا من الروح
*****
لا خير في لذة يفسدها الخوف
******
September 28, 2015
Fantastic story
February 18, 2020
siediti ai piedi di un baobab e col tempo vedrai l’Universo sfilare ai tuoi piedi
Curioso questo libro, e per l’argomento trattato, e per la scelta della scrittura: volutamente quasi senza punteggiatura (solo virgole, please), senza maiuscole (se non per i nomi di persone o cose importanti... è il minimo!), con capitoli brevi e paragrafi ancora più brevi (quasi dei flash, laddove ce ne sono!).
In questo racconto viene data voce ad un porcospino per raccontare un po’ di tradizione, colore e superstizione locale (congolese, in questo caso) attraverso molte azioni a dir poco violente, diventando lui di fatto l’esecutore materiale del malanimo, della violenza e della sete di vendetta (a volte gratuita) del suo padrone (di cui è il “doppio nocivo”, una sorta di animale-totem negativo), così come vuole una tra le più antiche leggende africane.
Lettura tutto sommato piacevole, che tra l’altro nasconde tra le righe molta, molta cultura, folcloristica e letteraria (digressioni, per l’animaletto in questione, ma la cosa mi ha piacevolmente sorpresa e mi sono ritrovata a riconoscere molte delle tracce descritte).
In effetti è un’attenta analisi della natura umana che viene qui spesso biasimata senza mezzi termini.
... non sono solo gli elefanti a possedere una buona memoria, questo è un altro dei pregiudizi della specie umana
Del resto, chi tra l’Uomo e l’animale è la vera bestia? Bella domanda!
Corpo di un porcospino!
📖 GRI - Parola del mese (feb/20): memoria
📚 GRI 2020 - Monopoli (VIA)
🗣 RC 2020 - Consigli feb/20 (da Alberto)
📚 RC 2020 - TBR 12
🔠 RC 2020 - Alphabet Autori: M
🌍 LdM - Mini sfida/Africa: task 34
🌍 Africa: Repubblica del Congo 🇨🇬
Curioso questo libro, e per l’argomento trattato, e per la scelta della scrittura: volutamente quasi senza punteggiatura (solo virgole, please), senza maiuscole (se non per i nomi di persone o cose importanti... è il minimo!), con capitoli brevi e paragrafi ancora più brevi (quasi dei flash, laddove ce ne sono!).
In questo racconto viene data voce ad un porcospino per raccontare un po’ di tradizione, colore e superstizione locale (congolese, in questo caso) attraverso molte azioni a dir poco violente, diventando lui di fatto l’esecutore materiale del malanimo, della violenza e della sete di vendetta (a volte gratuita) del suo padrone (di cui è il “doppio nocivo”, una sorta di animale-totem negativo), così come vuole una tra le più antiche leggende africane.
Lettura tutto sommato piacevole, che tra l’altro nasconde tra le righe molta, molta cultura, folcloristica e letteraria (digressioni, per l’animaletto in questione, ma la cosa mi ha piacevolmente sorpresa e mi sono ritrovata a riconoscere molte delle tracce descritte).
In effetti è un’attenta analisi della natura umana che viene qui spesso biasimata senza mezzi termini.
... non sono solo gli elefanti a possedere una buona memoria, questo è un altro dei pregiudizi della specie umana
Del resto, chi tra l’Uomo e l’animale è la vera bestia? Bella domanda!
Corpo di un porcospino!
📖 GRI - Parola del mese (feb/20): memoria
📚 GRI 2020 - Monopoli (VIA)
🗣 RC 2020 - Consigli feb/20 (da Alberto)
📚 RC 2020 - TBR 12
🔠 RC 2020 - Alphabet Autori: M
🌍 LdM - Mini sfida/Africa: task 34
🌍 Africa: Repubblica del Congo 🇨🇬
September 25, 2023
Tengo un poco de conflicto con este libro. Lo que no me gustó es más por gustos personales, la novela en sí es muy buena, así que imaginen que mi nota es más alta.
Este es un libro muy diferente a lo que he leído de África hasta el momento. Es, como literalmente dice el título, las memorias de un puercoespín. Es único, sí; tiene sustancia, menos de la que esperaba. Conocemos principalmente un par de tradiciones culturales de áfrica central y poco más.
Lo que no fue para mí: Primero, el estilo narrativo. El libro no tiene ni un solo punto. Es la oración más larga que he leído. Ni siquiera al final de los capítulos hay un punto. Y, como podrán ver, me gustan mucho los puntos xd. Ya en serio, sí encontré la lectura algo más compleja, aunque hay comas que actúan como puntos por lo que no se trata de realmente una oración larguísima sino de puntos disfrazados. ¿cuál es el punto de hacer eso? Ni idea, supongo que porque a los puercoespines no se les da bien la puntuación. Por otro lado, el libro es bastante humorístico. Unas bromas sí cuelan, otras, tratando de ser irreverentes, pues no.
Eso. Un libro bastante diferente a lo que he leído, pero nada que me haya gustado especialmente.
Este es un libro muy diferente a lo que he leído de África hasta el momento. Es, como literalmente dice el título, las memorias de un puercoespín. Es único, sí; tiene sustancia, menos de la que esperaba. Conocemos principalmente un par de tradiciones culturales de áfrica central y poco más.
Lo que no fue para mí: Primero, el estilo narrativo. El libro no tiene ni un solo punto. Es la oración más larga que he leído. Ni siquiera al final de los capítulos hay un punto. Y, como podrán ver, me gustan mucho los puntos xd. Ya en serio, sí encontré la lectura algo más compleja, aunque hay comas que actúan como puntos por lo que no se trata de realmente una oración larguísima sino de puntos disfrazados. ¿cuál es el punto de hacer eso? Ni idea, supongo que porque a los puercoespines no se les da bien la puntuación. Por otro lado, el libro es bastante humorístico. Unas bromas sí cuelan, otras, tratando de ser irreverentes, pues no.
Eso. Un libro bastante diferente a lo que he leído, pero nada que me haya gustado especialmente.
August 28, 2017
Gục xuống ở trang 112 sau gần 1 tuần bò theo từng câu văn ngoằn ngoèo không dấu chấm để dõi theo bước chân của 1 con nhím. Mà mình thì mình thích một con nhím là chính nó chứ không phải là "Phó bản" của ai cả, tức là ít ít phần nhân hóa thôi, giời ạ. Và vì nó không phải là một con nhím chính chuyên nên nó suy nghĩ rõ nhiều và liên thiên và nó nói xấu loài Sóc! Sao lại có sinh vật nào đó ghét sóc cơ chứ?
Cuốn sách này là tác phẩm của một tác giả châu Phi có thể tìm đọc từ Sách Chuyền Tay của Đường sách... Ừ, đấy là bước đầu tiên cần phải đi nếu bạn muốn theo dõi theo bước chân của một con nhím từ trang này sang trang nọ. Chấm tạch :ssss
Cuốn sách này là tác phẩm của một tác giả châu Phi có thể tìm đọc từ Sách Chuyền Tay của Đường sách... Ừ, đấy là bước đầu tiên cần phải đi nếu bạn muốn theo dõi theo bước chân của một con nhím từ trang này sang trang nọ. Chấm tạch :ssss
December 27, 2025
A very original novel in which a porcupine, the evil “animal double” of a young man, tells a Baobab tree about how it came that he became the double and how it all ended. The porcupine comments openly about human behaviour, culture and relationships in Congo-Brazzaville and ends up doing the dirty work for his human boss by eliminating the people the latter got into a conflict with.
Smooth writing and pleasurable reading in this novel by an excellent author.
Smooth writing and pleasurable reading in this novel by an excellent author.
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