Death and the King's Horseman

by Wole Soyinka

A Nobel Prize-winning playwright's classic tale of tragic decisions in a traditional African culture. Based on events that took place in Oyo, an ancient Yoruba city of Nigeria, in 1946, Wole Soyinka's powerful play concerns the intertwined lives of Elesin Oba, the king's chief horseman; his son, Olunde, now studying medicine in England; and Simon Pilkings, the colonial district officer. The king has died and Elesin, his chief horseman, is expected by law and custom to commit suicide and accompany his ruler to heaven. The stage is set for a dramatic climax when Pilkings learns of the ritual and decides to intervene and Elesin's son arrives home.

Genres: Plays, Drama, Fiction, Africa, Classics, Nigeria, Theatre

77 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1975

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.

Akinwande Oluwole Babatunde Soyinka, known as Wole Soyinka, is a Nigerian playwright, novelist, poet, and essayist in the English language. He was awarded the 1986 Nobel Prize in Literature for his "wide cultural perspective and... poetic overtones fashioning the drama of existence", the first sub-Saharan African to be honoured in that category.
Soyinka was born into a Yoruba family in Abeokuta. In 1954, he attended Government College in Ibadan, and subsequently University College Ibadan and the University of Leeds in England. After studying in Nigeria and the UK, he worked with the Royal Court Theatre in London. He went on to write plays that were produced in both countries, in theatres and on radio. He took an active role in Nigeria's political history and its campaign for independence from British colonial rule. In 1965, he seized the Western Nigeria Broadcasting Service studio and broadcast a demand for the cancellation of the Western Nigeria Regional Elections. In 1967, during the Nigerian Civil War, he was arrested by the federal government of General Yakubu Gowon and put in solitary confinement for two years, for volunteering to be a non-government mediating actor.
Soyinka has been a strong critic of successive Nigerian (and African at large) governments, especially the country's many military dictators, as well as other political tyrannies, including the Mugabe regime in Zimbabwe. Much of his writing has been concerned with "the oppressive boot and the irrelevance of the colour of the foot that wears it". During the regime of General Sani Abacha (1993–98), Soyinka escaped from Nigeria on a motorcycle via the "NADECO Route". Abacha later proclaimed a death sentence against him "in absentia". With civilian rule restored to Nigeria in 1999, Soyinka returned to his nation.
In Nigeria, Soyinka was a Professor of Comparative literature (1975 to 1999) at the Obafemi Awolowo University, then called the University of Ifẹ̀. With civilian rule restored to Nigeria in 1999, he was made professor emeritus. While in the United States, he first taught at Cornell University as Goldwin Smith professor for African Studies and Theatre Arts from 1988 to 1991 and then at Emory University, where in 1996 he was appointed Robert W. Woodruff Professor of the Arts. Soyinka has been a Professor of Creative Writing at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and has served as scholar-in-residence at New York University's Institute of African American Affairs and at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles, California. He has also taught at the universities of Cambridge, Oxford, Harvard and Yale, and was also a Distinguished Scholar in Residence at Duke University in 2008.
In December 2017, Soyinka was awarded the Europe Theatre Prize in the "Special Prize" category, awarded to someone who has "contributed to the realization of cultural events that promote understanding and the exchange of knowledge between peoples".

Reviews

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a delight to read a play again, after quite a while!

Death and the King's Horseman is a classical tragedy, with a distinct dramatic event that triggers the plot. Set in colonial Nigeria, the external conflict circles around the two different value systems of British administrators and local dignitaries. However, Wole Soyinka himself insists in an interview accompanying the play that the setting is secondary, and the individuals are at the centre of attention. The drama could unfold without the intrusion of the British Empire, as it is human, not cultural, in essence.

According to Yoruba belief, the King's horseman has to commit ritual suicide after the king has died, in order to guide the king properly to the next world. In exchange for this community duty, he lives a life of luxury and privilege. Elesin, the main character, however, is prevented from doing his duty during the burial rites for the deceased king, partly because the British administration intervenes, but mostly because he himself hesitates and has a moment of weakness.

His estranged son, who returns from studies in England, commits suicide in his place to restore order in the community, while Elesin kills himself in shame.

So far so good, a classical antigonesque plot: ancient rites versus new government, common laws versus religious duties, family members in disgrace that need to be restored to the way of the ancestors, bravery and cowardice, ... I see many parallel storylines between Sophocles' famous play set in Ancient Greece and Wole Soyinka's modern African version.

The characters have strengths and weaknesses, they all have a point, even though some characters come across as more sympathetic than others. They are fully fleshed out, complete human beings, not stereotypes.

Even the British administration is shown from various angles, demonstrating different levels of understanding. Wole Soyinka makes a clear statement against black and white characters, who are either completely right or wrong. He argues that it depends on his own mood how he judges his own main character, as he can see the actions from different perspectives. This clearly brings Antigone in Sophocles' interpretation to mind. Creon and Antigone are both given the opportunity to develop their thoughts, and both could possibly have acted differently and been justified to do so.

The most interesting character, in my opinion, is Olunde, the Horseman's son, who has spent four years in England to train as a doctor, and who comes back with the idea that he wants to support his old Yoruba tradition. My favourite part of the play is his dialogue with Jane, the most nuanced British character, who tries to understand at least partially how the Yoruba think:

"Olunde (mildly): And that is the good cause for which you desecrate an ancestral mask?

Jane: Oh, so you are shocked after all. How disappointing.

Olunde: No I am not shocked, Mrs Pilkings. You forget that I have now spent four years among your people. I discovered that you have no respect for what you do not understand."

This strikes me as the most significant difference between the British colonisers and the educated Yoruba: while Olunde has spent his four years trying to see and grasp the British way of life so that he will be able to judge it according to his own knowledge and convictions, the Pilkings and their friends remain childishly ignorant of the real life of the people they claim to rule and educate. They challenge deeply rooted fears and beliefs and cause harm, even within their own community, because they don't understand, and therefore do not respect the thoughts of the people with whom they share their space.

It made me think of society in Europe in the 18th century, when Kant proclaimed that enlightenment was man's release from self-incurred tutelage.

The British colonisers' refusal to make use of knowledge and understanding weakens them, and Elesin's refusal to think things through to the bitter end and see the ultimate consequences of his choices triggers his disgrace and painful, late death.

Olunde symbolises practical reasoning and ability to see which actions lead to specific results. His choices are enlightened, he acts with responsibility and awareness. The message of the play seems to be that each human being will face the consequences of his or her actions, and that childish refusal to see beyond the surface will lead to destructive events.

I thoroughly enjoyed this African take on classical drama, and Wole Soyinka clearly demonstrates his own rootedness both in Western and Yoruba tradition. The paly ends on a hopeful note, with the strong Yoruba woman Iyaloja in charge of the closing remarks:

"Now forget the dead, forget even the living. Turn your mind only to the unborn."

Outlook on the future. That is a modern take on tragedy.

[Brian · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Life is honor. It ends when honor ends." (2.5 stars)

I never would have read DEATH AND THE KING’S HORSEMAN if I were not about to see it in professional performance in a few days. I am glad that I am seeing a production, which I am hoping will only enhance my appreciation of the text. As it stands today, I am not sure what I think about this play. I freely admit that there are moments in it that I am sure went right over my head.

The plot in brief- a Yoruba tribal king has died. His horseman is supposed to commit ritual suicide 30 days after the death. The colonial forces in Nigeria get wind of it, and attempt to stop it.

I feel this piece is metaphysical, maybe a bit political. It definitely deals with the idea of the traditional, and its power. I am just not sure I cared all that much for the mash up. At least as it was done in this text.

Quotes:
• “What a thing it is, that even those we call immortal should fear to die.”
• “Who does not seek to be remembered?”
• “Because he could not bear to let honor fly out of doors, he stopped it with his life.”
• “Should voyagers not travel light?”

The ending of the play is quick, and theatrically efficient. I’m not sure what I think of it (noticing a theme here) but it does seem appropriate.

Once I see this in performance, I think my feelings about DEATH AND THE HORSEMAN, either positive or negative, will be more settled.

POSTSCRIPT-I have now seen the play in performance. I was not a fan of the production, and it actually decreased my appreciation for the text. I am going to forget the production and try to remember the read.

[Sue · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wole Soyinka has written a powerful drama which treats of culture clash, ancient and modern custom, racial assumptions, entitlements, the clash of the sexes and of religions as well as of history. There is also the unsubtle history of colonialism and British superiority with condescension sprinkled throughout the dramatic interactions.

Off stage, before the action of the drama, in Yoruba, Nigeria, a King has died. Elesin Oba, the king's chief horseman, is now expected to join his king in death--a death Elesin has expected his entire adult life. It is a part of his culture and custom, his people's culture and custom. It is his duty and expectation. Simon Pilkings, the colonial district officer, does not see this as a custom he can accept and his actions and their ramifications create the tensions of the play. (after the opening sequence which sets the scene for Elesin's situation.)

According to the author this play is based on events that actually occurred and I know that I want to read more about this play and its various interpretations. No matter how literal each character is--or is not--to be interpreted, there is no diluting the power of this drama. The power of the King, the power of his place in his people's lives, the power of the chief horseman in his last days, the power of the women of the tribe who act as goddesses or priestesses or intercessors.Then there is the institutional power of the colonial district officer which has no custom behind it, only foreign law which is unrelated and unknowing.

I do recommend this to anyone interested in African literature. I intend to broaden my reach in the area, most definitely.

[Cherisa B · Rating 5 out of 5]

It would be easy to focus a review of this book on the clash of cultures, and though wonderfully handled here, there are lots of books about that. What I found astonishing and eye-opening was the Yoruba belief system and cultural depth of death and the responsibilities of the native society’s members around it. The absolute certitude of belief and yet the offhand dismissal of them by the colonial masters creates deep relief on how ANY religious beliefs are just magical thinking.

The native characters are deep, and beautifully and believably drawn, including the son who went to London for modern medical training and returned to honor his estranged father. The colonial characters are successfully drawn with all their typical colonial master smugness and arrogance.

I would love to see this staged.

Nobel laureate I want to read more of.

[Edita · Rating 5 out of 5]

Does the deep voice of gbedu cover you then, like the passage of royal elephants? Those drums that brook no rivals, have they blocked the passage to your ears that my voice passes into wind, a mere leaf floating in the night? Is your flesh lightened Elesin, is that lump of earth I slid between your slippers to keep you longer slowly sifting from your feet? Are the drums on the other side now tuning skin to skin with ours in osugbo? Are there sounds there I cannot hear, do footsteps surround you which pound the earth like gbedu, roll like thunder round the dome of the world? Is the darkness gathering in
your head Elesin? Is there now a streak of light at the end of the passage, a light I dare not look upon? Does it reveal whose voices we often heard, whose touches we often felt, whose wisdoms come suddenly into the mind when the wisest have shaken their heads and murmured; It cannot be done? Elesin Alafin, don't think I do not know why your lips are heavy, why your limbs are drowsy as palm oil in the cold of harmattan. I would call you back but when the elephant heads for the jungle, the tail is too small a handhold for the hunter that would pull him back. The sun that heads for the sea no longer heeds the prayers of the farmer. When the river begins to taste the salt of the ocean, we no longer know what deity to call on, the river-god or Olokun. No arrow flies back to the string, the child does not return through the same passage that gave it birth. Elesin Oba, can you hear me at all?

[Valentina Vekovishcheva · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nobel prizes aren't given for nothing

[✨ jami ✨ · Rating 4 out of 5]

University reading. An interesting play revolving around Yoruba culture based on a true story. I found some of the dialogue difficult to read but it would be an AMAZING play to see live.

[Emily]

Of all the Norton Critical Editions I've read recently (and it seems like I'm busting right through my back-log over the past few weeks!), the one whose extra materials I found most useful is Wole Soyinka's Death and the King's Horseman. Which is kind of ironic, since a big theme in this post-colonialist Nigerian drama is the cultural arrogance of western white folks who think that because they've been educated in England, they know best how to interpret and control the cultural traditions of the "natives" colonized by the Crown. As I perused the appendices of my scholarly volume, all working to foster an understanding of Nigerian culture and "background sources" in the predominantly-white US undergraduate population, I'll admit to a rueful smile. What would Soyinka think of the book I'm holding in my hands? Obviously, I don't know the answer, but my bet is that he would feel, as he did about many things, somewhat ambivalent. Son of Westernized Anglican schoolteachers and educated in the most toney of Nigerian prep schools before leaving for University in England, Soyinka identified as "truly bi-cultural"; out of this background came a deep grounding in the Western canon, as well as the Yoruba beliefs of his grandfather, and an acquaintance with the ways in which the English thought of their own subjective perceptions as "natural" and "universal," and anything else as barbaric. Perhaps this background explains some of the reason that, in contrast to many of his liberation-era contemporaries, Soyinka wasn't primarily interested in educating white folks about Nigeria, but about making Nigerian literature that referred to its own subjective universe. From the introduction:

Soyinka has no patience for those who argue that works of art are most effective when they are clear, direct and didactic ... [He:] was unhappy with the romanticism, naïveté, and idealization of the African image in classic African novels such as Camara Laye's The Dark Child. He understood the political imperative behind such works - namely, the desire by a whole generation of African writers to counter the European image of Africa - but was categorical in his belief that idealization was not a substitute for what he considered to be literary truth. However, in explaining why he had disavowed and attacked movements that celebrated African or black identity, Soyinka was keen to insist that he was not against the idea of the African world as such ... He wanted the African world ... to be taken for granted as a self-evident cultural experience. As far as Soyinka was concerned, the artist's commitment was not to a particular idea of Africa, a set of political or ideological commitments, but the self-apprehension of the African world.

I have to say, I was cheering Soyinka on here, and I hadn't even started reading his play yet. I've always found it so awkward - almost dirty-feeling - to be reading a novel about a non-US culture, and suddenly get the feeling that its primary goal is to educate US/European/first-world readers about The Other. I mean, novels where the narrator (or even the speaking character!) takes time out to explain every culture-specific term she uses: how unnatural is that? It makes it really difficult to craft believable characters, because who stops in the midst of their dinner preparations to think to themselves, "Now I'll open the refrigerator: a large metal box in the corner of my kitchen, which keeps my food cold via an electric current running through coils near the floor"? This kind of aside is so disruptive to the narrative, and so inaccurately representative of how peoples' minds actually work. (And yeah, that's a comic exaggeration, but I've read examples almost as bad! Even in novels as acclaimed as Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart, I got this vibe.) In actual life, people take for granted their everyday surroundings and cultural contexts, and I applaud Soyinka for creating characters who do so as well. At the same time, it does make the learning curve on his play a sharp one for anyone coming to it from the Western tradition.

Nevertheless, an aficionada of English literature is never wholly at sea. Death and the King's Horseman opens in an almost Shakespearean manner: Elesin, the primary horseman of the late king, engages in verbal parry and thrust with his "Praise-Singer" in a way that reminded me of a kind of reverse take on Lear's relationship with his Fool. They're bantering about Elesin's planned transition to the land of the spirits and ancestors; the king he served has died, and it's now his duty (along with the King's favorite horse and his trusty dog) to join his master. Central to the play's tragedy is the different metaphysical realities of Yoruba people and their English colonizers: for the English, an act they understand as "suicide" is both a crime and a sin, as well as the end of a life, whereas in the Yoruba cosmos (according to my Norton, at least), Elesin is merely helping the natural order of the world continue on its course by helping the spirit of his King through the door to the world of gods and spirits. Elesin greets his impending transition with cocky joy; he radiates strength and will, dancing with and around the market women, and singing a long song about the foolishness of those who attempt to evade Death. His Praise-Singer is his straight-man and his counter-point as he teases the women, and claims, on his prerogative as an honored man about to pass to the next world, one last young bride:

ELESIN      All you who stand before the spirit that dares

The opening of the last door of passage,

Dare to rid my going of regrets! My wish

Transcends the blotting out of thought

In one mere moment's tremor of the senses.

Do me credit. And do me honour.

I am girded for the route beyond

Burdens of waste and longing.

Then let me travel light. Let

Seed that will not serve the stomach

On the way remain behind. Let it take root

In the earth of my choice, in this earth

I leave behind.

In contrast to this vital, cocksure young horseman, we are introduced to the colonial bureaucrat Simon Pilkings, all set to attend a fancy-dress ball with his wife Jane (in ceremonial "death cult" attire confiscated from the natives, no less) when he gets word of the rumor that a local chief is about to take his own life. Because the Prince is visiting the colony, and because Simon wants to show he is in charge, he takes it upon himself to "save" Elesin from his impending death; tragedy ensues.

Despite certain references and metaphysical contexts of Yoruba life that might be unclear to Western readers, it's obvious that Soyinka is drawing heavily on the traditions of the Western canon as well. The contrast between Elesin's nobility and Pilkings's essential pettiness, for example, is communicated brilliantly through the differences in their modes of speech: whereas Elesin delivers most of his speeches in the nobility of blank verse, Simon's and Jane's speech is utterly banal prose, peppered with bourgeois British colloquialisms:

PILKINGS      You know the Prince is on a tour of the colonies don't you? Well, he docked in the capital only this morning but he is already at the Residency. He is going to grace the ball with his presence later tonight.

JANE      Simon! Not really.

PILKINGS      Yes he is. He's been invited to give away the prizes and he has agreed. You must admit old Engleton is the best Club Secretary we ever had. Quite quick off the mark that lad.

JANE      But how thrilling.

Without giving away too much of the plot and the tragic denouement, I'll just say that the final scene of the play does interesting things with this dichotomy that's been set up between the blind demands of bureaucracy and the individual's ability to be noble within the context of his or her own society. Soyinka apparently despised and fought against the tendency of critics to interpret his play as merely a chronicle of an oppressive colonial encounter, and pleaded with his audiences to look beyond the historical details of the play to the metaphysical truths within. I think the most universal message that I got out of Death and the King's Horseman is that even the traits we hold most intrinsic to our personalities - our confidence that we will react a certain way in a certain situation, our vitality, the decrees of our moral compass that X is right and Y is wrong - are dependent, not only on our general background and upbringing, but on our immediate circumstances, and can be altered forever in a single moment.

Death and the King's Horseman, like all plays, loses a lot by being read on paper rather than watched in performance. I don't read a lot of drama, for exactly this reason: plays yearn to be interpreted by a company, and reading them to myself always comes off as flat. Soyinka's work suffers perhaps more than most drama in this regard, because his Yoruba characters use music and dance as important modes of character expression - modes that are obviously not present in my head. Still, I am glad I read this play and some of its accompanying materials, and I would leap at the chance to see a good performance of it live.

[Dioni · Rating 4 out of 5]

First published at: http://www.meexia.com/bookie/2016/03/...

Death and the King's Horseman is a play by Wole Soyinka, a Nigerian and the first African to be honored the Nobel Prize in Literature. The play was published 1975, and Soyinka won the prize in 1986. I was reading this together with my GR book group. It also adds nicely to my Nobel project and my intention to read more plays.

The play is inspired by a real life incident that took place in Nigeria during the British occupation: the horseman of a king was prevented to do his last duty on earth, which is to commit a ritual suicide - to follow his king into the afterlife and help lead the way.

Everybody has a duty. The king's horseman Elesin has lived a lavished lifestyle, with the understanding of the duty his community expects him to perform one day. Failure to do this would throw everything out of balance. The British officer Simon Pilkings also has a duty, and that is to keep order in the Majesty's realm. A murder - that includes killing oneself, is a disorder and does not make sense to the British eyes. The stake is made higher as the Prince is visiting when this event takes place, so Pilkings is desperate to resolve (resorting to postpone) the problem without the Prince noticing.

The other important characters include Iyaloja, a matriarch of the market - so in effect, the community; and the horseman's son Olunde who has gone to study abroad in England and come back when he heard the news about the death of the king, knowing the implication for his father.

In one way it is very much about the issue of colonization, though Soyinka doesn't like it to be categorized that narrowly, as mentioned in the extra materials of my edition. It's about a clash of cultures, but it could be between any cultures or subcultures, and does not necessarily point its finger to the white colonists vs the natives.

Soyinka is of Yoruba tribe in Nigeria, so this story is about people of Yoruba. To contrast, Chinua Achebe and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie are both Igbo people. I haven't read enough Nigerian literature to know the subtle differences, but I found these interesting. It just happens that the colleague sitting next to me is a Yoruba Nigerian, and he said his mother knows Soyinka personally (which I guess isn't very surprising if they're from the same tribe). He mentioned that there are some conflicts in the past between the tribes (Yoruba and Igbo are 2 of the 3 biggest tribes in Nigeria) but things are well now, and in fact his wife is Igbo. And that's my little crash course on Nigerian tribes :)

I had the opportunity to go to Wole Soyinka's talk at the British Library a couple of weeks ago - which was a very nice conjunction with my book group discussion (it's online and nobody is in London - so I went by myself). It was a full house and more than half of the audience were Nigerian or African descent, so he seemed a very well respected man. I had my edition of Death and the King's Horseman signed, but the signing was very rushed so I'm a bit disappointed on that end.

Last interesting point is Soyinka writes in English, so his works are not translated. His choice of language to produce his art is somewhat a sore point among different groups of people, as English is obviously the colonist language. This was asked also at the talk, and his answer is somewhere along the line of wanting to have his work as far reaching as possible. He also writes in his native language, but mostly privately. Considering that he did his higher studies in England and therefore went through Western education, I can absolutely understand this reasoning.

Mee's rating: 4/5 - Great selection for book group as there are a lot of things to discuss. I can recommend my edition: Methuen Student Edition (pictured above) as it has plenty of extra materials to help you better understand the play and its place in the context of society and its time. Since reading this play I've been looking for more plays in Methuen Student Edition, which luckily my favorite secondhand bookshop in Charing Cross has many.

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

From BBC Radio 3 - Drama on 3:
In celebration of Wole Soyinka's 80th birthday, a drama based on a real event in 1940s Nigeria. A colonial district officer intervenes to prevent a local man committing ritual suicide

Death And The King's Horseman is considered to be Professor Soyinka's greatest play. In awarding Soyinka the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1986, the Swedish Academy drew special attention to Death and the King's Horseman as evidence of his talent for combining Yoruban and European culture into a unique kind of poetic drama.

Composer and Musical director, Juwon Ogungbe.

[Susie Nazzaro · Rating 5 out of 5]

An incredibly subtle statement on culture, imperialism, and tradition that masterfully explains the complexities of cultural interaction and do gooders in the context of the British colonial empire in Africa. This is the story of a British colonial officer in Africa who is appalled at a tradition that the King's horseman commits suicide to be alongside the dead king, and intervenes to stop the suicide with tragic consequences. It is very hard to write this story without caricatures and over-simplified plot lines, and Soyinka's ability to do this shines through every word. Years after reading this play, it has stuck with me as an example of how very good, kind, well-meaning people can nevertheless create tragic events due to cultural misunderstanding even as they try to prevent death.

[Wale · Rating 4 out of 5]

A somber and threnodic theme runs through this play. It demonstrates how men's lives are bound up in the cultural bubble in which they were conceived and brought forth; this cuts across races, tribes, ethnicities and epoch.
Many today would consider themselves modern, independent and learned as compared to those who lived say 1000years ago. But the truth is if they had been living 1000years ago their world outlook would only mirror and conform to that particular period. Which raises the question; is there really any such thing as 'independent thinking'? Or are we simply products of our environment?

[aidan · Rating 5 out of 5]

basically brilliant. crazy insane batshit ending. it's a tough opening, act i is hard to follow and soyinka refuses to provide handholds - he wants a culture shock. but you don't win a nobel prize for nothing (nor does the nobel committee casually mention one of your plays in their citation without good reason). every character feels human, no one is perfect, no one is right, no one proclaims an obvious agenda. just death and life, and misunderstanding and pain. a play you want to discuss, and to see a real production of.

I have no father, eater of left-overs.

Our world is tumbling in the void of strangers, Elesin.

[Jonfaith · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of my co-workers is involved in an online romance with someone from Nigeria.
It is the season.
During the cursory conversation where I discovered this, I thought rather often that I should be reading more Soyinka.
So I did.
Much of the play was rather familiar and I suspect I read this some time ago. The plot is pretty simple--native religious rites are halted by the colonialists for reasons of alleged civilization and, also, as a fumble for propriety. The fated Horseman is a remarkable character; the colonial authority is truly human.

[Bettie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bettie's Books

[Nate · Rating 5 out of 5]

Be sure to read the author's note, because if you don't, you might take it as an East vs. West, colonial vs. tribal, new vs. old story as it would appear on first reading. But in his note, Soyinka states that the "threnodic essence" of the work is a theme even more universal: "the numinous passage which links all: transition." Change is indeed common to us all, and as my mother-in-law points out, change is usually perceived as bad. Yet change is something we all must come to terms with, and since one of literature's great benefits is to act as a mental dress rehearsal for life, this lean play (acessible on first reading, yet rich enough to reread) should find a place on every thoughtful reader's shelf.

The university-educated Soyinka (as one can infer from the author's note) has quite the erudite vocabulary, yet the prose style of Death and the King's Horseman reminded me more of ancient Greek tragedy in translation than anything else: simple yet poetic phrasing, and the homespun proverbial sayings of a pre-industrial age. What struck me as an information-age Westerner was how many of these Yoruba sayings (being related to animals or farming) were hard to relate to; an incidental lesson of this book was how detached from the natural world I've become. Visiting nature for recreation isn't the same as having your livelihood dependent on it.

Another aspect of this play that happens to be particularly interesting in juxtaposition to the film juggernaut of Avatar is that neither the Nigerian characters nor the English are portrayed as completely right or wrong, sympathetic or not. Sure, the English come off as somewhat ignorant intruders, yet they act in good faith; conversely, Elesin, the protagonist, initially appears heroic but as events unfold he grows less so. Whereas in Avatar the modern Westerners are evil caricatures and the Na'vi noble savages, in Soyinka's work matters are more nuanced--more like real life.

[Leslie · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5*

Wow! A powerful play based on a real-life event. To quote from Soyinka's Author's Note at the beginning of my edition,
"   The bane of themes of this genre is that they are no sooner employed creatively than they acquire the facile tag of 'clash of cultures', a prejudicial label which, quite apart from its frequent misapplication, presupposes a potential equality in every given situation of the alien culture and the indigenous one, on the actual soil of the latter. ... It is thanks to this kind of perverse mentality that I find it necessary to caution the would-be producer of this play against a sadly familiar reductionist tendency, and to direct his vision instead to the far more difficult and risky task of eliciting the play's threnodic essence."

With this in my mind as I read the play, I tried to not focus on the conflict between the English colonial government and the Yoruba natives but on the transition between life and death that the King's Horseman is facing.

[S P · Rating 2 out of 5]

The blurb compares this to plays such as Antigone, but I think it falls short of that in its imitations. At times I felt the lines were too disconnected, too alienating (both topic wise and lyrically) to the reader--although I totally think this may be a culture difference. As someone who just finished reading a collection of Sophocles and Euripides, I feel that this play is an imitation. It's too many jangles and not enough meaning--towards the end the idea of transitioning, of death, slowly starts to be realised but the mark is missed. Pilkins as an 'imperialist' character is far too one-dimensional, Jane not developed enough (though one of the more interesting characters). I really want to like this play, but I don't think it holds enough tragic power--something is not transmuted through into the translated words.

[Czarny Pies · Rating 3 out of 5]

Death and the King's Horseman tells the story of a man who wants to stay in the realm of the living when he already belongs to the realm of the dead. The results are tragic for himself and for his nation. Bravo to Simon Gikandi, editor of the Norton Critical Edition that I read. His outstanding selection of analytical and expository articles enabled me to properly appreciate Soyinka's brilliant play. The text is dense. The characters are all clearly drawn and the dialogues are superb. The play rigorously adheres to the Aristotelian model while eloquently pleading for Yoruba Cosmology. Death and the King's Horseman is a masterpiece of twentieth century theatre.

[Donya Villarreal · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn't care for the beginning, which used poetic language.....I was somewhat lost through Act I. Thank goodness, this was the only place I struggled. All in all, it had a good message: don't judge that which you don't understand.

[Meera Nair · Rating 2 out of 5]

A play based on the natives of Yoruba, Death and the King’s Horseman marks the journey of Elesin Oba (the chief Horseman of the King) who is meant to sacrifice his life and follow the dead King into the afterlife. Filled with ritualistic nuances and a strong emphasis on the conflicts between colonizer and colonized, the play portrays Elesin’s conviction to perform the ritual and ultimate failure in sticking to his words. Simon Pilkings, a British Officer, not only intervenes in the sacrificial ritual but plays an integral role in sending Elesin’s eldest son Olunde abroad to study, thereby separating father and son. The ploy of the colonizers to tame the supposedly “uncivilized” natives pushes the plot forward to its ultimate disheartening end.

We had to read this play as part of the curriculum for Postcolonial Literature in college. While the authenticity of the culture of Yoruba natives is kept intact through their dismissal of the colonizers rules, their freedom to practice rituals as per their heritage is denied because of the might of the colonizer. Apart from the theme of culture and freedom, we also witness a spark in the Women of the society who know their place and are firm in their beliefs. They are depicted to be the strong face of Resistance that is gradually building up. I found the character of Simon Pilkings to be so infuriating and that of his wife Jane Pilkings to be rather insensitive and foolish. Even though she is more docile and approachable than Simon, she doesn’t stand up for herself when mistreated by him. Her views are unworthy in his eye as he often orders her to “shut up”.

The innate tendency of the colonizer to classify what they don’t comprehend as “insane”, “barbaric” is more than evident in the manner Simon speaks about the natives. The plot is so rich in the way it intersperses the fight of indigenous people – against foreign forces that attempt to oppress them in their own lands – with that of the ignorance of the colonizer which finally leads to dire consequences. It was very enlightening and wholesome but I had to give it a 2 star rating because of Elesin’s monologues and dialogues with others which flew above my head. I didn’t understand most of what he was trying to say as he always spoke in riddles. I had to rely on a lot of other sources to get the gist of it. And I believe that if you can’t make sense of what’s going on in a book then you can’t get the complete essence of it. So while the story is really good, I found it difficult to process a lot of the content.

[Ami Lea · Rating 3 out of 5]

After reading the Author's Note, I had high hopes for this play. I really appreciated the blunt nature with which Soyinka described his work, and I found his assertion that it was not a story about colonialism or a clash of cultures interesting. The first of many problems with this story is that it is indeed a story about prejudice and colonialism. The entire theme of the play centers around a clash of cultures. Soyinka is Nigerian, and wanted the reader to focus more on the Yoruba culture and the life after death theme. However, that part of the tale is so secondary to everything else that's going on, it is hard to give credence to it. Without having any real knowledge about the Yoruba culture, I am unable to appreciate the piece the way the author intended. I have no knowledge of cosmology or the other aspects of the Nigerian culture. I noticed the huge disparity in understanding between the two cultures, and I appreciated the lesson within the play; We need to learn to understand and respect one another. (Live and let live). This is a lesson that is just as useful now as it was in the past. I hated the language Soyinka used for the play. I read that this style is typically called "lyrical." However, I thought it was a hot mess. The entire play is full of clichés, short sentences, word repetition, and abundant nonsensical metaphors. While some of the insults used by the characters are interesting and a nice change of pace from the otherwise bleak nature of the play, they lack any real punch. The changes in tone within the dialogue further illustrate the culture clash that is evident here. Soyinka's use of accents is insulting, and he largely marginalizes his characters through his use of broken English dialogue. It's lazy writing. It feels almost like he is trying to write in the style of Shakespeare or T.S Eliot, with the abundant sorrow and tragedy of the story. However, Shakespeare knew how to write a great play. His story about clashing cultures, The Tempest, was a work of genius and extremely funny. Even the evil characters, like Caliban and Antonio, were friendly and likeable. There is no one to like In Death and the King's Horseman. There is no character development, no backstory, ect. It's just a badly written play about the British attitude towards cultural sacrifice.

[Matt · Rating 3 out of 5]

European and African culture clash over the impending ritual suicide of a chief. Characters from the two cultures consistently show a desire NOT to understand one another. Ideas about death saturate the play and reveal deep roots to the cultural differences. In the end, though, I felt that the Yoruba culture was striking in its similarities to the world's better known cultures. The play left no doubt that the Yoruba culture is a patriarchy unconcerned about denying rights and choices from women so high-ranking men can enjoy a sexual conquest. And its religion, pressing its adherents to hurry toward a nonexistent spirit world, insists on the familiar false hope for eternal life.

[Kyle Storie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an incredible play! Soyinka truly reinvented plays with this work. Its shifts in dialogue from very elevated figurative language when the Nigerians are speaking to the more colloquial and basic jargon of the British who colonized the country is fascinating. It explores themes of race, principles and the practice of willing oneself to die. I recommend this play to anyone who has the time to really analyze and understand the language.

[Paige · Rating 2 out of 5]

Just something I had to read for class.

[Saige · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved the way Soyinka dealt with honour and culture in this text. He didn't make it a simple comparison piece between British and Yoruba cultures. He really took the time and space to focus the conflict within the mind and spirit of one man, and to expand that consciousness to encompass an entire town. I found the poetry lyrical and stunning, and the way it contrasted with the sharp speech of British characters was fascinating. Truly a work of art and a drama that will endure throughout the decades.

[Rudy · Rating 4 out of 5]

“And does quiet mean peace for you?”
4/5

[Sidharth Vardhan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not I became the answering-name
Of the restless bird, that little one
Whom Death found nesting in the leaves
When whisper of his coming ran
Before him on the wind.
Not I has long abandoned home.
This same dawn I heard him twitter in the gods' abode.
Ah, companions of this living world
What a thing this is, that even those
We call immortal Should fear to die.

It is based on a true incident and has in its roots, a Yoruba tradition that death of a chief must be followed by ritual suicide of the chief’s horseman because horseman’s spirit is essential for helping the chief’s spirit to ascend to other world (or it shall wander the Earth and harm people.) I think this explains the title. The king is dead and, Elsin, his horse-man is more than willing to kill himself. He feels duty bound to it – and would rather die than have his honor questioned:

Life has an end. A life that will outlive
Fame and friendship begs another name.
What elder takes his tongue to his plate,
Licks it clean of every crumb? He will encounter
Silence when he calls on children to fulfill
The smallest errand ! Life is honour.
It ends when honour ends.

Of course, I don’t subscribe to this view. Sometimes, I think the best way to make people do something stupid is to either tell them that gods asked them to do so or make them look at the thing as ‘honorable’.

Now, the ritual suicide is intervened by British government. In his author note, Soyinka warns against seeing it as a ‘clash of cultures’. I think I can understand his frustration. It is also not intended to be anti-colonial – ‘the colonial factor’ he says is only incidental.

Although he does seem to be trying to silence, in advance, any judgments from cross-cultural readings:

“Of course you have also mastered the art of calling things by names which don't remotely describe them.”

Again, when colonial officer’s wife calls the ritual feudalistic, Olunde (Elesin’s son) points to her the parties of British royal classes when war is on.

“Don't forget I was attached to hospitals all the time. Hordes of your wounded passed through those wards. I spoke to them. I spent long evenings by their bedside while they spoke terrible truths of the realities of that war. I know now how history is made."

Also, Soyinka doesn’t want you to care about easily-imaginable officer’s dilemma –whether or not to intervene the ritual suicide. It is Elesin that is supposed to be the main character – you are supposed to understand him; understand his wish to do what he had lived all his life thinking he is duty bound to – and to do that you need a mind which has known nothing but Yoruba tradition. Everyone in the tribe, including his studying-in-European-to-be-a-doctor son, had thought him as good as dead when king died – and they thought it was right thing as well. In fact the atmosphere has a big role to play – most apparent in tribe’s emphasis on rhetoric and idoms:

“Even a tear-veiled Eye preserves its function of sight.”

The power of tradition also comes out in that ending which I won’t give away, but haven’t people in all cultures struggled whenever forced to break away from traditions?

But this young shoot has poured its sap into the parent stalk, and we know this is not the way of life. Our world is tumbling in the void of strangers, Elesin.

The logic behind it may not make sense to us but that is irrelevant, it makes sense to Elesin and that is what matters:

“What can you offer him in place of his peace of mind, in place of the honour and veneration of his own people?

It is thus about guilt and agony of a person who has lived a honorable life – and suddenly finds himself failed to perform his duty. An undeserved life is all he is left to live whose honor wanted him dead - a left-over.

And now back to officer’s dilemma, since I can’t help it whatever Soyinka say. The officer in this case was very clear that he will interfere and nothing makes him doubt his decision – perhaps that ending did but it was too late. So, should you interfere? I don’t know. Merely the fact something can be called ‘culture’ shouldn't put it beyond criticism. I think it was a right thing for British government of India to ban Sati ritual. But that was almost always forced while in this case, Elesin is not harming anyone but himself (aside from the fact that he took a new ‘young’ wife on his last day - but that is a different issue) and so, it becomes a question of whether you are willing to allow suicide, and whether or not you are willing to allow suicide for reasons which don’t make sense or look trivial to you. That is a debate I won’t enter here.

[Missy J · Rating 4 out of 5]

Egungun (Yoruba masquerade)

One of the biggest reading highlights of 2016 for me was Nigerian literature. I've read Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart years ago. But this year, I came across The Fishermen by Chigozie Obioma and I'm currently doing a Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's book-marathon, which I'm enjoying immensely. I wasn't aware that Nigeria has a rich literary culture. So before the year ends, I wanted to read Wole Soyinka's play “Death and the King’s Horseman.”

[...]they acquire the facile tag of 'clash of cultures', a prejudicial label [...] I find it necessary to caution the would-be producer of this play against a sadly familiar reductionist tendency, and to direct his vision instead to the far more difficult and risky task of eliciting the play's threnodic essence. - Wole Soyinka's Author's Note

What does "threnodic" mean? The word is related to "threnody," meaning "an ode, song, or speech of lamentation, especially for the dead." Soyinka wants the reader to not focus too much on the culture clash that happens between the British colonists and the locals in this Yoruba village, but instead pay attention to the play's overall message of death.

The play is very short (my edition had only 77 pages), but it was not a quick and easy read. Out of the five acts, I found Act One quite difficult to understand followed by Act Three when the protagonist gets into a transcendental state of mind. However, Act Two, Four and Five were easier to comprehend with a heavy dose of tragedy and at times even comedy.

To sum up, the play focuses on Elesin, the horseman of a Yoruba king who has just passed away. According to tradition Elesin has to commit suicide to accompany and ensure safe passage for the king to the other side. British officials are adamant to prevent this suicide from taking place, because the British prince is currently visiting the area and they don't want chaos. What happens in the end is very tragic.

I can understand why most readers would speak about the clash of cultures. A lot of it happens in this play and it drives the story forward. Ultimately, one asks the question, who has power over death? Death is a very personal thing and different people look at it in different ways. To the Yoruba people Elesin's death is very meaningful and in their view important for the cosmological order of life. Even though the British can't see the logic in a horseman killing himself for a dead king. Yet, the British at that time were engaged in World War 2, death was everywhere and that was something that Elesin's son found hard to understand. Why make a fuss about the death of one horseman, but have no problems with sending hordes of young men to their early deaths for a senseless war? In the words of Iyaloja (the mother of markets) "To prevent one death you will actually make other deaths? Ah, great is the wisdom of the white race." Soyinka crafted a wonderfully tragic play here that combines themes of life and death and the modern and the traditional. I would love to watch the play live!

[James F · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is perhaps Soyinka's best play, and certainly his most influential; the work cited by the Nobel Committee in awarding the 1986 prize, it has become a classic in African Literature. It is based on an actual event, which occurred in 1946, although Soyinka has backdated it a couple years to the middle of World War II and made other changes in the interests of a more effective drama. The plot concerns a man, the King's Horseman, whose duty is to die to accompany the King of Oyo to the underworld. The play deals with themes of metaphysics, ethics, psychology, and colonialism; as the articles in this Norton edition show, it has been very controversial from the beginning; and whether or not one agrees with Soyinka's views (or however one understands them), the questions he asks are important ones for modern "post-colonial" societies such as Nigeria.

This Norton edition, besides the text of Soyinka's play, also includes the complete translation of the play's immediate source, the Yoruba language play Oba Waja (The King Is Dead) by Duro Ladipo (Soyinka makes much more of the idea; much like Shakespeare's relation to his sources), and a number of critical and background articles; these were the first things I've read about Soyinka and cast some light on his project and so on the plays and poems I've already read as well as this one. The critics all agree that the play is a masterpiece of language and style; some compare it to Shakespeare, others I think with more reason to the Greek tragedies (Soyinka was a serious student of Greek literature, and a graduate student of Shakespearian scholar Wilson Knight.) On the politics of the play, there is more disagreement; some Marxist scholars considered it reactionary while others defended it; Soyinka downplays the political aspects of the play to consider it as a play about death and metaphysics. I was interested to learn that Soyinka is a leading political activist who deliberately tries to exclude explicit politics from his more serious plays and fiction (due to his "ritual" concept of the nature of art), while also writing very political nonfiction and satiric plays.