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Im Herzen des Goldenen Dreiecks
In 13 Storys erzählt Petina Gappah von den Menschen in Simbabwe, von ihren Hoffnungen und Ängsten, ihren Träumen, ihrem Lachen und ihrem Weinen: die Witwe eines hohen Staatsbeamten, die an seinem Grab steht und darüber sinniert, wovon sie während seiner Amtszeit Zeugin geworden war; die Hochzeit eines jungen Paares, bei der alle Gäste wissen, dass der Bräutigam Aids hat und auch die Braut daran sterben wird; oder die wohlhabende Frau im Reichenviertel Harares, die nach Johannesburg fliegen muss, um angemessen shoppen gehen zu können.
257 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2009
45 people are currently reading
1592 people want to read
About the author
Petina Gappah
21 books381 followersPetina Gappah is a Zimbabwean writer with law degrees from Cambridge, Graz University, and the University of Zimbabwe. Her short fiction and essays have been published in eight countries. She lives with her son Kush in Geneva, where she works as counsel in an international organisation that provides legal aid on international trade law to developing countries.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 175 reviews
May 31, 2016
4.5 stars
A collection of short stories by a Zimbabwean writer previously unknown to me; thirteen stories, all bar one set in Zimbabwe. They focus on recent history, post-independence. The characters struggle with the vicissitudes of daily life, bureaucracy, hyperinflation, the pomposity of those in authority, AIDS, misogyny, unfaithful partners (mostly men), corruption and yearning. Gappah is also interested in the motivations of those who wrong as well as those who are wronged.
The Easterly of the title is a shanty town that was cleared and destroyed by the government. Gappah manages to capture the initial sense of optimism following the end of colonial/white rule. The long shadow of AIDS is present; usually referred to by officialdom as “a long illness”. Although the men are human, they tend to treat women very badly and Gappah says a lot with humour, as in the story “At the Sound of the Last Post” where a wife is reflecting at her husband’s funeral; “Like the worthless dogs that are his countrymen, my husband believed that his penis was wasted if he was faithful to just one woman”.
The writing is sharp with a strong vein of humour with dissects the subject being examined (Gappah is a lawyer and it shows). “The Mupandawana Dancing Champion” is a delight with a very original ending. The play on words in the story (The Mupandawana Dancing Competition has an acronym which is the same as the main opposition; the Movement for Democratic Change) illustrates the sheer silliness of those in power when the local MP is called to account by the governor for promoting a dance competition which also promotes the opposition (by means of acronym);
“What business does a ruling party MP have in promoting the opposition, the puppets, those led by tea boys, the detractors who do not understand that the land is the economy and the economy is the land and that the country will never be a colony again, those who seek to reverse the consolidation of the gains of our struggle.”
However stories like An Elegy for Easterly have a much sharper effect and here Gappah tackles the story of a squatter community, the daily trials and struggle to survive. It also broaches mental illness with the character of Martha Mupengo. Equally Gappah can also make the reader feel sorry for a rather pompous diplomat who is new to e-mail and loses money to a lottery scam.
The theme of lament runs through the stories, but it is also a paean to the people of Zimbabwe.
A collection of short stories by a Zimbabwean writer previously unknown to me; thirteen stories, all bar one set in Zimbabwe. They focus on recent history, post-independence. The characters struggle with the vicissitudes of daily life, bureaucracy, hyperinflation, the pomposity of those in authority, AIDS, misogyny, unfaithful partners (mostly men), corruption and yearning. Gappah is also interested in the motivations of those who wrong as well as those who are wronged.
The Easterly of the title is a shanty town that was cleared and destroyed by the government. Gappah manages to capture the initial sense of optimism following the end of colonial/white rule. The long shadow of AIDS is present; usually referred to by officialdom as “a long illness”. Although the men are human, they tend to treat women very badly and Gappah says a lot with humour, as in the story “At the Sound of the Last Post” where a wife is reflecting at her husband’s funeral; “Like the worthless dogs that are his countrymen, my husband believed that his penis was wasted if he was faithful to just one woman”.
The writing is sharp with a strong vein of humour with dissects the subject being examined (Gappah is a lawyer and it shows). “The Mupandawana Dancing Champion” is a delight with a very original ending. The play on words in the story (The Mupandawana Dancing Competition has an acronym which is the same as the main opposition; the Movement for Democratic Change) illustrates the sheer silliness of those in power when the local MP is called to account by the governor for promoting a dance competition which also promotes the opposition (by means of acronym);
“What business does a ruling party MP have in promoting the opposition, the puppets, those led by tea boys, the detractors who do not understand that the land is the economy and the economy is the land and that the country will never be a colony again, those who seek to reverse the consolidation of the gains of our struggle.”
However stories like An Elegy for Easterly have a much sharper effect and here Gappah tackles the story of a squatter community, the daily trials and struggle to survive. It also broaches mental illness with the character of Martha Mupengo. Equally Gappah can also make the reader feel sorry for a rather pompous diplomat who is new to e-mail and loses money to a lottery scam.
The theme of lament runs through the stories, but it is also a paean to the people of Zimbabwe.
May 17, 2019
These short stories based mainly in Zimbabwe show a country experiencing a series of epidemics. AIDS. Corruption. Black marketing. Inflation. Marital affairs. Hyperinflation.
The stories cover both the poor and the rich. Not a lot of happy stories. But the writing is a treasure. Each short story is well composed, very different from each other and the various endings are clever. Well worth picking this one up to see how one unhappy country tries to survive the Mugabe era.
The stories cover both the poor and the rich. Not a lot of happy stories. But the writing is a treasure. Each short story is well composed, very different from each other and the various endings are clever. Well worth picking this one up to see how one unhappy country tries to survive the Mugabe era.
June 11, 2017
Patina Gappah is a real find! A fabulous collection of short stories, each flawless and nuanced. Both melancholy and humerous and ironic. Set in contemporary Zimbabwe.
August 23, 2018
Funny, sharp stories of contemporary Zimbabwe (2010) with all its horrors and corruption handled through personal stories. Paying trillions of dollars for tractors or millions for a night in a hotel is commonplace. People long for stability and opportunity but meanwhile cope as best they can with the situation while some, conmen, politicians, generals thrive. Gappah has their measure and in satirical stories of everyday life there she lets us in on the situation with humour and gusto. These stories live and breathe.
April 13, 2009
This debut short-story collection by Zimbabwean writer Petina Gappah is a wonderful read. The tone of each one is perfect: the language is consistently beautiful but also completely natural. You get to know the characters very quickly, through small details artfully described, and are left at just the right moment to move on to the next tale.
The title gives a clue to what's in store. "Elegy" is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as "A song of lamentation, esp. a funeral song or lament for the dead". This book feels like Petina Gappah's lament for the Zimbabwe she grew up in, a Zimbabwe that has been scarred by political corruption, economic chaos and the scourge of AIDS. I can't say whether she means to say that the Zimbabwe she knew is dead. Of course the country endures, the people endure, and that's what these stories are about. Perhaps the lament is not so much for the country itself as for the people who have suffered so much. In any case, there's a deep sadness underlying all these stories, and there's a death or a funeral in most of the stories.
Yet the strange thing is that there's also a lot of humour, and the humour often goes hand-in-hand with the sadness. There's the old carpenter who is cheated out of his pension and wins a dancing contest, the diplomat who is new to email and loses thousands of euros to the old lottery scam, and the bizarre goings-on at the Hotel California. In many of the stories, the humour is very real and genuinely funny, and yet it feels like a thin veneer which Gappah deliberately lets slip every now and then, exposing the horror underneath.
My favourite story, though, has no real humour. It's called 'Something Nice from London' and tells of a family waiting at the airport for the twice-weekly flight from London. The title refers to the hope that relatives in the UK will either return or send back money or gifts for their families. With the collapse of the economy, a few UK pounds is millions of Zimbabwe dollars, and can help a family to survive. But it gradually becomes clear that what this particular family is waiting for is the coffin of their son, Peter. And what follows is a tragic, drawn-out description of the anxious waiting for weeks and weeks, interspersed with explanations of what brought Peter and the family to this point, all the sacrifices and mistakes and disappointments. It's important that the body returns because the whole extended family is staying at their house awaiting the funeral, and they literally can't afford to feed them much longer.
It's probably not a representative story to pick - the others, as I said, had more humour mixed in with the tragedy, and I think it's that mixture that makes the book successful. But this particular story really got to me more than all the others. There's just a real power to that image of the family waiting at the airport, surrounded by all the other people waiting for 'Something nice from London' while they are waiting for the coffin of their son.
Which brings me back to the tone. When describing suffering, and especially when interspersing it with humour, there are a lot of pitfalls to avoid: melodrama, tastelessness, didacticism and exploitation to name but a few. Gappah skips effortlessly through the minefield, achieving just the right tone in every story. It's a tremendous achievement, and I look forward to reading more from her.
The title gives a clue to what's in store. "Elegy" is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as "A song of lamentation, esp. a funeral song or lament for the dead". This book feels like Petina Gappah's lament for the Zimbabwe she grew up in, a Zimbabwe that has been scarred by political corruption, economic chaos and the scourge of AIDS. I can't say whether she means to say that the Zimbabwe she knew is dead. Of course the country endures, the people endure, and that's what these stories are about. Perhaps the lament is not so much for the country itself as for the people who have suffered so much. In any case, there's a deep sadness underlying all these stories, and there's a death or a funeral in most of the stories.
Yet the strange thing is that there's also a lot of humour, and the humour often goes hand-in-hand with the sadness. There's the old carpenter who is cheated out of his pension and wins a dancing contest, the diplomat who is new to email and loses thousands of euros to the old lottery scam, and the bizarre goings-on at the Hotel California. In many of the stories, the humour is very real and genuinely funny, and yet it feels like a thin veneer which Gappah deliberately lets slip every now and then, exposing the horror underneath.
My favourite story, though, has no real humour. It's called 'Something Nice from London' and tells of a family waiting at the airport for the twice-weekly flight from London. The title refers to the hope that relatives in the UK will either return or send back money or gifts for their families. With the collapse of the economy, a few UK pounds is millions of Zimbabwe dollars, and can help a family to survive. But it gradually becomes clear that what this particular family is waiting for is the coffin of their son, Peter. And what follows is a tragic, drawn-out description of the anxious waiting for weeks and weeks, interspersed with explanations of what brought Peter and the family to this point, all the sacrifices and mistakes and disappointments. It's important that the body returns because the whole extended family is staying at their house awaiting the funeral, and they literally can't afford to feed them much longer.
It's probably not a representative story to pick - the others, as I said, had more humour mixed in with the tragedy, and I think it's that mixture that makes the book successful. But this particular story really got to me more than all the others. There's just a real power to that image of the family waiting at the airport, surrounded by all the other people waiting for 'Something nice from London' while they are waiting for the coffin of their son.
Which brings me back to the tone. When describing suffering, and especially when interspersing it with humour, there are a lot of pitfalls to avoid: melodrama, tastelessness, didacticism and exploitation to name but a few. Gappah skips effortlessly through the minefield, achieving just the right tone in every story. It's a tremendous achievement, and I look forward to reading more from her.
May 29, 2017
Unvarnished modern Zimbabwe with all its trials, tragedies, daily struggles against a corrupt and broken system. Despite these obstacles the stories are vivid and flavourful. A few are downright funny – for example The Mupandawana Dancing Champion. The stories are so authentic you can smell the woodsmoke. If you want to discover what modern, post-independence Zimbabwe is really like, then the collection of short stories is a Must-Read.
Bio: Petinah Gappah is a Zimbabwean writer with law degrees from Cambridge, Graz University and the University of Zimbabwe. Her short fiction and essays have been published in eight countries. Her first novel is The Book of Memory.
December 23, 2009
I liked these stories separately and together. Almost all are set in the Zimbabwe of the dictator Robert Mugabe, sometimes with a minor backstory from the time of the guerrilla war. In the one story set outside Zimbabwe, a Zimbabwean man whose life and understanding are constrained by the various kinds of poverty he brings with him from Zimbabwe tries to cope in Europe but is betrayed by his own limitations and by other Africans. Readers will see the latter kind of understated, almost hidden, betrayal again, part of Gappah’s talent and her confidence in the reader’s empathy and sense of irony.
One of the pleasures of reading fiction is your encounter with different customs and attitudes–even though they are based on feelings that are not so different from those we know at home. As you’d expect, that is one of the pleasures for an American reading these stories. But though Gappah is a Zimbabwean she is a citizen of a much larger world. She is in touch with the grit, but she's a sophisticated citizen of the world who works in Geneva and holds a law degree from Cambridge. So she when she writes about Zimbabwe, she has the perspective of binocular vision.
On the other hand, the universals of human feeling and problems are the core of these stories. Beyond that, though, it is striking to me how very many of the details, including the flaws and outrages of dictatorship, are very much like our own. In "The Mupandawana Dancing Champion," a character tells a joke about Zimbabwe supporters of the ruling elite who appears at the Pearly Gates asking admission to Heaven. St. Peter is taken aback and runs to see God about whether to admit them. God say that even the those of the elite are His children, whereupon St. Peter goes back to the gates, then returns to God–"They've gone!" he tells God. "How can all those people disappear?" God asks. "No," says Peter, "the Pearly Gates are gone!"
If that doesn't sound to you like a story that could be told about Western politicians, you haven't been reading the newspapers. In the same story, the main character, about to retire, learns that his employer has used his pension money elsewhere and is now going out of business, leaving the employee two pair of ill-fitting shoes instead of a pension. As happens in America, too, because Congress in inviting employers to set up pension plans provided zero security for the money. Maybe you've heard of Enron, too, selling stock in its fraudulent and crumbling empire to–guess what, its own employees' pension funds?
Almost all of the stories explicitly or implicitly consider the effects of power (of the state, of large social institutions, of employers) on individuals, even if the dictatorship's abuse is secondary in many stories. The first three stories especially pursue the themes of power vs. its victims. But as formally simple as most of these stories are, they are not simple good guys against bad guys. The powerless victim may after all find a way to strike back. Or may turn against other powerless people. I'd like to say more about this, but resist and stick with abstractions to avoid spoliation.
As important as victimizers are in some of the stories, virtually all the stories are precisely focused on the relationships of particular human individuals--their growth, their disintegration, their ongoingness and sometimes renewal. Sometimes the power abuse is simply part of the background, like the kind of cigarettes characters smoke, and the real story is about the human beings, particularly in their relationships with one another. At other times, Gappah integrates the story of power with the story of individual relationships.
The relationship issues are often the universal and simple ones–the husband regularly "cheats" (Gappah's word) on his wife, a man makes his way in the straitened economy of inflation by dealing in the black market; a young woman tries to get free of a "mental" ward– and all its associations; parents exaggerate their children's accomplishments abroad and use the supposed accomplishment as offensive weapons; young people build a destructive fantasy life or they go abroad and find themselves too innocent to cope well with life in Dallas or Geneva.
Some stories are told in the first person, others in the third. There is even one told in the second person, a rarity, but it works. The first person narrator is sometimes a male, though more often a female. She writes in the present tense and in the past. In other words, on these elements, the stories are varied.
Varied but in a way quite simple in style. No big puzzles here for the reader. "What does that pear tree symbolize?" is not the kind of question you have to figure out. But simplicity is not shallowness here. And I, at least, found myself thinking back about stories, not to figure out puzzles set by the author but to get a better feeling for the depth. I'll probably re-read some of them, something I almost never do without an interval of 30 years.
Dialog may be Gappah's best suit, but her narration, even when it becomes just "telling," holds you. Sometimes the telling is a bit too summary and in one instance the piece is not, in my view, a short story at all, but rather effective social commentary without a story. The main character in the "Cracked Pink Lips of Rosie's Bridegroom," is a collective–the guests at a wedding who believe they observe symptoms of HIV in the groom. The individuals getting married here are not explored; they are more like Muller's ghostly characters in Green Plums. Even as a piece of social commentary, I felt this piece lost something because the author's outrage at HIV/AIDs and at its wanton devastations of women by men who marry them seems to be redirected in the end–at the character of the wedding guests who are commenting on it. If you are going to attack everyone at once, you may need a novel, not a short story.
To the extent that these stories implicate the theme of the state vs. the individual, or develop the day to day life in a dictatorship, Elegy suggests many comparisons or contrasts. I recently read Herta Muller's Land of the Green Plums, another book that deals with an economically ruinous dictatorship (Ceausescu in Romania). But the whole feel of Muller's book is surreal. In Gappah, the title story, "Elegy for Easterly," is a powerful tale of life in the Zimbabwe, seen from the life of a few individuals. Muller's characters had almost been turned into ghosts, by the regime or perhaps through their own flaws, but in either case they are visible to us mostly in outline. Gappah's are vivid even in their quotidian lives. Sometimes I wanted more of the characters. Maybe Gappah know how to quit when she's ahead, or maybe that's my love of the longer forms of fiction.
Another dimension: it might be instructive to see these stories in the context of modern African literature, particularly literature written in English. This is beyond my knowledge. However, Gappah has been quoted on the web and maybe elsewhere as saying she doesn't think of herself as an African writer and this has prompted some discussion among writers who are, in some sense, "African." An interesting blog by Chielo Zona Eze, a Nigerian writer teaching in Chicago, gave me an introduction to this topic. He sees two schools of thought among writers with roots in Africa. One, growing out of Achebe (who attacked Conrad's Heart of Darkness as essentially racist) "sees its role as primarily redefining the African," challenging the West's "single story." The other, based on Soyinka, cares "little about the burden of meeting the gaze of the white man." I'd guess Gappah goes this group if classifying her is deemed important. Eze sees her as "confronting life rather than in defining herself." http://africanliteraturenews.blogspot... (visited December 17, 2009).
However you might classify her on the "African" spectrum, it would be unfair to suggest that Zimbabweans are, to her, "the other." They are part of her, and if you read the stories, I don't see how you could think otherwise. She does not turn her back on Zimbabwe or its cultures. She doesn't see Mugabe as a representative of some permanent flaw in Zimbabwean culture and she cannot be accused of showing Zimbabwe as somehow inferior, though its suffering is great. In other words, Gappah is not the outsider like Conrad writing Heart of Darkness. You really can’t avoid thinking that she has a sense of individual human beings that do not merely stand for something else but are themselves. That's what makes her a fiction writer and not a polemicist or philosopher.
One of the pleasures of reading fiction is your encounter with different customs and attitudes–even though they are based on feelings that are not so different from those we know at home. As you’d expect, that is one of the pleasures for an American reading these stories. But though Gappah is a Zimbabwean she is a citizen of a much larger world. She is in touch with the grit, but she's a sophisticated citizen of the world who works in Geneva and holds a law degree from Cambridge. So she when she writes about Zimbabwe, she has the perspective of binocular vision.
On the other hand, the universals of human feeling and problems are the core of these stories. Beyond that, though, it is striking to me how very many of the details, including the flaws and outrages of dictatorship, are very much like our own. In "The Mupandawana Dancing Champion," a character tells a joke about Zimbabwe supporters of the ruling elite who appears at the Pearly Gates asking admission to Heaven. St. Peter is taken aback and runs to see God about whether to admit them. God say that even the those of the elite are His children, whereupon St. Peter goes back to the gates, then returns to God–"They've gone!" he tells God. "How can all those people disappear?" God asks. "No," says Peter, "the Pearly Gates are gone!"
If that doesn't sound to you like a story that could be told about Western politicians, you haven't been reading the newspapers. In the same story, the main character, about to retire, learns that his employer has used his pension money elsewhere and is now going out of business, leaving the employee two pair of ill-fitting shoes instead of a pension. As happens in America, too, because Congress in inviting employers to set up pension plans provided zero security for the money. Maybe you've heard of Enron, too, selling stock in its fraudulent and crumbling empire to–guess what, its own employees' pension funds?
Almost all of the stories explicitly or implicitly consider the effects of power (of the state, of large social institutions, of employers) on individuals, even if the dictatorship's abuse is secondary in many stories. The first three stories especially pursue the themes of power vs. its victims. But as formally simple as most of these stories are, they are not simple good guys against bad guys. The powerless victim may after all find a way to strike back. Or may turn against other powerless people. I'd like to say more about this, but resist and stick with abstractions to avoid spoliation.
As important as victimizers are in some of the stories, virtually all the stories are precisely focused on the relationships of particular human individuals--their growth, their disintegration, their ongoingness and sometimes renewal. Sometimes the power abuse is simply part of the background, like the kind of cigarettes characters smoke, and the real story is about the human beings, particularly in their relationships with one another. At other times, Gappah integrates the story of power with the story of individual relationships.
The relationship issues are often the universal and simple ones–the husband regularly "cheats" (Gappah's word) on his wife, a man makes his way in the straitened economy of inflation by dealing in the black market; a young woman tries to get free of a "mental" ward– and all its associations; parents exaggerate their children's accomplishments abroad and use the supposed accomplishment as offensive weapons; young people build a destructive fantasy life or they go abroad and find themselves too innocent to cope well with life in Dallas or Geneva.
Some stories are told in the first person, others in the third. There is even one told in the second person, a rarity, but it works. The first person narrator is sometimes a male, though more often a female. She writes in the present tense and in the past. In other words, on these elements, the stories are varied.
Varied but in a way quite simple in style. No big puzzles here for the reader. "What does that pear tree symbolize?" is not the kind of question you have to figure out. But simplicity is not shallowness here. And I, at least, found myself thinking back about stories, not to figure out puzzles set by the author but to get a better feeling for the depth. I'll probably re-read some of them, something I almost never do without an interval of 30 years.
Dialog may be Gappah's best suit, but her narration, even when it becomes just "telling," holds you. Sometimes the telling is a bit too summary and in one instance the piece is not, in my view, a short story at all, but rather effective social commentary without a story. The main character in the "Cracked Pink Lips of Rosie's Bridegroom," is a collective–the guests at a wedding who believe they observe symptoms of HIV in the groom. The individuals getting married here are not explored; they are more like Muller's ghostly characters in Green Plums. Even as a piece of social commentary, I felt this piece lost something because the author's outrage at HIV/AIDs and at its wanton devastations of women by men who marry them seems to be redirected in the end–at the character of the wedding guests who are commenting on it. If you are going to attack everyone at once, you may need a novel, not a short story.
To the extent that these stories implicate the theme of the state vs. the individual, or develop the day to day life in a dictatorship, Elegy suggests many comparisons or contrasts. I recently read Herta Muller's Land of the Green Plums, another book that deals with an economically ruinous dictatorship (Ceausescu in Romania). But the whole feel of Muller's book is surreal. In Gappah, the title story, "Elegy for Easterly," is a powerful tale of life in the Zimbabwe, seen from the life of a few individuals. Muller's characters had almost been turned into ghosts, by the regime or perhaps through their own flaws, but in either case they are visible to us mostly in outline. Gappah's are vivid even in their quotidian lives. Sometimes I wanted more of the characters. Maybe Gappah know how to quit when she's ahead, or maybe that's my love of the longer forms of fiction.
Another dimension: it might be instructive to see these stories in the context of modern African literature, particularly literature written in English. This is beyond my knowledge. However, Gappah has been quoted on the web and maybe elsewhere as saying she doesn't think of herself as an African writer and this has prompted some discussion among writers who are, in some sense, "African." An interesting blog by Chielo Zona Eze, a Nigerian writer teaching in Chicago, gave me an introduction to this topic. He sees two schools of thought among writers with roots in Africa. One, growing out of Achebe (who attacked Conrad's Heart of Darkness as essentially racist) "sees its role as primarily redefining the African," challenging the West's "single story." The other, based on Soyinka, cares "little about the burden of meeting the gaze of the white man." I'd guess Gappah goes this group if classifying her is deemed important. Eze sees her as "confronting life rather than in defining herself." http://africanliteraturenews.blogspot... (visited December 17, 2009).
However you might classify her on the "African" spectrum, it would be unfair to suggest that Zimbabweans are, to her, "the other." They are part of her, and if you read the stories, I don't see how you could think otherwise. She does not turn her back on Zimbabwe or its cultures. She doesn't see Mugabe as a representative of some permanent flaw in Zimbabwean culture and she cannot be accused of showing Zimbabwe as somehow inferior, though its suffering is great. In other words, Gappah is not the outsider like Conrad writing Heart of Darkness. You really can’t avoid thinking that she has a sense of individual human beings that do not merely stand for something else but are themselves. That's what makes her a fiction writer and not a polemicist or philosopher.
April 22, 2025
Great short story collection. Mostly set in Zimbabwe showcasing different viewpoints and experiences during Robert Mugabes reign and the countries new independence. Some tough topics but still with humor.
December 23, 2020
3.5 stars
This is a good collection of short stories that I expect to fade from my mind fast. Thirteen stories provide many perspectives on life in post-independence Zimbabwe, from the top to the bottom of the social spectrum. Many of the stories include biting political and social commentary, but the personal lives and tragedies of the characters are well-drawn and there’s enough humor, individuality and human connection that the collection never feels like an op-ed piece.
I was particularly impressed that, with several stories written in the first person, the voices are subtly different; I could guess correctly whether the narrator was male or female, for instance, before being told. The stories themselves are cleanly written and engaging, without excess words. The collection doesn’t feel geared specifically toward foreigners, particularly as there are occasional untranslated phrases, but it is accessible without much knowledge of the country.
A quick run-down of the contents:
“At the Sound of the Last Post”: A politician’s widow keeps quiet at a state funeral based on lies; her commentary on the regime’s hypocrisy is acid, but that doesn’t stop her from grabbing at a slice of power for herself.
“An Elegy for Easterly”: The inhabitants of a precarious slum do their best to make ends meet, but a cognitively impaired woman receives only exploitation from her neighbors.
“The Annex Shuffle”: A law student is sent to a mental hospital after she talks about suicide.
“Something Nice From London”: A family struggles to bring the corpse of their deadbeat brother home for burial, while unwanted relatives eat them out of house and home.
“In the Heart of the Golden Triangle”: Another regime wife story, which doesn’t add much new and worse, is told in the second person; fortunately it’s short.
“The Mupandawana Dancing Champion”: An old man loses his job but gains local recognition for his dancing.
“Our Man in Geneva Wins a Million Euros”: A clueless diplomat falls for an email scam; this is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.
“The Maid from Lalapanzi”: A young girl discovers the secrets of her family’s maid, a village girl who was involved with guerillas during the revolution.
“Aunt Juliana’s Indian”: The relationship between an Indian shopkeeper and his harassed local employee shifts with Zimbabwe’s independence.
“The Cracked, Pink Lips of Rosie’s Bridegroom”: Another very short story: wedding guests judge a woman for marrying a man who clearly has AIDS.
“My Cousin-Sister Rambanai”: A young woman and her husband shell out to help her cousin, an elusive dreamer determined to live abroad.
“The Negotiated Settlement”: The story of an unhappily married couple, tracing their difficulties from both perspectives.
“Midnight at the Hotel California”: A hustler wins friends with a salacious story, while dealing with the reality of corruption.
Overall, I enjoyed these stories and appreciated their diversity. While this collection didn’t seem to me especially striking or memorable, it is solid and worth a read.
This is a good collection of short stories that I expect to fade from my mind fast. Thirteen stories provide many perspectives on life in post-independence Zimbabwe, from the top to the bottom of the social spectrum. Many of the stories include biting political and social commentary, but the personal lives and tragedies of the characters are well-drawn and there’s enough humor, individuality and human connection that the collection never feels like an op-ed piece.
I was particularly impressed that, with several stories written in the first person, the voices are subtly different; I could guess correctly whether the narrator was male or female, for instance, before being told. The stories themselves are cleanly written and engaging, without excess words. The collection doesn’t feel geared specifically toward foreigners, particularly as there are occasional untranslated phrases, but it is accessible without much knowledge of the country.
A quick run-down of the contents:
“At the Sound of the Last Post”: A politician’s widow keeps quiet at a state funeral based on lies; her commentary on the regime’s hypocrisy is acid, but that doesn’t stop her from grabbing at a slice of power for herself.
“An Elegy for Easterly”: The inhabitants of a precarious slum do their best to make ends meet, but a cognitively impaired woman receives only exploitation from her neighbors.
“The Annex Shuffle”: A law student is sent to a mental hospital after she talks about suicide.
“Something Nice From London”: A family struggles to bring the corpse of their deadbeat brother home for burial, while unwanted relatives eat them out of house and home.
“In the Heart of the Golden Triangle”: Another regime wife story, which doesn’t add much new and worse, is told in the second person; fortunately it’s short.
“The Mupandawana Dancing Champion”: An old man loses his job but gains local recognition for his dancing.
“Our Man in Geneva Wins a Million Euros”: A clueless diplomat falls for an email scam; this is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.
“The Maid from Lalapanzi”: A young girl discovers the secrets of her family’s maid, a village girl who was involved with guerillas during the revolution.
“Aunt Juliana’s Indian”: The relationship between an Indian shopkeeper and his harassed local employee shifts with Zimbabwe’s independence.
“The Cracked, Pink Lips of Rosie’s Bridegroom”: Another very short story: wedding guests judge a woman for marrying a man who clearly has AIDS.
“My Cousin-Sister Rambanai”: A young woman and her husband shell out to help her cousin, an elusive dreamer determined to live abroad.
“The Negotiated Settlement”: The story of an unhappily married couple, tracing their difficulties from both perspectives.
“Midnight at the Hotel California”: A hustler wins friends with a salacious story, while dealing with the reality of corruption.
Overall, I enjoyed these stories and appreciated their diversity. While this collection didn’t seem to me especially striking or memorable, it is solid and worth a read.
January 13, 2021
The partial convivial moments I recall from the 13 gloomy and disturbing short stories, were in the stories titled 'The cracked pink lips of Rosie's bridegroom'. The groom was a known carrier and spreader of HIV, whose sexual partners had recently passed away due to his reinfection of them. The wedding guests were concerned for the bride, but what the heck, they had come to celebrate. In the story The Mupandawana Dancing Champion’ amidst singing and dancing , death as a hooligan was lingering by.
The wealthy and poor are not spared. In relating the stories, Petina simultaneously paints a picture of a country with an ailing economy that is characterised by , water and power cuts , corruption, forced removals, strife and disease. Some of the characters like in ‘ The cousin sister Rambanai’ ,
‘Our man in Geneva wins a million euros’ and ‘Something nice from London’ leave the country to seek solace in the UK , America and Switzerland. Marriages in ‘ The negotiated settlement’ and ‘ In the heart of the olden triangle' are in ICU. The men insist on keeping ‘small houses’ at all costs. The theme of mental illness in the eponymous story ‘ An elegy for Easterly’ and in ‘ The Annex shuffle’ ,their intensity and graphic nature unsettled and caused me to pause , digest and reflect .
Petina, draws extensively from her personal experience of being a Zimbabwean who resides abroard . Her creative writing prowess is unquestionable. She brings to life characters and vivid moments that readers will resonate with. I enjoyed that she does not politic, nor point a finger . She does an excellent job in story telling
The wealthy and poor are not spared. In relating the stories, Petina simultaneously paints a picture of a country with an ailing economy that is characterised by , water and power cuts , corruption, forced removals, strife and disease. Some of the characters like in ‘ The cousin sister Rambanai’ ,
‘Our man in Geneva wins a million euros’ and ‘Something nice from London’ leave the country to seek solace in the UK , America and Switzerland. Marriages in ‘ The negotiated settlement’ and ‘ In the heart of the olden triangle' are in ICU. The men insist on keeping ‘small houses’ at all costs. The theme of mental illness in the eponymous story ‘ An elegy for Easterly’ and in ‘ The Annex shuffle’ ,their intensity and graphic nature unsettled and caused me to pause , digest and reflect .
Petina, draws extensively from her personal experience of being a Zimbabwean who resides abroard . Her creative writing prowess is unquestionable. She brings to life characters and vivid moments that readers will resonate with. I enjoyed that she does not politic, nor point a finger . She does an excellent job in story telling
October 26, 2016
This collection of short stories form a brilliant read. In An Elegy for Easterly the author manages to capture moments in the lives of Zimbabweans. Growing up in Zimbabwe the stories are familiar, I have my own cousin-sister Rambanai, I know my own M'dhara Vitalis, I bought my own school uniforms from maIndia, waited for something nice from London. Petina Gappah with this cross section Zimbabweans rich and poor alike, urban and rural, illustrates beautifully their afflictions and their successes. The stories invoke an array of emotions, tears of joy and of sorrow. A highly recommended read for all.
November 25, 2021
Read the single short story from Faber books.
Stories like these are like nails dug inside your skin. And the marks, man they always stay.
Stories like these are like nails dug inside your skin. And the marks, man they always stay.
January 12, 2023
Gappah is a new writer to me, but I'm going to have to read more from her in the future, because this was fantastic. I read a lot of short stories, and every so often I read a collection of them that reminds me so much of why I like the form. They're small, polished pieces of narrative, that often end in interesting ways, and they are sometimes, as they are here, a concentrated study of character. Whether it's the woman who takes her neighbour's baby, the man who loses his job and starts building coffins, or the problems of navigating bureaucracy and trying to salvage some sort of financial security in a country where inflation is running rampant, every protagonist here is utterly believable. They're all compelling, even if they're not always pleasant, and the social and political undercurrents running through the book as a whole are well-explored and finely observed.
I understand that the author has written at least one other book (according to the catalogue of my local library, anyway) and it's going on my to-read list, because this was thoroughly enjoyable.
I understand that the author has written at least one other book (according to the catalogue of my local library, anyway) and it's going on my to-read list, because this was thoroughly enjoyable.
April 12, 2017
Raikas ja häpeilemätön novellikokoelma Zimbabwesta, joka ei tunnu enää lainkaan niin vieraalta ja etäiseltä. Alkuun vaati hieman tarkoituksellista itsensä upottamista, jotta pääsi mukaan, mutta hieno tämä oli.
March 22, 2017
An amazing collection of stories. Worth the struggle with English. Beautiful and honest at the same time. And I must do some research on history of Zimbabwe one day.
January 16, 2017
Trinaest priča, koje međutim, iako ispričane u Zimbabveu, u svakom trenutku zvuče nestvarno univerzalno, sveprisutno siromaštvo, mafijaška vladajuća elita korumpirana do nebesa, oivičena besmislenim nacionalizmom kao štitom, beznađe, građanski ratovi, snovi o drugom i drugačijem svetu negde daleko, želja za odlaskom u isti, koja se nekada i ostvaruje, pa čitamo o životima ljudi iz Zimbabvea u Švajcarskoj recimo, ili njihovim susretima u londonskom metrou, dokle da nabrajam a da ne počne da zvuči isuviše poznato, ne ovo nije Zimbabve, toliko sam puta pomislio tokom čitanja, ovo je svuda, ovo smo živeli ili živimo, o kakve bolne sličnosti na sve strane.
https://bezimenaknjizevnazadruga.word...
https://bezimenaknjizevnazadruga.word...
March 10, 2016
I loved, loved, loved "The Book of Memory" and thought I would love this as well because she is a truly great writer. While I can definitely say her characters are brought to life through her words, the stories just fell flat with me and I was generally left unmoved. It's an easy read though and it does give some insight into life in Zimbabwe.
May 15, 2016
A brilliant collection of short stories. Lovely tone, beautiful insight I thoroughly enjoyed.
January 23, 2022
The first couple stories in this collection did not connect for me, and I almost decided to drop the book after that, but I'm glad I didn't. The first story, "At the Sound of the Last Post," is told from the first-person perspective of a wife of one of Zimbabwe's recently deceased ruling elite. I found the narrator's admission of her own complicity unrealistic, and the story lacked an emotional core or interesting conflict that could pull me in and overcome that skepticism. The second story, "An Elegy for Easterly," was more interesting but jumped from character to character in a way that I found made it difficult to get attached to any of them. In both cases, it could feel that the plot that existed, the decisions characters had to make, had little bearing on the outcomes of their lives.
Aside from this gripe about the first story , I came to appreciate this quality not as poor construction of the stories but as Gappah's clever portrayal of life in Mugabe's Zimbabwe. The decisions that characters must make, the struggles they must fight, the indignities they must suffer can only affect their lives marginally. It is the background, the ruling party's decisions announced over the radio, the political currents flowing through the characters' lives that determine their material conditions, color their relationships with neighbors, and push them into precarity. These goings-on are well-outside their control, and thus the plots of these stories, populated by and large by everyday people, can seem low-tension.
In "Aunt Juliana's Indian," for example, the conflict is ostensibly one between the titular aunt and her employer. Nonetheless, it is the political currents that have the most pull on the conditions in which the characters live. It is political rhetoric outside their relationship that inspires the main action of the story, and it seems that dissipation of this political tension is what drives Aunt Juliana and her employer to reconciliation.
A sense of exhaustion is palpable in nearly all the stories present. Gappah is deft in showing how acceptance of this lack of control and its accompanying exhaustion can be beneficial for her characters. In some cases it improves for their social standing and material conditions (as in "The Annex Shuffle"), and in some situations and it can comfort people in times of need (as in the end of "The Negotiated Settlement"). Gappah's characters must endure hardships, but they cannot afford to dwell to them, and they are mostly powerless to avoid them.
The stories in An Elegy for Easterly vary significantly in the emotional weight that they carry. Unfortunately, those that lack it felt to me like missed opportunities rather than breaks in tension. Still, I enjoyed the stories a lot, and came away with a deeper understanding of life in a country whose portrayal rarely delves beyond hyperinflation poster child.
Aside from this gripe about the first story , I came to appreciate this quality not as poor construction of the stories but as Gappah's clever portrayal of life in Mugabe's Zimbabwe. The decisions that characters must make, the struggles they must fight, the indignities they must suffer can only affect their lives marginally. It is the background, the ruling party's decisions announced over the radio, the political currents flowing through the characters' lives that determine their material conditions, color their relationships with neighbors, and push them into precarity. These goings-on are well-outside their control, and thus the plots of these stories, populated by and large by everyday people, can seem low-tension.
In "Aunt Juliana's Indian," for example, the conflict is ostensibly one between the titular aunt and her employer. Nonetheless, it is the political currents that have the most pull on the conditions in which the characters live. It is political rhetoric outside their relationship that inspires the main action of the story, and it seems that dissipation of this political tension is what drives Aunt Juliana and her employer to reconciliation.
A sense of exhaustion is palpable in nearly all the stories present. Gappah is deft in showing how acceptance of this lack of control and its accompanying exhaustion can be beneficial for her characters. In some cases it improves for their social standing and material conditions (as in "The Annex Shuffle"), and in some situations and it can comfort people in times of need (as in the end of "The Negotiated Settlement"). Gappah's characters must endure hardships, but they cannot afford to dwell to them, and they are mostly powerless to avoid them.
The stories in An Elegy for Easterly vary significantly in the emotional weight that they carry. Unfortunately, those that lack it felt to me like missed opportunities rather than breaks in tension. Still, I enjoyed the stories a lot, and came away with a deeper understanding of life in a country whose portrayal rarely delves beyond hyperinflation poster child.
January 4, 2021
I have been dying to read this book for a while and for a good reason. If you want a brief history of Zimbabwe’s history pick yourself a copy of “An elegy of Easterly”. She tackles themes such as love, pain, corruption, betrayal and survival. I read some of the stories separately but together they work well like a perfect orchestra in harmony. Gappah is a genius when it comes to comes to her narratives, they span continents, time and very different faces. She does not leave any place unturned. The power of her collection is that it has truth at the heart of each story; I have multiple relatives who have moved out of the country in pursuit of dreams such as Rambanai in “My Cousin-Sister”, I have seen one too many women infected by the deadly virus such as Rosie is about to be in “The Cracked, Pink Lips of Rosie’s Bridegroom”, I’ve had maids such as “The Maid from Lalapanzi”, I was also once an eager child who expected “Something Nice from London”, I’ve walked on the streets she describes, I’ve eaten the food they have eaten and perhaps most importantly I have shared the characters’ dreams, hopes, pain, despair and experiences. Gappah is so witty in her stories that at times you forget how tragic they are. One thing that another reviewer said was that there was a large amount of cheating on the side on them in the book, this indeed becomes excessive that it is almost boring.
One particular problem I had with this book (this is strictly based on my own feelings) is that the general feeling that sweeps across the book is gloomy. The characters never receive redemption and their lives are so tragic to behold; perhaps this is because these stories are honest depictions of life in a land that has lost its sanity. Gappah is a master of satire and humour, there is honestly no end to the laughs or the pain of her characters. This is a book that I will cherish forever.
One particular problem I had with this book (this is strictly based on my own feelings) is that the general feeling that sweeps across the book is gloomy. The characters never receive redemption and their lives are so tragic to behold; perhaps this is because these stories are honest depictions of life in a land that has lost its sanity. Gappah is a master of satire and humour, there is honestly no end to the laughs or the pain of her characters. This is a book that I will cherish forever.
July 7, 2020
In "Im Herzen des goldenen Dreiecks" erzählt Petina Gappah in 13 Geschichten von den Menschen und vom Leben in Simbabwe. Sie schreibt über die Ängste, die die Menschen plagen, aber auch von ihren Hoffnungen und Träumen.
Zunächst möchte ich sagen, dass ich sehr, sehr beeindruckt und begeistert von Petina Gappahs Art, zu Schreiben und zu Erzählen, bin. Ihre Sprache ist so bildhaft und besonders, dass ich mir alles wirklich gut vorstellen konnte. Das war bemerkenswert, da ich mich zuvor noch nie mit Simbabwe beschäftigt habe.
Die Autorin wurde 1971 im damaligen Rhodesien geboren, was heute nach der Unabhängigkeitserklärung 1980 in Simbabwe umbenannt wurde. In ihren Stories geht es um diese Unabhängigkeit, aber auch darum, in welche Lage Simbabwe dadurch gebracht wurde und wie die Inflation und die großen Unterschiede zwischen Arm und Reich die Bevölkerung prägen.
"Im Herzen des goldenen Dreiecks" ist Petina Gappahs literarisches Debüt und in meinen Augen wirklich gut gelungen. Jede Geschichte war für sich einzigartig, spannend und außergewöhnlich. Sei es nun die Geschichte einer Witwe, die bei der Beerdigung ihres Mannes ihr Leben Revue passieren lässt, die Geschichte einer jungen Frau, die unbedingt raus aus Simbabwe möchte, um sich entfalten zu können oder die Geschichte eines älteren Herrn, der beim Tanzen alle Rekorde knackt - mich hat jede begeistert. Das einzige Manko war für mich, dass ich aus manchen Stories eher einen Roman gemacht hätte. Sie sind so interessant, dass ich einfach mehr erfahren wollte.
Ich freue mich jedenfalls sehr, wieder mal eine wirklich vielversprechende Autorin entdeckt zu haben und werde ihre beiden anderen Werke, die im Arche-Verlag erschienen sind, auch noch lesen. Ich vergebe 4,5 / 5 ⭐ für diese besondere Kurzgeschichtensammmlung.
Zunächst möchte ich sagen, dass ich sehr, sehr beeindruckt und begeistert von Petina Gappahs Art, zu Schreiben und zu Erzählen, bin. Ihre Sprache ist so bildhaft und besonders, dass ich mir alles wirklich gut vorstellen konnte. Das war bemerkenswert, da ich mich zuvor noch nie mit Simbabwe beschäftigt habe.
Die Autorin wurde 1971 im damaligen Rhodesien geboren, was heute nach der Unabhängigkeitserklärung 1980 in Simbabwe umbenannt wurde. In ihren Stories geht es um diese Unabhängigkeit, aber auch darum, in welche Lage Simbabwe dadurch gebracht wurde und wie die Inflation und die großen Unterschiede zwischen Arm und Reich die Bevölkerung prägen.
"Im Herzen des goldenen Dreiecks" ist Petina Gappahs literarisches Debüt und in meinen Augen wirklich gut gelungen. Jede Geschichte war für sich einzigartig, spannend und außergewöhnlich. Sei es nun die Geschichte einer Witwe, die bei der Beerdigung ihres Mannes ihr Leben Revue passieren lässt, die Geschichte einer jungen Frau, die unbedingt raus aus Simbabwe möchte, um sich entfalten zu können oder die Geschichte eines älteren Herrn, der beim Tanzen alle Rekorde knackt - mich hat jede begeistert. Das einzige Manko war für mich, dass ich aus manchen Stories eher einen Roman gemacht hätte. Sie sind so interessant, dass ich einfach mehr erfahren wollte.
Ich freue mich jedenfalls sehr, wieder mal eine wirklich vielversprechende Autorin entdeckt zu haben und werde ihre beiden anderen Werke, die im Arche-Verlag erschienen sind, auch noch lesen. Ich vergebe 4,5 / 5 ⭐ für diese besondere Kurzgeschichtensammmlung.
June 17, 2022
I've been reading a number of short story collections these days, especially ones that center around different countries outside of my sphere of experience, and it's been a pleasure discovering "An Elegy for Easterly".
Gappah has a knack for capturing the stark everyday realities of life through the lens of various characters without it becoming too grim, and her commentary on issues faced by the majority of Zimbabwe's population is beautifully portrayed. There are lighthearted moments even within the more depressing details of life, and Gappah strikes a beautiful balance between both.
The stories highlight the situation faced by many in Zimbabwe as they struggle for normalcy in the midst of the country's post-independence growing pains (hyperinflation, the clash of culture vs. progress/modernity, the tightknit community and its joy and perils, corruption and a silent coup being only a few of the subjects discussed in the book) and they are all insightful in their own ways.
I'm really glad I stumbled upon this little underrated gem and I look forward to reading more of Gappah's works!
Gappah has a knack for capturing the stark everyday realities of life through the lens of various characters without it becoming too grim, and her commentary on issues faced by the majority of Zimbabwe's population is beautifully portrayed. There are lighthearted moments even within the more depressing details of life, and Gappah strikes a beautiful balance between both.
The stories highlight the situation faced by many in Zimbabwe as they struggle for normalcy in the midst of the country's post-independence growing pains (hyperinflation, the clash of culture vs. progress/modernity, the tightknit community and its joy and perils, corruption and a silent coup being only a few of the subjects discussed in the book) and they are all insightful in their own ways.
I'm really glad I stumbled upon this little underrated gem and I look forward to reading more of Gappah's works!
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December 30, 2021Zimbabwelaista "tiskirättirealismia", syntymän ja kuoleman katkeransuloisia hetkiä, avioliiton ja sukulaissuhteiden pitkiä vuosia. Aluksi kokoelma tuntui lohduttomalta, mutta vähitellen suupielet kääntyivät enemmän hymyyn, kun huumori ja ironia pääsivät kunnolla jylläämään. Tämän voisi tulkita toisinkin, mutta minä päätän tulkita ennen kaikkea hauskaksi kokoelmaksi, joka kertoo ihmiselämän mieleenjäävistä sattumuksista ja ihmisen parantumattomasta epätäydellisyydestä. Samalla tuli erittäin mielenkiintoinen sukellus Zimbabwen lähihistoriaan, joka minulle olikin täysin tuntematonta...
May 1, 2025
Seuraava lainaus onnettoman avioliiton syövereistä upposi: ”First you undo me this scar, then you unlearn me this language. After that, you can come back and we can talk about divorce.”
Gappahin novellit ovat täynnä ilkikurista huumoria kuten takakansi lupailee, mutta samalla niissä on raadollisia ihmiskohtaloita, jotka koskettavat. Löytyy myös helläkätistä tarkastelua inflaation ja AIDSin kurittamasta nuoresta valtiosta ja mainioita toheloita hahmoja.
Gappahin novellit ovat täynnä ilkikurista huumoria kuten takakansi lupailee, mutta samalla niissä on raadollisia ihmiskohtaloita, jotka koskettavat. Löytyy myös helläkätistä tarkastelua inflaation ja AIDSin kurittamasta nuoresta valtiosta ja mainioita toheloita hahmoja.
April 6, 2018
Zimbabwea monesta näkökulmasta: on eliittiä ja rahvasta, ulkomaille muuttajia ja häntä koipien välissä kotiin palaavia, harhaanjohdettuja ja viisaita. Mainio kokoelma, hauska ja traaginen ja viihdyttävä. Mukaan mahtuu monenlaista tunnelmaa, taikauskoa ja internet-aikaa, elämää hyperinflaation keskellä ja vallankumousten ympärillä. Jos Afrikkaan tutustuminen kiinnostaa, tämä on mainio valinta.
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December 9, 2021Bijtende, komische verhalen maar met genoeg hart voor de machtelozen. De verwerking van de Zimbabwaanse hyperinflatie vond ik echt heel treffend. Niet elk verhaal was raak, maar ik zou nu wel graag een roman van haar lezen.
February 15, 2023
Inte min stil
March 31, 2023
Vallan maukkaita novelleja Zimbabwelaisesta elämänmenosta.
June 2, 2025
These stories are getting all my stars 🤩
such a beautiful book
such a beautiful book
December 15, 2019
Aika mainioita novelleja. Suosittelen kaikille, joita kiinnostaa saada kurkistusaukkoja Zimbabwelaisten elämään. Ainakin lukijana uskoin kertomusten realistisuuteen.
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