Being categorised as black and female does not constrain my writing. Writing assures me that I am more the merely blackness and femaleness. Writing assures me I am.
This paradigm shifting essay collection weaves the personal and political in an illuminating exploration of internationally acclaimed novelist Tsitsi Dangarembga's complex relationship with race and gender. At once philosophical, intimate and urgent, Dangarmebga's landmark essays address the profound cultural and political questions that underpin her novels for the first time. From her experience of life with a foster family in Dover and the difficulty of finding a publisher as a young Zimbabwean novelist, to the ways in which colonialism continues to disrupt the lives and minds of those subjugated by empire, Dangarembga writes to recenter marginalised voices.
Black and Female offers a powerful vision toward re-membering - to use Toni Morrison's word - those whose identities and experiences continue to be fractured by the intersections of history, race and gender.
Spent part of her childhood in England. She began her education there, but concluded her A-levels in a missionary school back home, in the town of Mutare. She later studied medicine at Cambridge University, but became homesick and returned home as Zimbabwe's black-majority rule began in 1980.
She took up psychology at the University of Zimbabwe, of whose drama group she was a member. She also held down a two-year job as a copywriter at a marketing agency. This early writing experience gave her an avenue for expression: she wrote numerous plays, such as The Lost of the Soil, and then joined the theatre group Zambuko, and participated in the production of two plays, Katshaa and Mavambo.
In 1985, Dangarembga published a short story in Sweden called The Letter. In 1987, she also published the play She Does Not Weep in Harare. At the age of twenty-five, she had her first taste of success with her novel Nervous Conditions. The first in English ever written by a black Zimbabwean woman, it won the African section of the Commonwealth Writers Prize in 1989. Asked about her subsequent prose drought, she explained, "There have been two major reasons for my not having worked on prose since Nervous Conditions: firstly, the novel was published only after I had turned to film as a medium; secondly, Virginia Woolf's shrewd observation that a woman needs £500 and a room of her own in order to write is entirely valid. Incidentally, I am moving and hope that, for the first time since Nervous Conditions, I shall have a room of my own. I'll try to ignore the bit about £500."
Dangarembga continued her education later in Berlin at the Deutsche Film und Fernseh Akademie, where she studied film direction and produced several film productions, including a documentary for German television. She also made the film Everyone's Child, shown worldwide including at the Jameson Dublin International Film Festival.
🌳🌳Tsitsi Dangarembga writes an autobiographical work which includes many (not all) of her life experiences from childhood to the present; her struggles to become a writer and get published; the ongoing history, good and bad, of her homeland Zimbabwe 🇿🇼; her black feminist outlook, philosophy and beliefs.
It’s a very political book for she deals with patriarchy especially as it’s entrenched in government power structures, Zimbabwe being a prime example. She uses the word “empire” to describe not just the ongoing phenomenon of white supremacy, but its negative and pervasive ideology as well. Including how it adversely affects black female writers.
I learned a great deal. I was listening. Her book crackles with anger and outrage. It is a heavy read, yet a read bristling with life. It is the heart cry, mind cry and soul cry of a woman who I hope still has much to say to us (this title is a recent publication).
I knew I could, at least, connect with her as a writer, for a writer is a writer, and, as she says herself, she as a writer is not solely defined by the fact she is black (she appears to prefer the term melanated) or that she is female. “I am,” she declares. And I believe I can say that alongside her, if she will permit me - that while I am affected by it, I am not solely defined by the fact I’m white and a male. There is more to my story and spirit.
📕I would like her to write a book in the future completely about writing, about imagining and feeling and developing a storyline, about putting the words that matter to the screen. I would enjoy such a book from her very, very much ✨ ✨
“Genocide, slavery and colonisation are the DNA not just of the modern Western empire, but all of the empire.” “We cannot change the earth, a fact that leaves us with no choice but to change ourselves.”
Wowz despite making me feel like I had a jacket potato instead of a brain this was excellent to read. Every sentence slapped. Granted, I had to re-read most sentences until I understood them but when I did!!!! 🔥🔥FYYREE. When my girl said “white people do not know what makes them white because the world is created through white normative power” and “knowledge that is founded on notions of inequality will build unequal worlds for humans to occupy and unequal systems for us to function in” whhewwwwww CHILEE.
Tell me why I STILL owe a debt of circa £30k to the government for an education that only taught me about Immanuel KUNT, Hegel, David Hume and John Locke. WHY WHY WHYYYYY. give me it back I want a refund based on ONE SIDED & SUBJECTIVE KNOWLEDGE.
Review to come. Very long, meditated, review to come. edit**
If I could sum up this collections of essays in two words they would be "I hurt."And I don't mean that this book has been so poignant that I hurt, rather I am identifying a preexisting wound, articulating the collective symptoms this book has helped me diagnose as disease.
The implications of colonialism, the patriarchy, and whiteness have been discussed enough I mistakenly thought I could recognize the symptoms of them in my life. I have never shied away from discussion of any of the three, one might argue I actively seek them. And yet I never really knew the roots, especially as a Zimbabwean, that CPW (colonialism, the patriarchy and whiteness) branched from.
Tsitsi Dangarembga is a celebrated Zimbabwean, author, playwright, director, and feminist. One of the things that was stressed in the essays, specifically Black, Female and the Superwoman Black Feminist is that there are different types of feminism. The two main types referenced are 'black feminism' and 'western feminism'. Of course, black here has less to do with the conditions typically perceived with blackness, that to say it is blackness as location rather than personhood. And while us feminists in the west, are inundated with causes that focus on fighting against the capitalist patriarchal system in such a way that rewards are redistributed, black feminists, and quite frankly all feminists in developing countries are trying to "imagine a new world that has not been seen before."
In these places it is better to be an external feminist than an internal one, supporting policies that open the gates for women, though not agreeing outright/ supporting the feminist cause. Because in these places feminists are exiled, ostracized, refused work, and occasionally silenced. There is no system of fairness to fall back on, no courts who will hear that your manager groped you, that a man touched your chest on a walk through to the market. At least, the system is not half as supportive as it should be. So it is better to keep your head low, it is pragmatic even, which makes the work of these feminists all the more admirable. They are not fighting for redistribution: they are fighting for creation.
And these instances of groping, leering, and general uncomfortableness is something that is unfortunately a universal experience for women, hence the 97% statistic (one which states that 97% of women will face some form of sexual harassment in their lifetime.) Womanhood, especially as a POC is articulated so aptly by Dangarembga.
"At the same time I learnt comforting, tidy rules of writing, I began my menses. There had been hints before that something ominous would inevitably happen: don't sit like that; don't be so strident; don't talk back like that; go and cook- these were all admonishments directed at me and not my brother."
This description of burgeoning womanhood being something ominous, both alien and something to be afraid of just by the way younger girls are warned/ chastised about their behaviour is something so embedded and normalized I didn't even know it was something to articulate. In school systems girls have more stringent dress code rules than their boy counterparts do, and I grew up constantly warned about my behaviour; that sitting this way was unwomanly, doing xx was a girl's responsibility. And of course this being just another symptom of disease.
And what I loved even more about this collection of essays is that while it traced back the historical roots of colonialism in Zimbabwe, from Cecil Rhodes, to Ian Smith, and the ZANU PF etc. it also alludes to the social and cultural significance that women held prior to colonialism, and that before Zimbabwe was taken by the British, gendered roles were very much a thing. Of course, I wouldn't say having gendered roles is something unique to any culture, especially if you delve back deep enough, but I think its important to acknowledge that the roots of the patriarchy extend further back than colonialism, and that colonialism isn't synonymous with the 'start' of life in any African country.
Dangarembga is again, someone who wears many hats, and in fact non-fiction writing isn't the first medium she gravitates towards, and this is something I thought made her collection so accessible and hard-hitting. Any experience she described was presented in the most artful and digestible prose. But she was never superfluous. The hardest essay to read was likely the intro, but that was because I am a fiction lover at heart, and that first essay/intro was about strict the history of Zimbabwe. But since it was Zimbabwe it was still interesting to me because you know, I'm Zimbabwean. And that is likely why I read this book so ardently. I, like many first-get immigrants, can barely speak my native tongue, it eludes me, though paradoxically, I can understand it fine. So, I am always searching for the connection, being pulled toward a home that is mine in name though I don't actually know it, and this book touched on so many experiences that I live: black, female, Zimbabwean, that I had to read it. I felt almost demanded to.
Now my experience with my own blackness-- honestly my experience with my own personhood has been fairly summarized in a lot of the passages.
"The black-embodied person is always faced with the spectre of, and lives the experience daily in a myriad of ways of being not-white."
This fact is something I was confronted with when I started school in Canada, succinctly my first school memory is the kids in kindergarten not playing with me, and when I had finally gotten the nerve to ask them why, inviting them to my side of the room (because they always were on the complete opposite SIDE of the room than I was) they informed me that they wouldn't play with me because I was black. I was young, I was in kindergarten, so instead of outrage, instead of unfairness, I understood. Or I tried to, in the way that kids try to understand all the new laws of the world. Red mixes with Blue to make purple, The letter 'X' is two crossing lines, and white children don't play with black children. It was simple in my mind then, the other kids were white and they didn't play with black kids, which I was. I do remember a feeling a resignation which is too mature of a feeling for a maybe 5 year old to have, but I didn't put up a fight, I didn't ask any questions. I went to back to my side of the room and started colouring. And this experience wasn't singular, and as I grew the ways in which I was forced to confront my not-white-ness matured with me. I couldn't escape it, not in books were there were never black characters at the forefront, not in school where I was either the only black school in my class or in my grade (all the way moved schools for high school) my entire existence seemed rooted in otherhood.
"Feminist theory showed me how I was constructed as a female person whose content and possibility was predetermined, and how my refusal to occupy that space was a form of rebellion, albeit a powerless one that simply confirmed the lack that society inscribed into me. It was this time that I began to experience a real hunger for representation that affirmed who I was, or rather who I felt myself to be, rather than who I had been formed to be."
I discovered my rage against the patriarchy and my not-whiteness both young and congruently. And in the same manner as quoted I found myself craving, almost desperate, for representation. Yet the realization that BIPOC face when accept the idea of systematic discrimination is a double-edged dagger.
"On the one side, they seek to dissociate themselves from the torment caused by racist constructions of the world, in order not to necessitate engaging in wrenching questions about their own human worth. On the other, they endeavour to bolster a sense of their human value by adopting a position of non-racialism that denies the existence and effects of racist systems sometimes in historical but particularly in contemporary society."
There becomes two options for BIPOC, 1. either accept that there is a system in place predisposed against us, and one in which fundamentally and irrevocably we are found lacking, as said by Dangarembga "quasi-human". Or, 2. deny there is any system in place at all; preserving our personhood from the implications of the former, but not saving us from the effects of systematic discrimination which is indeed present *see the disproportionate incarceration of black embodied people, see police brutality, see the missing and unaccounted for indigenous women, see so many other examples, or just watch the news.
Both seem a little in incorrigible, and in any case by now you may be wondering what is the point of all these realizations. Colonialism is bad, the patriarchy is bad but then what. Are we supposed to cry? Go home and sob the tears of disenfranchisement? I asked myself these questions as I read, because I've found increasingly I am a "So what?" person. Colonialism is bad so what? Where do we go from there?
"Those who, like me, were wounded by the hubris of white-ness no longer say, "I hurt," and self medicate in self-destructive ways, or act out in ruinous, enraged and bitter pain on our communities, as that hubris demanded. Today we say, 'You hurt me,' words that point not to the abjection and death that follow relentless self-mutilation, but to the possibility of removing oneself from the one who hurts, and thereafter transforming oneself into someone the one who hurts can no longer dismember."
The former excerpt goes on to articulate itself even more profoundly but the take away is there. So What? You ask: So we do not get hurt in this way again, so we know how to protect ourselves from what has happened in the past and therefore protect all those who will come after. But I want to be so unflinchingly clear. Whiteness here is whiteness as institution not personhood.
This collection of essays is only meant to serve as a taste test of discussions of CPW, and what an enlightening taste it was.
Tsitsi Dangarembga boldly writes the unfortunate social, political and economic straits that the black African woman faced in the colonial era, linking it with the repressive structural ideologies that limit the black African woman from reaching their true extent of their personal power.
Tsitsi is unashamed of how she embraces black activism feminism and calls out the codification of it that is used to tick boxes for political correctness.
I would consider this a book that should not just be left on 'read' but used as part of the discursive products to deconstruct cognitive affective systems, that are are complicit to routinely systematic racism that the black African woman and in general the melanated people face.
I would love to read more on the stories of royal spirit mediums and warriors in the pre colonial Zimbabwe that Tsisti highlights in this book.
"Knowledge that is founded on notions of inequality will build unequal words for humans to occupy and unequal systems for us to function in." Tsitsi Dangarembga.
Tsitsi Dangarembga tackles empire and colonialism, with its seemingly endless tentacles in a direct and compassionate collection of essays. As a Zimbabwean woman, this book structured the historical, political, and social forces which create our Black and Female personhood.
‘I am an existential refugee. I have been in flight since I left the womb, and probably before, given the circumstances I was born into and the effect of these circumstances on my prenatal environment.’
Through each essay, Dangarembga pieces out how the macro events have structured our micro existences. A great read for those interested in feminism, history, decolonisation, and race.
A fantastic insight to not only Dangarembga's upbringing as she begun to see herself as other from her Foster family and children she went to school with, but also some really in dept information on the racial and sexist politics, particularly in South Africa.
A great collection of essays. I do enjoy when authors blend memoir and journal writing or essay pondering together. It often creates a stunning outcome.
a brilliant collection of essays on womanhood, feminism, racism, decolonisation, which is to say intersectionality. her metaphor of empire being a guillotine and then ending the essay with "Through words I raise the blade of the guillotine, reach for the dismembered parts, and rejoin them to the rest of my being, while the monster of empire practised through patriarchy snaps at my heels"!
Guter Einblick in die Geschichte Simbabwes und die Lebensrealitäten einer schwarzen Frau. Dangarembga ist Autorin, oft geht es dann auch um ihre Werke, dann wieder um politischen Umbruch, irgendwie hat mir ein bisschen Struktur gefehlt. Trotzdem interessant!
’ Een feministe die zwart en vrouw is in Zimbabwe, leeft in het epicentrum van structureel racisme en een brutaal gemilitariseerd patriarchaat dat alle belangrijke staatsinstellingen geheel of gedeeltelijk heeft overgenomen.’
Door de essays in Zwart en vrouw leer je Tsitsi Dangarembga, de schrijver van het prachtige Nervous Conditions (onlangs opnieuw verschenen in het Nederlands als Toestanden beter kennen. Ze schrijft over haar jeugd, de (koloniale) geschiedenis van Zimbabwe en wat het betekent om zwart en feminist te zijn.
I appreciate that it was bite size history that focused on how colonialism, racism and patrichary impacted and still impacts Tsitsi Dangarembga throughout her life, how she moves through the world and how the world perceives her. I was hoping it was more on how writing has been her safe space and a place where she makes sense of the world. Maybe it was and I instead focused more on the histories she touched on. I don't know. I just know that I appreciate Tsitsi Dangarembga so much and it makes me sad to be reminded of being Black and existing in a female body in a world that refuses to recognize as anything but human. Crazy.
“The first wound for all of us who are classified as ‘black’ is empire. This is a truth many of us – whether we are included in that category or not – prefer to avoid. Today, the wounding empire is that of the western nations: the empire that covered more than 80% of the globe at its zenith in the 19th century. It includes the British empire that colonised my country Zimbabwe in the 1890s. I was born into empire: my parents were products of empire, as were their parents before them, and their parents before that, my great-grandparents.”
Tsitsi makes you very cognisant of the fact that the double jeopardy of being black and female didn’t start yesterday but does so in a way that reminds you that you’re not alone in fighting against systems that continue to subjugate you. Loved it so much and I appreciate starting my year with it.
Short but concise insights into colonialism, race, Feminism, culture, class from a Zimbabwean author; which also introduced to some of its history and politics.
In true Tsitsi style, the opening line to this collection is gripping: “I am an existential refugee.” What a poignant reflection of the continuing and pervasive effects of the Empire on the Black body and more traumatically, the Black woman body.
It is beautifully and painfully reflective; effectively didactic as well as deeply personal. Tsitsi let’s us in on how her entire existence has been moulded by a medley of systemic oppressions and weaves this narrative through Zimbabwean history.
I was particularly drawn to the second essay: Black, Female and the Superwoman Black Feminist. Tsitsi makes important commentary about the role of black feminism as a framework upon which total freedom for all marginalised groups is built. Particularly in juxtaposition to white feminism. She paints a picture of pre- and post-colonial patriarchy in black families and structures.
I had the pleasure of hearing Tsitsi Dangarembga speak at this year's installment of Literatur im Nebel, where she was the guest of honor, and she is really inspiring. As is her work.
In Black and female she writes about her experience with being not only black and female but postcolonial as well and how she is proud of the fact and has celebrated success despite of it. Overall, the text is thought-provoking and brilliant.
This collection contains 3 essays. The first focuses on the author as a writer, the second on the author as a black woman and the final on the author as a decolonised person living in a previously colonised country. It is absolutely beautifully written and with the usual dangaremba precision. My absolute favourite was the introduction and the first essay that is essentially an autobiography through the lens of how she became an author. Frightfully good!!
Graywolf Press is reissuing this, and I got it as part of their galley club, and have been reading it on my commute. These essays end up being a discussion of colonialism as Ms. Dangarembga has experienced it through her writing career and as a child who was fostered briefly in England, and being a woman in all of these contexts. Excellent writing and some fucking fascinating stories. Definitely worth a read.
Ich bin ohne große Erwartungen an dieses Hörbuch herangegangen und wurde absolut begeistert. Tsitsi Dangarembga schafft es, die Geschichte Simbabwes, insbesondere die Unabhängigkeitsbestrebungen, prägnant und dennoch spannend zu skizzieren. Ihre Erzählweise verbindet historische Fakten mit persönlichen Erfahrungen, was das Buch umso eindrücklicher macht.
Ein besonders bewegendes Kapitel war für mich die Schilderung, dass afrikanische Kinder zeitweise als Pflegekinder an englische Familien „verliehen“ wurden. Mir war nicht bewusst, welche tiefgreifenden Auswirkungen dies auf die betroffenen Kinder hatte. Die persönlichen Erlebnisse der Autorin machen die abstrakten Themen von Kolonialismus und sozialer Ungerechtigkeit greifbar und verdeutlichen, wie sehr die Vergangenheit bis in die Gegenwart nachwirkt.
Dangarembga spricht nicht nur über die Unterdrückung durch koloniale Strukturen, sondern auch über die doppelte Diskriminierung Schwarzer Frauen – durch patriarchale Systeme und weiße Dominanz. Ihre Analyse ist unbequem, aber umso wichtiger. Das Hörbuch ist eine kraftvolle Einladung zur Reflexion und eröffnet neue Perspektiven auf Themen, die oft übersehen werden. Wer sich für postkoloniale Geschichte und soziale Gerechtigkeit interessiert, sollte es sich nicht entgehen lassen.
"Ik ben een existentiële vluchteling." Dit is de eerste zin van het boek "Zwart en Vrouw" van de Zimbabwaanse schrijver Tsitsi Dangarembga. Deze pakkende opening maakte me nieuwsgierig naar meer, maar ergens onderweg doofde die nieuwsgierigheid uit. Het boek gaat over verschillende vormen van onderdrukking van 'mensen met melanine' zoals Dangarembga mensen met een donkere huidskleur bij voorkeur noemt, die zich nog afspeelt naast de onderdrukking als vrouw en als zwarte Afrikaanse vrouw en de koloniale en patriarchale machtsstructuren die dit in stand houden. Dit is op zich genoeg om interessant te zijn, maar ondanks dat het boek dun is, vind ik de auteur toch soms te breedsprakig. Haar betoog wordt zo een beetje een bomen en bos verhaal, waarbij de auteur zichzelf bovendien verschillende keren herhaalt. Ik heb het een heel eind gelezen, maar uiteindelijk niet uitgelezen.
“Certain women are elevated to privilege in our patriarchal societies. These are the ones who conform to their subjugation. The mechanism works at all levels of society. Elite women are often used as examples for the rest of female society as to how women should acquiesce to gendered constructions of power, the argument being that a woman can still be successful from a position of subordination to men.”
Remarkable book, a must read for understanding decolonial perspectives.
收录了Tsitsi的三篇文章,围绕种族、性别、写作、去殖民化这四个主题来写,简短深刻,部分内容可以看作她“Nervous Conditions Series”的历史与思想背景补充。书里提到了非洲哲学概念ubuntu,它在父权殖民背景下对女性的压制路径,我觉得跟儒家有种微妙的相似。她从黑人女性的角度,批判了帝国的殖民主义和(津巴布韦)国家化共产主义倡导的阶级斗争——这些在《The Book of Not》里也有体现,书里其它相关内容(比如质疑国家女权主义)也挺能共鸣的…读到最后,她提到“从认知-情感维度重建我们的现实,重视想象的话语”,我因《The Book of Not》而破碎的心慢慢拼在一起。