Song for Night

by Chris Abani

"Not since Jerzy Kosinski’s The Painted Bird or Agota Kristof’s Notebook Trilogy has there been such a harrowing novel about what it’s like to be a young person in a war. That Chris Abani is able to find humanity, mercy, and even, yes, forgiveness, amid such devastation is something of a miracle.”—Rebecca Brown, author of The End of Youth

"The moment you enter these pages, you step into a beautiful and terrifying dream. You are in the hands of a master, a literary shaman. Abani casts his spell so completely—so devastatingly—you emerge cleansed, redeemed, and utterly haunted."—Brad Kessler, author of Birds in Fall

Part Inferno, part Paradise Lost, and part Sunjiata epic, Song for Night is the story of a West African boy soldier’s lyrical, terrifying, yet beautiful journey through the nightmare landscape of a brutal war in search of his lost platoon. The reader is led by the voiceless protagonist who, as part of a land mine-clearing platoon, had his vocal chords cut, a move to keep these children from screaming when blown up, and thereby distracting the other minesweepers. The book is written in a ghostly voice, with each chapter headed by a line of the unique sign language these children invented. This book is unlike anything else ever written about an African war.

Chris Abani is a Nigerian poet and novelist and the author of The Virgin of Flames, Becoming Abigail (a New York Times Editor’s Choice), and GraceLand (a selection of the Today Show Book Club and winner of the 2005 PEN/Hemingway Prize and the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award). His other prizes include a PEN Freedom to Write Award, a Prince Claus Award, and a Lannan Literary Fellowship. He lives and teaches in California.

Genres: Fiction, Africa, War, Nigeria, Read For School, Novels, Literary Fiction

144 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2007

About the author

Christopher Abani (or Chris Abani) is a Nigerian author.

He was a political prisoner in Nigeria at various times during 1985 and 1991. At times he was held in solitary confinement and he was held on death row for some time after being sentenced to death for treason.

He is a Professor at the University of California, Riverside and the recipient of the PEN USA Freedom-to-Write Award, the 2001 Prince Claus Awards, a Lannan Literary Fellowship, a California Book Award, a Hurston-Wright Legacy Award and the Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award. Selections of his poetry appear in the online journal Blackbird.

Reviews

[Mostafa Alipour]

جنگ داخلی نیجریه
ادبیات آفریقا برای ما تقریبا ناشناخته است. گفتم تقریبا چون این اندک آشنایی موجود مربوط به نواحی با اکثریت سفید پوست هست و اغلب ما کمتر با آثار نویسندگان سیاه پوست برخورد کردیم. در همین راستا من برای کنجکاوی و تنوع تصمیم گرفتم گاهی سراغ نویسنده های کمتر شناخته شده‌ و ادبیات کشورهای غیرمطرح برم. در همین فضا مدتی قبل کتاب برادر روحی: شب‌ها همه خون‌ها سياه است رو خوندم که به استفاده از سیاه پوست ها در جنگ جهانی اول مربوط بود.مشاهده ریویو

نغمه‌ی شبانه به جنگ داخلی نیجریه اختصاص پیدا کرده. این مدل از درگیری برای ما در خاورمیانه خیلی هم غریبه نیست. اما در نیجریه نوع متفاوتی از درگیری درجریان هست چون طیف گسترده‌ای از مردم درمقابل هم قرار گرفتند. مردمی که وطن مشترکی دارند ولی به لحاظ فرهنگ و دین کاملا متفاوتند. شاخص ترین تفاوت بین دو گروه اصلی درگیر دین هست. اسلام و مسیحیت! شاید در نقاط دیگری از جهان تقابل این ادیان عجیب بنظر بیاد چون ظاهرا مبدا مشترکی دارند و دلیلی برای ریختن خون هم ندارند. طبق باور و فرهنگ در نیجریه فرقی نداره که پیرو چه آئینی هستی. اگر از ما نیستی کافر و دشمن محسوب می‌شی. به همین سادگی بهانه برای سالها خونریزی بوجود اومد. مردم نیجریه نیمی مسلمان و نیمی هم مسیحی هستند اما تعداد مسلمان ها اندکی بیشتر هست. یعنی در واقع در نگاه هر شخص حداقل نیمی از مردم کشورش دشمن هستند. بله، حداقل چون زیرشاخه های متعددی هم وجود دارند که طبق معیار های متفاوتی مردم رو دشمن محسوب می‌کنند.
این رویکرد در زندگی که بخاطر تفاوت های جزئی در عقاید همدیگه رو نابود کنیم عمیقا ترسناک و تفکربرانگیز هست. اما این سبک زندگی متأثر از سالها استبداد و استعمار هست. حکومت هایی که منافع اونها در گرو جهل مردم بود و بر این موج جولان می‌دادند در این جوی خون سهیم‌اند.
آثاری مثل این کتاب در حکم کنار زننده‌ های پرده‌های حجاب هستند. شاید داستان گیرا و جذاب یا ارزش ادبی چشمگیری نداشته باشند ولی کلید ورود به اون فضای خفقان آور و ترسناک هست. هرچند که خوش‌خیالی واضحی هست اگر از یک رمان کوتاه انتظار داشت تمام تاریکی هارو روشن کنه. اما خب تقلیل نقش بسزای اونها هم درست نیست.
حداقل این کتاب کم حجم باعث شد برای یافتن توضیح مفصل برای بعضی از موارد جستجو کنم و اطلاعاتی رو بدست بیارم که قبلا از وجودشون بی اطلاع بودم.
به عنوان نمونه بخشی از روایت درگیری ها مربوط به گروه تروریستی بوکوحرام هست که خواهان بازگشت به گذشته و تعطیلی مدارس و دانشگاه هستند. بطور کلی با علم امروزی مخالف هستند و دانشی جز موارد مذهبی باید نابود بشه.

راوی نوجوان و بی‌نام این کتاب که از جوخه و همرزمانش عقب افتاده به تنهایی در جستجوی اونهاست. جوخه‌ای که وظیفه‌ی مهمی به عهده داره، ردیابی و خنثی سازی مین های در زمین کاشته شده. کودک و نوجوان‌ها برای این کار انتخاب شدند چون سبک‌تر هستند و بدن هایی با ابعاد کوچک‌تری دارند. در صورتی که این مورد اصلا منطقی بنظر نمیاد و احتمالا تفکرات پلیدی پشت این بهانه‌ی مسخره پنهان هستند. با میزان درک یک کودک هم این دلیل منطقی نیست چون خودشون در عمل بارها دیدند که با کوچکترین فشار مین فعال شده و گول خوردند. در یک تصمیم وحشیانه‌تر با عمل جراحی تارهای صوتی اونها هم خارج شده با این حرکت هرگونه ارتباط با شخصی خارج از این جمع کاملا ملغی هست یا در صورت انفجار خبری از فریاد نیست.
اعضای این جوخه برای ارتباط باهم زبان اشاره‌ای ابداع کردند و هر بخش از کتاب با تعریف یکی از این نمادها آغاز می‌شه.

سکوت: دست‌ات را جلو می‌اوری و مشت‌ات را باز می‌کنی.
مرگ: دو انگشت را روی گلویت می‌کشی.

راوی در مسیر یافتن دوستانش با موارد متعددی روبه‌رو می‌شه و این موارد یادآور خاطراتش در روزهای گذشته است. زندگی نامتعادل در خانواده در کنار پدر و مادری متفاوت. پدر مسلمان و پیش نماز مسجد که بخاطر ازدواج با زنی مسیحی در مسجد توسط تندروهای مسلمان به قتل می‌رسه. این تفاوت فاحش اون رو هم سردرگم کرده. سردرگمی بابت اینکه به کدوم جهت تعلق داره؟ از طرفی طبق آیات قرآن و انجیل این جنگ نباید رخ می‌داد و این مدت به درازا می‌کشید. پس حقیقت کجاست؟

کتاب از 36 فصل بسیار کوتاه تشکیل شده که تماما تک گویی های راوی هست. در تمام این فصل ها جملات فراوانی به چشم می‌خورند که بسیار دردناک و کوبنده هستند. توصیف اون فضا از دید یک نوجوان که جهانش به دیده ها و شنیده هایش محدود شده و جنگ معصومیت‌اش رو دزدیده برای من جذاب و دلنشین بود. تا حدی هم باب آشنایی با آداب و رسوم مردم اون ناحیه رو فراهم کرد.
مطالعه این کتاب کمی طولانی تر از حد معمول شد. دلیل این مورد ضعف در متن نبود. بلکه خودخواسته کند پیش رفتم و بعضی از جملات رو بارها و بارها مرور کردم. و اینکه با نگاهی جامع به این کتاب چندان شباهتی به یک اثر داستانی نمی‌بینم. بیشتر شبیه یک مجموعه جستار هست یا یک مجموعه داستان کوتاه. به همین علت آروم و پیوسته پیش رفتم.

در پایان هم به نظرم صداقت راوی بسیار ملموس و جذاب بود. اینکه سعی نداشت خودش رو برحق نشون بده و از اعمالش فرارکنه. جریان زندگیش موجب رسیدن به نقطه‌ای شد که حالا بدون هیچ تشویش ماجرای تجاوزش رو بازگو می‌کنه. بقدری راحت که انگار از قدم زدن زیر نم نم بارون صحبت می‌کرد.

کریس ابانی نویسنده این کتاب متولد نیجریه است. بعد از انتشار اولین کتابش به جرم براندازی نرم شش ماه زندانی شد تا اینکه سالها بعد به انگلیس و آمریکا مهاجرت کرد.

و چند نقل قول(اگر امکانش فراهم بود تمام کتاب رو اینجا آپلود می‌کردم):

اگر ما بی‌گناهان این جنگ‌ایم، پس این همه شرارت را از کجا یاد گرفتیم؟ یاغی های پیش‌آهنگی را دیده‌ام که گوش یا انگشت پا یا دست دشمن‌شان را قطع می‌کنند و به سان یادگار در جعبه‌ای نگه می‌دارند. بعضی هم دندان‌ها را جمع می‌کنند و با رنج و زحمت ازشان گردنبند می‌سازند. این‌ها را چه کسی به‌مان یاد داد؟
چه کسی به من یاد داد تا از کشتن لذت ببرم، لذت یگانه‌ای که برایم مانند اوج کامجویی است؟ فرقی نمی‌کند که چگونه مرگی باشد، لذت‌اش یکسان است و کافی است که دقیقا روی همان لحظه، دقیقا ذوی همان عمل تمرکز کنم.

هرگز پسربچه نبوده‌ام. این را از من دزدیده‌اند و هرگز هم مرد نخواهم بود- بدین شکل نه. من شاید هیولایی افسانه‌ای باشم که تنها معاشقه‌ی وحشت‌آور کشتار را می‌شناسد. اگر گریستن یاری‌ام می‌کرد مویه می‌کردم. اما اشک ریختن اینجا سودی ندارد. تازه، تا موقعی که آب آشامیدنی پاک پیدا نکرده‌ام نباید آب بدن‌ام را از دست بدهم.

انگار همیشه در حال پنهان شدن‌ام: هم از خودم هم و هم از دشمن.

تجربه‌ی غریبی است که هم در رویایت باشی و هم بیرون‌اش، هشیار و، در عین حال، در خوابی ژرف. اما در این جنگ آن‌قدر اتفاقات گوناگون افتاده که این یکی هم طبیعی جلوه می‌کند. خواب ایجئوما را می‌بینم و آن شبی که پاکی‌ام را در حضور او از دست دادم. درست که قبل از آن شب هم تجربه داشتم: جان وین وادارم کرد که به زنی تجاوز کنم، اما آن حساب نیست. آن تجاوز بود، این یکی عشق بود، انتخاب بود.

یکی از آنها پرسید: تو کی هستی؟ - به زبان هاسا.
من هم به هاسای روان جواب دادم: از افراد شیخ ریمی‌ام. فکر می‌کردم که در آن موقعیت به نفع‌ام است که اسم شیخ را بیاورم، و همین‌طور هم شد، البته برای چند لحظه.
یکی از جماعت گفت: ممکن است خطرناک باشد که برای یکی از افراد شیخ مزاحمتی ایجاد کنیم.
یکی دیگر نزدیک شد و گفت: اما از نزدیک که ببینی‌اش، قیافه‌اش مثل کافرهاست.
مرا به دردسر انداخت: ثابت کن! ثابت کن یکی از ما هستی و خون روی لباس‌ات مال یکی از آن سگ‌های کافر است، نه خون مومنان.
پرسیدم: چطور ثابت کنم؟
اذان بگو.

بیست‌وهفت خرداد صفر سه

[Trish]

Abani’s work is so shot through with pain that the blessing, when it comes, also sears us. This novella, published in 2007, tells the story of a boy soldier called My Luck. “I have never been a boy. That was stolen from me and I will never be a man—not this way.” Separated from his platoon, he wanders, searching for them while avoiding enemies. He is fifteen. His friends are dead. His family is dead. He punctures the skin on his arm with each new important and personal death, raising bumps that he can feel when the nights are dark.

What makes this work exceptional is the clarity with which Abani describes such a scene, inserting moments of grace when we need it most. There is only observation, not pity. When the platoon commander forces the boy at knifepoint to commit an atrocity, his victim, an old woman, soothes him: "Better the ones like you live." Chapter headings are the signs the boy makes to have conversation after his vocal chords are cut by his platoon leader, to keep him from screaming out when he steps on a landmine. “Silence is a Steady Hand, Palm Flat” and “Mercy is a Palm Turning Out from the Heart.” He has not verbalized for three years.

One cannot help but wonder how the author could spend the hours, weeks, months putting together such a description of misery and not be deeply damaged by it. But Abani in person is warm and funny and perceptive and insightful. Abani’s discussion with Walter Mosley on the eve of the publication of another book answers some questions and raises more. He’s seen plenty, in his time in Nigeria, London, and Los Angeles. I wouldn’t be surprised if each of these countries claimed him as their native son.

Abani publishes though Akashic Books, a Brooklyn-based publisher. He must have a reason for using this publisher, perhaps something to do with his worldview: put your money where your mouth is. But as a result, we must seek out his work—it doesn’t come washing across our laptops like work promoted by the largest publishers. I urge everyone who has not yet had the opportunity to experience Abani’s work to seek him out. It feels relevatory. I would say to read his breakout bestseller, GraceLand, first, but perhaps you should first read this one. It has not gotten enough attention, and is so very worthy.

To Akashic Books, I want to say that you have been given a gift that needs to be shared with the world. There is more you need to be doing with that gift to make sure Abani’s work reaches all of us.

“Rest is a Chin Held in a Palm.”

[Nima]

آن‌چه می‌شنوی صدای من نیست*

برای آن‌ها که کتاب می‌خوانند، خریدن کتاب یکی از لذت‌بخش‌ترین، دردناک‌ترین و البته سخت‌ترین کارهای دنیا است و این سختی از آن‌جایی آب می‌خورد که انتخاب کردن در کنار ظرفیت‌های عظیمش نوعی محدود کردن هم هست. اندیشیدن به انتخاب‌نشده‌ها و نگرانی برای حال آن‌ها خواه ناخواه انسان رنجور و محدود شده در دایره‌ی تنگ انتخاب‌ها را غمگین و افسرده می‌کند. این پیچیدگی‌ها، کتاب خریدن را به یکی از شخصی‌ترین وجوه زندگی کسی بدل می‌کند که به قول سلینجر هنوز حساسیت روح کودکانه‌اش را طور کامل از دست نداده است. چنین فردی هنگام مواجهه با هر پیشنهاد خرید کتابی واکنش نشان می‌دهد و گاه این واکنش به شکل عصیانی بروز می‌کند که باعث می‌شود فرد هرگز به سمت خواندن آن کتاب کشیده نشود. نوعی از لجبازی کودکانه!
با این همه مواردی هم پیش می‌آید که فردِ خسته از رعایت همه چیز، دوست دارد اصولش را زیر پا بگذارد و پیشنهادی را بپذیرد که مانند هم‌آغوشی با دلبرکی طناز در اولین شب آشنایی، آغاز یک تجربه‌ی خطرناک، جذاب و دوست داشتنی است که گاهی هم پایان خوبی خواهد داشت. شاید کتاب "نغمه‌ی شبانه" نوشته‌ی کریس ابانی برای شما چنین باشد. دلبری لاغر اندام که یک شب تا صبح در آغوش خود جایتان دهد و شبی بسازد پر از رضایت‌مندی.
نثر ساده و روان کتاب تناسب خوبی با فرم اثر دارد که تک‌گویی بلند یک پسربچه در بحبوحه‌ی جنگ داخلی نیجریه است. نویسنده -که شاعر نیز هست- حین جستجوی راوی به دنبال جوخه‌اش، با روایتی ساده تصاویری حقیقی از شرارت و رنج و بی‌پناهی انسان در لجنزار متعفن جنگ خلق می‌کند و بی آنکه به ورطه‌ی سانتی‌مانتالیسم بیفتند جایی در ناخودآگاه آدمی، عمیق‌ترین احساسات و عواطف انسانی را درگیر می‌کند.
مترجم کتاب امیر یداله‌پور و ویراستار آن کاوه اکبری است. کتاب ۱۶۹ صفحه دارد و نشر آگه آن را در قطع پالتویی با جلد نرم و کاغذ سبک منتشر کرده است.
* از متن کتاب

["Ben" Yair]

I don't feel up to the task of reviewing this book. Maybe not 'up to the task' but rather 'worthy'. The subject matter alone (child soldiers in Africa) is enough to turn away many a seasoned reader, and I must admit that despite my having read a good number of dark and 'heavy' novels (the most immediate and relevant that comes to mind is Kozinski's "The Painted Bird which one of the review blurbs adroitly points out) I wasn't quite prepared for this.

Coming from a secular and very western cultural mindset, the back cover of this book broke the knees of my senses of comfort and security. And the opening lines and prefatory descriptions of protagonist 'My Luck' and his world similarly cut me down and bludgeoned me into something else, something ready to at least be told about the horrors of this setting.

And horrible it all is. Going into this book please bear in mind that very little in the way of taboo is left untouched or unmentioned. The atrocities of war, the ease of violating any and all inherent morality by way of 'just following orders' or simply abandoning oneself to the bacchanalian insanity of wartime savagery (rape, brutalizing, cannibalization) are put on full display in sparse un-ornamented prose that lays bare the true hell this all is.

Very much in keeping with the tradition of "The Painted Bird" the entirety of this novella is told from the perspective of a young child, the aforementioned 'My Luck'. But unlike that equally brilliant classic also about the horror of humanity and the incredible potential and ability to survive of that classic, here, the child protagonist is not only victim but perpetrator, literal killer the figuratively killed. An interesting continuation and even revising of something I've come to call 'trauma literature'.

But there's more to this story than just its base depictions of rank barbarism and inhumanity. There's a beauty that intertwines itself with all this madness. Some context: I read this book in one sitting (as part of the syllabus for a seminar in narrative I'm taking towards my masters) and while I read the book I listened, as I often do, to music. The specific music I listened to was Hans Zimmer's beautiful score for the Terrence Malick film 'The Thin Red Line'. With those gorgeously haunting notes, including the Melanasian choir voices towards the end, humming and rising me, crashing me down with each subsequent track, I felt less and less inured and comfortable as I read the story. Less and less I was in a comfortable den in Marina del Rey, California, reading a great book to great music while taking sips from a cool drink as a late fall breeze kicked up the star light dappled waters of the nearby waterway. I was stripped bare with each page, each line, each paragraph of this story, the layers of comfort and stability, of warmth, and hope, and assurance, all peeled back in rapid succession leaving behind a growing and desperately ravenous anxiety that quickened my breathing, softened the sharpness of my vision and made more and more difficult the act of reading.

However, though all this was happening, and the task of reading was difficult, the act of comprehending was not. I absorbed each word, devoured each word like a gift of water in an arid desert. 'My Luck's' journey to find his lost unit of land mine disarming, and eventual (spoiler) apparent crossing over into the realm of the dead, a realm different from the promised ones of the received wisdom of his imam father and catholic mother, and actually, as depicted, far more ancient, unnerved me in such a way that could only be described as a proxy version of beatification through suffering (if you'll forgive the borrowing of a Catholic term for this Secular Jew's review. There's a beauty in the small moments of humanity depicted that allow My Luck, and by extension we the readers, respite from the horrors around him. Small moments that show that beneath the horrific exteriors of most there might, just might, beat human hearts capable of love, morality, and sustaining life rather than ending it.

Read this book. It's a harrowing and destructive, but ultimately redemptive kind of necessary. This is fiction at its most diamond hard and cuttingly beautiful.

[Cheryl]

This book starts with the alluring line: "What you hear is not my voice." Brilliant. Especially since the book is about a teenage child soldier and mine diffuser who was chosen to work in the mine battlefield because "our light weight would protect us from setting off the deadly mines even when we stepped on them," and whose vocal cords were severed so that "we wouldn't scare each other with our death screams."

The book is ghastly, starting with an orphaned boy alone, in a forest, his girlfriend also recently killed, and he's trying to regroup with his platoon. It gets a bit confusing at times, until 70% in when the clues are really being thrown at you and you realize that there is a haunting twist. Since the main character, My Luck, is alone, the book reads like monolithic blocks of text in most places, and you don't get to learn a lot about other characters ( the rest of the platoon for example--except bits about the leader, John Wayne). Lots of interesting anecdotes, however.

I wanted to read this novel because I thought it would be interesting to hear the sordid details from a child soldier protagonist, yet I had some trouble staying with this character for two reasons:

1. Voice was that of an older man. Sure, he mentions in the beginning that he is older than his age (as he would be in those circumstances), however he is in the middle of a forest and in the height of war, saying things like, "we were not chosen for our manual dexterity." Maybe this young character was a school nerd and highly intelligent before he joined the rebels at age twelve, but some explanation maybe?

2. Sensibility through, say backstory maybe? The entire book centers around a voiceless protagonist, yet the narrative around how he loses his voice is only about a couple of sentences. When My Luck does go into some detail though about his child soldier girlfriend, Ijeoma, and his mother, you get some emotion from the character and some good insight into backstory, yet those were only a couple of paragraphs scattered throughout the book.

[Charles Dee Mitchell]

We know the horror stories from African civil wars. We read about rape, mutilations, child soldiers, adolescents forced to kill their friends or face death themselves. When I hear people discuss these things, they often describe them “inhuman.” But isn’t that a dodge? The unbearable truth is that any act performed by human beings falls within the range of human potential.

My Luck is an adolescent soldier in Nigeria. He has seen his father, the local iman, murdered by his neighbors. He mother was raped and murdered by the men who abducted him into the army. He and the other youngsters are used as mine diffusers, since they are so lightweight they can sometimes step on mines with igniting them. The officers in charge of them have also supervised the cutting of their vocal cords, a practical move to prevent their screams from either alerting the enemy or discouraging their comrades.

My Luck awakens after an explosion to find that his team has left him behind. As My Luck searches through the bush, wanders into a village not yet ravaged by war, and follows a river choked with bodies washing downstream, he recounts his prewar life, his training, and his active duty. Those last two sets of experiences are nightmarish parodies of true military service, but the child’s voice remains matter-of-fact, self-reflective, and sensitive both to nature and the bonds he feels with his fellow soldiers. His sole aim it to reunite with them. Abani’s short novel is a tale of human experience and the human spirit in horrific situations.

[Raven]

An incredibly harrowing and thought provoking read, that unsettles but ultimately completely immerses the reader in My Luck’s plight. I was moved and transfixed in equal measure, and this stands as one of the most powerful indictments of the futility, and barbarous nature of civil war I have ever read.

[Khparisa]

موضو‌ع داستان مربوط به جنگ های داخلی کشور نیجریه ست،، ریتم کند ، روایت هایی که در بستر خیال و توهم ناشی از تنها و‌دور بودن راوی از همرزمانش ، به شدت طاقت فرسا بود
امتیاز دو‌ستاره ام‌به ابن کتاب، بیشتر به وصف ها و جزییاتی بود که در جهت بقا و ادامه زندگی پسر نوجوان تعریف می‌کرد،،

[Naz (Read Diverse Books)]

As a reader, I believe one of my duties is to experience the narratives of people from all over the world and to expose myself to the lived experiences of as many cultures as possible. Sometimes, this means I get to witness people’s love, joy, and adventures. Those stories are wonderful and we love to read and be enriched by them. But our world is also full of nightmares and horrors that far too many people live and encounter on a daily basis. We may choose to go about our daily lives not thinking about such unpleasant matters, but turning a blind eye to people’s suffering means we are devaluing that suffering for the sake of preserving our own comfort.

We are bombarded with gruesome headlines and heartbreaking stories every day, so it has become increasingly easier to ignore other people’s plight. We all do this and I am no exception. That is why fiction that is honest and reflective of our world’s complex, flawed, and painful history is so important for society in general.

Continue reading in my blog: http://wp.me/p7a9pe-td

[Kathrina]

A quick read that lies heavy in the heart. Justifies my love for GraceLand, a favorite book from 2004. Abani combines tough truth with lyricism.

[Kim]

I have seldom read a more beautifully written story than this. That the content is so harrowing makes the beauty of the prose so much amazing.

This book is about a child soldier in a land-mine clearing unit who gets separated from his platoon. In search of his platoon he crosses the country, visiting both the physical and the emotional effects of war on both himself and the country. As if being 13 and a soldier is not bad enough, the landmine-clearing units have their vocal cords severed so that if they are blown up by a mine their screams will not distract other members of the unit.

This carefully created story carries the reader along, revealing pieces of the protagonist’s story along the way. The horror of war to individuals and countries, the cruelty and destruction is made evident through the kindness and creation that are revealed.

As I have said, a very beautifully crafted book dealing with the least beautiful of occurrences. Outstanding!

[Mark]

Beautiful and terrifying.

[Etenwa Manuel]

"What you hear is not my voice. I have not spoken in three years: not since I left boot camp. It has been three years of a senseless war, and though the reasons for it are clear, and though we will continue to fight until we are ordered to stop—and probably for a while after that—none of us can remember the hate that led us here."

"Nobody explained it at first. Nobody had time; nobody cared; after three years of a civil war nothing is strange anymore; choose the reason that best satisfies you."

"I have killed many people during the last three years. Half of those were innocent, half of those were unarmed— and some of those killings have been a pleasure. But even with all this, even with the knowledge that there are some sins too big for even God to forgive, every night my sky is still full of stars; a wonderful song for night."

"If peace ever comes, I hope it makes us wiser."

"If we are the great innocents in this war, then where did we learn all the evil we practice?"

"I have never been a boy. That was stolen from me and I will never be a man—not this way."

A harrowing and haunting recount of war by a child soldier trained to clear out landmines. This child soldier called 'My Luck' as well as his fellow child soldiers have their vocal chords severed in order to prevent distraction that would arise from screaming on the detonation of unnoticed landmines.

A number of the accompanying activities these child soldiers are forced into doing are mind boggling even for adults let alone children.

Chris Abani describes war in his novella in a way that is so troubling and disturbing that it presents a myriad of questions.

[Lily]

... سرانجام اکنون می‌دانم ما همیشه از مردمان پارسا، از مردمان مهربان، بیزاریم. نه به این خاطر که آنان مهربان‌اند، نه، خدا می‌داند که ما به مهربانی نیازمندیم. به این خاطر که مهربانی‌شان باعث می‌شود بفهمیم خودمان چه گوهی هستیم.

[Robert Burdock]

Song for Night follows the journey of Nigerian boy soldier My Luck as he endeavours to re-attach himself to his platoon, following the unexpected detonation of a mine. The platoon is a special one, one whose job is focused on reconnaissance and mine clearance, and My Luck’s particular role is in the diffusing of mines, a job for which his small stature is particularly suited. My Luck has also been ’adapted’ for mine clearance, having his voice cords severed so he is unable to scream should he be blown up and severely wounded.

Narrated in the first-person by My Luck himself, Song for Night follows the boy soldier as he navigates his way across a war-torn landscape full of danger and horror. Pausing at times to reminisce on his time as a boy soldier, My Luck reveals the abominable acts he's been involved in, and the sights which have scarred his soul forever.

Definitely not recommended for the faint of heat, Song for Night offers a vivid a powerful impression of what it may be like to wander a veritable ‘Hell on Earth’, in an African civil war that’s left little for salvation. There are threads of hope running through the story which keep the reader on the right side of abject despair, but overall a grim story which reveals the abhorrent consequences of war.

At times My Luck's ‘visionary interludes’ can make things slightly confusing at times, but putting this aside Abani presents a truly praiseworthy piece of literature. Read it and you’ll remember it for many years to come. Just be prepared for the shocks.

[Irene]

The women were eating and the smell of roasting meat drove us toward them. "Good evening mothers" we said respectfully. The women paused and cackled, but didn't reply, and why would they since they probably didn't understand our crude sign language. We noted that one woman, not as old as the others, was lying on the ground. She was bleeding from a wound to her head and looked dazed. "May we have some food?" I asked. I was the unranked leader of the group. "We are brave warriors fighting for your freedom." My gestures, pointing to the food and mimicking eating, seemed to be understood as the old woman waved me over for some food.I approached and reached down to the metal brazier with meat roasting on it. I suddenly recoil from the sight of a small arm ending in a tiny hand, and the tiny head still wearing its first down. It only took a minute for the women to calculate the cost of my alarm and revulsion so that even as I reached for my AK-47, they were scattering in flight, not forgetting to first grab onto bits of their gory feast. I emptied a clip into them as my platoon cheered at the snapping of old bones and the sigh of tired flesh even though they didn't yet know why I was killing the women. The woman holding onto the head let goo as she fell and it hit the ground and rolled back toward me. It is that little face, maybe a few months old, that keeps me from rest.

Whoa! Scary stuff in this book here. Not sure if I can continue reading from there...

[Kathleen]

This is a great book.

Chris Abani took me to the world of war, and love and brought me to a place of sad understanding. The story is about a young boy, brought into war as a youngster, to help in locating and defusing mines left to kill anyone in their path. Young boys brought to the 'job' because they don't weigh much (less apt to eat much or to set off the landmine), they'll do what they're told. Then, to make sure they are always quiet... well, you'll have to read it to find out. For me, this book opened up a world of which I was, to say it nicely, ignorant. Fear is an Open Hand Beating over the Heart; Danger is a Deep Silence. These are two of the chapter headings that bring me right to the floor with this young person who has seen death and worse. It's a great book.

[Amphitrite]

I'll give it two stars because I have to address that this is beautifully written and some of the lines will stick with me. But personally, I found this story incredibly triggering and I was forced to read it because it was crucial for three class assignments. At least with the other triggering stories I had to read for this class I could read the wiki and sparknote summary beforehand to prepare myself. This book isn't as well known so I had nothing to really warn me. For those thinking about reading this story please note that there's a detailed r*pe scene and a lot of violence happening to and around a fifteen year old child. Again this is still an excellent read but its not my type of book personally.

[Karen]

One of the rare book to which I wish I could give a sixth star. This beautifully lyrical and tragic book is in a category by itself. The story of a thirteen year old soldier forced to murder, rape and pillage, he nonetheless struggles to guard his own humanity and honor that of the other unfortunates he meets in his terrible journey. I promise you will not forget either the writing, the protagonist or the situation he finds himself in.

[Ayat Al Bloushi]

"I have never been a boy. That was stolen from me and I will never be a man—not this way. I am some kind of a chimera who knows only the dreadful intimacy of killing."


an amazing terrifying experience of a child soldier. It really tells what we couldn't imagine..

[Claire]

Astonishingly beautiful. I’m trying to avoid spoilers, so I’ll say this: About halfway through I understood where it was taking me, and the transition between the story I thought it was and the story it is is deftly managed. It tells a story brutal and beautiful and heartbreaking, about war and what it does to us, and about language too: what we can and cannot say. The narrator and his platoon of children’s mine diffusers have had their vocal cords cut, and each chapter opens by describing one of the signs they created to communicate. What words are necessary to communicate when war reduces your life to such stark necessity, to the balance between life and death?

[Tara]

Read this for H3 but I have to say I was blown away. The journey of the narrator through the novel felt so real yet heartbreaking, especially around the halfway mark when you realise what's actually happening to him.The use of natural imagery such as the greenery and the river to portray the passing of life and time and quite literally passing through death was very effective, and I found myself really enthralled by how...peaceful this novel was for one that portrays all the pain and loss that comes with war. Definitely glad to have picked this novel up, which really poignantly captures the poetry in those small moments of solitary, almost peaceful sadness that the narrator experiences.

[Stephen Heiner]

This was my second time through Song for Night and I only liked it slightly less than my first reading (as I already knew the conceit which had surprised me the first time). Abani's storytelling is visceral and shocking, and perfectly suited to the terrible subject he is willing to encounter: child soldiers in a pointless war.

This is the story of a child telling us about how his childhood and innocence was taken from him, and desperate attempts he and his comrades make in order to reclaim just a bit of humanity amidst a sea of horrors.

[Holt Daniels]

the book had the power to make me burst out crying with no warning and it was so well written in what abani sought to do through his narrator’s voice/internal monologue. extremely painful and emotional read, but so powerful with beautifully flowing prose. also I love a book with super short chapters and the writing was so engaging and clear, which made it easy to read here and there while never losing my attention

[Liz Estrada]

Chris Abani does a masterful job of making what is an only too sad reality (children soldiers from Africa) into a riveting "fiction" novel. At many times, gut-wrenching and tragic, he also shows beauty through his poetic writing.3.7 stars.

[Sofija]

4.85

[Rana]

خیلی حوصله سر بر بود و یک سوم آخرش رو نخونده رها کردم. فقط عنوان فصل‌ها قشنگ بود.

[Eve]

Took me a while to finish but it’s a very powerful story and so well written.

[Chris Hebert]

This book blew my expectations out of the water--Abani's novella blends dreams and myths with reality, and extreme violence with the tragic innocence of the combatants involved in a terrible civil war (which is probably the Nigeria-Biafran War). Of all the books I've read about the Nigeria-Biafran War, this one and Ken Saro-Wiwa's "Sozaboy" stand out to me as the very peak of literary expression about the war. I will definitely be checking out more of Abani's work after reading this.

[Sharon]

Read in one sitting this was a strange haunting tale about a child soldier with a twist at the end I didn't expect.