A stunning betrayal forces a young woman to flee a relationship and forge a new life in one of the most brutal landscapes on earth. Gradually adapting to her new surroundings, she becomes aware of the impending dissolution of an entire culture. A diverse cast of displaced Westerners, local nomads, and djinn converge as everyone scrambles to survive and everything comes undone.
Coming of age in the 1980's, I remember seeing images of north African desert-dwelling peoples in the news and movies. My western adolescent preoccupations disposed me to regard little more than their "otherness;" exotic, strange, alien.
This work has cracked my heart open, recasting the figures of my memory as mothers, brothers, friends. What you have in this work is a revealing account of modern cultural eradication steeped in the constant pressures of drought, sandstorms, and isolation.
In Thirst, we are granted a first-person account of the awesome force that is the Sahara Desert, the way it encroaches upon and informs the rhythms of nomadic life, yielding a people of stoicism and resilience. With the economy and immediacy afforded by a first person narrative, Barron has drawn from her own experience as a Peace Corps volunteer in the late 1980s to reveal the mysterious nomadic Toureg lifestyle. Through their struggles, ranging from climatic pressure, to political disenfranchisement and its attendant loss of dignity, we come into communion with "the other" to appreciate our shared humanity.
This work exposes many human emotions. I felt betrayal from a first love, the anguish of witnessing genocide, the desperation of thirst. I stepped into the young protagonist's coming of age; her courage, and her newfound freedom through unconditional acceptance of life as it is.
See all "others" with fresh eyes after reading this work. It's more than entertainment, it's an opportunity to slake our human thirst for connection and feel yourself a part of the human family.
A 3.25. Recommended by RAIN, written by a PCV who lived among the Tuareg in Tchin-Tabaraden in the late 80's. Fiction, but clearly closely paralleling the actual experience, with names changed. Resonated for me, the familiarity of the day to day experience of life in Niger as an anasara, touched by the connections she made, the people she came to know. And the Sahara as a character, a presence. That was what worked for me.
But the writing often did not. And some of the conceits did not work for me -- the commune of her upbringing, the lost love (Roy)that sent her fleeing to Niger, and his subsequent arrival amongst the nomads....Just felt contrived. And the ending, as well, felt abrupt and unfinished, as though intended to be a teachable moment for the narrator, but not sure what was learned....The sudden violence visited upon the Tuareg by the gendarmes/military likely actually happened, but it just kind of hangs there, shocking.
Thirst will make you realize how many things you take for granted and will cause you to be more appreciative of the simple things in life. Learning about Niger’s Tuareg people was fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time and compelled me to have a tremendous amount of compassion for them. The unique set of characters and how they interacted kept the story alluring all the way to the end, and I could not wait to see what happened next. Thirst was skillfully written and created and did not overlook any details.
I just finished the book Thirst, by K.L. Barron. This book will wring you out and open your eyes. It is a novel that reveals a disturbing truth about human nature. The author deftly plants the reader in the middle of the relationships, and you fall in love with the characters. You will marvel at the suffering and the strength of a nomadic people who treat each day as another day to survive with only their customs and belief in Allah to hope for another day. Thirst casts a light into the dark shadows of persecution, prejudice, and hate. I am humbled by my ignorance and sheltered existence.