The Suns of Independence

by Ahmadou Kourouma, Adrian Adams (Translator)

The "Suns of Independence," considered a masterpiece of modern African literature, enables the reader to gain unique insight into African culture and conflicts. Through Fama and Salimata, the husband and wife at the heart of the story, Kourouma conveys the confusion that torments many Africans when a traditional and a later, more materialistic culture collide. The last of the Dumbuya princes who had reigned over the Malinke tribe before the European conquest, Fama seeks a place for himself within the new hierarchy of bureaucrats and border guards. Salimata, haunted by memories of a ritualistic excision and a brutal rape, searches for the means to have a child who will pass on the Dumbuya legacy to future generations. Interwoven with tales and proverbs from the ancient Malinke traditions, this modern novel brilliantly captures the struggles, desires, and dreams of a people in a West African country living through the tumultuous days of Independence.

Genres: Africa, Fiction, France, African Literature, Ivory Coast, 20th Century, Roman

136 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1968

About the author

Ahmadou Kourouma, (November 24, 1927 – December 11, 2003) was an Ivorian novelist.
The eldest son of a distinguished Malinké family, Ahmadou Kourouma was born in 1927 in Côte d'Ivoire. Raised by his uncle, he initially pursued studies in Bamako, Mali. From 1950 to 1954, when his country was still under French colonial control, he participated in French military campaigns in Indochina, after which he journeyed to France to study mathematics in Lyon.
Kourouma returned to his native Côte d'Ivoire after it won its independence in 1960, yet he quickly found himself questioning the government of Félix Houphouët-Boigny. After brief imprisonment, Kourouma spent several years in exile, first in Algeria (1964-1969), then in Cameroon (1974-1984) and Togo (1984-1994), before finally returning to live in Côte d'Ivoire.
Determined to speak out against the betrayal of legitimate African aspirations at the dawn of independence, Kourouma was drawn into an experiment in fiction, his first novel, Les soleils des indépendances (The Suns of Independence, 1970). Les soleils des indépendances contains a critical treatment of post-colonial governments in Africa. Twenty years later, his second book Monnè, outrages et défis, a history of a century of colonialism, was published. In 1998, he published En attendant le vote des bêtes sauvages, (translated as Waiting for the Wild Beasts to Vote), a satire of post colonial Africa in the style of Voltaire in which a griot recounts the story of a tribal hunter's transformation into a dictator, inspired by president Gnassingbé Eyadéma of Togo. In 2000, he published Allah n'est pas obligé (translated as Allah is Not Obliged), a tale of an orphan who becomes a child soldier when traveling to visit his aunt in Liberia.
At the outbreak of civil war in Côte d'Ivoire in 2002, Kourouma stood against the war as well as against the concept of Ivorian nationalism, calling it "an absurdity which has led us to chaos." President Laurent Gbagbo accused him of supporting rebel groups from the north of the country.
In France, each of Ahmadou Kourouma's novels has been greeted with great acclaim, sold exceptionally well, and been showered with prizes including Prix Renaudot in year 2000 and The Prix Goncourt des Lycéens for Allah n'est pas obligé . In the English-speaking world, Kourouma has yet to make much of an impression: despite some positive reviews, his work remains largely unknown outside college classes in African fiction.
At the time of his death, he was working on a sequel to Allah n'est pas obligé, entitled Quand on refuse on dit non (translated roughly as When One Disagrees, One Says No), in which the protagonist of the first novel, a child soldier, is demobilized and returns to his home in Côte d'Ivoire, in which a new regional conflict has arisen.

Reviews

[Czarny Pies · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Les soleils des indépendance" offre une vision cauchemaresque de l'Afrique de l'Ouest à l'époque où les pays venaient tout juste d'avoir obtenu leur indépendance. Comme critique de la société africaine l’après-décolonisation ce roman rassemble énornément à "Une saison d'anomie" de Wole Soyinka le lauréat nigérien du prix Nobel de 1986. Les deux romans sont très amères et pénibles à lire. On les lit par sens de devoir et non pour le plaisir que on y trouve.
Fama, le protagoniste des "Soleils des indépendance" est le dernier rejeton d'une ligne de chefs malinkés. Il vit dans la pauvreté et ne réussit pas à se tailler une place dans la nouvelle afrique. Pour comble de malheur de malheur, il n'est pas capable de faire un enfant à sa femme. Ayant raté sa vie, il trouve une sortie honorable; c'est-à-dire il se fait croquer par un crocodile sacré.

[Benoît · Rating 4 out of 5]

What I loved in Kourouma's first novel is the well-woven evocation, from inside the heads of the two characters, of the broad and complex transformations happening upon independence in West Africa (more precisely Ivory Coast I assume). The two characters are touching in their struggle and relative insignificance, as they try to maintain a destiny that they do not realize is now archaic. This makes their endeavors hilarious at times, but also gives them a lot of trouble. The main character is Fama by the way, an older man who should have continued a line of Doumbouya princes, but you don't live off prestige during the "suns of independences" and he is reduced to odd jobs, torment, anger and helplessness. The minor character is his wife, who shows a much more practical capacity at keeping the household afloat, but who is utterly obsessed by her religious duty to give a child to Fama (despite one of them being quite clearly sterile) and showing no less zeal in resorting to all the available tricks of superstition.
It is a little regrettable that we do not have more parts following Soulimata after the first few, but Kourouma has more than just his characters' story to tell. The tragedy is rather the one of the country, in the now well-known decolonial narrative: so young and half-crumbling when trying to get on its feet, the reality of change that doesn't measure up to the hopes, the depreciation of conditions and lack of opportunities, the fierce and mindless new political arena. Kourouma sees it well, it is all too obvious, so he happily keeps it there, obvious but in the background, and keeps his focus on the significance of his characters small lives: the heavy significance of defeated dreams in too light decisions, the sterile pride, the old-fashioned wisdom and cast-away symbols and heritage, everything so close and so far away.
I found the second part a little incomplete or cut short, it is rather anti-climatic. But Kourouma manages to build an admirable and poetic, almost heroic tale of tentative rise-and-fall (futile and hopeless though it is) in three parts with a grumbling old character that is not particularly likable.

[Gwendolyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

J'ai lu ce livre pour un cours de l'Afrique et la diaspora francophone. J'ai aime les parties de l'histoire de Salimata, mais les autres parties sont comme ci comme ca. Si j'ai une bonne chose du livre, pour moi c'est que maintenant j'ai plus d'interesse dans les sujets de l'Afrique francophone et les droits de l'homme.


Desole si mon francais n'est pas tres bien, c'est pas ma langue maternelle.

---

I had to read this book for a course on French Africa and the diaspora. I loved the parts about Salimata's story, but the other parts were just so-so. If one good thing came of this book, it's that now I am much more interested in the subjects relating to French Africa and human rights.

[Natalie Kopp · Rating 4 out of 5]

There are a few topics that are difficult to read about such as excision and rape. However, it is also difficult to read about how colonization and then decolonization has changed the lives of those who were under colonial rule.
I'm happy to be learning more about African culture even if there are some touchy subjects. I think that if you want to learn about African culture, this shouldn't be the only book you read because there is a lot to learn.

[Vince Will Iam · Rating 4 out of 5]

In a lilting, mystical language, the author offers an insight into traditional West African tales and customs, and brings elements of the social novel. The story is set in an imaginary West African country called Ebony Coast and is partly a satire on the rise of one-party nations across Africa.

Besides, there is a clash between the spirit of greed and degradation portrayed in the city and the noble but declining Mandinka rural life shown in the Horodougou region. We follow the trajectory of Fama who after spending some years in the city returns to his native village as the last living member of the Mandinka dynasty. There are other important characters like Fama's wife Salimata who rebels against male domination. A short but powerful book.

[Pep Bonet · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ce bouquin me laisse avec un mélange de sensations. D’un côté, il raconte, plutôt que décrire, la situation post coloniale dans un pays qui pourrait être la Côte d’Ivoire. Il nous dit sur la vie d’une personne, fils d’une dynastie locale d’un peuple qui est maintenant divisé au moins en deux pays différents, d’où le bizarre pluriel du titre. L’indépendance représente pour lui un changement social important, que le personnage et l’auteur associent généralement aussi à la colonisation: il y a souvent des références à la colonisations et les soleils des indépendances. De l’autre côté, le langage et compliqué, plein de mots franco-africains, plein d’onirisme, d’images. Il devient compliqué de le lire et on n’en tire pas le plaisir attendu.

[Ivete]

Comparative Post-Colonial Leiterature..... I did'nt have time to fully read all four books. this was one of books - and the worst - in the program. I don't know how I finished it, but I did. I can't give my opinion on the quality of the writing because it was translated into brazilian portuguese.

The way the story is told is so raw and makes the experience of reading the book brutal. I felt my stomach turn a few times.

[Mark York · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kourouma capte bien la vie d'un pay africain et les dynamiques entre les grandes villes et le monde rural. Avec une langue bien vivante, il parle a travers les yeux d'un prince d'un village, et aussi sa femme. C'est une histoire de la colonisation, l'independance, et les effects imprevisible de ses transitions. Il parle aussi de la resistance du peuple africain. Ca vaut vraiment la peine de lire ce livre.

[Eugénie · Rating 4 out of 5]

J'ai beaucoup aimé la lecture des Soleils des Indépendances. Un usage très personnel de la langue et des expressions aussi imagées qu'inattendues servent tout à fait les personnages tout en contrastes. La force de Salimata et le pathétique de Fama sont un plaisir de lecture.

[Birdie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read for class! Interesting but hard to get into/understand because of the local language

[Jammie · Rating 3 out of 5]

écriture magique magnifique mais un poil trop misogyne, je vais quand même lire Allah n'est pas obligé

[Blandine Carsalade · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was a bit disappointed by this book as i was expecting something about independence and politics but it was not. Great book though

[Debashis Bandyopadhyay · Rating 4 out of 5]

The suns of independence - Ahmadou Kourouma ~ 133 pages - 4 ★


An insightful representation of free Africa's social and political dilema that runs deep into the veins of the native land. How much colonial imperialism impacted even after Africa's freedom be it personal, social or political can be easily noticed in this novel. Ethnicity of African society was hammered down totally due to the clash with modern European socialism and realism. This text also beautifully shows how the mystic mythology guided moral teaching that constructed African social, political and religious belief system was totally ripped away only to corner the traditional culture's flag bearers from their privileged position.

[Montserrat Muntada · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kourouma fa un retrat de la decadència post-colonial africana. Els protagonistes són un antic príncep i la seva dona que a més, no poden tenir fills. L'obra ens transporta a qualsevol país africà, possiblement Costa d'Ivori, les promeses de la descolonització, la corrupció dels polítics, les misèries del dia a dia. Ell, que havia estat educat per ser príncep, amb la independència, veu que ha perdut el rumb, no s'ha pogut fer amb cap càrrec polític, no pot treballar en res, no té cap influència i es veu obligat a dependre econòmicament de la seva dona que cuina arròs i el ven entre treballadors.
Cada dia doncs té ocasió de tastar noves humiliacions, entre elles, l'esterilitat. Si no té fills, amb ell s'acaba un regnat, la tradició, la cultura del seu poble.
Amb la mort d'un cosí torna al seu poblet, al que havia estat el seu regne i és acollit i respectat pels seus que el tracten amb deferència, com gairebé el príncep que hauria estat si no fos perquè amb la independència, tot es va capgirar.
És una obra molt valuosa, retrat d'un moment caòtic i decadent, d'un país que ja no pot tornar a ser el que era, però que, desorientat, encara no sap cap on va ni com se'n sortirà.

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an interesting look at one man's experience with traditional vs modern life and the transition to independence. It evokes the mythical connections to past ancestors and native lands in contrast to the political upheaval that was starting to change society in many overt and subtle ways. It also touched on the struggle of women vis-à-vis traditional practices and beliefs (initiation through genital cutting, the importance of being able to have children, and the role of women in the household).

[!Tæmbuŝu]

Reviewed by The Complete Review

[Reader]

Maybe because this is satirical, it is harder to connect with the characters.

[Rachel Baker · Rating 3 out of 5]

Je dois relire ce roman, et p-ê la traduction anglaise pour mieux apprécier les enjeux linguistique.

[Nechesa Mabwa]

Good read, good reflection on Africa, then and now

[Laetitia Biya · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interresting novel!

[Isa · Rating 3 out of 5]

La triste vie de Fama et de son épouse dans l afrique post indépendance.

[Don · Rating 4 out of 5]

The sad story of Africa and its experiences under the regimes that span one-time cultural autonomy given way to colonial subservience, and then a supposed independence in which life's various pieces are left unassembled.
Fama is a Dumbuya of the Malinke people; a position which in the past would have placed him as the sovereign ruler of a tribal nation. Now he eked out a living in the capital of a supposedly independent country and cuts a ridiculous figure in shabby regalia playing out a role in funerals and other public events - more a scavenger for the titbits of the feast than an honoured guest. His fall in prestige is all the greater owing to being displaced as hereditary ruler by a colonial intrigue that had favoured a cousin as the acknowledged chief of this people.
The novel evokes the past of the Malinke - a great people who dominated the land because of their proficiency in the crafts of war and trade. The French authorities had outlawed war but nominally favoured trade. But even trade had languished under the edicts of the rulers. The markets of Malinke towns continued as dispirited hubs of the independent countries and the Jula traders had displaced the old aristocracy as the dominant power, leaving only a down-at-heal place for the Dumbuya and his meagre court of praise singer and fetish priest.
On top of all these indignities there is tragedy in Fama's personal life. His wife, Salimata, has not provided him with the heir he needs to continue the line of the true Dumbuya. Her desire for motherhood is all consuming and she is preoccupied with petitioning a marabout, a Muslim holy man, for spells that will help her get pregnant. But even if that might have provided a remedy, Fama is too dispirited to fulfil his role in generating a child. The beautiful Salimata, who should be honoured as a queen, lives a harassed and degrade life as a petty trade selling cooked rice to building workers.
But then the news comes from his native village that the reviled fake Dumbuya has died and Fama is at last in a position when he might claim his inheritance. He heads of in the back of a lorry on a long trip to fulfil the mission. The story describes how the Malinke territories have been subdivided by the post-colonial regimes into petty republics producing little more than the new borders which require production of documents from people in order to conduct the everyday business of life. Fama goes deeper into the lands that were once his family's fiefdom and finds them in the grip of bureaucrats and committees which have assumed the tasks of government. As he gets to his destination even older tensions become evident, with the Islamic surface of town life being washed over by the currents of the older fetish cults.
Nothing can saved Fama, even after he assumes the position of Dumbuya which has bee denied to him for so long. A new wife, inherited from his dead cousin, Mariam, now co-exists with Salimata intensifying the former's grief. The lure of the her marabout confessor, who has always craved a carnal relationship with the senior wife, pulls her further away from Fada and intensifies the sense that he is losing more than he has gained.
This is a pessimistic novel and presumably Kourama felt every justification for making it so. Not much is said about the hopes of the generation that had fought for independence, with Fama being amongst its number, but it is clear that there is a pervasive sense of disappointment. There is little evidence of a dynamic in Malinke society that might renew its struggle for a vibrant life: the decline into hopelessness seems to be written into the script. The whole process is given a degree of dignity by the fact that a writer like Kourama could lay it out as a fact with such relentless logic.

[Frank R. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fama’s struggle is the universal struggle for the recognition of indigenous people’s ancestral right for privilege, tradition, and a livelihood amidst the darkened days of the “suns of independence,” aka “days of independence” following a post-colonial governmental transition. By the end of this tragic tale, however, the word becomes used literally as “sons” denoting a new generation succeeding simultaneously falling short of the machismo , vigor, and intelligence of the old (132).

Usurped by his cousin to the status of chief and struggling to maintain the ways of old, Fama lives in a world of transition where the shades (and “ja”) of his ancestors dwell side by side with fetish priests, spirits of the hunt, amulets and charms, and the demands of Islam. The ancestral cult imbues life into the community of the living and provides recourse for their poor and pathetic lives. Animals take a dramatic role in the plot and are—as the worldview of the characters themselves makes obvious—chief participants in the drama of mankind. Indeed, “the...animals were first to realize the historical significance” of events (133). Reading the signs proves a bit subjective, however, the “crocodiles of Horodugu would never dare attack the last descendent of the Dumbuya, but a “sacred crocodile will attack only if it is sent by the shades to kill,” (133-134).

The theme of Sacrifice runs deeply throughout the novel as well, “a sacrifice is never wasted” especially blood sacrifices (84;96;98). Salimata’s fertility rituals also introduce the notion of signs for sacrifices being accepted or not (49-50). Ultimately, no sign or sacrifice, save for the prophesy of infertility, is fulfilled and all is for nought.

Through Salimata’s tale, we discover another side of Africa: abusive, dysfunctional, and tyrannical toward women. Her desperation to conceive coupled with Fama’s prophesied sterility, “the only true descendent left, a sterile man,” make her take all the more heart breaking and supernatural (68).

A “decent” Muslim, Fama represents a return to tradition as he is called to sacrifice again following his installment—and political maneuvering with the local socialist committee; a great vignette that reveals the true face of post colonial African countries operating still on interpersonal relationships, tribal affiliations, customs, and private agreements—as chief of Togoloba.

I enjoyed this book because it was filled with fantastic ethnographic information (excision rites, the history of tribal formations, magical practices, the theology of sacrifice, etc.) and folklore, Balla’s supernatural tales of metamorphoses and details of funerary rituals, and a narrative of woe encircling Fama and Salimata: the Adam and Eve of a new and disappointing failed African utopia. However, the narrative—in an attempt to mimic a storyteller’s persona perhaps—was repetitive, drowned in minutia, contained more metaphors involving farts and genitalia that I have ever seen in literature, and lost its course at times as it meandered through details. Fama’s inheritance of the chiefdom of the Dumbuyu comprises a major portion of the narrative, but his downfall (over a dream?!) and subsequent death is abrupt, anti-climactic, and disappointing.

[Marie-Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

J'ai pleuré
Poignant, attachant, poussant la réflexion. j'ai adoré. Toutes les listes de lectures devrait l'inclure. J'ai vécu en Côte d'Ivoire en 2010, juste avant l'explosion de la guerre. Je pense que pas mal tous ceux qui ont déjà immigré vont se reconnaitre chez Fama; avec ses souvenirs, ses idéaux, son honneur, qui n'est pas chez lui en quittant son village, mais qui ne reconnait pas sa maison en rentrant à la maison, transformé par la misère et la guerre. J'ai lu et j'ai vu mon père, tellement courageux qui ne se plaindra jamais, mais qui n'a pas de chez lui.
Le langage est absolument spectaculaire; les comparaisons et métaphores sont honnêtement hilarantes.
En 2022, la condescendance coloniale française est malheureusement toujours présente et s'il y a bien un endroit au monde ou ce livre devrait être lu par tous ce serait en France. Le colonialisme, l'espèce de nationalisme croissant dans notre époque, ce n'est pas glorieux. Ça a détruit des nations, des vies, les répercussions se vivent jusqu'à aujourd'hui.
Ce qui m'a le plus touché , c'est que Kourouma n'a pas souligné seulement les douleurs qui le touchaient personellement. Il parle de la place de la femme, de l'excision, des viols, de la pauvreté, de la torture, du mariage, de la société, de la politique, de tout en fait. Ce n'est pas une confession de tristesse, c'est la narration d'une société, et ça le rend le tout encore plus poignant parce que ce n'est pas possible de le nier. C'est une tragédie, mieux écrite que toutes les tragédies grecques ou classiques qui existent parce que le récit de Fama, c'est le récit de toute une population qui a véritablement existée.
Mais ce n'est pas seulement un cri du coeur et un partage, c'est une oeuvre littéraire. Le langage, les images; sont tellement travaillées. C'est de la poésie sans s'arrêter.
Les personnages deviennent attachants, dans leurs réflexions, dans leurs vies. L'amour de Fama pour sa femme m'a complètement bouleversé à la fin.
Je souhaite de la guérison à tout-le-monde. Qu'un jour tous retrouvent leur maison et leur paix.

[Desnudando Libros · Rating 3 out of 5]

Esta novela narra la caída en desgracia de la memoria cultural de un grupo que se encuentra aprisionado por la modernidad que empieza a reclamarse en una Costa de Marfil poscolonial. Las promesas y cambios que deberían producirse con la llegada de la emancipación son, finalmente, un espejismo.

El protagonista de esta obra es Fama, un príncipe malinké y el último de la dinastía de los Doumbouya de Horodougou, quien ha perdido su estatus social. Destronado y condenado al olvido, Fama intenta hasta el límite de lo posible mantener un respeto que no logra avivar ni con todos los sacrificios imaginables.


Fama representa, dentro del pueblo de Togobala, escenario principal, la tradición que busca perdurar en medio de la luz cegadora del progreso y las palabras vacías. Pero, una vez más, las colonias han conseguido explotar durante decenios las tierras y gentes de territorios sometidos para abandonarlos sin subsanar ninguna de las consecuencias que han generado.

El clima turbulento que sacude al lector con los demás personajes, especialmente con aquellos militares que ejercen el control sobre el pueblo, acaba por demostrar que la independencia justifica la violencia, a la que, en última instancia, se ve envuelto Fama.

Como ruido de fondo a la historia de Fama, se alza la voz femenina de Salimata, su mujer, quien denuncia la crueldad a la que son sometidas las mujeres. En concreto, Salimata recuerda la ceremonia de la ablación con tal terror que sus miembros aún tiemblan al recordarlo. Este ritual se une a la imagen de la mujer como esposa y madre, hecho que Salimata no ha podido cumplir, y por ello debe vivir avergonzada y doblegada a los ritos para poder concebir. Las mujeres están al servicio de la felicidad y gratificación de los hombres; sin embargo, ¿dónde queda la suya propia?

Kourouma decidió utilizar la escritura para mostrar la oscuridad que dejaron los soles de las independencias, aunque para él significara el exilio.

[Tatiana Friar McDermott · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading The Suns of Independence by Ahmadou Kourouma was like stepping into a world shaped by transition, contradiction, and the quiet ache of identity in flux. Through the character of Fama—a proud yet fading descendant of nobility—Kourouma explores the spiritual and cultural dissonance that emerged in postcolonial West Africa, where ancient traditions confront the uncertainties of independence.

Kourouma’s prose, infused with Malinké rhythms and proverbs, moves with both poetry and precision. His storytelling doesn’t shout; it resonates. There’s a tenderness in the way he renders collapse—not just of empires and kingdoms, but of a way of being in the world that once carried meaning.

This book invited me to sit with discomfort, to witness the sorrow of displacement, and to reflect on what is lost and what is born when nations, like individuals, seek to redefine themselves. I’m grateful for how it deepened my understanding of African history, and even more for how it expanded my heart.

For those drawn to literature that bridges the personal and the political, that respects ancestral wisdom while questioning power, The Suns of Independence is a quiet, enduring offering.

[Anabelle · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5/5 étoiles (ou 4?)

*lu pour l'université*

Je ne suis pas très familière avec la littérature africaine et l'histoire africaine plus généralement (j'essaie de m'éduquer, mais je crains toujours que ma critique tombe dans l'exotisme).

L'écriture de Kourouma est absolument impressionnante. Son usage du discours indirect libre était particulièrement brillant: il permet d'entrer entièrement dans la tête des personnages sans jugement, personnages qui sont eux-mêmes extrêmement complexes. Leur difficulté à s'adapter au monde des Indépendances reflètent celle (sous-entendue dans l'oeuvre) de leur pays.

Il faut noter que l'oeuvre tend à réifier les femmes (elles sont décrites comme étant la « chose » de divers personnages masculins, et Fama insiste souvent sur la sensualité de leur corps), ce qui s'explique jusqu'à un certain point par le contexte socio-historique. Toutefois, l'auteur semble avoir une certaine sensibilité vis-à-vis les difficultés de la condition féminine (si l'on pense notamment aux dernières réflexions de Fama sur Salimata).

[Book Enchanted · Rating 4 out of 5]

The suns of independence - Ahmadou Kourouma ~ 133 pages - 4 ★


An insightful representation of free Africa's social and political dilema that runs deep into the veins of the native land. How much colonial imperialism impacted even after Africa's freedom be it personal, social or political can be easily noticed in this novel. Ethnicity of African society was hammered down totally due to the clash with modern European socialism and realism. This text also beautifully shows how the mystic mythology guided moral teaching that constructed African social, political and religious belief system was totally ripped away only to corner the traditional culture's flag bearers from their privileged position.

[Poing à la ligne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Une très bonne et belle lecture. J'ai été happée par le contexte, les personnages et l'histoire. J'ai adoré la complexité et la variété des thèmes abordés, la finesse et l'expérience de l'auteur que l'on sent a chaque ligne et a chaque tournant que l'histoire prend. Beaucoup de réflexions ancrées dans le vécu et la temporalité de l'auteur sont proposées : sur les chefs d'Etat, le rôle des partis, la répression politique, mais aussi a une échelle plus intime sur le mariage, les violences faites aux femmes, la stérilité.

L'auteur propose aussi une plongée dans les traditions des Malinkés, sur leurs interactions avec les pratiques plus modernes et héritées de la colonisation.

C'est un roman plein de chocs porté par une plume agréable et subtile.

[Chema Caballero · Rating 4 out of 5]

En esta relectura he apreciado más el estilo y la originalidad de Kourouma, además de su gran ironía. Plantea un tema que surge desde el principio de las independencias, e incluso desde la llegada de la colonización: la convivencia de la nueva concepción de Estado que se impone y la del mundo tradicional. Las dos concepciones chocan, parece ganar la extranjera, aupada por los padres de la independencia. Pero el pueblo busca formas de armonizar las dos. Un tema sin una respuesta clara que también tratan otros autores como Mussa Konaté en ‘La huella del zorro’ y que es clave para entender el África actual. Con una ironía final: como las fronteras trazadas al antojo de los blancos sirven para dividir a los pueblos africanos y enfrentarlos entre sí.