Great African Reads discussion

Happy November and December reading! I read this book a couple of years ago and since it's short, will likely reread it. I'm looking forward to the discussion. i thought it was very good.

I have ordered from library. I am looking forward to reading. I have read Anatomy of a Disappearance and enjoyed.

Since I will also be reading What the Day Owes the Night around the same time and I am going to be interested in what similarites I will find between the stories.

Just starting it.

Matar offers this glimpse into a Libyan household routine:

He went into the sitting room and shouted, 'Where's the tea?' Baba had to have green tea after lunch. He said it aided digestion. It was so bitter it made the roof of my mouth itch. . . .

Mama returned with the tea tray. Baba nudged me with his knee. I poured the tea, the steam pungent with mint and sage.

The book Tea: Blends, Origins, Rituals speaks of a similar Moroccan treat:

In Morocco, a type of mint tea is made on a base of green tea, thick with sugar, and served steaming in small glasses: one teaspoon of green tea per cup, two teaspoons of sugar, and a bunch of mint, all brewed together in a pot. When mint is scarce, Moroccan tea drinkers also use sage, basil, or marjoram.

Interesting that some consider English Breakfast and Earl Grey the alpha and omega of tea drinks.

Gorgeous book. This group has really helped me discover some incredible novels.

I wrote a review that is somewhat spoiler-y.

Is anyone else done?

Millicent wrote: "Gorgeous book. This group has really helped me discover some incredible novels.

I wrote a review that is somewhat spoiler-y.

Is anyone else done?"

I just got the book from the library yesterday- will not be able to start until next week - but I should be ready for the discussion in Dec. I have read the author before so familiar with the writing style.

I read it in the past, so I'm waiting for the discussion.

I am planning to read it in December .

Millicent wrote: I wrote a review that is somewhat spoiler-y.

Is anyone else done?"

Yes, I have read the book and, also, (thanks for the link) your review, to which I've added a comment--hope you find it interesting.

I don't think this comment is spoiler-y, but ya' never know, eh?!

In her review of Matar's book, Samar Barakat has written as follows:

We seem to have the usual genre coming out of the Middle East--sociology and political studies posing as literature. They don't make for good bedfellows, in my opinion, or at least not the way it's done in the Arab world. Perhaps the socio/political issues are so pressing and so current that writers cannot devote themselves to exploring the issues normally explored in the novel- by the time the writers are done with conveying what they perceive as the necessary information- of repression, brutality, torture, religion, and exile, there is not much time left for anything else.

Barakat's claim is interesting and challenging. I need to read Arab literature much more widely before I can comment. What I can say that Matar has not, at least in this book, devoted himself so much to what Barakat refers to as the "necessary information" of socio/political issues that he has left himself little time for anything else. In the Country of Men is a relatively short work. Matar has left himself ample time for "exploring the issues normally explored in the novel." If he hasn't done so, it is not because he lacked the time to do it.

So, the question to be answered about Matar's book is this: Does it explore issues that make it worthy of being called a novel? The publisher describes In the Country of Men as "a deeply affecting story of love and betrayal." Seems to me: All that is necessary to refute Barakat's claim about this book is for us to say that our experience of the novel confirms the publisher's description. But does it?

In my review, I wrote (view spoiler)[ Matar gives us a narrative from a boy's point of view. Suleiman's story of his family life Libya under Qaddafi is not a war narrative, but partakes of many of that genre's elements.... Matar's parallels, while not subtle, are also not too crudely rendered. Though this is a political story, its fire derives from the conflicting constellations of loyalty and repugnance within his family. A terrific oedipal tale that also reveals life in totalitarian Libya. (hide spoiler)]

So I'd say that my reading experience, without having read Barakat, was that the novel specifically evoked the elements Barakat suggests are absent, and identifies the elements Barakat says are being foregrounded as being present but not the main impression I took from my reading.

hm. interesting points to discuss. I can sort of see where Samar Barakat is coming from, but i don't think i agree. Also, while i do think many novels coming out of the Arab world are very political and definitely explore social issues, i don't think that's a bad thing.

ummm...so what issues are "normally" explored in a novel?

Hmmm. Sex with a truculent, controlling fellow?

Haha! Ohh...you mean like a "Bildungsroman"? (Just kidding)

Nice discussion point William. In my humble opinion Barakat has a bit of an elitist view on what Literature is or should be. "Perhaps the socio/political issues are so pressing and so current that writers cannot devote themselves to exploring the issues normally explored in the novel-"..... The fact that a writer has been living under a repressive regime for the most part of his or her whole life probably makes it the centre of one's life and therefore the focal point of his/her stories. Stories that are being felt should be told. I'll come back on the publisher's promise about a novel "as a deeply affecting story of love and betrayal.".... Only on page 89....

i just wish she had provided an example of what she thinks is normally explored in a novel. i read this awhile ago, but my recollection is that this book did indeed explore things that i typically see as at least the first layer in a novel: relationships, family, love.

William wrote: "So, the question to be answered about Matar's book is this: Does it explore issues that make it worthy of being called a novel? The publisher describes In the Country of Men as "a deeply affecting story of love and betrayal." Seems to me: All that is necessary to refute Barakat's claim about this book is for us to say that our experience of the novel confirms the publisher's description. But does it? "

I think it depends on your perspective of what Matar was trying to accomplish. I have read better developed political ideas in other novels from the same world, but I also finished them feeling like I'd learned something or had developed an opinion or emotional connection to the issue.

In this book, I feel like the greater goal is to portray the confusion of a child within a volatile situation. He accomplishes this in a way I don't really appreciate, because I wasn't given enough of an information as a reader to put it in context. I felt like I had to go figure out what was going on in a source other than the book itself.

(view spoiler)[Also, the isolation the child feels near the end after being sent to Cairo - I wonder if this is a personal experience of the author, since I note in his bio that while he was born in the USA, he grew up in Tripoli and Cairo. (hide spoiler)]

My review of both books I read for Libya can be found on my Reading Envy blog.

I think one of the first and most important things a writer has to achieve is to make the reader love one of the main characters. Or at least make the reader identify with him/her. I neither loved or sympathized with Smoola. However, the story was interesting enough to understand the madness during the Ghadaffi regime. It sheds a different light on how he found his end in a pipe last year, beaten to death by a crazy mob... Matar was able to grasp the insanity and the fear of the Gahdaffi era. All in all 3 stars....

David wrote: "I think one of the first and most important things a writer has to achieve is to make the reader love one of the main characters. Or at least make the reader identify with him/her. I neither loved ..."

that's how i remember feeling, David. for me, i don't have to like or identify with a character, but i definitely need to have some kind of emotional response to a character...i don't remember having that very much with this book...something was missing for me. but yes, i think Matar definitely evoked the insanity and fear. i should reread it, and i had intended to do that, but i am so behind in so much of my reading! :(

I remember reading once that the definition of art was that it moved you emotionally-- in any direction.

I thought that Suleiman was an effective narrator. I always find it interesting when a child narrators through a disturbing part of history. I thought that Suleiman was a pampered child that thrust into a dangerous situation and did not understand the adult and the consequences of his actions. He had very limited experience on which to fully see the harsh reality of the world he lived in as it was the only world he lived in and when asked pointed questions was given a limpy answer.

Have you read other books by the author?
If so, how did they compare to this book?

i agree, Beverly...but i can't remember how Suleiman affected me on a visceral level. i do remember feeling like the book was missing something for me. the same thing happened when i read his other book Anatomy of a Disappearance: A Novel, which also had a child narrator. i like In the Country of Men better, though, this i am feeling certain about. Now i'm really feeling the pressure to re-read it. :)

Marieke wrote: "i agree, Beverly...but i can't remember how Suleiman affected me on a visceral level. i do remember feeling like the book was missing something for me. the same thing happened when i read his other..."

I also read Anatomy of Disappearance (read last year).
I definitely did not feel the connection to the young narrator in the book.

I too liked In the Country of Men better.

The last three books that we have discussed had young male narrators - Black Mamba Boy, What the Day Owes the Night, and In the Country of Men.

While each book was different - in all there was something to me at me feeling a little detached from each of the narrators.

interesting...i'm still behind so i haven't started either of the other two, but i will pay attention to how i respond to the narrator.

I felt a detachment, too, but to me that was realistic. It reminded me of growing up with older brothers who had a sort of "curious cruel" streak paired with the ability to be caring and careful.

Here is a link to an article and a podcast by Hisham Matar.

I enjoy reading about an author's pov and why they write the type of stories that they do. This insight can help understand their writings - especially of a culture/society that I am not familiar with.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/wor...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/audio...

I probably never would have read In the Country of Men had it not been for Goodreads Group Tour d'Afrique. I tend to avoid novels from sun-baked countries--The language always seems sparse and harsh. Indeed Hisham Matar's story is told with a certain reserve that lets fly secrets. I related the situation in Ghadaffi's Libya to themes that my high school students study: disobedience and submission, freedom and society. The Libyan boy's point of view is a treat.

I would appreciate some discussion about the ending. Somehow the narrator seems to lose the story and fill in the years after in a less artful fashion than the body of the story. Did anyone else see something better than I did in the ending?

hmmm...good thoughts, Sharon. i haven't re-read it yet, but maybe it's the ending that i had trouble with?

Sharon wrote: "I would appreciate some discussion about the ending. Somehow the narrator seems to lose the story...."

I'm wondering: Do you mean that writer Matar has lost the story? Or that the 24-year-old narator in the story has, in a sense, lost his way, i.e. lost his enthusiasm for living? Or do you mean something else entirely?

It seems to me that the 9-year-old boy-narrator was father to the 24-year-old man-narrator, who is still, in some deep sense, a child, a stranger and afraid in a world he never made and can't quite take take hold of.

I had to redo my answer as I got this book mixed up with In the Country of Men.

I was okay with the ending. I thought it showed the uncertainity of lives based on political whims, and for a child (now an adult)and his uncertainty of his live, his world, what he contribute mixed in with guilt.

Just listened to the whole thing on audio on a seemingly interminable drive from Philly to Maine. It got me through gridlock in CT, for which I am deeply grateful.

I didn't like the narrator, but I felt for him. I saw how both weaknesses in his own nature, problems in his family, and the cruel regime under which he lived fed his choices to behave cruelly or inadvertently betray others. For me the novel gave me a vicarious experience of living in a harsh time and place, and the tremendous odds that living there would leave one either dead or morally crippled in some way. The question in our current era, is how can people who have lived in such compromised circumstances build a healthy culture now that regime change has happened. The protagonist doesn't give me much hope in that regard, but I wish I knew more about his friend, because that child might.

Beth wrote: "The question in our current era, is how can people who have lived in such compromised circumstances build a healthy culture now that regime change has happened."

A challenging question, Beth, especially in view of the difficulties we face re-building a healthy culture now that regime change has happened here! :-)

I enjoyed reading this book. The first part of the book feels a bit slow, but it shows what it was like for the boy growing up in Libya. In the middle of the book, it became more fast-paced as we learn more about the Revolution and his father's activities. I also get a good sense of the boy's confusion of what is going on around him at that time and the decisions he makes. The ending was a bit unexpected for me and did not feel terribly dramatic. I would like to learn more about Gaddafi and this time period of history and would have liked if it had been explored further in the novel.