Afterlives

I believe this is the newest U.S. cover.

 

Sachsenhausen in 1942

"Both Uncle Ilyas and his son Paul died in Sachsenhausen in 1942. The cause of Uncle Ilyas's death is not recorded but from the memoir of an inmate who survived, it is known that the son of the black singer who voluntarily entered the camp to be with his father was shot trying to escape.

"So what we can know for sure, Ilyas told his parents, is that someone loved Uncle Ilyas enough to follow him to certain death in a concentration camp in order to keep him company."

~~ from Afterlives by Abdulrazak Gurnah

The Chinaman

"'That other store, that belongs to the Chinaman.' [Khalifa] pointed to the other detached property. 'He keeps dried shark fin and sea cucumber and vipusa in there — you know, rhino horn — and those other things they like in China. He keeps them in there and then every few months, when he has enough, he loads it all on to a ship and sends it off to Hong Kong. I don't think it's legal but he knows how to stay out of trouble and how to keep the Customs boys happy. They like those things in China, to make their zub hard. He never rests, that Chinaman, nor does he let any of his family rest. Have you seen his house? There are trays of noodles drying in the backyard, flocks of ducks waddling about in the mud in front, his grocery kiosk is open from dawn until late at night . . . and all the time he is dressed in shorts and a singlet like a labourer, working every hour of the day and night. Have you heard him speak? He sounds just like you and me . . . none of that fong fong fong you expect from a Chinaman. And all his children are the same. If you listen to them speak with your eyes closed, you'd never guess that you were listening to a Chinaman. Have you heard them speak?'"

~~ from Afterlives by Abdulrazak Gurnah

the askari

"They made slow progress despite the officers' shouting and their canes. There was little respite from the under-officers' blows, as the ombasha and the shaush seem to have lost their minds too, goaded into worse ferocity by the Feldwebel. After a while the march settled into a reluctant shuffle despite the best efforts of the tiring under-officers. They stopped often, to rest or to adjust loads, and at every stop there were grumbles and scowling looks. They were not spared the usual perils of the march — the bites and the heat — the intermittent heavy rain, the aching feet from walking in worn-out boots, the exhaustion. All these were even more intolerable to the askari than usual now that they were forced to do menial work. When they finally stopped to make camp in the late afternoon, there was a tense expectation of trouble."

~~ from Afterlives by Abdulrazak Gurnah

he had volunteered

"The recruits were on the march with varying degrees of consent: some were volunteers, others were volunteered by their elders who themselves were under duress, some swept up or coerced by circumstances, some picked up on the road. The schutztruppe was expanding and was eager for fighting men. Some of them talked freely, already swaggering with anticipation, familiar with this kind of work, laughing at the bullying words of their escort, eager to be admitted into the language of scorn. Others were silent and anxious, perhaps even fearful, not sure yet of what lay ahead. Hamza was in the latter category, silently wretched about what he had done. No one had forced him, he had volunteered."

~~ from Afterlives by Abdulrazak Gurnah

stalactites or stalagmites?

"The days of the examinations passed in a blur. We all recognised them as the climax of years of misery, not only because we recognised them as the threshold of whatever futures we desired for ourselves, but also because each of us hoped through them to state our worth and value. Everything conspired to seduce us into this absurd position. We were the heroes of the day, confronting the tests of life and intellect, grappling with an irrational enemy that sought at every turn to ambush and trick us. After each sitting, we set off from the examination hall in a body, like guerillas returned from battle, wandering the streets and parading ourselves as the smiling survivors of the examiners' wiles. We formed self-important discussion groups by the roadside: should the answer have been stalactites or stalagmites? Nobody laughed at us, although our teachers feigned amusement by our intensity. We all knew the prizes that had become available to those who had succeeded ahead of us."

~~ from Memory of Departure by Abdulrazak Gurnah

the same kind of liberal preaching

"'Do you like Peter Abrahams?' I asked.

"'Well, he's not a bad writer,' he said. 'He's too self-conscious, that's the problem. He doesn't write like an African. Do you know what this book reminds me of? Alan Paton. It has the same kind of liberal preaching, soft-nosed and confused. Do you know what I mean? There is no sense of identification with the mass of oppressed Africans.'"

~~ from Memory of Departure by Abdulrazak Gurnah

Abdulrazak Gurnah and Willem Frederik Hermans

"When the Monsoon Winds Turned: The lost worlds of Abdulrazak Gurnah" by Nafida Mohamed is an engaging read and an opportunity to learn about the winner of the 2021 Nobel Prize for Literature. A second compelling overview of an accomplished novelist is also included in the July 2022 print issue: "Dutch Master: On Willem Frederik Hermans" by Francine Prose.