the book of not.

Is a sequel ever As Good? I’m not sure.

It’s confusing because often with sequels, you are keen and excited and salivating for more plot. (Sometimes you’re not – in which case you weren’t even aware there was a sequel and no one gets hurt). Tessa warned me against any sequel to ‘Dune’ by Frank Herbert. She simply said, Don’t do it. It’s not Good. Stay Away. Anything else written by him (or his sons) is not worth it. And I’ve listened to her quite happily since… (that girl has no idea the kind of control she has over me).

I’m glad no one told me to stay away from The Book of Not, the sequel to Zimbabwean author Tsitsi Dangarembga’s first book Nervous Conditions. Which I have already written about here and which I loved reading very much. When I found out there was in fact a sequel I became really excited and my sister and her husband bought it for me online (fancy, no?) for my birthday. Hooray.

It was so lovely to continue the tale that was already pretty fresh in my memory. Naturally it remains a different story. Tambu, the main character is a teenager now and not a child. Rhodesia is painfully and violently turning into Zimbabwe as the beginnings of the civil war seep into daily life. Most of the book takes place at her boarding school; she is one of the six black students on a scholarship at one of the best girl’s convent school in Zimbabwe and is doing her utmost best to prove herself as a legitimate human being by succeeding academically. And her life continues to be pretty shit.

It was a difficult read, not in terms of structure or language or plot. There was something else that made it difficult, a bit messy and all over the place. The book felt uncertain of itself in a vague, sort of violent way, it looped and repeated and faded off into tangents in a disarmingly tragic manner. Which is exactly it and exactly right, this unsettling tone is completely appropriate for such content. Set in a country that is changing messily and violently, about a girl uncertain of who or where she is in an always-shifting but never-changing quandary.

It became increasingly painful to read of this young girl thrust into political and social fuck ups without being equipped or told where and how to direct her anger and identity. There is not one adult or person available to Tambu to help her out and help her grow, she is isolated in a terrifying way. At least in Nervous Conditions there was the incredible character Nyasha who for some reason fades away in this sequel.

I think what made it most difficult was the ending, which just like Nervous Conditions, had no resolution or conclusion. And again you could argue that this is apt for the condition in Zimbabwe and almost every African country – very little sense of warmhearted endings. But the book cut off mid-way as though the author suddenly felt like she couldn’t say anymore and so didn’t. Apparently, she is working on a third novel to complete the series.

Either way, it was incredibly disheartening. 

I may take a break and delve into a new Ursula Le Guin book I recently purchased. My current feelings regarding this particular human race makes me long for stories set on an entirely different and imagined planet, please. I have also been reading some collected essays of Chinua Achebe (which I’m almost finished with). He is incredible and totally brilliant.

Ok.  

A picture of not the most aesthetically pleasing book cover there is: