Abyssinian Chronicles
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Amazon.co.uk Review
In his hugely impressive Abyssinian Chronicles Moses Isegawa renders the chaotic swirl of life in Uganda, from a lazy, remote village to the urban rush of Kampala. Containing within its 460 pages weddings, funerals, infidelities, public struggles with corrupt dictatorships (a section called "Amin, the Godfather") and private struggles with God ("Seminary Years"), this is a first novel of epic ambitions. Narrated by Mugezi, the son of a man named Serenity and a woman named Padlock, Isegawa's book is wild and decentred, moving swiftly and confidently from place to place, from character to character. It is the kind of book that says, just follow, trust me, all these names and passions will sort themselves out and make sense sooner or later.
The prose itself bristles and cooks, with graceful transitions ("This time a year passed without hearing any news from Tiida") and scenes lurching with activity. Isegawa, who was born in Uganda but now lives in the Netherlands, is a master of unexpected verbs and details. Here Mugezi describes his mother's voice:
This woman knew how to irritate me on all fronts: her pathetic country-western girlie whine, xeroxed from a white nun from her convent days, the same nun from whom she had inherited the little tremolos which she sprinkled piously on the last hymn every night, really got to me.
Inconsistencies in the narrator's point of view can mar this novel and arrest its progress. The narrator will suddenly describe interior states he couldn't possibly know about: his mother's depression and loneliness, which she hides from everyone, the deepest thoughts of distant relatives. But for readers hoping to glimpse a foreign world, these bumps in the road are worth the ride. --Ellen Williams, Amazon.com
Review
'As Rushdie's Midnight's Children was for modern India, Abyssinian Chronicles will likely prove to be a breakthrough book for Uganda' Time Out 'A bewitching bildungsroman... Abyssinian Chronicles is, in every sense, a big book, exploding with big themes and a rich cast of colourful characters... a spectacular debut' Observer
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Customer Reviews
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
9 of 9 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
Abyssinian Chronicles by Moses Isegawa is an utterly captivating novel about life in Uganda before, during and after the atrocities and confusion of Idi Amin's reign. Mugezi, the central character, narrates his life, ruled by his own personal 'despots' (his parents) who like the rest of the other colourful and believable characters in the book, find themselves vividly illustrated by the imaginative nicknames with which they are described.
At times I laughed out loud only to find myself moved and disturbed by the immense feelings the author pours out on the following page. This is one of the few books I tried to read in one sitting. The poignancy of Mugezi's struggle and that of those around him to find meaning to their lives, illuminates Isegawa's ability to bring to life such a powerful story, this book will make him a name to look out for in the future.
Why is it called 'Abyssinian Chronicles' - read for yourself and understand the links between ambitions, dreams, desires and the brutal realities that have shaped part of Africa's recent history.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
A wonderful read. Really takes you there, and gives you a much better understanding of Uganda.
If you are travelling there, it's a must.
If you are travelling there, it's a must.
Format:Paperback
I've just finished Abyssinian Chronicles. Which is a bit of a relief, because I found it quite hard work. The good stuff first: it's a story that traces a couple of generations through the history of modern Uganda, with the arrival of Idi Amin and the collapse of his regime, the sequence of messy guerilla wars, the rise of AIDS and so on. The central character is initially brought up in a village before moving to Kampala, is from a Catholic background and is educated in a rather brutal seminary; his grandmother is a midwife; he ends up leaving Uganda to move to Holland. So there's lots of good material. And lots of striking incidents and some strong (though not generally very likeable) characters.
Despite which, after reading a hundred pages, I checked to see how long the book was and had a sinking feeling when I saw there were still 400 pages to go.
The problem is the prose style. Quite apart from a tendency to cliché, it seems like Isegawa reacts to similes the way a small child reacts to candy. Everything is like something. These similes are sometimes quite good in themselves -- he describes a priest at the seminary as having `an ego as large as a cirrhotic liver' -- but I found the overall effect distracting. And it's part of a generally over-written, shouty kind of tone the book has which I just didn't get on with; sometimes I'd get into it and be quite absorbed for twenty or thirty pages, and then some turn of phrase would snap me out of it again.
I did wonder whether it was a problem with the translation; but as far as I can tell from the title page, the book was written in English. I guess English must be the author's second language, which is pretty impressive, but doesn't alter the fact that I didn't enjoy his prose.
Here's an example of the kind of paragraph that would annoy me:
'It struck him like a bolt of lightning splitting a tree down middle: Nakibuka! Had the woman not done her best to interest him in her life? Didn't he, in his heart of hearts, desire her? Had he ever forgotten her sunny disposition, her sense of humor, the confident way she luxuriated in her femininity? The shaky roots of traditional decorum halted him with the warning that it was improper to desire his wife's relative, but the mushroom of his pent-up desire had found a weak spot in the layers of hypocritical decency and pushed into the turbulent air of truth, risk, personal satisfaction, revenge. His throttled desire and his curbed sex drive could find a second wind, a resurrection or even eternal life in the bosom of the woman who, with her touch, had accessed his past, saved it and redeemed his virility on his wedding night. Sweat cascaded down his back, his heart palpitated and fire built up in his loins.'
200 pages of this stuff would have been harmless enough, and I might have said that, despite a few flaws, it was still well worth reading; 500 pages was too much.
Despite which, after reading a hundred pages, I checked to see how long the book was and had a sinking feeling when I saw there were still 400 pages to go.
The problem is the prose style. Quite apart from a tendency to cliché, it seems like Isegawa reacts to similes the way a small child reacts to candy. Everything is like something. These similes are sometimes quite good in themselves -- he describes a priest at the seminary as having `an ego as large as a cirrhotic liver' -- but I found the overall effect distracting. And it's part of a generally over-written, shouty kind of tone the book has which I just didn't get on with; sometimes I'd get into it and be quite absorbed for twenty or thirty pages, and then some turn of phrase would snap me out of it again.
I did wonder whether it was a problem with the translation; but as far as I can tell from the title page, the book was written in English. I guess English must be the author's second language, which is pretty impressive, but doesn't alter the fact that I didn't enjoy his prose.
Here's an example of the kind of paragraph that would annoy me:
'It struck him like a bolt of lightning splitting a tree down middle: Nakibuka! Had the woman not done her best to interest him in her life? Didn't he, in his heart of hearts, desire her? Had he ever forgotten her sunny disposition, her sense of humor, the confident way she luxuriated in her femininity? The shaky roots of traditional decorum halted him with the warning that it was improper to desire his wife's relative, but the mushroom of his pent-up desire had found a weak spot in the layers of hypocritical decency and pushed into the turbulent air of truth, risk, personal satisfaction, revenge. His throttled desire and his curbed sex drive could find a second wind, a resurrection or even eternal life in the bosom of the woman who, with her touch, had accessed his past, saved it and redeemed his virility on his wedding night. Sweat cascaded down his back, his heart palpitated and fire built up in his loins.'
200 pages of this stuff would have been harmless enough, and I might have said that, despite a few flaws, it was still well worth reading; 500 pages was too much.
Most Recent Customer Reviews
Even the cover is emotive!
My copy of Abyssinian Chronicles was stolen from the back of a car in Harare by ZANU youth, who thought the picture so provocative it must be MDC literature! Read more
Published on 3 Feb 2003
an evocative and wonderfully written novel
This is one book you won't be able to put down. I was attracted to it by the comaprisons with Garcia Marquez and Salman Rushdie, as well as the desire to learn something about a... Read more
Published on 19 Jan 2001
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