I think the book ends with a hopeless tone in order to demonstrate just what Tambu has lost in the course of her life so far. In this case, the loss is in the extreme, because she's alienated from the one thing she ever had - her self.
Tambu pretty much relied on the "grid" for her life thus far. She had personal drive to succeed, of course, but she launched her person into the world on pre-planned tracks. Ever since rejecting her mom and dad's way of life, she accepted Babamukuru's. Her obeisance to his authority - from day one - stultified her self. She never possessed or exercised true freedom, like, say, Lucia. Lucia is the fundamental foil to Tambu.
Lucia leapt from gridline to gridline of society's structures with dexterity and courage. Moving from institution to institution (family to city to family to mission), Lucia demonstrated the ability to act in accordance with her personal autonomy and aspiration, and not get bogged down in the extraneous aspects of a given institution (family patriarchy, sexual "decency", [classist?] "shame" for being a cook). Her sensitivity to her person, and her persons' needs and desires (she was never ashamed to be with Takesure), curbed her from accepting false promises (for instance, get good grades and you get a good job, Tambu). Perhaps this was selfish of her.
But that's the point: Tambu has refused to be selfish, even in a good way. She firmly and exclusively places herself on the line of Babamukuru's plotting, and therefore, with European culture and hierarchy. Everyone in class hated how she never stood up for herself, and this is seriously unfair. She's in a tough spot, as she constantly reminds us. But it is a tough spot not just because of her circumstance, but because of her negating her own personal experience and validity. (Body/mind disconnect, anyone)
Friday, February 26, 2010
Real Life
I do agree with the majority of the class. The ending of “The Book of Not” is disappointing. We are introduced to this feisty young woman in “Nervous Conditions” who refuses to accept that there are certain positions in life that you can’t rise above. We see this naivety that endears us to Tambu and causes us to hope with her and root for her despite the odds stacked against her. We see her physically stand up for herself against her brother when she figures out he is stealing her mealies. Then as Tambu begins to mature and become more immersed in the “real world” we see this fire that she possesses slowly begin to die out. There are a few times when we almost see the same spark (when she received the best O-level grades and she was certain she would receive the award and this goes on for the better portion of the term) but in the end, she is beaten down and broken by her family and the British education system. But real life doesn't happen the way we want it to. I believe that Dangarembga wrote the end of the book this way because this mirrors real life. In real life, there are (as mentioned numerous times in class this past week) glass ceilings and there isn’t always a “happy ending”.
The conversation with Mai is interesting. The story is told from Tambu’s point of view, who we have been rooting for her Nervous Condition. And from that same time (since nervous conditions), we have seen Mai almost as another obstacle that is blocking Tambu’s way. It’s so easy for us focus on how out of line Mai is, especially once we hear her demanding for what she feels is justified to her after he found out that she was the one who reported Babamukuru to the Elder Siblings. But then again, with Zimbabwea being in this liminal, transition state (especially during the war time), family loyalties and communities fall apart.
The conversation with Mai is interesting. The story is told from Tambu’s point of view, who we have been rooting for her Nervous Condition. And from that same time (since nervous conditions), we have seen Mai almost as another obstacle that is blocking Tambu’s way. It’s so easy for us focus on how out of line Mai is, especially once we hear her demanding for what she feels is justified to her after he found out that she was the one who reported Babamukuru to the Elder Siblings. But then again, with Zimbabwea being in this liminal, transition state (especially during the war time), family loyalties and communities fall apart.
Is it really the end?
I've tried to articulate a more detailed emotion, but when I finished the book, I simply felt so sad.
In my opinion, Dangarembga ended this part of Tambu's journey appropriately, to correct us "lest we thought we lived in a miracle society." (courtesy of Snehal) She highlights the injustices that affect Tambu so that we may further understand the ones that come into our lives. We limit our own society's progress, and sometimes, there really isn't an answer. Politicians can promise resolve for everything under the sun, but in the end, these issues of race, gender, domestic responsibility, warfare, and education persist. This new Zimbabwe seems to be full of promises, but Tambu's journey seems to illustrate that ideas are nice, but they never last long. "I had forgotten all the promises made to myself and providence while I was young concerning carrying forward with me the good and human, the unhu of my life" (246).
This is kind of a free association, but when I think about this New Zimbabwe and how Tambu must feel, I think of a section of Sao Paulo in Brazil (picture above), where the line between the rich and poor is blurry and practically invisible. Earnest, hard-working people work years of their lives collecting trash on bicycles -- some people say, "Why not try to get a different job?" Tambu's experience is why they don't try to get a different job. Regardless of class level and education, to quote Nyasha - life happens. Even if you are doing the right thing and trying to keep your values in check, the world will sometimes run you over...
Also, how interesting that Tambu's final occupation involves writing. The skill of writing isn't always taken seriously, yet excelling at it can be difficult. Writing is supposedly the one discipline that 'doesn't have a right answer' and is a vehicle for 'self-expression and creativity," but 'writing the book that hasn't been written' is next to impossible. If I sat down to write a book tonight, even if I thought I had the most original awesome idea, chances are, somebody would have already done it. Or if I write it, someone might take my idea. I can see where the hopelessness would set in -- she sought after an education, a chance to be an individual, only to realize that in the end, what you learn and what you teach can never be exclusively yours.
The Book of....NOT
I trust what Snehal has to say, I thought the ending was rather disappointing. But its expected because in a way, what is Tambu really building herself up for? It seems towards the end that she no longer has a strong vision of what she can be. At least after Dick steals her jingle. She has moved passively through the last part of school because of her lack of direction.
Once her life became distinctly urban, it reminded me of the city scenes from "The Gods Must Be Crazy"
During class today (outside, which was lovely) we talked about the phone call with Mai. Most people voiced that Mai was being ridiculous, and aggressive. What does Tambu owe her family now that she is a college graduate? What does she owe to them if they can't really provide to her? To get anywhere in this world she needs money and a steady job, but her family needs an educated person and extra arms to help out on the homestead. Tambu, is the one trying to hide and push away her family from her life as this new, modern cosmopolitan Zimbabwean
Few and Far Between
As I reached the end of this novel the glaring question of colonization comes full circle. Tambu’s story is one of confused and isolated identity as she finds herself few are far between two worlds once gripped in tepid cohesion, now being sundered at the very seems. The arrival of a new Zimbabwe does not bode well for miss Sigauke. She spent almost the entirety of her existence striving for a successful life in a colonized world. Could all the hard work, sacrifices, and neuroses be for naught? How is it that Tambu could fail and Nyasha the epitome of lost hybrid child have some semblance of success?
I found this passage interesting; “…the institution was distinguished, clean, white-plastered building, built for an old colonial purpose…the foyer was particularly comfortable…which gave it an atmosphere of extending constantly a generous welcome” (201/202). Tambu goes on to praise the aesthetic comfort of this old colonial building that has been transformed into her hostel. I find this epitomizes in several ways her predicament and her new found situation. The building was obviously not meant to house the single, high density, populace of the new Zimbabwe. The function of the building, like much of the landscape has been transformed post liberation. But Tambu expresses a deep sense of nostalgia for this building, perhaps a throwback or homage to the existence she so identified with in her youthful aspirations.
It would have been interesting to see how Tambu would have developed if her world remained a colonized entity. But now she has to deal with the gripping reality of post colonialism, where the same set of injustices will be delivered, but now their guise and intention are invariably converted – much like the hostel in which now she stays. A hostel in which is in many ways comparative to Sacred Heart, a place she so badly wanted to attend, a place where her world would change – but like the hostel, her forced smile could not hide her inner disdain, and she would leave ignominious.
I found this passage interesting; “…the institution was distinguished, clean, white-plastered building, built for an old colonial purpose…the foyer was particularly comfortable…which gave it an atmosphere of extending constantly a generous welcome” (201/202). Tambu goes on to praise the aesthetic comfort of this old colonial building that has been transformed into her hostel. I find this epitomizes in several ways her predicament and her new found situation. The building was obviously not meant to house the single, high density, populace of the new Zimbabwe. The function of the building, like much of the landscape has been transformed post liberation. But Tambu expresses a deep sense of nostalgia for this building, perhaps a throwback or homage to the existence she so identified with in her youthful aspirations.
It would have been interesting to see how Tambu would have developed if her world remained a colonized entity. But now she has to deal with the gripping reality of post colonialism, where the same set of injustices will be delivered, but now their guise and intention are invariably converted – much like the hostel in which now she stays. A hostel in which is in many ways comparative to Sacred Heart, a place she so badly wanted to attend, a place where her world would change – but like the hostel, her forced smile could not hide her inner disdain, and she would leave ignominious.
The Reality of the Situation
Shocking and disappointing as the ending of this novel might have been, as an autobiographical work, it was totally necessary. As is the case in most real-life situations, not all things ever do end perfectly or with the most anticipated outcome. The Book of Not clearly serves as representation of this and the harsh reality of what life was truly like for most Africans, and more specifically- most African women, of her time.
As most would agree, Tambu’s actions throughout most, and particularly towards the end of the novel, were rather infuriating, as she moved forward in life passively through her final days of Sacred Heart, and the entirety of her first career. All throughout the novel we hear from Tambu of the resentment she holds towards her mother and her fear and strong desire to not turn out like her. From her childhood she had always seen her mother as rather weak and lazy, getting nowhere in life due to her lack of work and effort. Amongst other factors, this particularly was what drove Tambu to work harder and harder at those things of which she did have the power to control. In the end, however, we find that she did not actually even have as much control over this as any of us had imagined. Working as hard as she did enabled to her to maintain a stable position in this world of the “New Zimbabwe,” but not nearly the type of position which it was obvious she truly deserved. It really was sad seeing all of Tambu’s hard work completely overlooked or covered up altogether, or as was the case with Dick, stolen from her and used for someone else’s benefit. All that Tambu truly achieved was never able to be ostensibly manifested or accredited to her. It would seem that she simply allowed this to happen to her, taking no action in fighting against those that had wronged her. The fact of the matter was, however, that there really was not much else she could effectively do in her situation. As difficult as that may be to accept, that was the reality of her situation, which as might be revealed in the third book, will somehow ultimately be able to work to her advantage in the end.
As most would agree, Tambu’s actions throughout most, and particularly towards the end of the novel, were rather infuriating, as she moved forward in life passively through her final days of Sacred Heart, and the entirety of her first career. All throughout the novel we hear from Tambu of the resentment she holds towards her mother and her fear and strong desire to not turn out like her. From her childhood she had always seen her mother as rather weak and lazy, getting nowhere in life due to her lack of work and effort. Amongst other factors, this particularly was what drove Tambu to work harder and harder at those things of which she did have the power to control. In the end, however, we find that she did not actually even have as much control over this as any of us had imagined. Working as hard as she did enabled to her to maintain a stable position in this world of the “New Zimbabwe,” but not nearly the type of position which it was obvious she truly deserved. It really was sad seeing all of Tambu’s hard work completely overlooked or covered up altogether, or as was the case with Dick, stolen from her and used for someone else’s benefit. All that Tambu truly achieved was never able to be ostensibly manifested or accredited to her. It would seem that she simply allowed this to happen to her, taking no action in fighting against those that had wronged her. The fact of the matter was, however, that there really was not much else she could effectively do in her situation. As difficult as that may be to accept, that was the reality of her situation, which as might be revealed in the third book, will somehow ultimately be able to work to her advantage in the end.
Futility and Reality
The conclusion of The Book of Not was a bit jarring for me, as I imagine it was for the rest of you. It seems as though the entire purpose of showcasing Tambu's hard work throughout the novel served only to further sharpen the sting of the injustice dealt to her. While no one likes to see the protagonist of the novel so utterly defeated the way Tambu was, I did appreciate the honesty of it. In most novels, you expect to see the bad guys lose, the good guys win, and everything to work out in the end. However, The Book of Not serves a different purpose, which is to show that the good guys don't always win; indeed, it throws into question the idea of who the good guys in this novel really are. There are some that are definitely worse than others (Ms. Plato comes to mind), but is anyone in this novel truly and totally good? Ntombi becomes sympathetic towards the end of the novel, but still has a violent streak, Babamukuru sacrifices possibly the most out of anyone in this novel, but his reproachful method of family management was highlighted in the last book, and even Tambu herself, the hard worker who overcame amazing odds to do as well as she did, lacked the courage to right the wrongs dealt to her. I would say that one of my favorite aspects of this novel is that it is not afraid to show what can and does happens to people in real life, as opposed to having a fairytale ending.
An Unfinished Ending...
As Tambu ventures back to her room at the hostel, I was reminded of the scene in Nervous Condition when she was frustrated about paying her school fees so she could get an education. This ending of simply wandering back to her room, numb to not knowing what to do and where to go next with her life, I saw the complete and utter conclusion to who Tambu has become. She stopped caring, stopped fighting, stopped being the fiery little girl who kicked her brothers butt for stealing her maize. This entire novel has been about the change that Tambu has made from a young African girl on the homestead to a Westernized black woman with an education who obviously is going to lose some of her culture along the way. However, at the very end of the novel Tambu has run herself into the ground. I am intrigued by events that would follow this last scene in the novel, if it were to continue. Would Tambu find a way to move on? Or would she just lay down and die after quitting everything in her life? Although it is true that she is at a clear disadvantage, I cannot help but feel that giving up and just accepting the fact that she has hit that "glass ceiling" is a ridiculous excuse. No matter her circumstance, she can keep going. Although being a teacher, like Maigaru, is not ideal at least it is a job, at least she has something to live for until she finds something else to fight for. I did not want to novel to end because, despite all of her faults, I wanted Tambu to succeed.
Lateral move?
Considering Tambu's new environment: a hostel with facilities, a city-scape, an office job, public transportation, and then considering her old environment: a homestead with no plumbing, manual labor, random trips to town if you're lucky, I cannot help but think that Tambu has forgotten her roots and just how far she's come in the world. Indeed it isn't a happy place. Let's face it; it never has been. But without doubt, the circumstances have changed and her physical surroundings are a step-up from where she grew up.
Had she jumped directly from the homestead to Harare, I believe she would be much more content with her "mediocrity". I think that her time at Babamukuru's and then at Sacred Heart may have spoiled her after all. She ended up becoming more like Nhamo than she ever would have dreamed. She makes the same comparisons of the combi as he did with the bus from the mission to the homestead.
Her time at Sacred Heart was difficult for multiple reasons, as we all know, but I contend that the worst thing was the fact that her hopes were raised and then dashed so severely. After all we know that it was mostly because of her not receiving the award that the rest of her studies failed. I believe that, had she won, she would have found a way to adjust to the notes given to her as her only means of science education as opposed to have a class setting. We know that she was struggling with it from the start, but as soon as she didn't get her award, "[she] read Angela's notes that day and comprehended even less than usual" (p. 155).
That being said, I think it is for these reasons that Tambu saw Harare the way she did: through eyes with lenses of dejection and self-disappointment.
Had she jumped directly from the homestead to Harare, I believe she would be much more content with her "mediocrity". I think that her time at Babamukuru's and then at Sacred Heart may have spoiled her after all. She ended up becoming more like Nhamo than she ever would have dreamed. She makes the same comparisons of the combi as he did with the bus from the mission to the homestead.
Her time at Sacred Heart was difficult for multiple reasons, as we all know, but I contend that the worst thing was the fact that her hopes were raised and then dashed so severely. After all we know that it was mostly because of her not receiving the award that the rest of her studies failed. I believe that, had she won, she would have found a way to adjust to the notes given to her as her only means of science education as opposed to have a class setting. We know that she was struggling with it from the start, but as soon as she didn't get her award, "[she] read Angela's notes that day and comprehended even less than usual" (p. 155).
That being said, I think it is for these reasons that Tambu saw Harare the way she did: through eyes with lenses of dejection and self-disappointment.
Where did the rage go?
I'm just going to warn you that this blog post is only semi literary in content. My main question when I finished The Book of Not was what happened to Tambu's seething anger that caused her to have mental lapses and periods where she couldn't control her body? A pattern emerges through the series starting with the morning of the wedding in Nervous Conditions (her feeling of being removed from her body) where periods of extreme stress cause her to body to react by lashing out physically or otherwise refusing to obey her brain. This trend seems to disappear after Independence. We all know that Independence isn't the end of Tambu's troubles by a long shot, but with the end of the guerrilla movement she hardly thinks of her sister at all. Even when Mai threatens to visit, the idea of Netsai hopping along on one leg only brings embarrassment, not fear or contemplation.
Now the end of the book is where it gets truly mystifying. I honestly believe Tambu's advertising job was something special to her. She notes that it was by definition not the kind of reputable job Babamakuru would have wanted for her, but she was good at it and took pride in her work. It was special to her because it was truly hers- she didn't have to thank Babamakuru or anyone else for it. When the aptly named Dick takes credit for her work, she begins to rationalize the situation in her typical Tambu fashion (Dick is really a good guy because he at least told me he's taking credit for my work). However, she decides she cannot stand this and resigns.
She resigns by writing a letter. Not even the kind of "Dear Tracy, I've always hated you" type later. It's a simple lie- she is getting married (yeah right) and her husband no longer wishes her to work. Now I didn't expect her to space out and come to her senses to discover she is beating Dick senseless with a baseball bat. I also didn't expect her to Rage Against the Machine on repeat on her Ipod while trashing Tracey's car to fight the system. However, it's just odd that the biggest betrayal of her life doesn't elicit one of these knee jerk physical reactions that always accompany stress in her life. Is Tambu's rage gone, replaced by her depression? Or is this just a false calm before the storm in which her anger comes to a head in the next book?
Now the end of the book is where it gets truly mystifying. I honestly believe Tambu's advertising job was something special to her. She notes that it was by definition not the kind of reputable job Babamakuru would have wanted for her, but she was good at it and took pride in her work. It was special to her because it was truly hers- she didn't have to thank Babamakuru or anyone else for it. When the aptly named Dick takes credit for her work, she begins to rationalize the situation in her typical Tambu fashion (Dick is really a good guy because he at least told me he's taking credit for my work). However, she decides she cannot stand this and resigns.
She resigns by writing a letter. Not even the kind of "Dear Tracy, I've always hated you" type later. It's a simple lie- she is getting married (yeah right) and her husband no longer wishes her to work. Now I didn't expect her to space out and come to her senses to discover she is beating Dick senseless with a baseball bat. I also didn't expect her to Rage Against the Machine on repeat on her Ipod while trashing Tracey's car to fight the system. However, it's just odd that the biggest betrayal of her life doesn't elicit one of these knee jerk physical reactions that always accompany stress in her life. Is Tambu's rage gone, replaced by her depression? Or is this just a false calm before the storm in which her anger comes to a head in the next book?
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Title Fits Perfectly
On the one hand, I am happy that the book did not have the fairytale ending. On the other, I am disappointed that it did not demonstrate some success for Tambu. It just ends with her running away from life. Dangarembga ends the book to show that no matter how much you work, things don't always go our way. It may just be in the past two novels that its just not Tambu's time to succeed. There is a time and place for everything and Tsiti Dangarembga illustrates that. When Nhamo dies, Babamukuru felt it was time for her to be the sacrificial family member and go to school. It had come a time when she got the scholarship to go to Sacred Heart. The book is not all bad where nothing good ever happens, it just shows that life throws punches our way and the ending demonstrates this.
Tambu and Mai do not have a good relationship because of her mother's ignorance. Tambu has outgrown her mother. It's hard to better yourself if you have haters, and your mother should be your number one fan. Mai just looks for ways to discourage her and insists on calling her child because her ignorance does not allow her to see her maturity. Then we have Dick who is seemingly befriending Tambu but is taking credit for her work. That is a slap in the face to Tambu,like slapping her back to her common school days when Tracey received the trophy for O-Levels. Both of these relationships, just show how she is cowered to accept whatever treatment. In my opinion for her mother,she doesn't have to be a Nyasha and be bold, but she should respectfully see that her mother is only doing what she knows. For Dick, she should have stood up and not take someone stealing your work. The relationships demonstrate her flight response and she ran from both. The new Zimbabwean world does not show Tambu very much love, but in the real world you have wins and losses. Tambu is probably thinking of how she can find a way to "adjust the Tambu way".
Tambu and Mai do not have a good relationship because of her mother's ignorance. Tambu has outgrown her mother. It's hard to better yourself if you have haters, and your mother should be your number one fan. Mai just looks for ways to discourage her and insists on calling her child because her ignorance does not allow her to see her maturity. Then we have Dick who is seemingly befriending Tambu but is taking credit for her work. That is a slap in the face to Tambu,like slapping her back to her common school days when Tracey received the trophy for O-Levels. Both of these relationships, just show how she is cowered to accept whatever treatment. In my opinion for her mother,she doesn't have to be a Nyasha and be bold, but she should respectfully see that her mother is only doing what she knows. For Dick, she should have stood up and not take someone stealing your work. The relationships demonstrate her flight response and she ran from both. The new Zimbabwean world does not show Tambu very much love, but in the real world you have wins and losses. Tambu is probably thinking of how she can find a way to "adjust the Tambu way".
The Glass Half Empty?
To me, the New Zimbabwe seems to reflect the old with native students, like Tambu, as the ultimate victims. Despite all the hours studying and obsession over her O levels, Tambu still has to deal with old racial struggles. Yet, her transformation into a more Western figure seems to keep her from fighting, unlike her sister Netsai. Dangarembga takes away all the idealism from “Nervous Conditions” and towards the end of the sequel, Tambu realizes that “I had not considered unhu at all, only my calamities, since the contested days at the convent. So this evening I walked emptily to the room I would soon vacate, wondering what future there was for me, a new Zimbabwean” (246). The unhu that was meant to shape a nation is replaced by calamities with all the new Zimbabweans, like Tambu, trying to search for a new identity.
Dick is a dick. He takes advantage of Tambu’s passive aggressiveness and plagiarizes her work. Despite this, I feel more hostility towards Tambu for giving up on herself and rewiring her bitterness to those she sees as less successful, like her mother, the secretary, etc. So consumed by her bitterness it is hard to see Tambu enjoying anything other than wallowing in her sullenness. Even with the new Zimbabwe, she might have a more difficult time than most pulling herself out of her clinical depression and renew her interests in all her forgotten promises made to herself (246). At the end of the novel, Tambu is just unreliable; so it is hard as a reader to trust that there will be any significant change. However, I can’t stand not finishing a series so I’m looking forward to the end of the trilogy to just bring an end to the story of Tambu, whether it is uplifting or discouraging.
Why Dangarembga ends with a dejected Tambu is difficult to see. Maybe Tambu is going to go on a soul-search now that she quit her job and her mother isn’t coming to visit. In fact, not even she knows where she may be headed, which is similar to the situation of the new Zimbabwe.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
New Zimbabwe
I found that despite the creation of the "New Zimbabwe" much had still remained the same. For example, the company that Tambu works at is still under the control of white people. Black people like Tambu were often still at the bottom. This can be shown at Tambu's workplace: people like Tracey are the bosses while black people like Raphael are the tea boys. Tambu is still in a way "groveling" as Nyasha said in Nervous Conditions. Discrimination against blacks was still common; Tambu mentions how at the place where she is now living, whites always sit away from the rest in the cafeteria. The way Dengarembga ends the book shows the hopelessness of Tambu's situation. Her situation has not changed from the time of Sacred Heart; no matter how hard she works, she can't get the recognition she yearns for. She is not acknowledged for her O levels at Sacred Heart and in the New Zimbabwe, she is not recognized for the contributions she makes to her company with her creative ideas. I think Dangarembga's telling of Tambu's future is the idea that once colonization happens, it's there to stay. No matter how hard you try, you can't escape its effects. This time, Tambu is left without a home and without a family and without a job.
Ending: The Book of Not
"Life happens" (according to Nyasha), and the failure that comes with it disrupts the would-be effectiveness of the performative pretense. Dangarembga illustrates Tambu failing at her own performance - a performance sought to gain approval. Effectively, however, Dangarembga shows, nearly blaming, that the brutality and calamity of war complicates the capability of personal development, the maintenance of one's unhu.
Tambu thwarted from becoming this "jubilant woman" when she discovers that Dick has decided to appropriate her work for himself, claiming it as his own. This non-recognition of Tambu's success is not the first time, for it's happened before. It echoes her non-recognition for her 'O' level success when Tracey Stevenson receives the trophy that should have been rightfully Tambu's, instead. Tambu, at this point, recognizes that "[her] copy was not good enough... under someone else's name, it was." Realistically, it would and will always be this way.
Earlier in the semester, one justification of colonialism was that colonizers take or copy ideas, crafts, or whatever it may be of the colonized, improve and perfect those very ideas, and claim them as their own. If this is justifiable, then Dick, the colonizer, is "copying" Tambu, the colonized.
Dick claims Tambu's copy because he simply represents being a Dick (cleverly named), a colonizer, being white and being a man. When he claims and signs Tambu's work, "Afro-Shine," a product for women, he is clearly stealing the very sense of a product for "brilliant" women. Dangarembga isn't harsh on the character of Dick and almost writes him off as someone who isn't aware or conscious of his actions. For Dick, the copy represents those who are unable to change after Independence - Rhodesians who believe things just happen. For Tambu, being a woman and black, it's impossible to make such an outrageous confession because it would be self-destructive, and as a result a failure to maintain or achieve unhu. It's devastating to see Tambu become everything she proclaimed against, becoming self-loathing, rationalizing that she "never considered unhu at all, only [her] own calamities, since the contested days at the convent."
If Tambu is handicapped from even the smallest of triumphs, how will "New Zimbabwe" change things? Therefore, if decolonization has only begun by the ending of the novel, realigning to the new politics, or overall change, of "New Zimbabwe" may destabilize the mind and body even further, causing a person to be anything but himself. Oh Tambu... how I hope you win some in novel three.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Colonization
I think that the bathroom scene, the Nesquik scene, and the part where Tambu does not win a trophy for her O-levels all show a very negative side of colonization. There is no doubt that these along with many others were very humiliating incidents in Tambu's life and they made me sympathize with her and her situation. But I feel that the biggest negative consequence of colonization was not external but rather internal. The way that living at Sacred Heart amongst the whites has changed Tambu internally is the biggest conflict in the novel. In the novel, Tambu actually begins to believe that the color of her skin is something to be ashamed of, that the whites deserve the special treatment they get, and that she should just be grateful for the generosity of the nuns to accept her into Sacred Heart. These feelings that Tambu had made me realize that what the Rhodesians have done to these black Africans is strip them away from their customs, their language, and their homes. However, the worst thing they have done is to literally strip these Africans away from their mind. If even blacks start hating themselves, then who is going to defend them?
Prompt
Please write about the ending of THE BOOK OF NOT. Why do you think Dangarembga ends the novel in the way that she does? What is the relationship between the fight with Mai and the realization that Dick is stealing your work? What conclusions do you think that Tambu comes to about the "New Zimbabwe"?
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Intense Amount of Thoughts
The basic functions of humans, defecating for example, or eating or standing - these are the things that Tambu has to give great amounts of thought everyday. She has to make sure she stands in exactly the right place in line to avoid contact with the white students. She wonders and debates about where to defecate, and debates to no end whether or not to accept a spoon of chocolate from a white student. That is so strange for me to grasp. It makes sense, when she has to think about these natural actions to such an extent, that she would have a fragile sense of mind. Her breakdown, then, makes perfect sense, and was not in the least surprising. In that sense, I am trying to make sense of the novel's title, "The Book of NOT." The last book's title made perfect sense, as Nyasha's bulimia and the delicate state of family affairs made "Nervous Conditions" perfectly apt. What then, does the "NOT" refer to? To the lack of Tambu's peace of mind? Something to do with Netsai? The book of NOT belonging anywhere? Of NOT having control over one's future or present?
Saturday, February 20, 2010
not such a nervous condition
However anxious Tambudzai's "nervous condition" was in her first novel, she always retained conviction.
As her mind and body revolted against attending her parents' wedding, for instance, her reasons for this upset were still pinned to a groundwork of conceptual certitude. She still firmly believed in the concepts of sin and righteousness; it was their unclear representations which paralyzed her.
When Babamukuru beat Nyasha, Tambu seemed to believe that he otherwise exhibited some standard of good behavior. She didn’t ridicule him like Nyasha did, and she was still extremely concerned with his perception of her. So I feel like a baseline sense of conviction pervades Nervous Conditions: in almost every situation, Tambu nails down a clear mental analysis, and when she’s confused, she can still successfully analyze a given situation to find out what she approves and disapproves of.
So I thought the opening language of The Book of Not was a clear divergence from this sense of conviction. Tambu can’t achieve in school, can’t progress in her situation, and she can’t have conviction in her efforts, for the same reason that her opening language is jarring, jolting, confusing: the conceptual rug has been pulled out from under her. Her point of reference doesn’t exist anymore. To what rank is she rising, if there is such pervasive racism? And for what family can she provide, if they are fighting for themselves, transcending, in a new way, their situation? Who is the great and giving god Babamukuru, if he subjects himself to the ignominy of public beating?
There isn’t a conceptual groundwork of right and wrong anymore. So instead of clearly explaining the situation to us, and even accounting for the confusion we’re sure to experience (“nor am I apologizing for my callousness, as you may define it”) she directly shows us the unreal, horrifically bizarre situation at present. She can’t intellectually understand the situation, so she has to show it to us.
The language of Nervous Conditions really annoyed me. I felt like I was being told things, and not shown them so much. Finally, in The Book of Not, Dangarembga invites ambiguity with her speech, confusion in her explanations, and, in so doing, helps us to actually experience a visceral angst.
As her mind and body revolted against attending her parents' wedding, for instance, her reasons for this upset were still pinned to a groundwork of conceptual certitude. She still firmly believed in the concepts of sin and righteousness; it was their unclear representations which paralyzed her.
When Babamukuru beat Nyasha, Tambu seemed to believe that he otherwise exhibited some standard of good behavior. She didn’t ridicule him like Nyasha did, and she was still extremely concerned with his perception of her. So I feel like a baseline sense of conviction pervades Nervous Conditions: in almost every situation, Tambu nails down a clear mental analysis, and when she’s confused, she can still successfully analyze a given situation to find out what she approves and disapproves of.
So I thought the opening language of The Book of Not was a clear divergence from this sense of conviction. Tambu can’t achieve in school, can’t progress in her situation, and she can’t have conviction in her efforts, for the same reason that her opening language is jarring, jolting, confusing: the conceptual rug has been pulled out from under her. Her point of reference doesn’t exist anymore. To what rank is she rising, if there is such pervasive racism? And for what family can she provide, if they are fighting for themselves, transcending, in a new way, their situation? Who is the great and giving god Babamukuru, if he subjects himself to the ignominy of public beating?
There isn’t a conceptual groundwork of right and wrong anymore. So instead of clearly explaining the situation to us, and even accounting for the confusion we’re sure to experience (“nor am I apologizing for my callousness, as you may define it”) she directly shows us the unreal, horrifically bizarre situation at present. She can’t intellectually understand the situation, so she has to show it to us.
The language of Nervous Conditions really annoyed me. I felt like I was being told things, and not shown them so much. Finally, in The Book of Not, Dangarembga invites ambiguity with her speech, confusion in her explanations, and, in so doing, helps us to actually experience a visceral angst.
Friday, February 19, 2010
I'm really annoyed with the way Tambu is represented in The Book of Not...and, for that matter, the way she is in Nervous Conditions. I realize that she represents a traumatized person seeking a passive state - one where she fits in and succeeds at the same time both physically and psychologically. But common - there are several things she could do to lessen the destructive nature of colonization on her person. In class, I really began to think - how did Babamakuru succeed in this system - he had to have had experienced racism, as well as functional and economic obsolescence; was his success only possible by him being a man? I don't think so - Miguru is highly educated. Tambu really does need a therapist, and this, in reflection, really has become an episode of Mean Girls - one that you want Lindsey Lohan to wake the ===== up in (Lindsey being Tambu in this case). Why not play the game - why not accept the rules and wield them to your advantage - do so well that white people allow you to transcend as much as possible (out of poverty, and out of the womanhood/african/black state of mind...if that's what you want. Over and over in class, Tambu and all the African girls have been described as minds without bodies - needing to be this way because that creates the necessary harmony within the college. If she knows the rules of the game, play - be the mind and trump the other girls - realize that your sister is not you, you are not white, the nuns are bitches, and your success depends on their opinions, your stamina is an asset that needs development to deal with complex issues, and if you want success in the world, wise up and figure out how Miguru did it. jeez.
Borders and Boundaries
It is interesting in “The Book of Not” to see the reoccurrence of “boundaries” and “borders”. We start off in “The Book of Not” with Tambu observing this encounter between Ntombi and Bougainvillea in which Ntombi asks “Bo” for some of her Nesquik and Tambu is worried that Ntombi may reach out and grab “Bo’s” nesquik, which would “pollute it”. So in the book, we are first confronted with the physical boundary: you can look and admire all you want, but you must never, ever touch.
Then there is the passage in which Sister Emmanuel calls all of the girls in Tambu’s dorm room into her office to discuss the government quotas. On page 72, it says “Nor could we help her as we were keeping our heads uncomfortably downcast, with our foreheads wrinkled and our eye sockets aching from swiveling our eyeballs up under our brows. For each one of us had learnt in infancy how to respect, but we had all, since that early teaching, discovered white people expected you to look straight into their eyes when you communicated.” I guess you could call this a communication boundary.
Then in the scene where the girls are listening to the fighting that is taking place at the boys school down away from them, an actual border is mentioned. Page 101 says “The dormitories at the besieged institution, because of the site the fathers from Ireland had chosen to build on, lay closer to the mountains than Sacred Heart, and so occupied a more beautiful part of the highlands. Unfortunatly, as a result of this location, Mt. Sinai abutted on the border with Mozambique, and was therefore more surrounded by peril than we were.” In this instance, this is another physical border, in the geographical sense.
It is interesting that in all these scenarios where there are borders/boundaries mentioned, there is also a mention of distress, whether it be on the part of Tambu or people around her. Dangarembga has done a fantastic job of representing “borders and boundaries” as liminal places where things are not behaving in a normal manner
Then there is the passage in which Sister Emmanuel calls all of the girls in Tambu’s dorm room into her office to discuss the government quotas. On page 72, it says “Nor could we help her as we were keeping our heads uncomfortably downcast, with our foreheads wrinkled and our eye sockets aching from swiveling our eyeballs up under our brows. For each one of us had learnt in infancy how to respect, but we had all, since that early teaching, discovered white people expected you to look straight into their eyes when you communicated.” I guess you could call this a communication boundary.
Then in the scene where the girls are listening to the fighting that is taking place at the boys school down away from them, an actual border is mentioned. Page 101 says “The dormitories at the besieged institution, because of the site the fathers from Ireland had chosen to build on, lay closer to the mountains than Sacred Heart, and so occupied a more beautiful part of the highlands. Unfortunatly, as a result of this location, Mt. Sinai abutted on the border with Mozambique, and was therefore more surrounded by peril than we were.” In this instance, this is another physical border, in the geographical sense.
It is interesting that in all these scenarios where there are borders/boundaries mentioned, there is also a mention of distress, whether it be on the part of Tambu or people around her. Dangarembga has done a fantastic job of representing “borders and boundaries” as liminal places where things are not behaving in a normal manner
Humiliation at Sacred Heart
“…she gave you a mark, a small black blot against your name on the board beside the library. Library hours were compulsory for all, and so everybody saw it. The idea of the mark was bad enough, but what made it worse was everybody could see what kind of person other people thought you were.” (p. 65)
Among the many shocking events in Dangarembga’s Book of Not, I couldn’t help but notice the blatant humiliation that the girls are subjected to on a daily basis. Indeed, we know that the African dormitory and its lodgers are often the butt of jokes, but I think it is interesting to note that academically and behaviorally, the girls are all subjected to the “black blot” system. This fact hit me on a personal note because I noticed a similar public exploitation in another student body. We can probably all attest to teachers marking three strikes on the board before being sent to the principal’s office, but I have seen a much different type of embarrassment.
In France, I worked at an English teaching assistant and thus had a solid glimpse into the educational system. On the first day of meeting a new group of students I was supposed to work with, their teacher came into the room with the roster and proceeded to, in front of the entire class, begin pointing out names to me on the list and saying (out loud, with no discretion) what was wrong with each. “This boy has horrible dyslexia, so he is very difficult and has a lot of trouble with his work. And this boy is just plain incompetent. Pay him no mind…” and so on.
This simply isn’t allowed in America. There is such a thing as privacy, even for students. But the French have done things this way for a long time. I asked other assistants if they had encountered the same thing, and they had.
In conclusion, I am inclined to think that the speech about the clogged sewers is along this same line of public shaming, and that the “black blot” system is nothing in comparison. The British/Rhodesian system is one of competition and humiliation, much like the one I saw in France.
Among the many shocking events in Dangarembga’s Book of Not, I couldn’t help but notice the blatant humiliation that the girls are subjected to on a daily basis. Indeed, we know that the African dormitory and its lodgers are often the butt of jokes, but I think it is interesting to note that academically and behaviorally, the girls are all subjected to the “black blot” system. This fact hit me on a personal note because I noticed a similar public exploitation in another student body. We can probably all attest to teachers marking three strikes on the board before being sent to the principal’s office, but I have seen a much different type of embarrassment.
In France, I worked at an English teaching assistant and thus had a solid glimpse into the educational system. On the first day of meeting a new group of students I was supposed to work with, their teacher came into the room with the roster and proceeded to, in front of the entire class, begin pointing out names to me on the list and saying (out loud, with no discretion) what was wrong with each. “This boy has horrible dyslexia, so he is very difficult and has a lot of trouble with his work. And this boy is just plain incompetent. Pay him no mind…” and so on.
This simply isn’t allowed in America. There is such a thing as privacy, even for students. But the French have done things this way for a long time. I asked other assistants if they had encountered the same thing, and they had.
In conclusion, I am inclined to think that the speech about the clogged sewers is along this same line of public shaming, and that the “black blot” system is nothing in comparison. The British/Rhodesian system is one of competition and humiliation, much like the one I saw in France.
Stress of Assimilation Both Real and Universal
For Nyasha and now Tambu, the stress of striving for educational success while coping with the complexities of race, gender, and culture, multiplied by the pressure exerted by Baba and what he has achieved, produces a very tangible strain on their mental health. It reminded me of a study I read a couple of years ago on the success of 2nd generation Latinos in America. Unfortunately, I was unable to get the exact article I read initially but I have posted the links of a couple of interesting things I did read that I believe are relevant to the topic.
http://blogs.uscannenberg.org/news21/spring09/2009/04/the-stories-of-the-immigrant-s.html
http://www.dlc.org/ndol_ci.cfm?kaid=127&subid=170&contentid=250096
Nyasha's story and the decline in her mental health are easily comparable with these studies. She, like some 2nd generation immigrants, never lived through the poverty stricken environments that initially spurned the ambition of their parents to achieve success and status. Nyasha is also like these 2nd generation children in that she has grown faster culturally then her parents which produces an emotional disconnect, communication issues and consequently mental instability as well. Since I have yet to finish the book I'll refrain from making judgments on what seems to be the start of Tambu's mental decline.
The New Egocentric Tambu
As we are presented with a new novel by Tsitsi Dangarembga we also find ourselves presented with a completely new Tambu. Though still clearly deserving, and probably in most cases still receiving, some pity from the readers, it is no longer quite so easily-earned. With Tambu's transition to her new school it would seem as though she has almost developed a completely different mindsest and outlook on life. As she is surrounded with various struggles forcing her into such turmoil, and truly has no one around her with whom she can confide her concerns, we see Tambu beginning to regress to a great extent more into her own concerns.
Due to the extreme amount of criticism and worries she finds herself dealt with everyday in her new lifestyle, Tambu decidedly takes up one main goal: to consume herself in her studies, and by doing so, to show everyone that she truly can exceed their expectations, and make the honor roll. Though definitely and ostensibly a positive goal in most respects, it does, however, have its negative effects on the protagonist. Keeping to herself constantly, and thinking of nothing but herself and how exactly she should always act and respond in each situation constantly, she becomes extremely caught up in herself. She ultimately decides on a certain outcome that she would like herself to reach, or a certain image that she would like for others to ultimately see. This drives her to do whatever she feels she must do in order to reach this point, though unfortunately seems to fail at most of these tasks along the way.
As selfish as this new Tambu might seem, as she focuses extensively and primarily on herself and her own self-progression, we still must consider just why exactly it is that she finds herself forced to do this. Placed in the position that she is, having no real friends or alternative goals to strive for, what more could we really expect her to do at this point? Rather than dwelling on and wallowing in her misfortunes she does the productive thing that she knows she can do- submerges herself in her studies and bettering herself to the best way that she knows to do so.
Due to the extreme amount of criticism and worries she finds herself dealt with everyday in her new lifestyle, Tambu decidedly takes up one main goal: to consume herself in her studies, and by doing so, to show everyone that she truly can exceed their expectations, and make the honor roll. Though definitely and ostensibly a positive goal in most respects, it does, however, have its negative effects on the protagonist. Keeping to herself constantly, and thinking of nothing but herself and how exactly she should always act and respond in each situation constantly, she becomes extremely caught up in herself. She ultimately decides on a certain outcome that she would like herself to reach, or a certain image that she would like for others to ultimately see. This drives her to do whatever she feels she must do in order to reach this point, though unfortunately seems to fail at most of these tasks along the way.
As selfish as this new Tambu might seem, as she focuses extensively and primarily on herself and her own self-progression, we still must consider just why exactly it is that she finds herself forced to do this. Placed in the position that she is, having no real friends or alternative goals to strive for, what more could we really expect her to do at this point? Rather than dwelling on and wallowing in her misfortunes she does the productive thing that she knows she can do- submerges herself in her studies and bettering herself to the best way that she knows to do so.
Tambu
Tambu's experiences of the traumas inflicted through the colonial education system and a colonial war illuminate the conventions of education. The Book of Not, thus far, appears to present this organization of unraveling or unbecoming of something. It almost seems as though Tambu is no longer who she is. She once criticized Nyasha but seems to undergo the very same conditions her cousin experienced. I'm disappointed in Tambu, for she loses her identity. She no longer has feelings or attachments to what is truly the essence of being who she is supposed to be proud of, a strong African women. There's no agency in Tambu's life, and all hope is gone. Dangarembga makes Tambu completely incapable. She's derailed to some path of psychological damage where she internalizes with European views that make her inferior to everything, even inanimate objects.
At this point, I feel as if Tambu degrades herself. I'm am left in knots just trying to understand her. The really significant thing about this is that I sometimes forget the words are expressed at Tambu sees it.
As she says, more than once: "What I was most interested in was myself and what I would become." The novel's irony is that Tambu doesn't see how false and unachievable her goal is and the very goals that are simply possible, she fails to realize. It's so amazing that being black in a Tambu's white world is wrong but ironically the whites are in her black world - Africa.
Bougainvillea
I'm going to deviate from the prompt a little bit to discuss one of my favorite characters that we never have time to talk about: Bougainvillea. Like many characters in the novel, Bougainvillea seems to have a very intellectual background; she is constantly quoting and discussing the ideas and actions of the French existentialists. However, it becomes quite apparent early on that her seemingly high minded talk is just pseudo-intellectual banter. Her idea that disorder and chaos are the marks of a highly developed mind are praised by all the girls in her hall, but they all realize that it is an excuse to not keep her room tidy for Miss Otto's inspections. She is appalled that the smokers got kicked out of school, rallying that it is the "principle" that offends her, without really elaborating what principle she is standing up for. Unlike Nyasha, whose search for knowledge leads to a personal revelation and a different worldview, or Tambu, who wants education to have material things, to discover her personhood, or to purge her imperfections, Bougainvillea does not contemplate these issues. For her, education adds a little bit of excitement to her otherwise dreary life, but nothing more.
The scene were Ntombi asks for a bit of chocolate demonstrates the shallowness of Bougainvillea's views. Her language obviously reinforces her racial dominance over the black students by the continued use of the word "them". This act excludes the black students from the conversation and makes it clear that she is speaking only to the white students at the table; the conversation is about the black students, but not with them. Ntombi, who decides to play Bo "tit for tat" ups the ante by innocently requesting some chocolate. She "uses the diminutive (Bo) easily" to refer to Bougainvillea- whereas "Bo" has otherized her and not even called her by name, Ntombi has made this an intimate affair by using her classmate's nickname. The sensitivity of the situation is heightened a few pages later when Tracy attempts to use the nickname and is corrected by another student.
The question of identity and relationships seems like something that should be interesting to someone who is a self expressed existentialist and a thinker, but Bougainvillea resorts to old, worn out ideas about race to frame her answer. She continues to refer to the black students, her classmates, as "they" and makes the act analogous to a handout to a beggar instead of a favor for a friend. A couple chapters later, our ideas about Bougainvillea are reinforced as the starts qouting Heathcliff's tirade in Wuthering Heights about his desire to crush the worms under his feet and that the more they struggle, the more he wishes to destroy them. Bougainvillea then oppressive elements of education for the African students in a way that is very clear in the novel: the more they struggle to become Europeanized, the more the educational system and people like Bo try to convince them that progress for them is an illusion.
The scene were Ntombi asks for a bit of chocolate demonstrates the shallowness of Bougainvillea's views. Her language obviously reinforces her racial dominance over the black students by the continued use of the word "them". This act excludes the black students from the conversation and makes it clear that she is speaking only to the white students at the table; the conversation is about the black students, but not with them. Ntombi, who decides to play Bo "tit for tat" ups the ante by innocently requesting some chocolate. She "uses the diminutive (Bo) easily" to refer to Bougainvillea- whereas "Bo" has otherized her and not even called her by name, Ntombi has made this an intimate affair by using her classmate's nickname. The sensitivity of the situation is heightened a few pages later when Tracy attempts to use the nickname and is corrected by another student.
The question of identity and relationships seems like something that should be interesting to someone who is a self expressed existentialist and a thinker, but Bougainvillea resorts to old, worn out ideas about race to frame her answer. She continues to refer to the black students, her classmates, as "they" and makes the act analogous to a handout to a beggar instead of a favor for a friend. A couple chapters later, our ideas about Bougainvillea are reinforced as the starts qouting Heathcliff's tirade in Wuthering Heights about his desire to crush the worms under his feet and that the more they struggle, the more he wishes to destroy them. Bougainvillea then oppressive elements of education for the African students in a way that is very clear in the novel: the more they struggle to become Europeanized, the more the educational system and people like Bo try to convince them that progress for them is an illusion.
Body v Mind: Rhodesian 1st Circuit Court 1977
In various passages throughout the novel we have examined the disconnect between body and mind, and particularly Tambu’s inability to control her body with her mind. There are a few aspects of this conflict which I find interesting. Primarily, the issues with her body and her inability to control her body tend to deal with cleanliness. There is of course the obvious scenes of bodily function turned to humiliation in the presence of fear, but the wording in these passages strikes me. In the segregated bathroom scene we are given polished depictions of the ablution block. Ablution itself is term used most congruently with religious cleansing or purging. The “Ablution blocks were like that in those days; sanctified places”. They are immaculately clean, and despite her familiarity with the modern flushing commode she still is struck by the aesthetic sterility of the environment, as if she is something unclean, a “black spot against a sea of white”. This issue of cleanliness is consistently brought up. If the issue is bodily control I find it interesting and poignant that contamination and besmirchment are the underlying cause of this neurosis. It isn’t as if the lack of bodily control is manifested in delirium tremors or perhaps unintelligible stuttering, its cleanliness. Even in the initial scene where she inadvertently comes into contact with Sister Catherine it’s the soiling of her matron that she obsesses with (for good cause considering the reaction given by Sister Catherine).
Colonization: does this create a disconnect between body and mind. Is the body to be shunned, spoken of only secretly and softly until reprimanded for its inability to comply? Is the mind all that matters? Will the mind set her free only if she can control her body to point of which it will not hold her back? It is her mind that is to be colonized at Sacred Heart, not her body. The colonization of her country has already been completed, is the insurrection mounting in the hillsides analogous to the insurrection in her bowels? I don’t know, just a thought.
Colonization: does this create a disconnect between body and mind. Is the body to be shunned, spoken of only secretly and softly until reprimanded for its inability to comply? Is the mind all that matters? Will the mind set her free only if she can control her body to point of which it will not hold her back? It is her mind that is to be colonized at Sacred Heart, not her body. The colonization of her country has already been completed, is the insurrection mounting in the hillsides analogous to the insurrection in her bowels? I don’t know, just a thought.
Back cover?
One of the reasons I am an English major [and probably some of you, too] is that I am consistently fascinated by how certain words and syntaxes create particular connotations for each reader.
Let's take the back cover, for instance. It says, "Dangarembga's (not to mention that the author's last name is misspelled on the back...) witty prose dances and sparkles on the page with brilliant clarity as she articulates Tambu's continuing search for self-knowledge in confronting inequalities and prejudice head-on."
When I first read this, I conjured images in my head of Tambu really making a statement at Sacred Heart by standing up for the rights of Africans, becoming a leader figure, maybe tutoring young white girls in her spare time. I pictured rebellion, reform, something really Hallmark-Channel-rags-to-riches-esque. I know I don't always live in the world of harsh reality - I'm rather optimistic, actually - but it's amazing to me how these words put that image in my head, and now that I've read part of the novel, I note that 'dancing' and 'sparkling' are not really words I would use to describe the intensity of the curfew or the shame expressed by Tambu.
I really don't think that Tambu is tackling her problems head-on either. She is not the strong heroine that this cover is making her out to be (I understand that it's hard for her to be), but as much as I complain about her character development, her troubles give her dimension. Most of the time, I think she's pathetic and whiny, but I also feel for her. I feel humiliated on her behalf, I feel angry on her behalf - she makes us feel like she does -- confused. I'm not so sure Dangarembga wanted us to see things with 'brilliant clarity.'
That being said, I feel like I shouldn't read the backs of books anymore. Their descriptions are sometimes accurate and sometimes not. (Book of Not, anyone?)
Traumatic stress
In a few of my english classes this semester and last semester, the professors have been zeroing in on what is now medically described as "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." PTSD,I believe was first used to diagnose soldiers returning from war. But individuals with nonviolent traumatic events can suffer as well. According to wikipedia, citing a published doctor, "(PTSD) is a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event which results in psychological trauma"
Our discussions have keyed in alot on the different psychological stress Tambu has been suffering. Being torn between values and arguing within herself. Spending a few pages discussing where to stand in line. Putting away stress when she can't think about it anymore. And we have some major episodes in which Tambu's mind and body are completely disconnected.
"THis time I wanted to put my hand up even before Sister asked me. But that would mean I had to open my eyes. THey were closed against the dark green pine and wattle plantations on the mountain slopes, and the great tracts of burn brush beside them, green growth oxidised to ah the better to see those people whose legs were to be blown off. If I opened my eyes, I would end up turning my head. Mesmerised I might forget and the tear might fall. IF i kept the eyes closed, I would not do well, rather face a lifetime of being nothing, like Mai. This because of my sister."
The opening scene is coming back to Tambu. The context in which it first appeared, we're there from the explosion through the hospital and then Tambu returns to school. This event, although well experienced and processed, is moved passed as Tambu moves forward at school, but the psychological stress of that incident returns, and becomes compounded with all these other stressful factors.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Religious Tambu
In the novel, we have a short encounter of Tambu's religion on page 154. All through the novel, Tambu has been going through a lot as she claims. She speaks on Netsai's dismemberment of her leg, Babamukuru's beating, and her mother's bitterness. Tambu battles this along with her many panic attacks of being in school. She deals with Ntombi, who she constantly is going back and forth. Tambu has to deal with being the minority and keeps getting marks. She knows what it feels like to be ostracized from certain privileges, for example, the heaven like bathrooms. All the while as a reader, you wonder her religious beliefs. Many of us pray for guidance or strength to get through the day. I wondered about Tambu's religious faith. For I think, for all the stresses, she never relied on a higher power and if she did its not really told until page 154. We learned in the last novel of her families paganism and believing in 'gods' and we know Babamukuru is a christian. Through all of the darkness in Tambu's life, we see things turn around. She does not get anymore marks, higher grades,changes to the senior corridor, and we see things are looking better. "The next morning, up early, I fixed on a veil and padded down to St. Ignatius for the last time, even though I was Protestant, over the short distance to give my thanks in the chapel"(154). That line shows that she is thankful for the changes but it also iterates her westernization. It made me think of how she is separating from her family culturally but also religiously because of her education.
Skeptical of Tambu
I have to admit, at this point in the novel I am very skeptical of Tambu's actions. I cannot seem to figure out why she is acting the way she is. Her mind- body connection seems to be even more prevalent than the first novel and she is constantly trying to please people but never succeeding. Her melt-down in the middle of class, wrestling match with Ms. Plato and brawl with her roommate seem to be all minor (if you can call them minor) illusions of Nyasha's tantrum in Nervous Condition. I feel as if Tambu is going through the same inner battle that Nyasha was, but is expressing it in a different way. Nyasha chose to forgo eating, in Tambu's case she is refusing to let her feelings catch up with her. On more than one occasion we have seem Tambu push away any feeling and suppress it so that she does not have to deal with it. This is manifesting in her life, just like Nyasha's eating disorder. Her feelings can only be kept inside for so long and it is evident that they are wanting out. The constant pull between her culture and her education, and now between colonization and her education, is pulling her in so many directions that it might be more beneficial for her to pick one side and completely disown the rest.
Where is Netasi
From the opening paragraph/chapter, I believed that The Book of Not was going to be more about Netasi, and her struggle than about Tambu at school. I am a little disappointed that we have not heard more about Netasi and her guerilla warfare, although I am only halfway through the novel so I am not sure when the end holds.
Even though Netasi is not in this novel as much as I expected, I am seeing the effect that the war is having on not only Tambu but the schools and other African girls at the school. Tambu says that one of the local boy's school has been shut down and that there have been white men hanging out around her school. It is also very obvious that the war has caused tension between Tambu and her other Shona roommates. They feel the pressure to live up to the expectations of their white peers, and impress those around them. The war is adding extra pressure because they do not know which side to identify with. Tambu is especially struggling with this because she wants to support her sister, but she also wants to help the troops. For example, she helps make gloves and hats for the men fighting, but her roommates disapprove. Tambu is in a very difficult position with trying to support her sister and fit into the English culture she is exposed to everyday.
Even though Netasi is not in this novel as much as I expected, I am seeing the effect that the war is having on not only Tambu but the schools and other African girls at the school. Tambu says that one of the local boy's school has been shut down and that there have been white men hanging out around her school. It is also very obvious that the war has caused tension between Tambu and her other Shona roommates. They feel the pressure to live up to the expectations of their white peers, and impress those around them. The war is adding extra pressure because they do not know which side to identify with. Tambu is especially struggling with this because she wants to support her sister, but she also wants to help the troops. For example, she helps make gloves and hats for the men fighting, but her roommates disapprove. Tambu is in a very difficult position with trying to support her sister and fit into the English culture she is exposed to everyday.
Wishy Washy Tah-mboo-dzah-ee
I honestly can’t make up my mind about Tambu. I realize that some people may hate her, others are giving her a second chance, or maybe some are in my position of being indecisive. During the first hundred pages of “The Book of Not,” there is a split between what Tambu wants to say versus what she physical does. This rift between her body and mind seems to emulate her repressed identity. To me, the best example of this is the scene where Tambu holds on to Sister Catherine’s hand. “All that was happening was very terribly confusing, but she was my favorite nun. I felt something was terribly wrong, but I smiled at her tentatively, hopefully” (31).
At this point in the novel, I feel that there is still an African quality to Tambu; yet, she is becoming a more passive character than she was in “Nervous Conditions.” Then, when she becomes staunchly obsessed with unhu, I want to give up on her. She no longer questions rules placed upon her and she works so hard to become like the Europeans, whom she puts on a pedestal. On the other hand, again and again Tambu can never fully please anyone whether it is her family, the Sisters, or her dorm mates. In this position, Tambu is a model for colonizers because she is quietly submissive and self-loathing. As cliché as this may sound, until she gives up on this self-delusion, Tambu will never be satisfied and never progress to her full capabilities that she longed for in the early pages of “Nervous Conditions.”
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Eating Disorder - a stretch for the prompt...
Well, I think there are multiple ways at looking through the emphasis food plays in the novel and the connection it has with the colonization of Africa. I can see where the reflection in relation to Ngugi would spark a reaction emphasizing the relationship Nyasha has with her studies - pointing out that without colonization, she would have never conceptualized her world the same and possibly never would have developed her disorder; a conclusion that can easily be debated. My concept though lends me to understand the situation Nyasha develops as a relationship dysfunction, not a global reflection on the state of Africa. My reasoning behind this is simple. Had Nyasha's parents done everything the same - took her to England, emphasized education, provided exponentially, etc. - but given her a model in Miguru that didn't sacrifice food for productivity (productivity defined as household duties and working conventionally) Nyasha could possibly have developed a different form of rebellion. Another concept that is illustrated in the novel around page 93 is Miguru's interaction with body concept and her subliminal (or blatant) transposition on the girls. After criticizing Tambu for having, what Nyasha describes as, a large butt, Miguru asks about the interaction - instead of de-emphasizing the situation, she contributes to it. My interpretation leans heavily on this interaction. I would argue that Nyasha, even if she had been in England, would have developed an eating disorder - I think it was inevitable due to Miguru's example. I do not rely on the continuity between Africa's colonization and Nyasha channeling that.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Nyasha's Rebellion
I think that Nyasha's mental breakdown at the end of the book was a very poignant and dynamic way of bringing to the surface the issue of the Anglicization of the characters and the loss of their original country's culture, which I feel was one of the major internal conflicts for most if not all of the characters in the story. In this novel, it seems that Nyasha served as a sort of physical representation of the damaging effect that stripping an individual of their culture can have on a person: In trying to become the idealized version of herself that her colonial education taught her that she should be, she lost grip on her sanity and suffered a complete mental breakdown. Even the acts she commits in her madness are loaded with meaning: ripping up British history books, telling Babamukuru that they (referring here to the colonial powers-that-be) are trying to force her to hate her own father, who can himself be taken as a metaphor for Rhodesian culture. Her body itself is a visual metaphor; wasted away in an attempt to emulate a foreign physical ideal.
colonization
An eating disorder has a psychological component which affects the way a person sees themselves. Like colonization I think that it is proven more successful when you affect the people mentally. The colonizer has an effect on the culture, religion, and education of the colonized, but it can only be carried on if the people are affected to the point that their view of themselves is distorted. Therefore I think that it is accurate to believe an eating disorder is a metaphor for colonization. Nyasha's refusal to eat can be seen as the way she has chosen to express her inward frustration and battle in response to her identity crisis. After living in English culture at a young age when her identity began to form and was uprooted to her motherland it is only natural that her battle is not only cultural but definitely one with herself. Her attempt to center her life and balance both cultures has failed and the only thing she can put together is her outward appearance. As mentioned in class I believe this is her way of controlling the only thing she can in a home in which Babamukuru is the dictator. It also offers her a way to achieve a certain look that the culture she grew up in would accept, while at the same time rebelling against her father, the very man that puts the food on the table.
Plausible
While reading through Nervous Conditions I often mused on the subject of Nyasha’s struggle with eating disorders so forgive me while I work this out.
I find that it is interesting the Nyasha refuses the food given to her by her parents. This was the first thing that struck me. As precocious, wity, and in control as Nyasha seems on the surface we start to glean the fragile nature of her insecurities underneath. These insecurities are sure to have arisen due to her unique nature of being a ‘hybrid’ child within the novel. The food is a product of her parent’s diligence and productivity. To Nyasha there is an inherent flaw in this by-product of her parent’s submission to colonization. The resources; the grains, the meats, themselves come from their motherland, but in the preparation of this seemingly ‘western’ food the food itself is altered and changed. The end result is a simulated existence being slapped onto the plate and forced to be digested.
When Tambu first arrives at Babamukuru’s house she is unable to eat the food. At first we chalk this up to the routine altering of diet, and the nerves associated with a new environment and we dismissively pass over it. But Tambu shows us at various points the cultural importance created by the connection with food. She initially prefers her Sadza when she still does not want to be tempted by the frills and distractions of affluence. There is the vastly descriptive scene where she garnishes her identity with the preparation of her native dishes in camaraderie with the women. We are not given any deeper scenes of bonding over bacon and eggs, but later we learn that Tambu too yearns for bacon and eggs and perhaps the trappings of colonization.
Nyasha must have associated so deeply with this simulated existence. She would force down the food to appease her parents, only to chuck up later to reassure herself she was still in control. Her world around her was entirely some one else’s. Her parent’s world, another culture’s world, only the accouterments of her intended existence remained glossed over by seemingly good intentions. Eating disorder, seems plausible to me.
I find that it is interesting the Nyasha refuses the food given to her by her parents. This was the first thing that struck me. As precocious, wity, and in control as Nyasha seems on the surface we start to glean the fragile nature of her insecurities underneath. These insecurities are sure to have arisen due to her unique nature of being a ‘hybrid’ child within the novel. The food is a product of her parent’s diligence and productivity. To Nyasha there is an inherent flaw in this by-product of her parent’s submission to colonization. The resources; the grains, the meats, themselves come from their motherland, but in the preparation of this seemingly ‘western’ food the food itself is altered and changed. The end result is a simulated existence being slapped onto the plate and forced to be digested.
When Tambu first arrives at Babamukuru’s house she is unable to eat the food. At first we chalk this up to the routine altering of diet, and the nerves associated with a new environment and we dismissively pass over it. But Tambu shows us at various points the cultural importance created by the connection with food. She initially prefers her Sadza when she still does not want to be tempted by the frills and distractions of affluence. There is the vastly descriptive scene where she garnishes her identity with the preparation of her native dishes in camaraderie with the women. We are not given any deeper scenes of bonding over bacon and eggs, but later we learn that Tambu too yearns for bacon and eggs and perhaps the trappings of colonization.
Nyasha must have associated so deeply with this simulated existence. She would force down the food to appease her parents, only to chuck up later to reassure herself she was still in control. Her world around her was entirely some one else’s. Her parent’s world, another culture’s world, only the accouterments of her intended existence remained glossed over by seemingly good intentions. Eating disorder, seems plausible to me.
Babamukuru
The way Nervous Conditions is written, I tended to place a lot of faith in Tambu's opinions, siding with her on most everything. Of course, I think that is common of protagonists, and in essence part of their definition to illicit strong reader support. But, when it came to Babamukuru, I was confused. The amount of emphasis Tambu, along with many of the other characters, places on him seemed to me a little overdone. His accomplishments were definitely worthy of some praise, as was his generosity. But I wondered how much of it was generosity and how much of it was simply obligation. Either way, I can't deny the things he has done for his family, especially Tambu's father, who I view as flat out lazy and unproductive.
Thus, I came into the end of the novel with my mind made up about Babamukuru, especially after the beating he gave Nyasha. Although she shouldn't have incited him with half the things he said, or in my opinion punched him back, his way of dealing with her rebellion is not something I agree with. Nonetheless, I actually left the novel wishing Tambu had listened to Babamukuru when he told her not to press going to the new school. I had a bad feeling about it (still do), and what really struck me were her new living quarters. I was pro-Babamukuru at that point because he was found the living situation odd, and questioned the Nun about there being 6 beds and 4 closets, etc. Nyasha too caught onto the tone I felt the Nun was using, calling them "African" students.
The pride the nun felt worries me, and I am anxious to find out what happens further. Especially since it seemed like a tone of such condescension and pity.
Progression
“I would have said it was impossible for people who had everything to suffer so extremely” (pg 207). This shows us the intellectual progression of Tambu and her ability to see the world in a different way from the way she viewed the world when she was living on the homestead. It was pointed out that in the beginning of the novel, Tambu was driven to do well and receive and education, and thereby receive the material gains that come with an education. Now she is seeing that having everything doesn’t mean that everything is “okay”. The more Tambu observes Maiguru and her own mother as well as the other women in her life, it becomes obvious to her that the material things won’t solve the problems that come with being a female in their society.
It’s also interesting to see how her respect for Nyasha changes throughout the course of the novel. In the beginning, she considers Nyasha an “outsider”. Then once Tambu is relocated to the mission, she can start to sympathize with Nyash because Tambu is able to see Nyasha operate in her day-to-day life as well as see how she thinks and reasons and, as was pointed out in class, confronts the difficult issues head-on. Instead of repressing the issues that are difficult, like Tambu does, Nyasha ponders and tries to understand, until it reaches a dangerously unhealthy level. Then to see Nyasha, who she considers a strong female, sends Tambu farther into confusions. But like every other deep, important issue that has come up, Tambu represses it. She goes on to say on page 208, “In this way, I banished the suspicion, buried it in the depths of my subconscious, and happily went back to Sacred Heart.” Right before that she had said, “I told myself I was a much more sensible person than Nyasha, because I knew what could or couldn’t be done.” What irony.
It’s also interesting to see how her respect for Nyasha changes throughout the course of the novel. In the beginning, she considers Nyasha an “outsider”. Then once Tambu is relocated to the mission, she can start to sympathize with Nyash because Tambu is able to see Nyasha operate in her day-to-day life as well as see how she thinks and reasons and, as was pointed out in class, confronts the difficult issues head-on. Instead of repressing the issues that are difficult, like Tambu does, Nyasha ponders and tries to understand, until it reaches a dangerously unhealthy level. Then to see Nyasha, who she considers a strong female, sends Tambu farther into confusions. But like every other deep, important issue that has come up, Tambu represses it. She goes on to say on page 208, “In this way, I banished the suspicion, buried it in the depths of my subconscious, and happily went back to Sacred Heart.” Right before that she had said, “I told myself I was a much more sensible person than Nyasha, because I knew what could or couldn’t be done.” What irony.
A Purging of Ideological Consumption
From the introduction to Tambu’s life on the homestead at the beginning of the novel to the transition of her more plush lifestyle on the mission, one might notice that food was always a rather important element. With such matters of food and sustenance incorporated frequently throughout the novel, it is obvious that it truly held a great amount of significance in the makeup of the story, and very possibly served as a crucial symbolic element as well.
With the stark portrayal of the way of living on the homestead it would appear that food was not something to be taken for granted—it was something that each member of the family worked extremely hard in order to produce or attain. Despite all of their hard work and effort it is shown that they still go without many items we are accustomed to today, such as varieties of meets and desserts, which they were only allowed, and greatly relished, on special occasions. Arriving at the mission Tambu relays how unbearably overwhelmed she at first became when presented at each meal with all of the variety the new lifestyle had to offer.
Nyasha, however, already having been immersed in such a lifestyle for such an extended amount of time, began to slowly reject these amenities more and more, from initially cutting down on her diet, to ultimately refusing to consume or retain anything at all. As Tambu grew throughout the novel, embracing and thriving off of all that the mission had to offer, Nyasha’s character only began to weaken—her immense burdens and inner-struggles surfacing more and more as the plot went on. What might not have been so obvious was the fact that, like Tambu, Nyasha had also reached a point at which the things offered to her becoming overwhelming as well. Having been exposed to so much insight in life so rapidly (as opposed to Tambu who still retained a rather vast amount of naivety at this point), the great accumulation of knowledge became simply unbearable for Nyasha by the end of the novel. Reaching the point where even rebellion could no longer bring the slightest bit of ease to her torment, she found herself with no other option but to simply purge herself of some of the excess luxuries that held her bound.
With the stark portrayal of the way of living on the homestead it would appear that food was not something to be taken for granted—it was something that each member of the family worked extremely hard in order to produce or attain. Despite all of their hard work and effort it is shown that they still go without many items we are accustomed to today, such as varieties of meets and desserts, which they were only allowed, and greatly relished, on special occasions. Arriving at the mission Tambu relays how unbearably overwhelmed she at first became when presented at each meal with all of the variety the new lifestyle had to offer.
Nyasha, however, already having been immersed in such a lifestyle for such an extended amount of time, began to slowly reject these amenities more and more, from initially cutting down on her diet, to ultimately refusing to consume or retain anything at all. As Tambu grew throughout the novel, embracing and thriving off of all that the mission had to offer, Nyasha’s character only began to weaken—her immense burdens and inner-struggles surfacing more and more as the plot went on. What might not have been so obvious was the fact that, like Tambu, Nyasha had also reached a point at which the things offered to her becoming overwhelming as well. Having been exposed to so much insight in life so rapidly (as opposed to Tambu who still retained a rather vast amount of naivety at this point), the great accumulation of knowledge became simply unbearable for Nyasha by the end of the novel. Reaching the point where even rebellion could no longer bring the slightest bit of ease to her torment, she found herself with no other option but to simply purge herself of some of the excess luxuries that held her bound.
Colonized Colons
I don't feel sorry that this post mentions feces and vomit.
Colonialization is, bluntly (and with bias to give gusto to the argument), the process of taking over land and integrating the natives into the poticial-social systems of the dominant colonizer, to make the natives the colonized lower class within their own land, in order to extract their labor and resources with no over all regard to the physical/spiritual well being of the peoples colonized.
In a previous class I took on postcolonial literature, a book we didn't read was mentioned in--The Colonizer and the Colonized by Albert Memmi, who btw is an Arab-Berber Jew from French Colonial Algeria- because the colonizer eventually submits completely to a system of colonization.
You are what you eat, as the saying goes. We're all biological machines who chomp on things--be it raw, killed, cooked or factory packaged foods--to gain nourishment by properly digesting the food and excreting the waste. Poop is part of the forces that be in living. We definitely know that from this book. As a metaphor, it could represent health or completeness.
Although its gross, its the natural process. When returning home, Tambu began to boycott their dirty toilet which was so dirty "that it was impossible to find a place to put your feet and you were tempted not to bother to weave your way to the holes" however, Tambu cleans it. Although its a gross scene, its been clear where that food is coming from--the labor of the women of the family, and that's what cleans it away.
At first the food at Babamukurus makes Tambu healthier, and the toilets are much, much better. However, there is something off in the eating and the relationship to food, that is a metaphor for colonialization. Babamukuru would bring home special food for holidays. On 202, there is heavy tension until Nyasha "shovelled" in her food and when her "plate was empty [she and Babmukuru] relaxed and the atmosphere returned almost to normal" She's only eating to placate her father, and Tambu soon discovers that she's not off in her bedroom.
The eating disorder, Nyasha's vomiting, is anatural, its counterproductive, even worse than for a human body than the poor nutrition and stinky poopholes on the homestead.
Remember the definition for Colonialization? Making the natives the colonized in order to extract resources and labor. Isn't that what's happening to Nyasha's body? Before Tambu was just deprived of nutrients, now Nyasha is actively stripping herself of what she's already eaten.
And everyone's reaction is a kind of cognative dissonance. Babamukuru and Maiguru are aware of their daughter's behavior and poor well being, Tambu is well aware. Although she goes to a clinic and gets somewhat better, the real situation isn't addressed because its confusing as to what's the source. The source is a colonization of herself. The mindset has taken over.
Nyasha is not built like Tambu
An eating disorder is an apt metaphor for the process of colonization, but understanding this metaphor means understanding the role that food plays in ‘Nervous Conditions’. Before Tambu embarks upon her new existence at the mission, her whole being is dedicated to her womanly chores, all of which concern food, whether that be the gathering, the preparing, the washing of the dishes, or worse of her, cleaning the place where all this food is eventually disposed of. Conversely, when she arrives at the mission she enters a world with an abundance of food, its as if some how, by the great privilege that comes with white education, comes also this magical freedom from being, at all times, concerned with how the next meal will be accomplished, and in this new world is also the miracle of modern plumbing. “At Babamukuru’s I would have the leisure, be encouraged to consider questions that had to do with the survival of the spirit, the creation of consciousness, rather than mere sustenance of the body.” (58).
Nyasha’s eating disorder, her purging and inability to metabolize her food, is representative of the process by which colonization creates a psychological crisis, a ‘Nervous Condition’ if you will, for colonized individuals who seek a true understanding of their situation and do not shy away from its complexities. Lets look it at like this; a white education and acceptance of the white religion is the means to a good health and a pleasant life, these are the new rules brought on by colonization. Nyasha doesn’t refuse these rules, just as she doesn’t refuse food, however she carefully prods through them, always critical, and for complex reasons that she herself can’t explain, she is unable to follow the rules or absorb their possible virtues. She can’t accept that she is not supposed to be as good as the boys at math, she is troubled by her fellow students blind acceptance of white history and religion, and she can’t put her finger on why. She even wishes that she could be a better daughter to her father, but she can’t be that way, she was not built that way. Tambu hints at seeing these same complexities, these same limitations placed on her by this colonized society, yet she able and willing to bury them in her subconscious. Nyasha can’t do this. She takes on all of her education skeptically, seeking something deeper intellectually then Tambu, who knocks of her goals like ducks in a row striving to do for her family what Babamukuru has done for his. Unlike Nyasha, Baba and Tambu have experienced life on the homestead as reality, and not as some temporary holiday vacation.
Tambu's "standing-up" to Babamukuru
In class today, someone mentioned that he thought Tambu's rebellion was one of bad timing. Had she been more clever and self-preserving, she would have waited until her schooling was through and she had milked all she could from her situation at the mission. I certainly see where this is coming from. By rebelling against Babamukuru at such an important juncture in their family's interactions, she put everything on the line. She risked her luxurious living quarters, her camaraderie with Nyasha and most significantly, her education.
It is precisely this, though, that tells me her rebellion was in absolute earnest. Knowing that her actions would anger Babamukuru, she went forth anyway and stood up for her beliefs. One can argue the timing of this rebellion no end, but the sincerity of it can never be doubted. She was so deeply affected by what this wedding represented that she decided she could be no part of it. We do know that half of her "maniacally" wanted to go, and I believe this is just as important. At the beginning of the novel and also of Tambu's shift from homestead to mission life, Tambu tells us that she was happy to embody the role of the poor peasant girl who ought to and would be forever grateful in both behavior and words for the fortune which Babamukuru has bestowed her. This mentality stuck with her through most of her stay with her uncle's family and also at school, but when Tambu is confronted with the issue of her parents' wedding, we become aware that she can no longer be this subdued, ever-obliging young girl.
The moment Tambu decides not to go to wedding is the moment Tambu has finally found devotion to herself, not Babamukuru.
It is precisely this, though, that tells me her rebellion was in absolute earnest. Knowing that her actions would anger Babamukuru, she went forth anyway and stood up for her beliefs. One can argue the timing of this rebellion no end, but the sincerity of it can never be doubted. She was so deeply affected by what this wedding represented that she decided she could be no part of it. We do know that half of her "maniacally" wanted to go, and I believe this is just as important. At the beginning of the novel and also of Tambu's shift from homestead to mission life, Tambu tells us that she was happy to embody the role of the poor peasant girl who ought to and would be forever grateful in both behavior and words for the fortune which Babamukuru has bestowed her. This mentality stuck with her through most of her stay with her uncle's family and also at school, but when Tambu is confronted with the issue of her parents' wedding, we become aware that she can no longer be this subdued, ever-obliging young girl.
The moment Tambu decides not to go to wedding is the moment Tambu has finally found devotion to herself, not Babamukuru.
Concluding Metaphors
I can certainly understand how an eating disorder - a means of taking back control, a system that makes sense, something kept personal - is an appropriate metaphor for the internal conflict associated with the absorption of colonial education. As was mentioned in class, I think food is not only a representation of sustenance, but also of the hard work employed to harvest and prepare it. In this sense, an eating disorder is not only a rejection of the education and Englishness itself, but of the journeys and sacrifices one must make in the name of one's family and past. By the end of the novel, I think Nyasha resents her father for having made all of this "progress" for his family because it turns all of the people she once found so familiar into strangers.
Ma'Shingayi's and Nyasha's refusals to eat are similar in meaning, but I think the difference lies in the fact that Ma'Shingayi's statement is that there is nothing left for her or her family at this point, while Nyasha's statement is that she wants to break out of this cycle, but doesn't know the way. Ma'Shingayi understands little outside of the divide that English has drawn between her and her children, her life's blood. Her refusal is a sad, painful acknowledgement of the present. When Nyasha's eating disorder erupts into her "kamikaze behavior," she notably shreds her history books. At this point, I almost believe she wants to re-engage with her traditional past, not the past that she has been taught in school. She throws up her food, thereby rejecting the sacrifices her father has made for her and runs into the arms of her mother, an increasingly defiant matriarch figure.
Tambu's attitude towards the subject? I don't think she knows yet. I think she is certainly starting to see some of the negative aspects of colonial education, but I'm not convinced that her heart is solid on one side or the other. One of the questions I have yet to see her ask herself is - what are you going to do with this education? How will you feel when you get to the end of it and then have nowhere to go with it? Will she depend on Babamakuru to find her a job/find a place? I'm not even sure if she's independent yet...but we will see in the next book.
Style choices
I want to discuss Nervous Conditions, specifically zeroing in on the opening chapters and point out the similarities between those and the opening chapters of Things Fall Apart.
Nervous Conditions opens with a bold statement "I was not sorry when my brother died. Nor am I apologizing for my callousness, as you may define it, my lack of feeling." First of all, this line is crucial because she doesn't say that she couldn't cry, she says that she wasn't sorry. This bold statement portrays the powerful feeling of resentment or even a simple separation from any kind of family bond. It reminds me of Achebe's opening chapters of Things Fall Apart. Achebe outlines Unoka and his failures. Unoka is even called a woman- which would be the ultimate insult in a culture like his. I think here, in Nervous Conditions, family is the most important element of culture. And so this disowning that Tambu performs on her brother after his death is certainly the equivalent of Okonkwo calling Unoka a woman.
I also see a similarity in the way that both narrators of both of these books make this bold claim and the step backwards to explain the bold claim, and then make that statement again.
In Nervous Conditions, Tambu begins to relate several experiences that ultimately led to the separation between Nhamo and her. She tells about Nhamo stealing her mealies that she grew for school, which I think angers the audience the most. In these opening chapters, Tambu does a good job of outlining her oppression and how her brother played into that. And I think one of the most important lines is: "Exclusion whispered that my existence was not necessary, making me no more than an unfortunate by-product of some inexorable natural process" (pg 40). This line gives us insight into why Tambu takes such offense to being excluded from school. It is that concept alone that she hates or even fears. During this section Tambu captures her audience and gets them on her side, so that we, too, are not sorry when Nhamo dies, which she repeats: "These things I have recounted are the reasons why I was not disappointed when he did not arrive" (pg 53). I think this statement is less of a slap in the face to the audience because Tambu has walked us through just the beginning of her oppression.
And so I think in a similar way, the narrator of Things Fall Apart makes bold claims about Unoka that may jolt the audience at first and come off as harsh, but after the explanation, the audience may agree when the narrator repeats those claims.
I think it is important how both novels have this style: say-explain-say. I think it offers a parallelism in the story itself and gives it an innate structure. It is also very natural because it is similar to the style of oral folktale. But mostly, as a reader, I think it is captivating. The narrator gives you the point very boldy and you are determined to figure out why the narrator has made such a bold claim.
I am interested to see if this is a recurring stylistic theme in African literature.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Inside and Out
As a metaphor in regards to colonization, an eating disorder could represent the disintegration of the native’s self. An individual could rebel thru starvation: by not consuming on one’s native resources due to colonization giving control of these resources in the hands of strangers, they are not letting themselves become dominated. By not ingesting this subjugated food in the case of Ma’Shingayi, she is not allowing the subservience of her bodily control.
Another way of looking at eating disorders among Rhodesian women is that they have very little control over themselves with all their time and effort going towards their husband and children. Controlling one of the responsibilities handled by women, which is feeding the family, refusing to eat they could highlight how little concern is geared towards toward women. I actually feel that when the women leave the homestead as well as the mission, their disappearance is felt. However, when Maiguru leaves the mission “[i]f Babamukuru was unhappy about [it], he made a good job of concealing it” (174). So, even though this is a more radical decision, again there is no control over what will happen away from family and friends. It’s scary to most women. Starvation could be appealing because it puts more power into a woman’s hands and only she is able to lead towards a desired outcome.
Personally, I find that any theory as to what leads towards self-starvation to be a stretch or at least not consciously thought out. I don’t believe the characters are sitting there thinking of how others will directly react. It’s more of a passive resistance in a way and it is through discussions, such as this blog that really dredge up all the possibilities and speculations. In regards to Tambu, I don’t even think that she deeply contemplates as to why Nyasha and her mother are starving themselves. Yes, she does worry over their health, especially Nyasha’s mental state seen through one particular letter. I just don’t think it causes her to stop long enough to doubt her actions from furthering her education.
Maiguru vs. Lucia
I would like to touch on something we briefly discussed on Wednesday and that is how Maiguru and Lucia are different. Maiguru realizes the role that she is supposed to live out. She is supposed to be a family person, stay at home, and obey her husband. She has no intentions of interfering with Lucia's affairs or her husband's family problems. She seems, in the kitchen scene, to be a passive character; one the will not take charge. Compared to her, Lucia is a character that will stand up for herself and make others seem below her. When she marches into the living room, where the dare is taking place, she grabs hold of Takesure and makes him weak and helpless. Lucia shows her dominance. She will not allow any man to walk all over her. Lucia realizes that the power to be a woman is in her own hands, opposed to the other women in the novel who do not allow themselves to determine their own fate.
Nyasha: Hybrid Woman
The next morning she was calm, but she assured me it was an illusion, the eye of the storm. "There's a whole lot more,' she said. "I've tried to keep it in but it's powerful. It ought to be. There's nearly a century of it," she added, with a shadow of her wry grin. "But I'm afraid," she told me apologetically. "It upsets people. So I need to go somewhere where it's safe. You know what I mean? Somewhere where people won't mind."
This is truly a disturbing scene that didn't come as a surprise to me. Rather, the way that Nyasha articulated her thoughts were that of what made her condition extreme. She recognizes that this condition has been an ongoing battle for many women, but I would certainly think this alludes from the exposure of such experiences from time spent in England rather than Africa. The mores of African cultures, suggested by Babamukuru, says that to have a eating disorder (or to not eat all of what is on one's plate) is an system derogatory to women and disrespectful to their culture.
When Nyasha remarks to her mother, "I am not one of them but I'm not one of you," that very comment suggests that Nyasha represents those who are unable to identify themselves neither as Shona nor English, neither This or That. Rejected by both extremes, Nyasha cannot and will not assimilate. She mentions that assimilation causes one to "forget who [they] were, what [they] were, and why [they] were that." Seeking affirmation in her studies and her figure, the only things she feels and knows she has complete control over, it only becomes apparent why Nyasha seems like a perfect candidate to have this eating disorder. We become more (or maybe just myself) sympathetic to her character because this condition finally allows her to relinquish control by suggesting that it is, indeed, a European philosophy. This sense of self-induced wasting away symbolizes the struggles, issues, and burdens that eat away at all the women in the novel, as well as the men in some instances.
It's devastating that Nyasha's family members failed to see her as a hybrid woman influenced by a hybrid culture (Shona and English). Nyasha, however, articulates the most realistic portrayal of social and political circumstances that vocalizes this illness as a colonial condition. If this certain illness is, in fact, a colonial condition, it almost seems as if Dangarembga suggests that the only way colonialism can be cured is if Rhodesia wins its independence. With this triumph, it is then where Nyasha may heal completely. I question my own terming of what healing completely means. It is possible that I feel that Nyasha can finally possess something greater than just a control over her dietary circumstances, or could just mean that she finally feels like she's not an "in-between," and can either relate to Shona or English culture.
By being with these women and witnessing the losses and injustices from which they suffer, Tambu acknowledges the realities in her world but it takes more than acknowledgment to make way for what's beyond it.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Maiguru and Lucia
I wanted to further discuss what we talked about in class today concerning the relationship between Maiguru and Lucia. I found it interesting the way Lucia kept on trying to get Maiguru to support her. Even when Maiguru clearly states that she will not become involved in her husband's family affairs, Lucia continues to hold Maiguru in high regard even though she was surely hurt by the rejection. When I read the part where Maiguru decides to leave the kitchen and not interfere in family affairs, I assumed Lucia would quit being so nice to her. Yet, Lucia goes as far as to praise Maiguru in front of Babamukuru while the courtroom scene is going by saying: "Maiguru asleep in her bedroom is the only one with a sensible head on her shoulders. She knows better than to poke into what does not concern her." However, just a while ago, Lucia had been asking Maiguru for her support. I found it puzzling why Lucia would continue to persist on being friendly to Maiguru especially since Maiguru does not approve of Lucia. Tambu states in her observations that Maiguru "thought that Lucia ought to suffer the consequences of her fecund appetites." So, do any of you have any insight as to why Lucia behaves this way towards Maiguru? Does she truly admire Maiguru or is she trying to get on her good side for a reason?
Nyasha's Confusion
An eating disorder is mental, no matter what a woman is going through eating is something that can always be controlled. Ma’Shingayi's refusal to eat earlier in the novel is not the same as Nyasha's refusal to eat, however, they have the same underlying reason. What they eat and how much is something they can control. Ma’Shingayi feels as if everything has been taken away from her by Babamukuru and Maiguru, because she is saddened, eating is something she chooses not worry about. Nyasha, on the other hand, is constantly dealing with her identity; does she form to the European ways that she was engulfed in or does she resort back to her roots and abandon her new found education? The battle of finding the balance is a tough one for Nyasha, its something she cannot control, but her eating habits are. Education, or colonization, can absolutely trigger this disorder as well as the sexism that occurs. This is evident in Nyasha's life due to the fact that she became fully accustomed to the European lifestyle but was forced to come back to the culture that she was told to forsake in the first place so she could gain her "proper education". Who wouldn't be confused and feel as if they had no control over their own life. Tambu depicts this perfectly in the description of the bathroom. She is utterly disgusted with the bathroom only after living at the mission, the reader must then consider how Nyasha must feel after being in a completely different country for so long. Once Nyasha has tasted a bit of the sweet life in Europe, why on earth would she want to come back to the homestead. Refusal to eat is not the only path that these women could have taken to "rebel" against their culture, but in a world where women do not succeed, refusing food is the only way to not end up on the street or dead, it is the only bit of control that they have.
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