I just really don’t have any idea what to make of this novel. I understand what Dasani was trying to do, and I can even see consistencies in some places between Haterr and some of the other narrators that we have encountered so far, especially those of Soyinka and Joyce, but other than that, I can’t really comment, because, honestly, I was lost the entire way through this novel. There are a few important passages, I suppose, but it was so lost in the nonsensical relating that they either went over, or under, my head, I can’t decide which. I’d love to read some professional’s review of this book, both to help me understand what Desani is talking about, but also to see if I am alone in my lost-ness. I assume that someone must have taken something important out of all this, but I just don’t see it.
I will say that I enjoyed the point he makes about how life is contrast, because I think that’s something we all understand. There is no life without death, no victory without defeat, no love with pain, yadda yadda yadda, but if there are more gems such as these hidden in the ludicrous prose of Desani, I certainly did not find it.
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Maybe we’re putting to much importance on trying to understand the works of Joyce and Desani without seeing that part of experience of reading these works is being confused by them. Our confusion is intended because these two writers experiences with colonialism and with life in general, and their perceptions of the two, are confused. What is special about these novels is that while at times the allusions seem discriminatory towards those less schooled in the classics, at other times their are artistic strokes are far reaching and universal and this leaves the possibility for the interpretations of their works to be the same way.
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