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Celebrating six books I read in 2021

You don’t need reminding that 2021 was not a great year, but ever the Pollyanna I can pick out many great books that I read in the last 12 months. I offer you five posts about them, with a bonus sixth. When choosing these I noticed a bit of a historical theme. Enjoy!

One Fine Day by Mollie Panter Downes

This wonderful novel captures one glorious summer’s day in 1946, in southern England. The ‘long nightmare’ of the Second World War is over but everything is changed. This had direct relevance when I read and blogged about it in July; we were seeing the relaxation of restrictions and worry about the Covid pandemic. 

Laura and her family have been through separation, and now must manage the social and economic changes brought by the war to their world. During a summer’s afternoon she climbs up Barrow Down and finds hope and peace in the landscape below.

One Fine Day by Mollie Panter-Downes, first published in 1947, reissued as a Virago Modern Classic in 1985. 179pp

Red Ellen – The Novels of Ellen Wilkinson

Ellen Wilkinson has long been a hero of mine. She was one of the first female Labour MPs, and had a reputation as a ‘firebrand’, probably because of her red hair. Most memorably, she was MP for Jarrow at the time of the famous hunger march (1936). You can find photographs of her leading it: a small figure in comparison to other marchers. 

I enjoyed reading her two novels. Clash (1932) is set during the General Strike of 1926; it captures the heady excitement and drama of political activism.

The Division Bell Mystery is a whodunnit set in the Palace of Westminster, written while she was temporarily out of parliament.

Clash by Ellen Wilkinson, published in 1932. It was reissued in the Virago Modern Classics series in 1989. 309pp

The Division Bell Mystery by Ellen Wilkinson, first published in 1932 and reissued in 2018 in the British Library Crime Classics series. 254pp

You can find the post about Ellen Wilkinson’s novels here.

The Shadow King by Maaza Mengiste

I loved reading this book for all the reasons that fiction is so powerful: it takes you to new places and shows you the world in a new light. I have been to Ethiopia, where this novel is set. The history of the war against the invading Italians is not fiction. But Maaza Mengiste has fictionalised the events, revealing some of the brutality of the failed Italian colonial exercise.

It’s vivid in its retelling of the unequal struggle. The main character is Hirut, an ignorant young girl at the start of the novel, but a proud bodyguard of the Shadow King during the struggle. And this novel is very poignant given the troubles that erupted in Tigray province in November 2020 and have worsened this year.

The Shadow King by Maaza Mengiste published in 2019 by Canongate. 429pp. Shortlisted for 2020 Booker Prize

Beloved by Toni Morrison

I had read this novel before, but in the light of Black Lives Matter and all that has been happening recently in the United States relevant to racism, and in the UK, it seemed to be the right time to reread it. I was struck by the strength of this book in demonstrating the reverberations of evil that spread out from the enslavement of Africans and the trading of enslaved people across the Atlantic. Toni Morrison describes the book as inviting the reader ‘to pitch a tent in a cemetery inhabited by highly vocal ghosts’. 

Beloved by Toni Morrison, first published in 1987. I used the Vintage edition published in 2010. 324pp

Refugee Tales IV Edited by David Herd & Anna Pincus

As the title suggests, this is the 4th book in a series. I have read and reviewed them all. I have walked with Refugee Tales. I found myself reading this collection with a mounting sense of outrage. ‘How can we still be here, after 70 years?’ I asked on Bookword Blog. In particular how can we still be detaining people seeking refuge in our country, and detaining them indefinitely. I remain outraged. The stories told in Refugee Tales are not easy and remind us of the human tragedies that are produced by world events.

I was grateful to the Gatwick Detainees Welfare Group Autumn newsletter for reprinting my post. Please do not be silent on this issue.

Refugee Tales IV Edited by David Herd & Anna Pincus published in 2021, by Comma Press. 161pp

More Gallimaufry by the Totnes Library Writers Group

This is the bonus book I mentioned at the top of this piece. For me, much of 2021 has been spent in co-editing a collection of writing by my local writing group. We emerged from lockdowns with a determination to produce our second collection of writing. We have done it and the book is an object of pride, especially to the 21 contributors. I wrote about editing it in the post called More Gallimaufry: another achievement for the writing group

It would take a great deal to limit my reading, whatever the pandemic lands us with. I am looking forward to more in 2022: more Elizabeth Strout, more women in translation, more older women, and more set in the 1940s. I might even get to more writing next year.

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The Shadow King by Maaza Mengiste

This book bowled me over. We chose it for the January meeting of our book group, and the next day I found it on the shelf at our new (yes NEW) bookshop, and began reading it immediately. The Shadow King tells a great story, especially of the women warriors who fought against Mussolini’s invasion of Abyssinia in 1935. Because I have visited Ethiopia and because the history of the first half of the twentieth century absorbs me I was predisposed to like this book. 

What I found was a novel, worthy of the shortlist for the 2020 Booker Prize, and all the critical acclaim it has garnered. In addition it is written by a woman of colour from Ethiopia. 

The Shadow King

The Shadow King tells a very good story, and all the better for being based in truth. It has some very appealing elements: such as the ultimate success of the underdogs. When Mussolini invaded, a latecomer to the European scramble to colonise Africa, he brought his mechanised army to defeat the Ethiopians. The Ethiopians had very little with which to prevent the invasion. They did have the memory of the successful campaign against the previous Italian invasion in the 1890s, as the weapons retained from that struggle. They also had a determination not to be conquered, inspired by their Emperor Haile Selassie. And they knew the terrain, and how to work with the people who lived there. 

The story begins in a very small and restricted setting. Hirut is a young girl, an orphan, who has been taken in by Kidane, who owed her parents. She lives in a tiny shed with the cook, and under the watchful and jealous eye of Aster, Kidane’s wife. 

Hirut hears Aster shouting her name, calling for her in a voice threatening to break from strain. Hirut looks up from the slow burning fire she is tending in a corner of the courtyard. She is hunched into a stool, next to a pile of onions waiting to be peeled. The cook is behind her in the kitchen, chopping meat for the evening meal. Aster should be drinking coffee in bed, tucked inside a soft blanket, perhaps looking out the window and gazing at her flowers. This should be a quiet morning. Hirut stiffens at the intrusion. (11)

The quiet morning is interrupted by more than Aster’s slightly deranged attempts to implicate Hirut in the theft of a missing necklace when Kidane returns from recruiting troops. He takes an old rifle from Hirut, the only thing she has from her father, because the Emperor needs all the weapons he can get. And we can see that her life, Aster’s, Kidane’s and even the cook’s will be upended and broadened by the campaign to drive back the Italians. 

Aster and Hirut join Kidane’s army to support their men by caring for the wounded and providing food. When things go badly and the Emperor leaves Ethiopia for exile in Bath, it is Hirut who suggests a way to provide the people with the inspiration of a shadow king. Hirut and Aster become his bodyguards and when needed take up arms with other women to fight the Italians. 

The story also is told from the point of view of a photographer in the Italian army. His commanding officer is known for his ferocity, and his cruelty is shown to the reader early in the story. But Ettore is Jewish and as anti-Semitism is promoted in Italy he becomes more and more detached from the official view and the actions of his commander, while powerless to refuse commands.

The climax of the story comes when Fucelli has captured Hirut and Aster, and waits for Kidane’s army to come to rescue them.

At times the novel is hard to read because of the atrocities committed. No one who survives comes out of the war without damage. Everyone has had to compromise themselves.

The telling of the story

While Hirut is the central character and the person we see gradually changing from that insignificant servant girl into a strong warrior, we also see the war from the perspectives of other people. What is clear is that the opposing sides have little understanding of each other. Here is Ettore looking at Hirut, who is in prison and refusing to respond to her captors.

That he has not managed to see more than a resolute and stubborn girl is proof of the Ethiopian native’s unfamiliarity with all that he finds commonplace. She has no reference points that intersect with his: no myths or fables, no ideas on science or philosophy. She is unlearned and unschooled, illiterate and limited. Unknowing and thus, unknowable. She lacks the imaginative capacity to consider an existence beyond her frames of reference: these mountains, her village, the hut where she was born. What rests behind that face and in that mind are sturdy, thick thoughts of survival and routine, and nothing else. (339)

Hirut has been stubbornly refusing to respond to Ettore, or any of the soldiers. She has been studying the enemy’s routines and waiting for signs of the rescue. She has her pride too.

Because this is one thing that neither the ascari [African soldiers in the Italian army] nor Fucelli nor this stupid soldato staring at her with a gaping mouth will ever know: she is Hirut, daughter of Fasil and Gerey, feared guard of the Shadow King, and she is no longer afraid of what men can do to women like her. (338) 

Many scenes are framed by the photographer, and in the final battle by a film crew. This device, showing us photographs, describing the way the light falls, what Ettore captured in his images, is powerful way of telling of the story. It reminds us of the fascist dictators’ love of images. But it also has the effect of putting a distance between us and the most difficult passages. Two photographs bookend the text, but while they are both of women it is not clear why they were chosen. The narrative based in Ethiopia is interrupted every now and again by sections on his meditations on leaving his country. The only section that I found jarring was a long vision by Haile Selassie towards the end of the novel.

For the most part, Maaza Mengiste’s narrative is skilful and even lyrical. Her prose has rhythm and pace, even littered with Amharic and Italian words. She manages to convey what matters to the characters, the stories of the Ethiopian characters, the conflicts of Ettore and even Fucelli’s fears. These are people living through the upheavals of the 1930s. 

The plotlines wind around each other, and details are revealed, small actions and major battles without reducing the tension: the action of spies, the cook, the ascari, Haile Selassie in exile, and Hirut’s part in the armed struggle. The themes are played out at an individual level, Hirut and Ettore, but also at macro level: Italy vs Ethiopia, evil against humaneness.

Maaza Mengiste  

The author published her first novel Beneath the Lion’s Gaze in 2010. She was born in Addis Ababa in 1974, but has lived most of her life outside Ethiopia, and now teaches in New York. Her own grandmothers were involved in the war and her researches were extensive as she revealed in this podcast from History Extra (link here. )

The Shadow King by Maaza Mengiste published in 2019 by Canongate. 429pp

Shortlisted for 2020 Booker Prize

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