Kibogo

Kibogo, the novel, is a beguiling tale illustrating the beginnings of folktales and myth which is written in such a way as to evoke those historic tales themselves. I could easily envisage listening to a storyteller recount Scholastique Mukasonga's words and, although I don't think that Kibogo is available as an audiobook, I feel that this would be its perfect format. Set around the time of the Second World War, forced labour for the war effort sees the hillside left bereft of its men and children and a subsequent drought causes famine. Villagers remember the story of Kibogo, a prince who sacrificed himself to summon the rains long before and they pray to him again. But this runs counter to the Catholic priests insistence on Jesus, Yezu, and his mother, Maria, being the only saviours the village needs. There are striking similarities though between the stories of Kibogo and of Yezu.

I loved how Mukasonga weaves her separate tales together. Sometimes Kibogo felt like a series of linked short stories, yet it overarching narrative brings everything together into a seamless novel. While Kibogo's story was (probably) mythology, we see the later story of Rwandan trainee priest, Akayezu, as it happens and also as it too begins to drift into folklore and myth. The villagers' need to keep their own stories secret from the European priests only helps to add to their whispered appeal so, details are forgotten or embellished and the two tales - that of Kibogo and that of Akayezu - become even more firmly entrenched. I thought it as much a lesson in the ultimate futility of attempting to stamp one culture over another as of our perpetual desire to reinforce our identities through the stories we tell about ourselves and our origins. Mukasonga writes with a sharp eye for human absurdities and motivations making Kibogo an entertainingly funny book, albeit one with a serious and poignant heart.

A connected series of stories translated from the French by Mark Polizzotti. The stories take place in Rwanda in roughly the era of World War II (at which time the country was ruled by Belgium as a colony). White missionaries and anthropologists make appearances at critical moments in the stories, but for the most part we are left with the interactions of the Rwandans themselves as they tell stories about their past, argue over details, and reflect on these past stories' current meaning. Most of these stories revolve around religious belief: should people depend upon their traditional beliefs, or adopt the Christian practices pressed upon them by insistent missionaries and adopted by their traditional rulers?

Most fascinating to me was the book's reflection on oral tradition. Makusonga digs into the conflicting priorities for narrators, their competitiveness, desire to please, arguing over details, different motivations, and so on. She is not afraid to make your head spin or slam on the brakes; after one particular tale she writes "But maybe things didn't always go as badly as all that. There has always been spiteful gossip on the hills, and no one could say for sure" what had happened (page 49). It is a wonderful reminder of the complexity of oral history, and Makusonga's storytelling captures this complexity perfectly.