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Based on events that took place in Oyo, an ancient Yoruba city of Nigeria, in 1946, Wole Soyinka's powerful play concerns the intertwined lives of Elesin Oba, the king's chief horseman; his son, Olunde, now studying medicine in England; and Simon Pilkings, the colonial district officer. The king has died and Elesin, his chief horseman, is expected by law and custom to commit suicide and accompany his ruler to heaven. The stage is set for a dramatic climax when Pilkings learns of the ritual and decides to intervene and Elesin's son arrives home. "Soyinka both entertains and asks subtle questions about mass psychology, individual psychology, and universal human struggles of the will."鈥�Chicago Tribune
184 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1975
Soyinka has no patience for those who argue that works of art are most effective when they are clear, direct and didactic ... [He:] was unhappy with the romanticism, na茂vet茅, and idealization of the African image in classic African novels such as Camara Laye's The Dark Child. He understood the political imperative behind such works - namely, the desire by a whole generation of African writers to counter the European image of Africa - but was categorical in his belief that idealization was not a substitute for what he considered to be literary truth. However, in explaining why he had disavowed and attacked movements that celebrated African or black identity, Soyinka was keen to insist that he was not against the idea of the African world as such ... He wanted the African world ... to be taken for granted as a self-evident cultural experience. As far as Soyinka was concerned, the artist's commitment was not to a particular idea of Africa, a set of political or ideological commitments, but the self-apprehension of the African world.
ELESIN 听听听听听All you who stand before the spirit that dares
The opening of the last door of passage,
Dare to rid my going of regrets! My wish
Transcends the blotting out of thought
In one mere moment's tremor of the senses.
Do me credit. And do me honour.
I am girded for the route beyond
Burdens of waste and longing.
Then let me travel light. Let
Seed that will not serve the stomach
On the way remain behind. Let it take root
In the earth of my choice, in this earth
I leave behind.
PILKINGS 听听听听听You know the Prince is on a tour of the colonies don't you? Well, he docked in the capital only this morning but he is already at the Residency. He is going to grace the ball with his presence later tonight.
JANE 听听听听听Simon! Not really.
PILKINGS 听听听听听Yes he is. He's been invited to give away the prizes and he has agreed. You must admit old Engleton is the best Club Secretary we ever had. Quite quick off the mark that lad.
JANE 听听听听听But how thrilling.
Not I became the answering-name
Of the restless bird, that little one
Whom Death found nesting in the leaves
When whisper of his coming ran
Before him on the wind.
Not I has long abandoned home.
This same dawn I heard him twitter in the gods' abode.
Ah, companions of this living world
What a thing this is, that even those
We call immortal Should fear to die.
Life has an end. A life that will outlive
Fame and friendship begs another name.
What elder takes his tongue to his plate,
Licks it clean of every crumb? He will encounter
Silence when he calls on children to fulfill
The smallest errand ! Life is honour.
It ends when honour ends.
鈥淥f course you have also mastered the art of calling things by names which don't remotely describe them.鈥�
鈥淒on't forget I was attached to hospitals all the time. Hordes of your wounded passed through those wards. I spoke to them. I spent long evenings by their bedside while they spoke terrible truths of the realities of that war. I know now how history is made."
鈥淓ven a tear-veiled Eye preserves its function of sight.鈥�
But this young shoot has poured its sap into the parent stalk, and we know this is not the way of life. Our world is tumbling in the void of strangers, Elesin.
鈥淲hat can you offer him in place of his peace of mind, in place of the honour and veneration of his own people?
[...]they acquire the facile tag of 'clash of cultures', a prejudicial label [...] I find it necessary to caution the would-be producer of this play against a sadly familiar reductionist tendency, and to direct his vision instead to the far more difficult and risky task of eliciting the play's threnodic essence. - Wole Soyinka's Author's NoteWhat does "threnodic" mean? The word is related to "threnody," meaning "an ode, song, or speech of lamentation, especially for the dead." Soyinka wants the reader to not focus too much on the culture clash that happens between the British colonists and the locals in this Yoruba village, but instead pay attention to the play's overall message of death.