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The Eternal Audience of One
This coming-of-age tale follows a young man who is forced to flee his homeland of Rwanda during the Civil War and make sense of his reality.
Nobody ever makes it to the start of a story, not even the people in it. The most one can do is make some sort of start and then work toward some kind of ending.
One might as well start with Séraphin: playlist-maker, nerd-jock hybrid, self-appointed merchant of cool, Rwandan, stifled and living in Windhoek, Namibia. Soon he will leave the confines of his family life for the cosmopolitan city of Cape Town, in South Africa, where loyal friends, hormone-saturated parties, adventurous conquests, and race controversies await. More than that, his long-awaited final year in law school promises to deliver a crucial puzzle piece of the Great Plan immigrant: a degree from a prestigious university.
But a year is more than the sum of its parts, and en route to the future, the present must be lived through and even the past must be survived.
Nobody ever makes it to the start of a story, not even the people in it. The most one can do is make some sort of start and then work toward some kind of ending.
One might as well start with Séraphin: playlist-maker, nerd-jock hybrid, self-appointed merchant of cool, Rwandan, stifled and living in Windhoek, Namibia. Soon he will leave the confines of his family life for the cosmopolitan city of Cape Town, in South Africa, where loyal friends, hormone-saturated parties, adventurous conquests, and race controversies await. More than that, his long-awaited final year in law school promises to deliver a crucial puzzle piece of the Great Plan immigrant: a degree from a prestigious university.
But a year is more than the sum of its parts, and en route to the future, the present must be lived through and even the past must be survived.
384 pages, Hardcover
First published July 19, 2019
70 people are currently reading
13.3k people want to read
About the author
Rémy Ngamije
7books151followersRémy Ngamije is a Rwandan-born Namibian author, editor, publisher, photographer, literary educator, and entrepreneur. His debut novel The Eternal Audience Of One was first published in South Africa by Blackbird Books and is available worldwide from Scout Press (S&S). In 2022 it was honoured with a Special Mention at the inaugural Grand Prix Panafricain De Litterature and won the inaugural African Literary Award from the Museum of the African Diaspora.
Only Stars Know The Meaning Of Space, his collection of award-winning fiction, will be published in December, 2024 by Scout Press (S&S).
He won the Africa Regional Prize of the 2021 Commonwealth Short Story Prize and was shortlisted for the AKO Caine Prize for African Writing in 2021 and 2020. He was longlisted and shortlisted for the 2020 and 2021 Afritondo Short Story Prizes respectively. In 2019 he was shortlisted for Best Original Fiction by Stack Magazines.
Rémy is the founder and chairperson of Doek, an independent arts organisation in Namibia supporting the literary arts and the editor-in-chief of Doek! Literary Magazine, Namibia’s first and only literary magazine. He is also the founder and director of several literary initiatives such as the Bank Windhoek Doek Literary Awards, the Doek Literary Festival, and the Doek Anthology.
He has served as a judge of the Kalemba, Kendeka, Plaza, and Commonwealth short story prizes.
He is represented by Cecile Barendsma of the Cecile B Literary Agency.
Only Stars Know The Meaning Of Space, his collection of award-winning fiction, will be published in December, 2024 by Scout Press (S&S).
He won the Africa Regional Prize of the 2021 Commonwealth Short Story Prize and was shortlisted for the AKO Caine Prize for African Writing in 2021 and 2020. He was longlisted and shortlisted for the 2020 and 2021 Afritondo Short Story Prizes respectively. In 2019 he was shortlisted for Best Original Fiction by Stack Magazines.
Rémy is the founder and chairperson of Doek, an independent arts organisation in Namibia supporting the literary arts and the editor-in-chief of Doek! Literary Magazine, Namibia’s first and only literary magazine. He is also the founder and director of several literary initiatives such as the Bank Windhoek Doek Literary Awards, the Doek Literary Festival, and the Doek Anthology.
He has served as a judge of the Kalemba, Kendeka, Plaza, and Commonwealth short story prizes.
He is represented by Cecile Barendsma of the Cecile B Literary Agency.
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January 11, 2024
Ahhhhh. New favorite book alert! I waited so long for this moment and it's finally here. I have discovered a new favorite book of all time. The Eternal Audience of One means so friggin' much to me. Objectively, it's far from perfect, but it is the perfect book for me right now. It came to me at the right time in my life, I resonate with so many of the issues that are brought up in it, I connect to so many of its characters, I was so taken by what Rémy had to say. I laughed and laughed. Seriously, I don't think you can comprehend how fucking funny Rémy is (e.g. before his final law exam, Séraphin says: "Im about to Legally Blonde this bitch." and I about died). And I cried and cried because I feel Séraphin's pain. And I gasped, audibly. Many times. Because I was in this story. I felt it. Every moment, every second. Every fight, every argument, every micro- and macroaggression endured, every single thing.
I read many great books this year. In January, I became obsessed with Homer's Iliad. Hector will forever be one of my all-time favorite literary characters. In March, I discovered my love and reverence for Wolfgang Herrndorf, a German author who took his own life three years after his hopeless battle against cancer. His journals, Arbeit und Struktur, moved me beyond measure. In April, I rediscovered the novel he wrote during his last years, Tschick, and it became a new favorite: "Man kann zwar nicht ewig die Luft anhalten. Aber doch ziemlich lange." The book's ending, this final quote, will forever remain in my heart. But The Eternal Audience of One is in a league of its own. Rémy has written his way into my heart in a way only few authors have in the past. I want to read everything he ever wrote (thus far, he has only published a few short stories) and everything he will write in the future (seems like he isn't working on a new novel at the moment, woe is me). This book made me feel seen and understood. It made me so friggin' happy. It made me so friggin' sad. But I'm repeating myself. Let's get into this thang!
Séraphin Turihamwe, the books's main characters, moves from Kigali to Nairobi then Windhoek to Cape Town and back to Windhoek again. We bear witness to how Séraphin and his family escape the brutality of the Rwandan genocide to settle for a short while in Kenya before finally attempting to make a new home for themselves in Namibia. We understand why Séraphin feels confined through his family and their new-found hime. We understand his desire to move and study in a big(ger) city. And so we become spectators as Séraphin barrels through his university days in South Africa. Through flashbacks, we also get glimpses into the journey of his parents whose studies took them to Brussels and Paris, the latter being the place where they met and fell in love. Later in the novel it is also revealed that Guillaume, Séraphin's father, is bisexual and was in a relationship with another Black man in Paris. Representation like this (i.e. older African men being bisexual) is rare in fiction, and all the more precious. At one point Guillaume's lover says to him: "I ain't got time for white imagination, only black realities." And that about sums up Rémy's approach when it comes to writing this novel. He depicts Black realities, in all of their shapes and forms.
While much of the action happens in places other than Windhoek, particularly Cape Town, the Namibian capital still is the book's primary setting. In an interview, Rémy revealed that he wondered if audiences would find it a bit too "out there" to read a story set in Windhoek, yet he found comfort in the novelty of writing about a place that isn't explored enough in literature. And that's a win all-around. Rémy manages to make Windhoek come to life, also for readers, like myself, who've never been and probably never will experience the hustle and bustle of this particular city first hand. Séraphin calls Windhoek "a capital village". In his beautifully snarky and irreverent voice, he unpacks everything from Windhoek's weather patterns ("hot, mosquito and fucking cold") to its socioeconomic inequalities ("If you're not politically connected or come from old white money, then the best thing is to be a tourist"). He concludes that the "city is called a city because the country needs one, but really, city is a big word for such a small place". Perfect, that's all I need to know. There's so much packed into these few sentences. I love it!
Séraphin's retelling of moving to Cape Town to attend university also feels intensely close. It's the story of moving to a city that forms and schools you in adulthood in the best and worst ways. The narrative is filled with exuberant and libido-fuelled antics � some of which veered below the line of sexism that I can tolerate in a novel, e.g. Séraphin's descriptions of his love interest Jasmyn: "Her breasts matched her grade average: C-cups that have A-plus ratings in memory even to this day. They bounced with healthy vigour in hockey matches..." It becomes clear that Séraphin as a male student with a scholarship is in a very privileged position. Yet at the same time, Rémy doesn't fail to explore the everyday and systemic racism and classism that determine Séraphin's life. Whether it's on the streets, in the taxis, in the homes or on the dance floors of this tourist trap, there's no escaping it.
He envied all of them [the white law students] and the way the law ran in their families how easily it bestowed marks upon them, and how they could address their professors on a first-name basis. They were going to graduate, guaranteed to have their pick of law firms. Their paths were clear. All they had to do was walk them.
The Eternal Audience of One explores inequality, class and socioeconomic circumstances, calling those who fall inside comfortable class brackets "have-Africans" � a riff on the "haves" and the "have-nots". Rémy isn't the first to explore these issues but he does it in such an original and fun way, it's truly a breath of fresh air. Rémy doesn't want us to pity Séraphin. He simply wants us to acknowledge things as they are, and become witnesses to how Séraphin and his friends navigate their circumstances, often with humor themselves. It's brilliant.
Life is not hard in Windhoek, but it isn't easy either. The poor are either falling behind or falling pregnant. The rich refuse to send the elevator back down when they reach the top. And since cities require a sturdy foundation of tolerated inequalities, Windhoek is like many other big places in the world. It is a haven for more but a place of less.
This book is an honest, funny and often searing interrogation of home. Both the ordinary or light-hearted everyday exchanges in Séraphin's family and the grit-your-teeth encounters. Besties, when I tell you there's a fight scene in this book between Séraphin and one of his white friends, whew, chile, strap yo seatbelts in, because you're in for a wild ride. I was literally gripping my bedsheets and clawing at my nails. It is INTENSE.
"Only immigrants will understand the ability of a community to graciously treat enemies like friends and, at all times, to cling together even with the possible threat of drowning. Disappointments are swallowed because no disappointment can be as large as leaving or losing home. Everyone has to stick together. Even the snake. Even the sly. Everyone is part of the family. And everyone has to be survived."
Rémy's writing is beautiful, his observations original and precise, his sense of place unsurpassed. I'm so upset that this book is over and that I will never be able to read it for the first time again. I will love it forever. 10/10 would do it all again.
I read many great books this year. In January, I became obsessed with Homer's Iliad. Hector will forever be one of my all-time favorite literary characters. In March, I discovered my love and reverence for Wolfgang Herrndorf, a German author who took his own life three years after his hopeless battle against cancer. His journals, Arbeit und Struktur, moved me beyond measure. In April, I rediscovered the novel he wrote during his last years, Tschick, and it became a new favorite: "Man kann zwar nicht ewig die Luft anhalten. Aber doch ziemlich lange." The book's ending, this final quote, will forever remain in my heart. But The Eternal Audience of One is in a league of its own. Rémy has written his way into my heart in a way only few authors have in the past. I want to read everything he ever wrote (thus far, he has only published a few short stories) and everything he will write in the future (seems like he isn't working on a new novel at the moment, woe is me). This book made me feel seen and understood. It made me so friggin' happy. It made me so friggin' sad. But I'm repeating myself. Let's get into this thang!
“Yes, Father. I should not commit the same sins I committed last week.�The Eternal Audience of One is a story of moment. In an epic spanning just over 500 pages and six countries, Rémy takes us on a journey concerning family, friendship, education and migration. What makes this story of migration so special is the fact that it upends the most prevalent stereotype/trope of migrant literature: Rémy's story doesn't revolve around an African MC who migrates to Europe or the US; instead, it destabilises that common narrative by focusing on an African that migrates from East Africa to southern Africa.Rémy shows us that the experience and concept of migration is far more expansive than the narrow passage from the Global South to the Global North. And that's damn valuable.
“GǴǻ.Ũ�
“I will commit new ones.�
Séraphin Turihamwe, the books's main characters, moves from Kigali to Nairobi then Windhoek to Cape Town and back to Windhoek again. We bear witness to how Séraphin and his family escape the brutality of the Rwandan genocide to settle for a short while in Kenya before finally attempting to make a new home for themselves in Namibia. We understand why Séraphin feels confined through his family and their new-found hime. We understand his desire to move and study in a big(ger) city. And so we become spectators as Séraphin barrels through his university days in South Africa. Through flashbacks, we also get glimpses into the journey of his parents whose studies took them to Brussels and Paris, the latter being the place where they met and fell in love. Later in the novel it is also revealed that Guillaume, Séraphin's father, is bisexual and was in a relationship with another Black man in Paris. Representation like this (i.e. older African men being bisexual) is rare in fiction, and all the more precious. At one point Guillaume's lover says to him: "I ain't got time for white imagination, only black realities." And that about sums up Rémy's approach when it comes to writing this novel. He depicts Black realities, in all of their shapes and forms.
While much of the action happens in places other than Windhoek, particularly Cape Town, the Namibian capital still is the book's primary setting. In an interview, Rémy revealed that he wondered if audiences would find it a bit too "out there" to read a story set in Windhoek, yet he found comfort in the novelty of writing about a place that isn't explored enough in literature. And that's a win all-around. Rémy manages to make Windhoek come to life, also for readers, like myself, who've never been and probably never will experience the hustle and bustle of this particular city first hand. Séraphin calls Windhoek "a capital village". In his beautifully snarky and irreverent voice, he unpacks everything from Windhoek's weather patterns ("hot, mosquito and fucking cold") to its socioeconomic inequalities ("If you're not politically connected or come from old white money, then the best thing is to be a tourist"). He concludes that the "city is called a city because the country needs one, but really, city is a big word for such a small place". Perfect, that's all I need to know. There's so much packed into these few sentences. I love it!
Séraphin's retelling of moving to Cape Town to attend university also feels intensely close. It's the story of moving to a city that forms and schools you in adulthood in the best and worst ways. The narrative is filled with exuberant and libido-fuelled antics � some of which veered below the line of sexism that I can tolerate in a novel, e.g. Séraphin's descriptions of his love interest Jasmyn: "Her breasts matched her grade average: C-cups that have A-plus ratings in memory even to this day. They bounced with healthy vigour in hockey matches..." It becomes clear that Séraphin as a male student with a scholarship is in a very privileged position. Yet at the same time, Rémy doesn't fail to explore the everyday and systemic racism and classism that determine Séraphin's life. Whether it's on the streets, in the taxis, in the homes or on the dance floors of this tourist trap, there's no escaping it.
He envied all of them [the white law students] and the way the law ran in their families how easily it bestowed marks upon them, and how they could address their professors on a first-name basis. They were going to graduate, guaranteed to have their pick of law firms. Their paths were clear. All they had to do was walk them.
The Eternal Audience of One explores inequality, class and socioeconomic circumstances, calling those who fall inside comfortable class brackets "have-Africans" � a riff on the "haves" and the "have-nots". Rémy isn't the first to explore these issues but he does it in such an original and fun way, it's truly a breath of fresh air. Rémy doesn't want us to pity Séraphin. He simply wants us to acknowledge things as they are, and become witnesses to how Séraphin and his friends navigate their circumstances, often with humor themselves. It's brilliant.
Life is not hard in Windhoek, but it isn't easy either. The poor are either falling behind or falling pregnant. The rich refuse to send the elevator back down when they reach the top. And since cities require a sturdy foundation of tolerated inequalities, Windhoek is like many other big places in the world. It is a haven for more but a place of less.
This book is an honest, funny and often searing interrogation of home. Both the ordinary or light-hearted everyday exchanges in Séraphin's family and the grit-your-teeth encounters. Besties, when I tell you there's a fight scene in this book between Séraphin and one of his white friends, whew, chile, strap yo seatbelts in, because you're in for a wild ride. I was literally gripping my bedsheets and clawing at my nails. It is INTENSE.
“Of all the black guys.�Despite the cultural specificity (I loved the effortless incorporation of French and Kinyarwanda into the narrative), many readers will recognize the intergenerational conflicts and warring emotions at the center of this bildungsroman. Séraphin feels guilty about his ambivalence toward his family, wondering if "his desire to be distant from [them] marked him as an ungrateful son." His sense of identity and his place in his family and future are all up in the air. What he knows "for certain, though, was how easy he breathed as soon as his family was behind him, when the adventure and uncertainty of Cape Town lay ahead."
“Rich,� Séraphin said, “you need to get your white boy.�
“I have a name,� Andrew said turning to face Séraphin once more.
“And I’ll use it when you start manifesting individual personality,� said Séraphin.
Andrew threw himself at Séraphin.
Home, to him, was a constant source of stress, a place of conformity, foreign family roots trying to burrow into arid Namibian soil which failed to nourish him.Rémy brilliantly explores the irony and paradoxes in Séraphin's identities. He's a displaced Rwandan who feels most himself in Cape Town, South Africa, a place that doesn't welcome Black immigrants. He's also soon to be a graduate of law school but doesn't want to practice law. His entire life has been a compromise. One of my favorite scenes in the entire novel is the family gathering at which Séraphin feels immense pressure to reassure not only his parents but also all their relatives that he will practice as a lawyer after finishing a degree, something he knows is a lie. And his mother knows it's a lie but needs her son to lie to their relatives to keep up appearances. She looks at him, her eyes asking "Turihamwe?", which is Séraphin's name but also means "Are we together, Séraphin? We are together or we are not. If we are not together, then you are alone. Are you ready to be alone? Do you even know what that means, Séraphin, to be alone? How brightly you burn, Séraphin, but for whom do you shine?� Turihamwe?" It's a powerful scene that brought tears to my eyes. Séraphin needs his family as much as they need him. But what they need him to be he cannot be. Growing up is coping with these disappointments. I felt Séraphin's pressure, the weight of all these expectations, not wanting to disappoint the people who have sacrificed so much for you, knowing that their idea of success is suffocating you. It's a lot. It's a feeling many people after familiar with. It's a feeling and atmosphere Rémy captures extremely well.
"Only immigrants will understand the ability of a community to graciously treat enemies like friends and, at all times, to cling together even with the possible threat of drowning. Disappointments are swallowed because no disappointment can be as large as leaving or losing home. Everyone has to stick together. Even the snake. Even the sly. Everyone is part of the family. And everyone has to be survived."
Rémy's writing is beautiful, his observations original and precise, his sense of place unsurpassed. I'm so upset that this book is over and that I will never be able to read it for the first time again. I will love it forever. 10/10 would do it all again.
October 21, 2021
READ THIS IN LIT HUB!
Real Rating: 4.5* of five, rounded up because this is a début!! what are we in for next?!
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.
My Review: What do you get from a wisecracking young African novelist when you turn him loose with a contract? A novel of the prices exacted by immigration on the emigrated persons, be that emigration voluntary or enforced, cannot help but run into the problem of "why am I here again?" for its fat, complacent first-world-native readers. The usual answer is, "where else would you like to be?" Author Ngamjie writes sentences like this:
The only certainty is this: everything that is not the end must be the start of something else.
Séra says that his mother said it first; I believe him. I believe whatever Author Ngamije says, actually. I have already said nice things about Author Ngamjie's writing when I discussed The Neighbourhood for last year's Caine Prize reviews. He's deployed a lot more of his snappy humor here (a bed so narrow it should have a singles-site profile, East African parents outdoing the Spanish Inquisition in the barbarity of their interrogation, "FOMO, the acronym of doom," a vile w-bomb at 47% being self-described as a "salacious nictation"...though that didn't prevent him from using it three more times), having so much more room to make the case for laughs. Laughs you'll get, for absolute sure and certain. When Therése and Séra meet at a less-than-opportune moment, for example. If you fail to fall about screaming with laughter at how Author Ngamjie structures that scene, then you are deficient.
And there is a great deal of uncertainty in the happiness of the parents in this story. There are no swift and sure answers to the eternal eyeroll of the offspring. A stern reminder, however, that your parents didn't become parents without having some kinda past together is fully served in several chapters. The set-up for them being together, a party attended in Paris, is...incomplete at first telling. It seems there was a lot more to being young in that day and time...well. Usually there was some, um, carnal dimension to their partnering up for parenthood:
His torso occupied every inch of his shirt, and his maroon bell-bottom jeans accentuated a prim pair of buttocks and strong thighs.
He was dressed to pull, for sure! And Therése was very much there to be pulled...well, that is half the story, and the other half was told, so you'll find it when you get to it. But the parenting years came next. A thankless task, that, and made more difficult by the implosion of their country. Several flashbacks to that time are all from Séra's child-vision. It's very effective, and still manages to evoke from the adult reader the fear and the determination of the parents to protect their kids. And then they spent the entire rest of their lives ensuring you'd have it better than they do, Séra. So what does he do with his uni life in Cape Town? What all of us did! Party! Make a group of like-minded friends, find something to rag on the world about...the usual twentysomething life. Author Ngamije says smart, funny things in a smartass way, just like Séraphin himself. He's got a helluva mouth on him, does Séra, and he's not afraid to use it.
...{I}f nobody ever makes it to the start of a story, and if everyone is in the same boat just bailing and steering as best they can, then I guess the whole point of life is to make some sort of a start and then work towards some kind of ending, whenever and wherever it might be. Part plagiarism will permit to agree with Shakespeare: "All the world's a staage..." upon which we perform for the eternal audience of one. ... I guess, then, that the point of life is to dive in, hold on, and hope that a flop...is worth the laugh at the very end.
–aԻ�
"She actually likes black people," Séraphin said. "And it isn't because she's traveled a lot. Slavers traveled too and look where that got us."
–aԻ�
"I have a better chance of being Pablo Escobar than being Pablo Neruda."
"You and drug dealers." {She} laughed. "Not a fan of poetry, then?"
"I approach poetry like other people's dogs. With great caution."
The entire group of friends stay hooked in to their affection for each other, such as it is, and they overlook the usual tensions in any group setting...the odd man out, the tolerated-but-unloved, the group boss with the plans everyone goes along with because it's easier than fighting and better than anyone else's ideas anyway. The flirting, the hookups...the breakups and dumpings...it's all there, exactly where it should be, told in texts instead of long calls and short meetings.
There is, of course, the requisite older woman in Séraphin's résumé, and she speaks a truth to him: "There is a point when actions become promises," that I truly wish I knew how to embroider so I could make a pillow-cover out of. I am also moved by immigrant Séra meditating on forgiveness being meaningless without remembering the thing being forgiven. It is a truth I learned much later in my life than he was forced to, but a severely underrated one in the general conversation we as a society should be having with more seriousness than we seem to be doing.
The lighthearted moments, let me hasten to say now, are quite prevalent in the book. More time laughing is spent than Other Things. Don't mistake this for some gloomy, first-novel-MFA-program navel-gazing! You'll know for sure that you're in good, capable hands, that this is a cocktail party you can't quite imagine how you got invited to and not Thanksgiving with your in-laws.
That is also, of course, apparent in some less joy-giving ways. The function of Séraphin's Great Council of Séraphins is clearly to make you aware that you've shifted to the inner workings of the lad's head; the problem is, for this seasoned reader, it was overused. Two or three times would've been effective...many more and it becomes Ben Stiller's 2013 remake of Danny Kaye's 1947 comedic classic The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. As much fun as recalling the original was for the first twenty minutes, seeing the shots recreated...well...it got old.
The fragmented construction of the story will put some readers off. The flashbacks aren't slowing the story down, I will protest, they are giving it traction! But many will disagree with me, I fear. Structuring a story in an anti-chronological way does indeed allow us to feel, instead of see, the action as the characters do. It does also require of us that we pay attention to what's underlying the surface story of an immigrant leaving home to leave home to learn how to return home to make a home. It's really just that simple...Thomas Wolfe did it, y'all all lapped it up. Ride the waves, don't shove your feet into them. (Have I ever mentioned that my Young Gentleman Caller is a surfer?)
There is a time in a character's arc that the wise mentor offers a personal story that illuminates a Greater Truth that Our Hero needs to hear. That time came, it lingered a bit too long for comfort, and then it was over. That was, actually, a good thing, because the purpose of it was a deeper one than was expected. The way it happens, the moment it comes, are a little bit deceptive, so kudos to Author Ngamije for that misdirection. I like not knowing everything!
But the classic misdirection, well. Remember how you found out your parent was a person before you were born? Remember the moment you learned what they least wanted you to know but you needed to hear? That moment is a beaut in this book, one of those "...I didn't know you had it in you..." times that come to all adult children. I loved it, and if you're the reader I hope you are for reading my reviews, you'll carry on to the very end for the reward you're offered.
"All arguments can be fixed. Circumstances, not so much."
Formerly tall father stood next to tall son.
"You have to decide whether you want to be right or whether you want to be happy. It is a simple choice."
It may be simple...it is simple...but it is never easy.
July 19, 2021
This is one of those odd books I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Great writing, lots of clever one liners, interesting characters. But it also seemed to just meander at times. It’s told in a nonlinear style so it doesn’t always flow smoothly.
Seraphin is in his final year of law school in Cape Town. He landed in law school, not because of any desire, but because what else could he do with an English degree? His Rwandan family was forced to flee during the civil war and landed in Namibia. As “foreigners� they are given fewer opportunities and expected to do more to even keep their jobs. The parents put a lot of pressure on Seraphin to graduate and get a good job as a corporate lawyer. (There’s no money in human rights law.)
It was interesting for me as an older woman to have the perspective of a young man. There’s a lot about sex- doing, thinking, a lot of partying, a lot of trading quips.
I loved the points made about being a refugee, of the immigrant experience and creating a new home.
The book's blurbs make much about the book’s humor, but it’s an angry humor. It’s the humor of those dealing with being made to feel inferior, of being perpetually treated as second class.
There are some interesting writing techniques here. For example, there are multiple Seraphin voices that argue and talk among themselves. Because, don’t we all have that?
I'm sure I’m not the intended audience. I appreciated the book but didn’t love it. I was looking for a more definite ending, more of a resolution. It just sort of ended.
My thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for an advance copy of this book.
Seraphin is in his final year of law school in Cape Town. He landed in law school, not because of any desire, but because what else could he do with an English degree? His Rwandan family was forced to flee during the civil war and landed in Namibia. As “foreigners� they are given fewer opportunities and expected to do more to even keep their jobs. The parents put a lot of pressure on Seraphin to graduate and get a good job as a corporate lawyer. (There’s no money in human rights law.)
It was interesting for me as an older woman to have the perspective of a young man. There’s a lot about sex- doing, thinking, a lot of partying, a lot of trading quips.
I loved the points made about being a refugee, of the immigrant experience and creating a new home.
The book's blurbs make much about the book’s humor, but it’s an angry humor. It’s the humor of those dealing with being made to feel inferior, of being perpetually treated as second class.
There are some interesting writing techniques here. For example, there are multiple Seraphin voices that argue and talk among themselves. Because, don’t we all have that?
I'm sure I’m not the intended audience. I appreciated the book but didn’t love it. I was looking for a more definite ending, more of a resolution. It just sort of ended.
My thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for an advance copy of this book.
May 20, 2021
I want to thank NetGalley and Simon & Schuster Canada for this copy of a vibrant new voice in African writing. Having tented with a small group through beautiful Rwanda before the horrific genocide and travelled on my own through Namibia a decade later, I wanted to immerse myself in memories of those places. I got very little of that atmosphere. Instead, this was a powerful, character-drawn book with much thought-provoking content about race, refugees, the migrant experience, identity, nationalism and how it feels to be a foreigner in a new country. It explores family dynamics and friendships.
The author, Remy Ngamije, is an expressive writer who connects ideas in surprising ways. The structure was nonlinear, and I found it jumbled when switching back and forth to different past and present parts. It follows the story of the main character, Seraphin, as a child of Rwandan refugees growing up in Windhoek, Namibia. It is good to be reminded that not all Africans are living in poverty. This was a pleasant change for its focus on upper-middle-class professionals living comfortably and travelling and studying away from their countries of residence. In fact, Seraphin's parents met while studying and working in Paris and ended up back home in Rwanda, then fleeing to live in Namibia when chaos broke out in Rwanda in 1994. We see them preparing for a New Years' eve party at their home in Windhoek with Seraphin present along with his two younger brothers. The party was attended by a number of Rwandan refugees, including a wealthy migrant living in Canada whose son is living a frivolous and idle life. When Seraphin's father is asked later what tribe he was from, he replied Hutu. I had to wonder if their refugee friends included any of the Tutsis, who were predominately victims of the slaughter.
I cannot say I liked Seraphin, although it was his story. He is bored in Windhoek and wants to be far away from his family and Namibia. He considers himself as a cool alpha male but is vulnerable, has self-doubts and is indecisive. He is under pressure from his parents to become a lawyer. We get his inner dialogue through different voices of his conscience when he attempts to make a decision.
He wins a scholarship to study in Capetown, South Africa.
At University, he falls in with a rowdy group of diverse students of different races and from various African countries, 'The High Lords of Empireland.' He is the life of the never endless parties, bar hopping and excitement. He is their popular leader through his assertiveness and his popular CD mixes for various moods. He has a sarcastic sense of humour, which is often wounding to others, and he can be belligerent. There is much crude talk about sexual encounters. I feel the book is aimed at a younger audience, as I was not familiar with most of the references to the music, nor cared for all the dialogue about sex. Some of the friendships and love interests ended badly.
I think he matured by the end of the book and came to understand his family much better. I thought the ending to be abrupt and open to speculation. I hope the author continues to write about life in Africa. 3.5 stars
The author, Remy Ngamije, is an expressive writer who connects ideas in surprising ways. The structure was nonlinear, and I found it jumbled when switching back and forth to different past and present parts. It follows the story of the main character, Seraphin, as a child of Rwandan refugees growing up in Windhoek, Namibia. It is good to be reminded that not all Africans are living in poverty. This was a pleasant change for its focus on upper-middle-class professionals living comfortably and travelling and studying away from their countries of residence. In fact, Seraphin's parents met while studying and working in Paris and ended up back home in Rwanda, then fleeing to live in Namibia when chaos broke out in Rwanda in 1994. We see them preparing for a New Years' eve party at their home in Windhoek with Seraphin present along with his two younger brothers. The party was attended by a number of Rwandan refugees, including a wealthy migrant living in Canada whose son is living a frivolous and idle life. When Seraphin's father is asked later what tribe he was from, he replied Hutu. I had to wonder if their refugee friends included any of the Tutsis, who were predominately victims of the slaughter.
I cannot say I liked Seraphin, although it was his story. He is bored in Windhoek and wants to be far away from his family and Namibia. He considers himself as a cool alpha male but is vulnerable, has self-doubts and is indecisive. He is under pressure from his parents to become a lawyer. We get his inner dialogue through different voices of his conscience when he attempts to make a decision.
He wins a scholarship to study in Capetown, South Africa.
At University, he falls in with a rowdy group of diverse students of different races and from various African countries, 'The High Lords of Empireland.' He is the life of the never endless parties, bar hopping and excitement. He is their popular leader through his assertiveness and his popular CD mixes for various moods. He has a sarcastic sense of humour, which is often wounding to others, and he can be belligerent. There is much crude talk about sexual encounters. I feel the book is aimed at a younger audience, as I was not familiar with most of the references to the music, nor cared for all the dialogue about sex. Some of the friendships and love interests ended badly.
I think he matured by the end of the book and came to understand his family much better. I thought the ending to be abrupt and open to speculation. I hope the author continues to write about life in Africa. 3.5 stars
September 17, 2021
I’ll load the dishwasher, oh yeah!
After many days of choosing kitchen clean-up over book pick-up, I threw in the towel halfway through. It’s not worth torturing myself when I could be head down with a book I loved. The language was magnificent, but it wasn’t enough. I liked the book okay at first, but it became a chore.
The story is about a young man from Rwanda who moves to Namibia and goes to college in South Africa. There’s very little about his days in Rwanda. One of the reasons I wanted to read this book is because I have such fond memories of , an amazing memoir about a girl from Rwanda who treks across Africa to escape the genocide. I wanted something as real as that, something as intense. Instead, it’s the story of an African college boy with college-boy worries.
Complaint Board:
-Didn’t like the main character, Seraphin. This isn’t a good thing, especially since it’s his coming-of-age story. He seemed like a self-absorbed alpha male who disposes of women as he searches for himself. Some of the reviews mention the word “millennial”—that could be a problem right there. I ain’t no millennial.
-Plot didn’t go anywhere. There sort of wasn’t a plot, really.
-Time and place changes weren’t graceful. I don’t mind a non-linear plot, but this felt disjointed.
-A little message-y. The non-plot was interrupted a lot by comments on social and racial issues.
-Weird conversations with himself, and he names each voice “Seraphin.� There were sometimes five Seraphins in the conversation at once. This did not work for me, AT ALL!
As I said, the language is inviting, but not enough to keep me in the room. Onto something more my speed.
Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.
After many days of choosing kitchen clean-up over book pick-up, I threw in the towel halfway through. It’s not worth torturing myself when I could be head down with a book I loved. The language was magnificent, but it wasn’t enough. I liked the book okay at first, but it became a chore.
The story is about a young man from Rwanda who moves to Namibia and goes to college in South Africa. There’s very little about his days in Rwanda. One of the reasons I wanted to read this book is because I have such fond memories of , an amazing memoir about a girl from Rwanda who treks across Africa to escape the genocide. I wanted something as real as that, something as intense. Instead, it’s the story of an African college boy with college-boy worries.
Complaint Board:
-Didn’t like the main character, Seraphin. This isn’t a good thing, especially since it’s his coming-of-age story. He seemed like a self-absorbed alpha male who disposes of women as he searches for himself. Some of the reviews mention the word “millennial”—that could be a problem right there. I ain’t no millennial.
-Plot didn’t go anywhere. There sort of wasn’t a plot, really.
-Time and place changes weren’t graceful. I don’t mind a non-linear plot, but this felt disjointed.
-A little message-y. The non-plot was interrupted a lot by comments on social and racial issues.
-Weird conversations with himself, and he names each voice “Seraphin.� There were sometimes five Seraphins in the conversation at once. This did not work for me, AT ALL!
As I said, the language is inviting, but not enough to keep me in the room. Onto something more my speed.
Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.
April 10, 2021
Coming-of-age story set primarily in Namibia in the 1990s. Protagonist Séraphin and his family are living in Windhoek, after fleeing Rwanda in the wake of the genocide. The storyline follows Séraphin as he bickers with his brothers, attends school, makes friends, develops relationships, and tries to figure out what to do with his life. Séraphin experiences pressure from his family to become a lawyer after graduation � something he is not sure he wants to do.
It is an atypical migration chronicle. It examines the sad truth that migrants are not always welcomed no matter where in the world we find them. Though the novel contains humor, I would not call it funny. It examines serious topics, particularly racial issues in southern Africa soon after the apartheid laws were repealed.
The story itself is oriented toward a small group of college friends (the term “squad� comes to mind), who, tongue in cheek, name themselves the “High Lords of Empireland.� It contains strings of their text messages, which are bold and sarcastic. The characters come across as real people.
The “audience of one� appears to be Séraphin himself. Whenever a decision presents, he debates with himself through a chorus of voices. He is not actually hearing voices � these are just various versions of his conscience. He deals with common youthful challenges, such as insecurities, identity, and independence. Séra’s response is to develop a “persona� � he is the DJ with the cool playlists, the aloof “player� with many conquests, but the reader also sees his vulnerability and the way he is hurt when he gets close to a few romantic partners.
I very much enjoyed the author’s writing style � it is clever and expressive. He is quite the wordsmith. This is a debut by an obviously talented author.
I received an advanced reader’s copy from the publisher. It is due for publication August 10, 2021.
It is an atypical migration chronicle. It examines the sad truth that migrants are not always welcomed no matter where in the world we find them. Though the novel contains humor, I would not call it funny. It examines serious topics, particularly racial issues in southern Africa soon after the apartheid laws were repealed.
The story itself is oriented toward a small group of college friends (the term “squad� comes to mind), who, tongue in cheek, name themselves the “High Lords of Empireland.� It contains strings of their text messages, which are bold and sarcastic. The characters come across as real people.
The “audience of one� appears to be Séraphin himself. Whenever a decision presents, he debates with himself through a chorus of voices. He is not actually hearing voices � these are just various versions of his conscience. He deals with common youthful challenges, such as insecurities, identity, and independence. Séra’s response is to develop a “persona� � he is the DJ with the cool playlists, the aloof “player� with many conquests, but the reader also sees his vulnerability and the way he is hurt when he gets close to a few romantic partners.
I very much enjoyed the author’s writing style � it is clever and expressive. He is quite the wordsmith. This is a debut by an obviously talented author.
I received an advanced reader’s copy from the publisher. It is due for publication August 10, 2021.
August 13, 2019
This book hooks you with the opening sentence, and it keeps its grip on you. Rémy has a really cinematic way of writing, with every scene you can not only visualize it, but also feel the movement and the atmosphere of the moment. Love this novel.
December 26, 2023
I have never read a book that speaks about Namibia and I think having recently visited there I really enjoyed reading more about it. I really loved the first half of the book but then I think the book went on for a very long time without the plot really moving along. I wish the editor did a better job of tightening up things.
Overall I enjoyed it and Ill read what he writes next.
Overall I enjoyed it and Ill read what he writes next.
September 2, 2020
Truly please that I have read this book. Remy Ngamije is an incredible writer. Although I reached a point where I really wanted the book to end. I also felt like I was stuck in a conversation I was not involved in. The first half of the book which was set in Windhoek thrilled me. As a reader I have learnt so much and understood in length what it means when the essence of belonging is unclear and how unsettling that could be.
.
This book is a genre-bending, humorous, conversation starter, controversial, wanderlust and most of all it’s filled with rounded characters. It is true you laugh at moments you never saw coming. Genius. Dialogue was relatable and cinematic. This book explored themes such as identity, migration, being a student in a foreign country but also being a foreigner in a country you call home. Seraphin is living, he lives holding his heart in his palms. Through him we see the familiarity of family dynamics and friendship. Through him we were goaded and through him we reminisced. Sera is a gem, I loved him but was also irritated by him while continuously understanding him and his need to escape boredom.
.
The author does something incredible with the structure, He pulls you in and leaves you hanging while he continues with another character arch but he always comes back to continued to the end to give you a perfect and satisfying ending.Something eerie also kept happening; I felt like i was the fourth Seraphin, 😂the one that observes and squirms.
.
Even though I do think this could be one of the best offerings from blackbirds. I did encounter issues as well. The book tend to ramble some chapters you question why they there because they seem to float out of the storyline. Also had an issue with the eye. Whose story was it? Who is the eye? The sameness between the protagonist and the narrator. At times confusion became my solitude because each sentence gyrated in its own originality and freshness.
.
I also heard when the book had been doing rounds that it was not at home in Namibia. I could understand why- because this book had hard some hard to swallow gutting truths.
.
This book is a genre-bending, humorous, conversation starter, controversial, wanderlust and most of all it’s filled with rounded characters. It is true you laugh at moments you never saw coming. Genius. Dialogue was relatable and cinematic. This book explored themes such as identity, migration, being a student in a foreign country but also being a foreigner in a country you call home. Seraphin is living, he lives holding his heart in his palms. Through him we see the familiarity of family dynamics and friendship. Through him we were goaded and through him we reminisced. Sera is a gem, I loved him but was also irritated by him while continuously understanding him and his need to escape boredom.
.
The author does something incredible with the structure, He pulls you in and leaves you hanging while he continues with another character arch but he always comes back to continued to the end to give you a perfect and satisfying ending.Something eerie also kept happening; I felt like i was the fourth Seraphin, 😂the one that observes and squirms.
.
Even though I do think this could be one of the best offerings from blackbirds. I did encounter issues as well. The book tend to ramble some chapters you question why they there because they seem to float out of the storyline. Also had an issue with the eye. Whose story was it? Who is the eye? The sameness between the protagonist and the narrator. At times confusion became my solitude because each sentence gyrated in its own originality and freshness.
.
I also heard when the book had been doing rounds that it was not at home in Namibia. I could understand why- because this book had hard some hard to swallow gutting truths.
August 11, 2021
This book was so much fun to read for the wordplay. It could also be an eye-opener for people who weren't aware of apartheid and the murdering in Rwanda.
The story centers on Seraphin, a young man growing up in Windhoek, Namibian, after his family were forced from Rwanda.
He had two brothers that were dropped from his story after around high school.
Seraphin was extremely intelligent and worked hard to be the best. His parents were educated in Europe and planned from the birth of their sons, that they to were expected to go to university.
I though at time that Seraphin had a split personality, because sometimes he would talk with each person when the need came up for him to think about how to respond to a situation.
Seraphin as a following all through his life, a crew if you will. And they hang on his every word.
He goes through girls and college age girls like water and they all just conquest, no love involved.
But things change, and he meets his forever and messes it up, just before his finals in law school in Cape Town.
His father comes for his graduation and tells Seraphin a story that changes everything.
Excellent read all around.
Thanks to Mr. Remy Ngamije and ŷ for getting this book into my hands.
The story centers on Seraphin, a young man growing up in Windhoek, Namibian, after his family were forced from Rwanda.
He had two brothers that were dropped from his story after around high school.
Seraphin was extremely intelligent and worked hard to be the best. His parents were educated in Europe and planned from the birth of their sons, that they to were expected to go to university.
I though at time that Seraphin had a split personality, because sometimes he would talk with each person when the need came up for him to think about how to respond to a situation.
Seraphin as a following all through his life, a crew if you will. And they hang on his every word.
He goes through girls and college age girls like water and they all just conquest, no love involved.
But things change, and he meets his forever and messes it up, just before his finals in law school in Cape Town.
His father comes for his graduation and tells Seraphin a story that changes everything.
Excellent read all around.
Thanks to Mr. Remy Ngamije and ŷ for getting this book into my hands.
January 30, 2022
"Life is not hard in Windhoek, but it is not easy, either. The poor are either falling behind or falling pregnant. The rich refuse to send the elevator back down when they reach the top. And since cities require a sturdy foundation of tolerated inequalities, Windhoek is like many other big places in the world. It is a haven for more, but a place of less. If you are not politically connected or from old white money, then the best thing to be is a tourist. The city and the country fawn over tourists. The country's economy does, too. That is when it is not digging itself poor.
"That is Windhoek. The best thing to do in the city is arrive and leave."
And now, raise your hand if you find yourself wondering where Windhoek is. Don’t be shy. You’ll have plenty of company…ah. Yes. I applaud your bravery, being the first. And you, and you…and you in the back. Anyone else? That’s what I thought. Look around. Almost all of you. So now, I’ll relieve your discomfort and tell you, it’s in Namibia. Our protagonist, Seraphim, and his family must relocate there during the upheaval in their native Rwanda. This is his story, told in the first person.
My thanks go to Net Galley and Gallery Books for the review copy. This book is available to the public now.
Seraphim’s parents are strivers, working industriously to ensure that he and his siblings will have excellent educations and better lives. As a young man, he works hard and is fiercely competitive in school, but once he is at university in Cape Town, he becomes a party animal, using Cliffs Notes to dodge the assigned reading and embarking on booze fueled, all night romps. Ultimately, this is a coming of age story in a different time and place than that which most Western readers are accustomed to. And oh, my friend, if you are going to spread your wings and stretch your global literacy just a teensy bit, then this is one painless way to do it.
Once he’s inside South Africa, Sera deals with Apartheid, and during the course of his education, is advised by a wise friend, who tells him that if you want decent notes, you must befriend BWGs. These are Benevolent White Girls, and they seem to know some sort of educational code that young Black men have somehow been shut out of. There’s a funny passage about how to tell if a Caucasian is the sort one can hang out with, and to explain the difference in his own social class growing up, in contrast to others in his social group, he describes a problem with desks. There are fifty children in the class, he says, and not everyone can have a desk. Little Sera gets busy, and eventually is able to rise from chair number 50, to chair number three. Then, after a struggle with Gina and Hasham, the first and second place students, he rises to the first chair, first desk. When a friend asks what became of Gina and Hasham, Sera shrugs with his characteristic cocky arrogance, and he tells him, “I like to think they married and had second and third place children.�
Part of what I love is the way the voice here sounds like young men in their late teens and early twenties, here, there, or probably just about anywhere. In my experience, his demographic is the most hilarious of any in real life, and it comes shining through here, full of irreverent wit.
The narrative isn’t linear, and there’s some creative jumping around that, when combined with the internal discussions the narrator calls “The Council of the Seraphims,� can be difficult to keep up with. Don’t try to read the second half of this novel after you’ve taken your sleeping pill.
All told, this is a brainy, hilarious work, which is perhaps why Ngamije is being compared to Chabon and Zadie Smith. He resembles neither, apart from being very literate and extremely funny. In fact, this book is worth reading just for the snarky texts sent by Sera and this friends; their handles crack me up even before I see what they have to say.
Highly recommended, even at full price.
"That is Windhoek. The best thing to do in the city is arrive and leave."
And now, raise your hand if you find yourself wondering where Windhoek is. Don’t be shy. You’ll have plenty of company…ah. Yes. I applaud your bravery, being the first. And you, and you…and you in the back. Anyone else? That’s what I thought. Look around. Almost all of you. So now, I’ll relieve your discomfort and tell you, it’s in Namibia. Our protagonist, Seraphim, and his family must relocate there during the upheaval in their native Rwanda. This is his story, told in the first person.
My thanks go to Net Galley and Gallery Books for the review copy. This book is available to the public now.
Seraphim’s parents are strivers, working industriously to ensure that he and his siblings will have excellent educations and better lives. As a young man, he works hard and is fiercely competitive in school, but once he is at university in Cape Town, he becomes a party animal, using Cliffs Notes to dodge the assigned reading and embarking on booze fueled, all night romps. Ultimately, this is a coming of age story in a different time and place than that which most Western readers are accustomed to. And oh, my friend, if you are going to spread your wings and stretch your global literacy just a teensy bit, then this is one painless way to do it.
Once he’s inside South Africa, Sera deals with Apartheid, and during the course of his education, is advised by a wise friend, who tells him that if you want decent notes, you must befriend BWGs. These are Benevolent White Girls, and they seem to know some sort of educational code that young Black men have somehow been shut out of. There’s a funny passage about how to tell if a Caucasian is the sort one can hang out with, and to explain the difference in his own social class growing up, in contrast to others in his social group, he describes a problem with desks. There are fifty children in the class, he says, and not everyone can have a desk. Little Sera gets busy, and eventually is able to rise from chair number 50, to chair number three. Then, after a struggle with Gina and Hasham, the first and second place students, he rises to the first chair, first desk. When a friend asks what became of Gina and Hasham, Sera shrugs with his characteristic cocky arrogance, and he tells him, “I like to think they married and had second and third place children.�
Part of what I love is the way the voice here sounds like young men in their late teens and early twenties, here, there, or probably just about anywhere. In my experience, his demographic is the most hilarious of any in real life, and it comes shining through here, full of irreverent wit.
The narrative isn’t linear, and there’s some creative jumping around that, when combined with the internal discussions the narrator calls “The Council of the Seraphims,� can be difficult to keep up with. Don’t try to read the second half of this novel after you’ve taken your sleeping pill.
All told, this is a brainy, hilarious work, which is perhaps why Ngamije is being compared to Chabon and Zadie Smith. He resembles neither, apart from being very literate and extremely funny. In fact, this book is worth reading just for the snarky texts sent by Sera and this friends; their handles crack me up even before I see what they have to say.
Highly recommended, even at full price.
August 20, 2020
504 pages later... i wonder if the main character of the book is actually Remy. i enjoyed the last part of this book the most. Loved it...
April 27, 2021
I won an advance copy of this book in a ŷ giveaway and it does have some really good moments in both the writing and the storyline. Unfortunately, the main character Seraphin felt like such a heavily stereotyped cliche (with much of the book devoted to hyping his sexual prowess, promiscuity and swaggering alpha male status within his clique) that it ultimately served as a distraction from the larger concepts, which include racism, refugeeism, globalism, nationalism and the barriers to making a home in a world where all of those issues come into conflict.
Even as a 'coming-of-age' tale, the ending falls short, since it largely omits a critical scene in that transition for the main character (or at least the most 'mature' scene that the character allegedly follows-through with). The story builds toward the moment, but then cuts away to the epilogue instead and suggests that it did happen, but the reader just missed it. I felt a bit cheated by this.
I think I would have liked this better if the whole novel focused on Seraphin's parents instead, since the most interesting, poignant and sincere moments in the book for me were the ones that were created around them. That being said, the twist with the father in the end did feel incongruous with the rest of the story and served to reinforce the notion that there is just generally an over-reliance on sex as a default plot point in this book.
Even as a 'coming-of-age' tale, the ending falls short, since it largely omits a critical scene in that transition for the main character (or at least the most 'mature' scene that the character allegedly follows-through with). The story builds toward the moment, but then cuts away to the epilogue instead and suggests that it did happen, but the reader just missed it. I felt a bit cheated by this.
I think I would have liked this better if the whole novel focused on Seraphin's parents instead, since the most interesting, poignant and sincere moments in the book for me were the ones that were created around them. That being said, the twist with the father in the end did feel incongruous with the rest of the story and served to reinforce the notion that there is just generally an over-reliance on sex as a default plot point in this book.
April 21, 2022
Zaczęło się super, a potem przystopowało mnie na tydzień XD Ma momenty świetne, czasami nawet genialnie. Przez jakiś czas doskonale balansuje między lekką młodzieżówką, a obrazem traumy pokoleniowej, rasizmu, dyskryminacji i skomplikowanej sytuacji południowej i wschodniej Afryki, potem jednak gubi się w narracjach, ilości bohaterów i przeskoków czasowych. Największy minus to część „młodzieżowa,� chociaż to pewnie wina moja, mojej wiecznie 80letniej duszy, skomplikowanego wieku młodzieńczego i aseksualności XD
Read
August 24, 2021There was a lot of promise both outside this book and within, but it took me months to read it.
I enjoy coming of age stories. I was really excited at the prospect of reading about Rwandan refugees living in Namibia going to school in South Africa, as written by someone from the area.
There is a lot of gorgeous prose here, but unfortunately the structure kept throwing me out, with its unrelenting flea-hopping from past to present. Also, the very realism with which Seraphin, the hero, is presented made me dislike him much of the time. I kept wanting to read past his self-absorption to some of the side characters whose moments on the page were all too brief.
But again, a lot of beautiful prose, and some great word-pictures of life in a place I have not read much about.
Copy provided by NetGalley
I enjoy coming of age stories. I was really excited at the prospect of reading about Rwandan refugees living in Namibia going to school in South Africa, as written by someone from the area.
There is a lot of gorgeous prose here, but unfortunately the structure kept throwing me out, with its unrelenting flea-hopping from past to present. Also, the very realism with which Seraphin, the hero, is presented made me dislike him much of the time. I kept wanting to read past his self-absorption to some of the side characters whose moments on the page were all too brief.
But again, a lot of beautiful prose, and some great word-pictures of life in a place I have not read much about.
Copy provided by NetGalley
March 13, 2025
3.75 stars
Rémy Ngamije’s The Eternal Audience of One is a witty and introspective coming-of-age novel that follows Séraphin, a Rwandan immigrant navigating life in Namibia while yearning for escape and self-discovery. The book blends humor with social commentary, exploring themes of migration, identity, and belonging. Ngamije’s writing is energetic, filled with cultural references and crisp dialogue. Séraphin’s physical and emotional journey resonates with anyone who has ever felt caught between worlds. The Eternal Audience of One is a compelling and fresh addition to contemporary African literature.
Rémy Ngamije’s The Eternal Audience of One is a witty and introspective coming-of-age novel that follows Séraphin, a Rwandan immigrant navigating life in Namibia while yearning for escape and self-discovery. The book blends humor with social commentary, exploring themes of migration, identity, and belonging. Ngamije’s writing is energetic, filled with cultural references and crisp dialogue. Séraphin’s physical and emotional journey resonates with anyone who has ever felt caught between worlds. The Eternal Audience of One is a compelling and fresh addition to contemporary African literature.
November 10, 2021
This is a book I found utterly by chance browsing in a bookstore where the title attracted my attention, the blurb seemed ok so I opened it and then couldn't put it down so had to get it asap and read it.
Overall I really loved it and I cannot highly recommend it enough for a really authentic book about the experience of being the other in a society that supposedly is "colorblind" and offers equal opportunities, but in reality, is still separated by class and racial degrees (though they tend to go hand in hand); add to this the experience of exile and adjustment to different cultures and the "proudness" of the main character Seraphin, who doesn't want to accept "his place", so gets in various troubles from his first-grade class in Kenya (where starting in the bottom of his class wth the pupils that sat on the floor rather sitting in chairs, worked his way up to dethrone the Indian girl that was the star pupil and sat in chair 1), the first stop his parents, well to do Rwandans whose backstory in France and home is quite interesting in its own way, made when they were forced to leave everything behind and flee for their lives in 1994, to his experiences in Windhoek where Seraphin and his family are now tolerated as long as they work hard, are meek and keep their mouths shut, to CapeTown and its rainbow nation slogan, where somehow police extort only the black drivers, the posh clubs entrance is guaranteed to white youths however casually dressed and pretty black girls, but black youths even dressed to impress are turned away etc etc
As the book puts it: "Foreigners have no business being under-qualified or under-performing" (which is quite true in many other places for that matter) and later “It isn’t like we do it on purpose,� said Séraphin. “Class is like, what do they call it these days, a safe space. Everyone is the same there. Same needs, same goals, same worries within that space. We don’t have to talk about anything other than law. Maybe the film we saw last night or what we’re listening to. Safe ***. Outside is something else. Too many differences would come out. Imagine if we had to talk to them about Avec and the up racial profiling? It wouldn’t work. Mostly because they wouldn’t believe it happens, know that it happens. They’d say we were imagining it.�
However the novel is not "angry" by and large but quite funny and while there are moments where the narrative flow breaks down as well as some parts that could have been shortened to some extent, while one would have liked to see more of others, it is overall a page-turner too with a lot of goings-on.
Highly recommended and an author to watch from now on.
Overall I really loved it and I cannot highly recommend it enough for a really authentic book about the experience of being the other in a society that supposedly is "colorblind" and offers equal opportunities, but in reality, is still separated by class and racial degrees (though they tend to go hand in hand); add to this the experience of exile and adjustment to different cultures and the "proudness" of the main character Seraphin, who doesn't want to accept "his place", so gets in various troubles from his first-grade class in Kenya (where starting in the bottom of his class wth the pupils that sat on the floor rather sitting in chairs, worked his way up to dethrone the Indian girl that was the star pupil and sat in chair 1), the first stop his parents, well to do Rwandans whose backstory in France and home is quite interesting in its own way, made when they were forced to leave everything behind and flee for their lives in 1994, to his experiences in Windhoek where Seraphin and his family are now tolerated as long as they work hard, are meek and keep their mouths shut, to CapeTown and its rainbow nation slogan, where somehow police extort only the black drivers, the posh clubs entrance is guaranteed to white youths however casually dressed and pretty black girls, but black youths even dressed to impress are turned away etc etc
As the book puts it: "Foreigners have no business being under-qualified or under-performing" (which is quite true in many other places for that matter) and later “It isn’t like we do it on purpose,� said Séraphin. “Class is like, what do they call it these days, a safe space. Everyone is the same there. Same needs, same goals, same worries within that space. We don’t have to talk about anything other than law. Maybe the film we saw last night or what we’re listening to. Safe ***. Outside is something else. Too many differences would come out. Imagine if we had to talk to them about Avec and the up racial profiling? It wouldn’t work. Mostly because they wouldn’t believe it happens, know that it happens. They’d say we were imagining it.�
However the novel is not "angry" by and large but quite funny and while there are moments where the narrative flow breaks down as well as some parts that could have been shortened to some extent, while one would have liked to see more of others, it is overall a page-turner too with a lot of goings-on.
Highly recommended and an author to watch from now on.
February 2, 2020
This is an excellent debut novel by Rémy Ngamije, Rwandan-born Namibian writer, teacher, cultural personnage. I had the pleasure to get to know Rémy while in Namibia. I was so pleased to hear his novel came out, although it's hard to get in the US - but on Christmas morning I found it in a package addressed to me. Husband had dug it out from England apparently.
Rémy's language is like fireworks, and like really good shows, there's always more of it. The book is big! What really impressed me was the structure. Rémy jumps between different pasts and the present, where his main character, Séraphin, is enjoying his last year of law school in Cape Town. He doesn't want to go back to Namibia, because Windhoek is bo-ring. (Well, it kinda is compared to Cape Town.) The past comes up all the time, and occasionally you might get lost between the times and people, but Rémy pulls it confidently all together. Also, the past comes mainly up just when you'd really like to know what had happened, so there's no frustration.
Séraphin is cool. So cool, and cultural, and fun, although quite, quite stubborn. And even a middle-aged reader like me can sort of follow along and laugh.
Thank you, Rémy! You deserve all the accolades you're getting!
Rémy's language is like fireworks, and like really good shows, there's always more of it. The book is big! What really impressed me was the structure. Rémy jumps between different pasts and the present, where his main character, Séraphin, is enjoying his last year of law school in Cape Town. He doesn't want to go back to Namibia, because Windhoek is bo-ring. (Well, it kinda is compared to Cape Town.) The past comes up all the time, and occasionally you might get lost between the times and people, but Rémy pulls it confidently all together. Also, the past comes mainly up just when you'd really like to know what had happened, so there's no frustration.
Séraphin is cool. So cool, and cultural, and fun, although quite, quite stubborn. And even a middle-aged reader like me can sort of follow along and laugh.
Thank you, Rémy! You deserve all the accolades you're getting!
April 20, 2021
I did love reading THE ETERNAL AUDIENCE OF ONE! The book is filled with humor, and race is something often discussed. Seraphin is the main character in this novel, and his approaching school graduation is a main topic 0f discussion. This leads to a surprising end of the novel, for me anyway.
I believe this book will be loved by many!
I believe this book will be loved by many!
September 28, 2022
I stopped after 65% of the audiobook because the plot wasn’t going anywhere. Based on other reviews, it looks like I made the right call. Even listening at 1.8x speed, I was bored and not invested in the characters. It was a long, slow plateau of not much happening.
August 11, 2021
The book’s title The Eternal Audience of One would seem to refer to the unrepentant self-centeredness of the young male protagonist Séraphin Turihamwe. At an overview level, focusing on entertainment value, the storytelling is a familiar coming-of-age plot, a series of hookups, mostly casual and a few intense � soft-core graphic. What’s exceptional about author Rémy Ngamije’s version are the intrigues of and insights on sexual, racial, and geopolitical strife in today’s southern Africa. Séraphin was born Rwandan, but his educated family emigrates to Namibia in search of both safety and prosperity. As a result, the label refugee gets appended to him, when he and his family expect to be regarded as residents who deserve a place in the country’s rapidly emerging middle class. But no sooner does overachieving student Séraphin begin to adjust than he decides to attend law school at Remms in Cape Town, South Africa. There he is rapidly thrown into a sophisticated urban environment, along with the predictable pressures of trying to balance the obligations of academic achievement and serious partying. Séraphin hangs with a posse of fellow students. These men call themselves the High Lords, facilitating their exploits with alcohol but not drugs. He has left an Afrikaner girlfriend back home in Windhoek to stumble into a series of hookups with young women who are variously white and black. Although he and his fellows don’t discriminate racially as to their choices in partners, they do share stereotypes among themselves about the characteristics, charms, and preferences of each. For example, a group they call the Benevolent White Girls would not think of sleeping with any of them, but they are avid notetakers in class and are eager to help their black brothers crib. As with Séraphin’s chagrin at being called a refugee, many of his mates, although from indigenous ethnicities in neighboring countries, are regarded as foreigners in Cape Town. So, it’s mostly partying and texting, along with falling in and out of bed, if not in love. Spoiler alert: chick-magnet Séraphin doesn’t quite settle down when the Epilogue wraps, but one can expect, if there is a sequel, it will be set in Windhoek and he will be pleading with the High Lords to stand at his side for the ceremony. Or not.
October 29, 2021
So, I have struggled to articulate just how awesome this book is. The best way I can summarize my pleasure is that I would love to hang with this author in a dinner setting, ski day, camping trip, whatever. The way he writes, the insights he brings, his humorous sarcasm that bleeds through the writing, is all so real and inviting. Sure, there’s a dark side, like he portrays in any literary protagonist, but you accept it and move on (FYI I’m somewhat of an optimist). Suffice it to say a prolonged visit to Namibia and Cape Town is now on my bucket list!
February 19, 2022
I loved this, really. Cape Town, Windhoek, family, history…a little too much bonking. But delightful.
August 10, 2020
"For the most part, the past is right where it belongs: in the past. Everything is always headed towards the past anyway so it seems fitting that it is where time and memory are located. It is where choices make sense, where mistakes are sometimes forgiven. The past is certain and settled, even if human beings are not; they constantly sift through words, deeds, bones, and things to try and explain today or predict tomorrow, all the while forgetting the universe's secret joke: it is dying, cooling, and slowing down. It knows there is no now, it is already gone; there is no tomorrow, for it has already come."
The idea of the temporal is forceful and unmistakable in this stunning debut novel by Rwandan-born Namibian writer, Rémy Ngamije. Our foolish ideas about time, how past is prologue as the bard says, how time runs like sand through our hands, how it is near-impossible to escape our pasts; these are themes explored in this coming-of-age story about a young Namibian boy becoming a man, whose parents escaped the genocide in Rwanda, where he was born. But, while his family has climbed up the social ladder in Namibia, they're still strangers in a strange land and the exploration of the diaspora comes across strongly.
Young Séraphin often feels his family is holding him back. In fact, Ngamije writes that family is something to be "survived". He longs for more than what Windhoek, Namibia's capital, can offer him. So when he gets a scholarship to study at a prestigious university in Cape Town, South Africa, he grabs it with both hands. His parents are pressuring him to pursue something 'solid' that will result in a good job, like law. Séraphin convinces them to let him pursue an arts degree in English, with the promise that he'll continue with law after that. But he finds law stifling.
What really lifts Séraphin's spirits, is the group of vibrant friends he makes in Cape Town, a kaleidoscope of characters described vividly and with brio. They are Séraphin's tribe, and become closer to him than his family has ever been. Together, they traverse Cape Town, cram for exams and broach subjects like race. Two of the group's members are white, and at least one doesn't seem to comprehend the microaggressions and even more overt racism experienced by his Black friends, causing Séraphin much frustration.
The book is also about the yearning for freedom, like freedom from the expectations placed on us by our parents and by society. Séraphin is expected to return to Namibia once his studies are complete so he can make some kind of contribution there, possibly to prove that the 'foreigners' can also be accomplished. But, the author isn't without sympathy for Séraphin's family. Both his father and mother are given a voice and we're taken on the journey of how they met, the development of their relationship and how they came to be in Namibia.
"The Eternal Audience of One" is a book full of dry humour and wit. Windhoek, a city called a city "because the country needs one" is described as having three temperatures: "hot, mosquito and fucking cold". The story is bewitching, told in luminous prose. The characters jump off the page. And through it all, readers must decide for themselves: who is the eternal audience of one? Who sees us completely; who witnesses all of our lives?
This book is now one of my favourites for this year. An absolute must-read. I cannot wait for more from this brilliant young writer.
March 20, 2021
The Eternal Audience of One by Remy Ngamije is a wonderful feast for the passionate and hungry reader. I found myself mesmerized and at times completely engulfed into another world...and before I knew it, I had devoured every crumb.
I really enjoyed this story of Seraphin whom is in school in South Africa, and the reader is placed at a pivotal moment. As a Rwandan-born transplant, he has one half in the past, and one half on the edge of something on the horizon. As he navigates his existence, the reality of society with all its glories and smudges, the question of what is to come next is contemplated during his last year of University.
At times heavy...at times witty, humorous, and other times challenging...I thoroughly enjoyed this journey.
This is a book to savor and to enjoy again and again.
5/5 stars
Thank you NG and Gallery/Scout Press for this wonderful arc and in return I am submitting my unbiased and voluntary review and opinion.
I am posting this review to my GR and Bookbub accounts immediately and will post it to my Amazon, Instagram, and B&N accounts upon publication.
I really enjoyed this story of Seraphin whom is in school in South Africa, and the reader is placed at a pivotal moment. As a Rwandan-born transplant, he has one half in the past, and one half on the edge of something on the horizon. As he navigates his existence, the reality of society with all its glories and smudges, the question of what is to come next is contemplated during his last year of University.
At times heavy...at times witty, humorous, and other times challenging...I thoroughly enjoyed this journey.
This is a book to savor and to enjoy again and again.
5/5 stars
Thank you NG and Gallery/Scout Press for this wonderful arc and in return I am submitting my unbiased and voluntary review and opinion.
I am posting this review to my GR and Bookbub accounts immediately and will post it to my Amazon, Instagram, and B&N accounts upon publication.
July 28, 2021
This book is kind of my everything. It’s my type of summer read: smart, deep, layered, funny, different, interesting, beautiful, and full of important themes that must be read, acknowledged, and understood. It’s funny, in the US we watch the news, read a few books, watch a few documentaries and think that we have a good idea about life in different African countries, but we know next to nothing, apart from our prejudices. In 2018 I made it a point to read books from African writers from every country on the continent, and it has been such a beneficial, and ongoing journey. I would recommend this book to everyone - it’s lyrical and beautiful, relatable, and so funny at times that you laugh out loud (but keep your tissue box handy too because you will cry).
Séraphin is in his last year of law school at Remms, a prestigious university in Cape Town. He didn’t really want to study law, and has a penchant for the written word rather than law itself, but did it because it was one of his parents wishes. His family live in Windhoek, Namibia, refugees from Rwanda where they fled for their lives in 1994. He has a tight group of friends, who call themselves the High Lords of Empireland, and they spend a lot of time going out, drinking, dancing, and having fun, just like any students do. Séraphin isn’t ready to graduate, and definitely not ready to move back to Windhoek, a place he finds boring and predictable. But he also doesn’t really know what he wants to do either, not sure whether Cape Town is where he wants to set his roots.
The narrative doesn't follow a straight line, and I am someone who really enjoys that type of sequence. I loved how we follow Séraphin’s thought process and life, but how we also jump backwards and forwards, discovering how his parents met and fell in love in Paris, or how Séraphin met his first love; learning how his family left a very comfortable life in Rwanda with nothing, and learned to live as “foreigners� in Namibia, never to be treated as citizens despite their hard work and ability to integrate into their new lives seamlessly, despite the trauma and horror left behind and in their hearts.
Rémy Ngamije weaves the everyday microaggressions and full-on aggressions into the story: the remnants of Apartheid still deeply embedded in South African culture, but also the racial and class tensions in Namibia, and in other countries such as Uganda and Kenya. Séraphin’s friends come from different countries in Africa and are brought together for different reasons. Some of the writing is so perfectly balanced, there are times when you laugh and then cry within the same sentence. Some of it is so subtle that it only dawns on you pages later what the author’s intentions are, and some of it is so in your face that you can’t help laughing and relating to it. Séraphin is young, a little self-centered, smart, hilarious, and searching for something more, like most of us (at least I was) at his age. This is a coming of age novel, but also a story of migration, of growing up not knowing where home is, of friendship, of love, happiness, race, identity, and learning. And make sure you read the epilogue properly, because if you blink you will miss the ending that you are looking for.
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
Séraphin is in his last year of law school at Remms, a prestigious university in Cape Town. He didn’t really want to study law, and has a penchant for the written word rather than law itself, but did it because it was one of his parents wishes. His family live in Windhoek, Namibia, refugees from Rwanda where they fled for their lives in 1994. He has a tight group of friends, who call themselves the High Lords of Empireland, and they spend a lot of time going out, drinking, dancing, and having fun, just like any students do. Séraphin isn’t ready to graduate, and definitely not ready to move back to Windhoek, a place he finds boring and predictable. But he also doesn’t really know what he wants to do either, not sure whether Cape Town is where he wants to set his roots.
The narrative doesn't follow a straight line, and I am someone who really enjoys that type of sequence. I loved how we follow Séraphin’s thought process and life, but how we also jump backwards and forwards, discovering how his parents met and fell in love in Paris, or how Séraphin met his first love; learning how his family left a very comfortable life in Rwanda with nothing, and learned to live as “foreigners� in Namibia, never to be treated as citizens despite their hard work and ability to integrate into their new lives seamlessly, despite the trauma and horror left behind and in their hearts.
Rémy Ngamije weaves the everyday microaggressions and full-on aggressions into the story: the remnants of Apartheid still deeply embedded in South African culture, but also the racial and class tensions in Namibia, and in other countries such as Uganda and Kenya. Séraphin’s friends come from different countries in Africa and are brought together for different reasons. Some of the writing is so perfectly balanced, there are times when you laugh and then cry within the same sentence. Some of it is so subtle that it only dawns on you pages later what the author’s intentions are, and some of it is so in your face that you can’t help laughing and relating to it. Séraphin is young, a little self-centered, smart, hilarious, and searching for something more, like most of us (at least I was) at his age. This is a coming of age novel, but also a story of migration, of growing up not knowing where home is, of friendship, of love, happiness, race, identity, and learning. And make sure you read the epilogue properly, because if you blink you will miss the ending that you are looking for.
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
June 19, 2022
2.5 round up. Great writing and some one line zingers but I’m not sure how I feel at the end. A bit like an unsatisfactory one night stand…�
July 21, 2021
This is the story of a twenty-something Rwandan refugee who spent his childhood in Namibia and is in his final year of law school in Cape Town, South Africa. Seraphin is on the cusp of graduation, but has no sense of direction. His family in Namibia has expectations that he doesn’t think he can live up to, and practicing law does not appeal to him in the least. He is much more interested in the dating scene, hanging out with his friends, and making playlists for every mood to act as a soundtrack for his many life adventures. Seraphin’s eventual epiphany comes as he realizes that he is not so different from his parents as he imagined.
Throughout this coming-of-age novel, themes of refugee stigma and racism are woven within as the plot unfolds via flashbacks, text conversations, and Seraphin’s current state of mind. It was eye opening to consider the barriers that refugees face in Africa, from social ostracization to limited job opportunities, even for the highly educated. The racism Seraphin faces at university and in city life in Cape Town are infuriating, and his frustration with an enabling system are palpable. That being said, his story is very relatable as a young man trying to find his place in the world while balancing the hopes of his parents against his own wishes.
There are many aspects of this novel that I appreciated. The writing is very of the moment, with pop culture references and text conversation among friends sprinkled throughout the narrative. There is frequent humor interspersed with the more serious themes, and Seraphin definitely has a sense of fun and adventure. I also found that there is a great deal of wisdom dished out by the elder characters in Seraphin’s life.
To be honest, my biggest turnoff in this work is the sheer amount of sexual conquests that Seraphin takes part in. Perhaps it’s just that I’m not the target audience for this particular novel, but the way he goes after women as somewhat of a game did not appeal to me. I did, however, greatly appreciate the frank and natural inclusion of the use of condoms in most every encounter as I feel it was not at all awkward and normalized the responsible practice. It was just part of the process, and I don’t often see it addressed in fiction in this way. Bravo for that!
My only other criticism is that the story is told from multiple points of view as we learn the history of Seraphin’s parents and other characters and how it relates to his current situation in life. While this in and of itself is not a problem, I did sometimes get confused as to where the story was in time or whose perspective was being used and found that it did interrupt the flow in places.
Overall, this is a worthwhile read. It gives some insight into refugee life and racism in Africa, is relatable as a coming-of-age story, and has a very modern vibe.
Throughout this coming-of-age novel, themes of refugee stigma and racism are woven within as the plot unfolds via flashbacks, text conversations, and Seraphin’s current state of mind. It was eye opening to consider the barriers that refugees face in Africa, from social ostracization to limited job opportunities, even for the highly educated. The racism Seraphin faces at university and in city life in Cape Town are infuriating, and his frustration with an enabling system are palpable. That being said, his story is very relatable as a young man trying to find his place in the world while balancing the hopes of his parents against his own wishes.
There are many aspects of this novel that I appreciated. The writing is very of the moment, with pop culture references and text conversation among friends sprinkled throughout the narrative. There is frequent humor interspersed with the more serious themes, and Seraphin definitely has a sense of fun and adventure. I also found that there is a great deal of wisdom dished out by the elder characters in Seraphin’s life.
To be honest, my biggest turnoff in this work is the sheer amount of sexual conquests that Seraphin takes part in. Perhaps it’s just that I’m not the target audience for this particular novel, but the way he goes after women as somewhat of a game did not appeal to me. I did, however, greatly appreciate the frank and natural inclusion of the use of condoms in most every encounter as I feel it was not at all awkward and normalized the responsible practice. It was just part of the process, and I don’t often see it addressed in fiction in this way. Bravo for that!
My only other criticism is that the story is told from multiple points of view as we learn the history of Seraphin’s parents and other characters and how it relates to his current situation in life. While this in and of itself is not a problem, I did sometimes get confused as to where the story was in time or whose perspective was being used and found that it did interrupt the flow in places.
Overall, this is a worthwhile read. It gives some insight into refugee life and racism in Africa, is relatable as a coming-of-age story, and has a very modern vibe.
February 10, 2022
I told a friend “this doesn’t feel so much like reading a book, so much as hanging out with your friends and laughing and sharing stories�. Some of the characters are alive and feel real to me, but others stayed a bit flat and never really reached any emotional commitments from me. The commentaries on race, class, and gender were serious and funny at the same time- hilarious and sad metaphors. I enjoyed the South African viewpoint from the main character, who is Rwandan and displaced into Nairobi. But even saying that feels like I didn’t read the book, because the main character doesn’t seem to feel too strongly about his roots or his young childhood in Rwanda. It’s like we’re supposed to assume he has all this baggage but he does and he doesn’t? I liked the breaking the mold storyline for what we assume about people and their trauma. It was all very interesting and fresh and felt like I was watching a TV show. I really enjoyed this book and recommend it!
(Our main character is a bit of player and not very tame with his friends when talking about women/trying to sleep with them. So if a storyline that has that as a recurring theme isn’t your thing, you might not enjoy this)
(Our main character is a bit of player and not very tame with his friends when talking about women/trying to sleep with them. So if a storyline that has that as a recurring theme isn’t your thing, you might not enjoy this)
December 24, 2021
Great writing! Funny, punchy, creative. I loved the first section getting to know all the characters (although I should have made a chart of the group of friends and all their nationalities and backgrounds, it would have made getting to know them more enjoyable and understandable) and understanding the politics of Southern Africa and the various countries of Rwanda, Namibia and South Africa. Got bogged down a bit with the main character in college, thinking with his dick and just being a dude. But the author pulled me back in with the unique writing and we can all identify with a sense of ennui at the end of college. I'd definitely read something else by this author, and would recommend to novel readers who want something fresh. Also a good book for guys, probably.
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