By Doris May Lessing
The British writer writes approximately her homeland--from which she used to be exiled by means of the previous all-white government--discussing political corruption, AIDS, communal residing, and lots more and plenty extra. via the writer of The 5th Child. 35,000 first printing. $35,000 ad/promo. journey.
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Extra info for African Laughter: Four Visits to Zimbabwe
A peak had come forward and attracted to itself a lesser hill. A river had changed course and acquired a tributary I had simply not noticed. Perhaps there had been a different ‘view’, and I had been mistaken? No, because that hill, there, near the road, had not changed, and I had used it as a marker. Yet how I had laboured over that view, my eyes stretched wide in case a blink shifted a perspective or spoiled my attention, my mind set to receive and record. I was in a contest with Time, and I knew it.
I was there for five years and it did me harm: I am still learning how much harm. ’ made it impossible for my parents to know what went on there. Five years. Five years. Five child-years. What’s five years–when you’re grown up? Immersed in that time, Convent time, nun-time, with aeons to go before holidays came, which were a different time, equally long, endless, thank God, when I could be free and in the bush, I drowned in helplessness. Above all, I was abandoned by my parents. I was homesick to the point of physical illness: I knew why I was always ill at school, though they didn’t.
They said: ‘This happened, this is the truth’–but I knew that had happened, that was the truth. Someone trying to talk me out of what I knew was true, must have been the important thing that happened to me in my childhood, for I was continually holding fast to moments, when I said to myself, ‘Remember this. Remember what really happened. ’ Even now I hold a series of sharp little scenes, like photographs, or eidetic memory, which I refer to. So when I fought to retain a ‘view’, a perspective on a road, the little effort was only one on a long list.
African Laughter: Four Visits to Zimbabwe by Doris May Lessing