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All human beings, says an African legend, have an animal double. Some doubles are benign, others wicked. This legend comes to life in Alain Mabanckou's outlandish, surreal, and charmingly nonchalantMemoirs of a Porcupine. When Kibandi, a boy living in a Congolese village, reaches the age of 11, his father takes him out into the night and forces him to drink a vile liquid from a jar that has been hidden for years in the earth. This is his initiation. From now on, he and his double, a porcupine, become accomplices in murder. They attack neighbors, fellow villagers, and people who simply cross their path, for reasons so slight that it is virtually impossible to establish connection between the killings. As he grows older, Kibandi relies on his double to act out his grizzly compulsions, until one day even the porcupine balks and turns instead to literary confession. Winner of the Prix Renaudot, France's equal to the National Book Award, Alain Mabanckou is considered one of the most talented writers today. He was selected by the French journalLire as one of fifty writers to watch this coming century. And as Peter Carey suggests, he "positions himself at the margins, tapping the tradition founded by Celine, Genet, and other subversive writers." In this superb and striking story, Mabanckou brings new power to magical realism, and is sure to excite American audiences nationwide.… (more)
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It may sound somewhat odd to say that a book about an ever-accelerating serial killer is humorous, even light, but that's exactly how I found it. The narrator's musing on Kibandi's missing moral compass and his sly reflections on the customs and foibles of both Westerners and Africans is told in a voice so conversational and engaging that it's if you're sitting in a room with a black sheep uncle who is telling you about the more colorful aspects of his life.
In fact, told entirely first person and meandering along using no punctuation other than commas, Mabanckou has captured a strong sense of the underlying oral tradition in this story. There's that sense of a fable where one is not asked to suspend disbelief entirely but to listen for the meaning. Or, perhaps, not a fable but a well-done satire. Either way, I enjoyed it quite a bit.