Status
Available
Call number
Publication
London, Allen Lane, 2001, Hardcover
Description
In 1957, Ryszard Kapuscinski arrived in Africa to witness the beginning of the end of colonial rule as the first African correspondent of Poland's state newspaper. From the early days of independence in Ghana to the ongoing ethnic genocide in Rwanda, Kapuscinski has crisscrossed vast distances pursuing the swift, and often violent, events that followed liberation. Kapuscinski hitchhikes with caravans, wanders the Sahara with nomads, and lives in the poverty-stricken slums of Nigeria. He wrestles a king cobra to the death and suffers through a bout of malaria. What emerges is an extraordinary depiction of Africa--not as a group of nations or geographic locations--but as a vibrant and frequently joyous montage of peoples, cultures, and encounters. Kapuscinski's trenchant observations, wry analysis and overwhelming humanity paint a remarkable portrait of the continent and its people. His unorthodox approach and profound respect for the people he meets challenge conventional understandings of the modern problems faced by Africa at the dawn of the twenty-first century.… (more)
Media reviews
As literature, “The Shadow of the Sun” is in its way magnificent. As analysis, it can be strange. Mr Kapuscinski's account of Idi Amin's rule is inaccurate and his history of Rwanda is botched. Mysteriously, he travels from Djibouti to Gondar by way of Ndjamena: two sides of a huge triangle. Mr
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Kapuscinski tells it as it felt, rather than as it was, describing—sometimes, it seems, distastefully relishing—whatever is bizarre, humiliating, disgusting, exotic. Show Less
The word 'reportage' appears twice in the jacket endorsements of this fine narrative study of African events and people, of African conditions and geography, by Ryszard Kapuscinski. According to John le Carré, Kapuscinski is the 'conjurer extraordinary of modern reportage'. According to Michael
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Ignatieff, who is no slouch in the same department, he has raised reportage 'to the status of literature'. Show Less
He is lyrically succinct - in the stupor of noon a village was "like a submarine at the bottom of the ocean: it was there, but it emitted no signals, soundless, motionless" - and often hysterically funny.
Ryszard Kapuscinski has led an extraordinary life. Born in 1932 in the marshlands of eastern Poland and raised in poverty, he became, in the 1950's, Poland's most celebrated foreign correspondent. For decades he roamed the globe on a laughably tight budget, living mostly in Africa, Asia and Latin
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America, filing stories for the Polish press agency PAP. It was a hairy beat. According to his American publisher, Kapuscinski ''witnessed 27 coups and revolutions; and was sentenced to death four times.'' Show Less
Mr. Kapuscinski never loses his affection for the people whose lives he witnesses or his awe at the magnificence of the African spectacle, its oceanic size and variety, the beauty of its landscapes, the heavy weight of its patience and its spirituality. But as the vignettes roll on one after the
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other, Africa, in Mr. Kapuscinski's version of it, becomes ever more afflicted, more of a disaster. We do not learn in this book what happened in Ghana after the first hopeful years, or what became of Mr. Baako, but in his fragmentary, episodic way, Mr. Kapuscinski shows a continent sliding into governmental gangsterism, dependence on foreign aid, murderous tyrannies and urban populations with nothing to do. Show Less
Despite its occasionally mesmerizing stories, Kapuscinski's book is fundamentally flawed with its cultural-difference racism and its speculations about the mind of "the African." This book is akin to Robert Kaplan's Balkan Ghosts, which dispensed essentialist conjectures about "the Balkan mind" and
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"ancient hatreds," and which allegedly made Clinton loath to do anything about Bosnia. One shudders to think what the current president—assuming that he would read a book—might learn from The Shadow of the Sun. Show Less
Salman Rushdie a dit de Ryszard Kapuscinski qu’il était le créateur « d’un mélange époustouflant de reportage et d’art ». Ce qui est sûr, c’est que le journaliste et écrivain polonais offre avec Ebène l’un des meilleurs livres jamais parus sur l’Afrique. Une Afrique
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intensément vécue avec le petit peuple des bidonvilles, avec les camionneurs du Sahara, avec les paysans de la savane, en bref une Afrique qui n’a rien à voir avec celle des hôtels climatisés que fréquentent les grands reporters. Show Less
User reviews
LibraryThing member pingdjip
Kapuscinski starts out as a complete newby, an ignorant stranger, when he arrives in Ghana in 1958. For me as a reader it felt like I could participate in all the experiences in the following decades that built up his knowledge of Africa and the Africans.
To a large extent this is due to his style,
But it’s not just style and composition. It’s also how he combines the impartial eye of the anthropologist with feelings of genuine friendship. His feelings are always present: between the lines, moderately, not disturbing his observations.
In the sixties a moderate optimism prevails. Ok, he reports about political violence in Zanzibar and Nigeria, but that’s nothing compared to later developments. For Kapuscinki himself there is a certain delight: it’s working out, he is actually getting to know the people that intrigued him so much. He even seems to like it when he gets malaria. Ok, it hurts, but at least now he knows what this African decease feels like. Moreover his fysical vulnerability seems to demolish the walls of racism: the Tanzanians around him start to trust this sickly white stranger.
From the seventies onwards things get nastier. Kapuscinski explains the machinery of tribal violence, warlords and bayaye: the rootless ex-villagers who now crowd the cities, without jobs, without possessions, just hanging around hungry.
The low point for me was his account of Liberia in the nineties, where one dictator succeeded the other. The events seemed to be propelled by a sort of mindless, random cruelty. Reading this I felt like the narrator, Kapuscinski, who keeps his feelings implicit, was for the first time really desillusioned and bitter.
The chapters afterwards seemed to try and soften the picture a bit, focussing on village life and religion. But the images of cynical warlords and hopeless child armies were humming in the background.
I do not often read about this kind of misery. I can only take it from a writer I trust, whose intelligence, commitment and taste make it somehow bearable.
To a large extent this is due to his style,
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he can really evoke situations. He doesn’t mind spending two paragraphs on someone just sitting in the shadow. Why is he sitting there? What is he thinking? Where did he come from? Kapuscinski also tells you what he doesn’t know, what he wonders about, what he still can’t understand even if people explain. But it’s not just style and composition. It’s also how he combines the impartial eye of the anthropologist with feelings of genuine friendship. His feelings are always present: between the lines, moderately, not disturbing his observations.
In the sixties a moderate optimism prevails. Ok, he reports about political violence in Zanzibar and Nigeria, but that’s nothing compared to later developments. For Kapuscinki himself there is a certain delight: it’s working out, he is actually getting to know the people that intrigued him so much. He even seems to like it when he gets malaria. Ok, it hurts, but at least now he knows what this African decease feels like. Moreover his fysical vulnerability seems to demolish the walls of racism: the Tanzanians around him start to trust this sickly white stranger.
From the seventies onwards things get nastier. Kapuscinski explains the machinery of tribal violence, warlords and bayaye: the rootless ex-villagers who now crowd the cities, without jobs, without possessions, just hanging around hungry.
The low point for me was his account of Liberia in the nineties, where one dictator succeeded the other. The events seemed to be propelled by a sort of mindless, random cruelty. Reading this I felt like the narrator, Kapuscinski, who keeps his feelings implicit, was for the first time really desillusioned and bitter.
The chapters afterwards seemed to try and soften the picture a bit, focussing on village life and religion. But the images of cynical warlords and hopeless child armies were humming in the background.
I do not often read about this kind of misery. I can only take it from a writer I trust, whose intelligence, commitment and taste make it somehow bearable.
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LibraryThing member jwhenderson
Last fall I read Travels with Herodotus by Ryszard Kapuscinski, the Polish journalist. It was his final book (he died in January, 2007) and I enjoyed it very much, having recently read Herodotus' Histories upon which he draws extensively. So it was with great anticipation that I looked forward to
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reading earlier works by Ryszard Kapuscinski. As an introduction to the mosaic of life that is known as "Africa" The Shadow of the Sun did not disappoint. The book consists of loosely connected essays on the travels and specific experiences of the author interspersed with brief historical commentaries. The looseness of the content is linked together through recurring themes such as the Sun of the title, the importance of minerals and elements, such as water in the Sahara, and the pervasive violence of both nature and man. The latter is evidenced by the presence of "Warlords" in several countries and the recurrence of tribal attacks of blacks on blacks leading at one extreme to examples of genocide as happened in Rwanda. The ubiquity of oppression of one group upon other(s) groups, again both black, was striking and the existence of black on black apartheid (before it ever occurred in the Republic of South Africa) was both illuminating and disillusioning.In a book as much about the plastic water container as the warlord and preferring the African shanty town to the Manhattan skyscraper as a monument to human achievement, what Kapuściński, the author of Shah of Shahs describes is not just Africa, which he claims does not exist except geographically, but more a distillation of life itself, through its religiosity, its trees, the frightening abundance of youth, sun that "curdles the blood" and terrorising, ruling armies that fall in a day. A couple of minor criticisms: the chronology in the book was uncertain at times, infuriatingly so; and, the book would have benefitted from a map for reference as the episodic quality of the content led the reader to and fro across the continent. Kapuscinski is an excellent writer and a literary journalist. He is also a brave man who went into places and faced situations that appeared quite dangerous. His readers benefit from his adventurous personality. This excursion into his world makes me even more interested in reading other examples from his oeuvre. Show Less
LibraryThing member DLSmithies
I'm giving this book 5 stars, because of all the things I've read about Africa, this is probably both the best-written and the most enlightening. It's quite simply a must-read, if only for the 'Lecture on Rwanda' - in 15 pages, Kapuscinski manages to give such a clear, cogent explanation of that
That said, I really have to criticise Penguin for not placing the articles in any sort of context. Each one appears simply as a chapter, without any indication of when or in what form each was published - so when, for example, Kapuscinski writes that the civil war in Sudan "is said to have claimed a million lives by now", the reader is clueless as to when that is. I still haven't worked out how the articles are ordered - it could be chronological, or it could be by country or region. It's a mystery!
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country's troubled history that it left me in awe of my own previous ignorance. I can't understand why this wasn't on my African Politics reading lists at university (maybe it was and I just didn't notice!).That said, I really have to criticise Penguin for not placing the articles in any sort of context. Each one appears simply as a chapter, without any indication of when or in what form each was published - so when, for example, Kapuscinski writes that the civil war in Sudan "is said to have claimed a million lives by now", the reader is clueless as to when that is. I still haven't worked out how the articles are ordered - it could be chronological, or it could be by country or region. It's a mystery!
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LibraryThing member pamelad
Kapuscinski arrived in Africa in 1957, the first Polish journalist to be based there. He lives in the midst of the local people, catches malaria then, in hisdebilitated state, tuberculosis. He struggles with the fierce heat as he travels through sub-Sahara Africa, where a 120 km trip can take three
A brilliant book.
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days. He avoids the comfortable suburbs of the affluent foreign correspondents as he tries to experience the Africa that they never see. Kapuscinski's articles cover the wars in Rwanda and Eritrea, the coup d'etat in Nigeria, the disintegration of Liberia, with the insight gained from forty years in Africa, seeking to understand.A brilliant book.
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LibraryThing member JimmyChanga
Kapuscinski, a Polish reporter, writes about his first-hand experiences in many African countries around the end of colonialism. I was struck by some of the less dramatic things... like in a coup d'etat, how he describes the darkness and silence. I never thought of darkness and silence. How could I
The darkness was so profound that his silhouette ahead of us appeared and disappeared like a phantom. Finally, we sensed boards beneath our feet--it was probably the pier. The old man whispered that we should walk down the steps to the boat. What steps? What boat? p. 94
Earlier, he talks about the locals who go through this kind of stuff often:
Ordinary people here treat political cataclysms--coups d'etat, military takeovers, revolutions, and wars--as phenomena belonging to the realm of nature. They approach them with exactly the same apathetic resignation and fatalism as they would a tempest. One can do nothing about them; one must simply wait them out, hiding under the roof, peering out from time to time to observe the sky--has the lightning ceased, are the clouds departing? If yes, then one can step outside once again and resume that which was momentarily interrupted--work, a journey, sitting in the sun. p. 91
In fact, waiting around seems to be the norm, because the African thinks of time as defined by the event happening whereas the European thinks of time as a separate entity that they must bend their lives to fit. So the African sits around waiting for these events to happen...
What does this dull waiting consist of? People know what to expect; therefore, they try to settle themselves in as comfortably as possible, in the best possible place. Sometimes they lie down, sometimes they sit on the ground, or on a stone, or squat. They stop talking. A waiting group is mute. It emits no sound. The body goes limp, droops shrinks. The muscles relax, the neck stiffens... I have observed for hours on end crowds of people in this state of inanimate waiting, a kind of profound physiological sleep: They do not eat, they do not drink, they do not urinate; they react neither to the mercilessly scorching sun, nor to the aggressive, voracious flies that cover their eyelids and lips. What, in the meantime, is going on inside their heads? p. 18
OK so I'm quoting a lot. So sue me. The fact is, there are so many interesting passages, little surprising bits. The book is full of great observations as well as, every once in a while, panning back to tell of the history of a tribe or of a country. Each country he writes about is given individuality, because there is immense diversity, as he says in the beginning of the book: "Only with the greatest simplification, for the sake of convenience, can we say 'Africa'. In reality, except as a geographical appellation, Africa does not exist."
The best chapters, for me, were the ones on Zanzibar and Rwanda, since they really gave me a context to understand some of what is going on. But all the chapters are good, and they all have different focuses.
What really comes across clearly is that, and this is going to sound obvious, any kind of outside interference, without the kind of understanding of the many different ethnic groups and cultures here, is going to end badly. So often France or England or someone comes in to support one leader over another. It makes me so angry cause I see it in the news even today, just recently with the Ivory Coast elections. Not that there won't be bloodshed or other nastiness if nobody takes sides, (although often it means more high tech weaponry to do the bloodshed with) but it all seems so much more escalated when the world gets involved. And why does everyone think they can get involved in Africa's business anyway? It's so damn presumptuous, to think we know better, when usually we're just supporting our guy because he'd be easier to get our agenda through.
What this book really makes clear is that we don't know better. In fact, we can hardly relate at all to most of what goes on here. How can we relate to the tribe whose whole existence relies on one mango tree? Or a tribe who believes that if your truck breaks down, it's because someone from another tribe cast a spell on it, and not because your truck needed maintenance? Or the tribe who always believes that someone from within the same tribe cast a spell whenever something bad happens, and thus always lives in a state of fear--father afraid of daughter, son afraid of mother? Anyway, there are too many examples to quote.
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not have thought of darkness and silence? Here we are trying to escape the country, and I never thought of darkness and silence!The darkness was so profound that his silhouette ahead of us appeared and disappeared like a phantom. Finally, we sensed boards beneath our feet--it was probably the pier. The old man whispered that we should walk down the steps to the boat. What steps? What boat? p. 94
Earlier, he talks about the locals who go through this kind of stuff often:
Ordinary people here treat political cataclysms--coups d'etat, military takeovers, revolutions, and wars--as phenomena belonging to the realm of nature. They approach them with exactly the same apathetic resignation and fatalism as they would a tempest. One can do nothing about them; one must simply wait them out, hiding under the roof, peering out from time to time to observe the sky--has the lightning ceased, are the clouds departing? If yes, then one can step outside once again and resume that which was momentarily interrupted--work, a journey, sitting in the sun. p. 91
In fact, waiting around seems to be the norm, because the African thinks of time as defined by the event happening whereas the European thinks of time as a separate entity that they must bend their lives to fit. So the African sits around waiting for these events to happen...
What does this dull waiting consist of? People know what to expect; therefore, they try to settle themselves in as comfortably as possible, in the best possible place. Sometimes they lie down, sometimes they sit on the ground, or on a stone, or squat. They stop talking. A waiting group is mute. It emits no sound. The body goes limp, droops shrinks. The muscles relax, the neck stiffens... I have observed for hours on end crowds of people in this state of inanimate waiting, a kind of profound physiological sleep: They do not eat, they do not drink, they do not urinate; they react neither to the mercilessly scorching sun, nor to the aggressive, voracious flies that cover their eyelids and lips. What, in the meantime, is going on inside their heads? p. 18
OK so I'm quoting a lot. So sue me. The fact is, there are so many interesting passages, little surprising bits. The book is full of great observations as well as, every once in a while, panning back to tell of the history of a tribe or of a country. Each country he writes about is given individuality, because there is immense diversity, as he says in the beginning of the book: "Only with the greatest simplification, for the sake of convenience, can we say 'Africa'. In reality, except as a geographical appellation, Africa does not exist."
The best chapters, for me, were the ones on Zanzibar and Rwanda, since they really gave me a context to understand some of what is going on. But all the chapters are good, and they all have different focuses.
What really comes across clearly is that, and this is going to sound obvious, any kind of outside interference, without the kind of understanding of the many different ethnic groups and cultures here, is going to end badly. So often France or England or someone comes in to support one leader over another. It makes me so angry cause I see it in the news even today, just recently with the Ivory Coast elections. Not that there won't be bloodshed or other nastiness if nobody takes sides, (although often it means more high tech weaponry to do the bloodshed with) but it all seems so much more escalated when the world gets involved. And why does everyone think they can get involved in Africa's business anyway? It's so damn presumptuous, to think we know better, when usually we're just supporting our guy because he'd be easier to get our agenda through.
What this book really makes clear is that we don't know better. In fact, we can hardly relate at all to most of what goes on here. How can we relate to the tribe whose whole existence relies on one mango tree? Or a tribe who believes that if your truck breaks down, it's because someone from another tribe cast a spell on it, and not because your truck needed maintenance? Or the tribe who always believes that someone from within the same tribe cast a spell whenever something bad happens, and thus always lives in a state of fear--father afraid of daughter, son afraid of mother? Anyway, there are too many examples to quote.
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LibraryThing member roblong
A series of 'reportage' essays by a Polish reporter who spent a large part of 40 years in Africa, starting in 1958. The essays range around the centre of the continent (the north African, Mediterranean countries are not discussed, ditto South Africa), often sketches of everyday life and the
This is a brilliant book. Absolutely fascinating and informative as well as entertaining - some of the scenes are as dramatic as anything I've read in fiction or non (one decidedly terrifying encounter with a cobra in particular), others are interesting vignettes about life in lands very different from my own. His writing is great (in translation) and the whole thing is a real pleasure to read.
Only one thing prevents me giving this all five stars. Some reading around this book (his wiki page, obituaries from when he died in 2007 etc) - Kapuściński is clearly a controversial figure, partly for reasons that, while important, are not really relevant to this book (his supposed collaboration with the Polish communist government) and perhaps a touch unfair (many African writers seem to dislike his 'European' view of their continent...but he is European, and that's the way he sees it, right or wrong). A significant issue, however, are accusations that some of his stories might be embellished, or some outright invented. None of the stories in this book are mentioned in the accusations I've read, but it is a big proviso in a book posing as reportage. Probably not coincidentally, a lot of the charges seem to have been made since Kapuściński died, and without him here to defend himself, it's hard to give a definitive verdict.
Approached with the proviso in mind that some of the tales might be a little taller in the telling than in real life, however, I really can't recommend this enough - incredibly enjoyable.
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experience of being in Africa and travelling from place to place, but also including his experience of political storms - of Idi Amin, Rwanda, and Liberia.This is a brilliant book. Absolutely fascinating and informative as well as entertaining - some of the scenes are as dramatic as anything I've read in fiction or non (one decidedly terrifying encounter with a cobra in particular), others are interesting vignettes about life in lands very different from my own. His writing is great (in translation) and the whole thing is a real pleasure to read.
Only one thing prevents me giving this all five stars. Some reading around this book (his wiki page, obituaries from when he died in 2007 etc) - Kapuściński is clearly a controversial figure, partly for reasons that, while important, are not really relevant to this book (his supposed collaboration with the Polish communist government) and perhaps a touch unfair (many African writers seem to dislike his 'European' view of their continent...but he is European, and that's the way he sees it, right or wrong). A significant issue, however, are accusations that some of his stories might be embellished, or some outright invented. None of the stories in this book are mentioned in the accusations I've read, but it is a big proviso in a book posing as reportage. Probably not coincidentally, a lot of the charges seem to have been made since Kapuściński died, and without him here to defend himself, it's hard to give a definitive verdict.
Approached with the proviso in mind that some of the tales might be a little taller in the telling than in real life, however, I really can't recommend this enough - incredibly enjoyable.
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LibraryThing member larryerick
This book was very much like finding a hidden treasure for me. From the very beginning paragraphs, I could already sense something very special. The author had an uncanny ability to let all your senses activate from his narrative descriptions. Not only could you "picture" the settings, you smell
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the dust, feel the humidity, even hear the silences. The book covers a great many parts of Africa over a series of years. Despite having already read some books about traveling across Africa and having watched several movies about bicycle and motorcycle treks across much of Africa, this book was a total revelation beyond what those other sources had provided. It's impossible to mention a favorite vignette. The bus ride where passengers have to counter lean together to avoid sliding off into an abyss? The hotel room literally pulsating with bugs? The town economy built on constantly and repeatedly rescuing motor vehicles from the depths of a mud hole? Or the many stories about the scalding hot Africa sun that makes your hands sweat just reading about it? Without question, I will reread this book before traveling to Africa...and I will undoubtedly take it along the journey to reread again along the way. Very highly recommended. Show Less
LibraryThing member maxairborne
I was skeptical going in, thinking what could a white man possibly have to teach about Africa. Nevertheless, it was recommended and gifted to me by someone I respect, and so I eventually pulled it out from under the rest of my to-read pile and dove in. The author's cultural humility was apparent,
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and his sense of adventure combined with keen insight made this a very gratifying read. From the first pages I became riveted by this gorgeous, deeply human look into the vastness of African life and history. This book has filled me with a feeling of awe as I begin to comprehend the depth and breadth of colonialism's impact.I will now proceed to seek out the tremendous catalog of other books by Ryszard Kapuściński. Show Less
LibraryThing member Bookoholic73
I picked up this book at a friend´s because of the title... and I remember not being able to put it down. I thought that the flow of the writing was magnificent, but was was captivated by the content. This is a book that moves and touches, and several of the observations and adventures have stayed
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with me. This is a book worth returning to. Show Less
LibraryThing member docliz
I really enjoyed reading this book. Beautifully written, not flowery but flows with vivid descriptions. You can sense his love for the continent and it's peoples. I love his ability to handle the incongruities, the diversity and so paints a picture that feels real and poignant. He deals a bit with
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the diversity of faith on the continent but doesn't really reflect the level of joy that is a part of this nation. Show Less
LibraryThing member iftyzaidi
Polish journalist Ryszard Kapuściński lived and wrote about Africa intermittently from the 1950s to 90s. This is a collection of impressions that covers some of the mosaic of different cultures, nations, countries and conflicts he came across. Its well written, never condescending, insightful and
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entertaining. Some of the chapters, such as the one on Liberia, the one of Rawanda, Ethiopia and a small poor village along the river Niger that he visits are particularly outstanding. Show Less
LibraryThing member bookerTB
The Cooling Hell, pg 233, is an account of Liberia, and is stunningly written.
LibraryThing member specimens
This is one of the books that gives acces to a world that is new to most white westerners, a book that provides us with close ups of the African reality, mediated by the accounts of the experiences of the author. Kapuściński died om January 23, 2007. Because of all the stories he left, he is
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missed every day. Show Less
LibraryThing member lisacronista
All of us have dreams that we may be shy about sharing while attempting to fulfill them. The narrative in this book is my dream. The Shadow of the Sun, written by Polish jounalist, Ryszard Kapuscinski, is his first-person account of Africa. Starting in 1957, he traveled from nation to nation, often
"I traveled extensively, avoiding official routes, palaces, important personages, and high-level politics. Instead, I opted to hitch rides on passing trucks, wander with nomades through the desert, be the guest of peasants of the tropical savannah. Their life is endless toil, a torment they endure with astonishing patience and good humor."
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witnessing the horrors of genocide and starvation but other times enjoying the humorous moments and the friendship of the people. All he carried were the clothes on his back, a small knapsack, and a notebook. For months, all he did was interview and report."I traveled extensively, avoiding official routes, palaces, important personages, and high-level politics. Instead, I opted to hitch rides on passing trucks, wander with nomades through the desert, be the guest of peasants of the tropical savannah. Their life is endless toil, a torment they endure with astonishing patience and good humor."
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LibraryThing member bas615
I was expecting great things when I picked this up and my expectations were surpassed on every account. This book is a treasure. Kapuscinski proves himself a master at perceiving the subtleties and complexities of the human experience. There are moments of high adventure here but at the end the
The sun and heat ceaselessly beat down upon him as he looks into the nooks and crannies of this immense continent. It is impossible to describe all of Africa and Kapuscinski does not attempt to but his snapshots of individual points expose much. Far and away the best nonfiction I have yet read on Africa. He put himself where the story was and for all the price he paid personally, be it disease or hunger or at the end of a gun, he has produced a book that should be read by all.
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sheer humanity that is exposed is what you take away.The sun and heat ceaselessly beat down upon him as he looks into the nooks and crannies of this immense continent. It is impossible to describe all of Africa and Kapuscinski does not attempt to but his snapshots of individual points expose much. Far and away the best nonfiction I have yet read on Africa. He put himself where the story was and for all the price he paid personally, be it disease or hunger or at the end of a gun, he has produced a book that should be read by all.
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LibraryThing member fourbears
Kapuściński was a Polish journalist who died in 2007, and who spent time in Africa between the late 1950ies and the 1990ies. Africa was not his only beat, but when he spent time there he spent time with the people and shared their lives when he could. He was the first Polish foreign correspondent
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to cover Africa and he was always seriously underfunded compared with those representing the big European and American publications and agencies. What he lacked in funds he made up in ingenuity and a willingness to share in the lives of Africans with the result that he got the big stories (a coup in Zanzibar is the subject of one piece) but also the stories about the little people. He went to visit friends in remote villages where there wasn't enough to eat. He traveled in war zones. He met the dictators and sadists who were independent Africa's first rulers. Once traveling with Greek correspondent in the region of Lake Victoria, he took refuge in a hut where he collapsed, exhausted, into a bunk only to discover a huge Egyptian cobra coiled underneath. He and the Greek threw their weight behind a huge metal container (their only weapon) and tried to crush it. The canister did not cut into the snake and they had to wrestle it to death. He got cerebral malaria, nearly died, and lived with the after affects for years.The pieces in this book are beautifully written, undoubtedly due in part of the translator. Not like journalistic pieces one usually reads, with their pyramid structure and journalistic phrases and short cuts. Kapuściński's scope was broader, from the latest war or coup to serious attempts to characterize African people. He put himself on the line in every piece—it was personal, heartfelt and wise. He engaged seriously with people, didn't just watch from afar or "interview the participants".One learns a great deal about the history of Africa—and why in a sense there was no history until the Europeans started to divide Africa up into colonies and zones of interest. Why there'd never be a history because there were no documents at all, only the oral stories the people told. The chapter on Rwanda is worth the purchase of the book alone: Kapuściński put the genocide in a context which none of the several books I read on the subject of the Rwandan genocide was able to do. Similarly, another long chapter on a visit to Liberia developed a context for the awful civil wars which began when an army sergeant took charge and carved up the President in his bed—without even a plan for what he'd do when he became leader—and was eventually carved up himself. That essay ends when Kapuściński is allowed to travel up country and meet the tribal people (which the ruling Americo-Liberians called aboriginals when I visited in 1965). They are coming into Monrovia across a bridge and Kapuściński sees a naked man with a Kalashnikov, the others carefully stepping out of his way. "A madman with a Kalashnikov" is how he, quite appropriately, ends the essay.Kapuściński's focus in this book is mostly East Africa and the Sahara and Sanhel, a few mentions of West Africa, not much of Southern Africa. Not much about the more "civilized" parts of Northern Africa. Show Less
LibraryThing member emed0s
I was reaching the final third of this book, filled with chronological ordered pieces spanning the author's career, thinking my review would speak about how the writing improves and improves and the stories are always meaningful but then ...
Then I read the piece about Liberia, in it there's a
I know non-fiction is never 100% non-fiction, the author's point of view plays a role, etc. But this is too much, it made me wonder what was real and what not of the rest of the pieces, and sadly it will keep my away from the rest of, the once very promising, author's books.
Then I read the piece about Liberia, in it there's a
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description of the torture, more precisely of the video showing the torture, of Samuel Doe, the local dictator. As terrible as the scene was, the writing is masterful so I decided to look for the video on youtube. And there's the video, and it barely resembles what Kapuscinki wrote. Where's the blood? the terrible screams? the looks of the soldiers? and so many other small details that are missing.I know non-fiction is never 100% non-fiction, the author's point of view plays a role, etc. But this is too much, it made me wonder what was real and what not of the rest of the pieces, and sadly it will keep my away from the rest of, the once very promising, author's books.
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LibraryThing member piefuchs
When Kapuscinski was sent to Africa as the sole represtative of Polish journalism he kept two note books - one for news and one for observations. Due to both his personality and his relatively meagre funds - he tried not to live amoung ex pats. Shadow of the Sun contains snippets from the
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observation note book and is formed from essays spanning a number of countries in moments of revolution and everyday life. The collection serves as an incredibly moving portrait of Africa - its people, its landscape, and, the constant enemy, its climate. This book is full of unforgettable descriptions - cockroaches the size of turtles, western journalists caught in a small boat in a monsoon, dictators ears being chopped off... It is equally full of unforgettable ideas. As an author Kapuscinski is always able to reduce a situation to its essence - with the root of the most complex of historical circumstances being described in two sentences. It is amazing - and unencumbered by a a list of politically correct exceptions and counter arguments. These tidbits could be constued as over simplification, but I would present them as the opposite - the distillation of a myriad of intricate connections into a single point. This book will merely leave you wanting to read more aboout Africa. Show Less
LibraryThing member JBreedlove
A look back on the authors career covering events and locations within Africa.
LibraryThing member B.Mayaluna
This is a collection of essays from a foreign correspondent's experiences and perspectives in many African countries from the initial days of independence through the 90's and all the changes that he witnessed over 40 years. I enjoyed Ryszard Kapuściński's descriptions of the landscapes,
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historical events, travel tales and international politics that are scattered through this book of essays primarily about the colorful people he encountered all over the continent. Show Less
LibraryThing member TrgLlyLibrarian
Fantastic insights into the cultures, politics, wonders, and problems of the continent of Africa. The observations were made over the course of decades, which provides historical perspective as well. The book was written in the mid-to-late 90s, so I wonder how much has changed in the 15-20 years
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since. Kapuscinski has a way of making his observations vivid, even poetic. The last two pages are masterful and touching. Show Less
LibraryThing member soylentgreen23
Kapuscinski has become something of an idol for me in recent years; I wish I could follow in his footsteps and explore the world, writing about everything I saw.
LibraryThing member billt568
beginning with the jubilation surrounding Independence in Ghana and ending in Hell scapes of 90s Liberia and Eritrea, this is a fairly grim journalists travelogue in which most major countries of Africa are somewhat poetically described from the sixties through the mid-90s, notably absent being
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Congo and South Africa. good enough that I would read his other books Show Less
LibraryThing member mbmackay
Memoirs of a Polish journalist's travels in Africe from the 1960s to 1990s.
The writer had access to the presidents and generals and ambassadors, but seems much more interested in the ordinary people. He travels rough, sleeps rough and eats rough - but gets to the heart of the ordinary people he
The writing is spare and captivating. He writes in the first person, but without ego - he only appears in his stories as a means of illuminating some aspect of life in Africa.
I was enthralled.
The writer had access to the presidents and generals and ambassadors, but seems much more interested in the ordinary people. He travels rough, sleeps rough and eats rough - but gets to the heart of the ordinary people he
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mixes with.The writing is spare and captivating. He writes in the first person, but without ego - he only appears in his stories as a means of illuminating some aspect of life in Africa.
I was enthralled.
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LibraryThing member alexbolding
It may be difficult not to love this man, yet his books about Africa are rather ethnocentric with plenty of condescending paternalism in it.
Kapuscinski has charm. He is a romantic. He appreciates how small, everyday acts of kindness can form the basis of a good story. Yet his tendency to
Often one is tempted to shout out – Man! Start reading some books! For instance when he claims that apartheid was invented by Boers in South Africa (correct) and next observes that you can see it anywhere in Africa (not quite correct). How about reading some stuff about Lord Lugard and the British system of dual rule? Ever heard of segregation, British style? How about Mamdani’s book on Citizen and subject?
Yet in mediation for this blatant ignorance, Kapuscinski can be unconventional and charming in taking on old debates. For instance when he is accused of being white and thus guilty of suppressing Africans, robbing their countries blind, his response is – Why, me? ‘You were colonized? We, Poles, were also! For one hundred and thirty years we were a colony of three foreign powers. White ones, too.’. That’s Kapuscinski’s charm and humour. Interpersonally he must have been a joy to interact or work with.
The part of African society he has very well understood is the importance of social relations and exchange of gifts (sometimes of a very different order: something of symbolic value can be exchanged with something of material value). The story about the hole in Onitsha, I like best. Here Kapuscinski reveals something that few people realize: the emergent nature of buzzing activity, and the tendency to help fate a bit, if one can. Basically in the story Kapuscinski creates suspense by telling us about the nature and joy of open markets in Africa, of which the one in Onitsha, Nigeria, is purportedly the biggest. Driving there, Kapuscinski gets stuck in a long traffic jam. He walks ahead to assess what is blocking the (only) road to the market: a big hole, in which trucks and cars get stuck in the mud, and have to be hauled out by groups of young men (for a fee). Around this very hole a hive of activities occurs – street sellers making a buck, young men ganging up to be the next team to make a buck with hauling out cars, news collectors, everybody coalesces around the hole. Kapuscinski assesses the pace, and decides to turn back: it will take him three days to make it through the hole that separates him from this famous market place. He returns but not without catching the butt of the story: the hole moves, every now and then it appears in a different neighbourhood, thus spreading wealth and activity across different parts of town.
Kapuscinski has charm. He is a romantic. He appreciates how small, everyday acts of kindness can form the basis of a good story. Yet his tendency to
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exaggerate, generalize and sensationalize in a superficial way reflects his journalistic gaze, which scans for the exceptional, news-worthy at the expense of a full understanding, a complete picture, a critical take on ‘the obvious’. Often one is tempted to shout out – Man! Start reading some books! For instance when he claims that apartheid was invented by Boers in South Africa (correct) and next observes that you can see it anywhere in Africa (not quite correct). How about reading some stuff about Lord Lugard and the British system of dual rule? Ever heard of segregation, British style? How about Mamdani’s book on Citizen and subject?
Yet in mediation for this blatant ignorance, Kapuscinski can be unconventional and charming in taking on old debates. For instance when he is accused of being white and thus guilty of suppressing Africans, robbing their countries blind, his response is – Why, me? ‘You were colonized? We, Poles, were also! For one hundred and thirty years we were a colony of three foreign powers. White ones, too.’. That’s Kapuscinski’s charm and humour. Interpersonally he must have been a joy to interact or work with.
The part of African society he has very well understood is the importance of social relations and exchange of gifts (sometimes of a very different order: something of symbolic value can be exchanged with something of material value). The story about the hole in Onitsha, I like best. Here Kapuscinski reveals something that few people realize: the emergent nature of buzzing activity, and the tendency to help fate a bit, if one can. Basically in the story Kapuscinski creates suspense by telling us about the nature and joy of open markets in Africa, of which the one in Onitsha, Nigeria, is purportedly the biggest. Driving there, Kapuscinski gets stuck in a long traffic jam. He walks ahead to assess what is blocking the (only) road to the market: a big hole, in which trucks and cars get stuck in the mud, and have to be hauled out by groups of young men (for a fee). Around this very hole a hive of activities occurs – street sellers making a buck, young men ganging up to be the next team to make a buck with hauling out cars, news collectors, everybody coalesces around the hole. Kapuscinski assesses the pace, and decides to turn back: it will take him three days to make it through the hole that separates him from this famous market place. He returns but not without catching the butt of the story: the hole moves, every now and then it appears in a different neighbourhood, thus spreading wealth and activity across different parts of town.
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Awards
Language
Original language
Polish
Original publication date
1998
Physical description
325 p.; 24.1 cm
ISBN
071399455X / 9780713994551
Other editions
The Shadow of the Sun - My African Life by Ryszard Kapuściński (Paperback)