Valzhyna MortMusic for the Dead and Resurrected: Poems

Abstract

editors, wishy-washy critics, unambitious readers, and authors lacking in talent but greedy for fame.” That quote might be a worthwhile point of departure for reading the book since it clearly establishes a point of view Ugrešić has not only on the world of literature but on a multitude of issues. Written between 2014 and 2018, the essays leave very few people and issues unscathed. Her book deals very much with displacement, exile, and statelessness. In fact, she went into exile from Croatia after being labeled a “witch” for her antinationalistic stance during the Yugoslav Wars. Stylistically, parts of The Age of Skin might remind readers of her novel Lend Me Your Character, especially the segment “Finishing Touches” within the chapter “Steffie Cvek in the Jaws of Life,” in which Ugrešić segments and/or gives subtitles to the chapters . The subtitled segments within the chapters in The Age of Skin are as diverse as the “Dentures” worn by the Bosnian Serb Ratko Mladić, found guilty of committing war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide in “Why We Love Movies about Apes,” to the brilliant chapter “The Scold’s Bridle,” in which Ugrešić revivifies the “law of Telemachus,” which is “identical to the classical model of the absence of women from the public, intellectual, creative, political , and media spheres” (see WLT, Sept. 2016, 36). It would be difficult (if not impossible) to reduce a work of such critical and creative breadth, but Ugrešić is a writer, and one can close by citing a line in which she quotes Zamyatin (in a letter to Stalin), in which the former states that “‘true literature ’ can exist only where it is created, not by diligent and trustworthy functionaries, but by madness, hermits, heretics, dreamers , rebels, and skeptics.” And, as it turns out, by Croatian expats. Mark Axelrod-Sokolov Chapman University Alain Mabanckou The Death of Comrade President Trans. Helen Stevenson. New York. New Press. 2020. 256 pages. IN 2015 ALAIN MABANCKOU crafted a modern folktale with Black Moses (see WLT, Nov. 2017, 70). The novel followed the titular child’s odyssey through one of the most violent periods in the Congo’s history. Despite the youthful perspective, Mabanckou’s deep connection with the plight still allowed the severity of Black Moses’s setting to resonate. In retrospect, however, some of the novel’s passages felt a little far removed, offsetting the delicate balance of timely reprieve and a distraction. The Death of Comrade President, Mabanckou ’s latest outing, provides a remedy, leaning less on convention and more on the realism that made pieces like Broken Glass so defining. Comrade President leans heavily into Mabanckou’s backgrounds, serving in part as a welcome expansion to his 2015 memoir , The Lights of Pointe-Noire (see WLT, Sept. 2016, 68). The novel traces Michel, a boy on the cusp of adolescence living with his father, Papa Roger, and one of his father’s wives, Maman Pauline. As the mounting pressure of academia and an education outside of his home rises, so too does the turmoil of the Congolese government . Shortly after the announcement of Comrade President Marien Ngouabi’s assassination, Michel’s family is thrown into turmoil as his family’s safety is compromised . This is further compounded when his dog, Mboua Mabé, runs away in panic. Between interpreting his parents’ tension and investigating the village’s back alleys for his pet, Michel begins to understand the symbols that have perpetuated an almost constant national strife. Mabanckou’s choice to interpret a day of cataclysm demonstrates his concern with connecting the plight of the Congo to an international audience. He does so without diminishing the severity, and his practice of weaving radio transcripts into Michel’s musings provides at least a theory of what forces have led to the discord. This digestion of information feels less akin to Black Moses and more so like a truncated parallel to the early movements of Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis. The only minor setback for Comrade President is its brevity. The novel proceeds to a fever pitch, with its falling action feeling like mere seconds. This does little to detract from the power of the novel, but...