Set in contemporary Zimbabwe, this critically-lauded book is a collection of inventive short stories whose main characters sometimes recur as extras in others, though without the drawstring of an overall plot. It's politically intelligent, it's vivacious, it paints an against-odds sunny and intriguing world, is never boring, and attains consistent near-success — even rising, in its best chapter, to complete reader-satisfaction. The stories are in the main tragedies of either minor or major significance within contemporary Indigenous society, all told with a sporadic irony which, perhaps subversive of author-intent, tends to minimise the traumas we're called upon to witness: Petina Gappah is a lawyer who may have shared some eccentric case anecdotes with her peers, donning the armour of humour against any pain or shame in identification, or at least such is the mood of her prose here. She seems to be balanced, with a kind of earnest unease, on the random but hard-earned good fortune of an expat fence, but this is what inspires her insight. Some of the protagonists are tradition-bound and superstitious, some are post-colonially religious, others merely opportunistic, but all live in some degree of poverty under the cold and stifling rule of Robert Mugabe, who like many an African dictator, once raised a rebellion to redeem for the people all the wealth and power of the colonisers in the name of freedom, and then, having won in blood, decided to keep it all for himself and never give it up. Rotten Row is the capital Harare's legal precinct, and serves as the thematic link between the various crimes, misdemeanours and misfortunes. Every chapter brings a new scenario and cast of characters, some well-rounded and others sketchy, so that when in later chapters you begin to meet references to the fate of players past, your memory of them may have become vague, if you can even remember their names. The book, while engaging, humorous and smart, didn't grip me enough for any rereading to clarify (possibly due to that absence of a longform plot), but when you do recognise a reprise appearance, you're often rewarded with some fun, often tabloidish comedy. There's a lot of untranslated dialogue in Shona, and while it doesn't mar momentum for the non-Shona reader, it may kind of detach you from engagement. The tone throughout is that of an adult looking upon children, of someone sitting both inside and outside their world, but as you progress, you start to realise that under the satirical affection lies an author's despair at the absence of hope in these lives, at the existential injustice that destiny has visited upon the Zimbabwean people. The very last story is the most touching, because in it a character encounters and faces, with the help of whimsical circumstance, a moral decision. Though this linked anthology is called a novel, I'd eagerly welcome something closer to the definition of one from Petina Gappa, in which she might apply to a more cohesive work the narrative principles of Rotten Row's quite beautiful final parable.