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Os Intérpretes
Os intérpretes são um grupo de jovens intelectuais nigerianos que procuram «interpretar-se» a si mesmos, assim como a sociedade em que vivem. As suas vidas cruzam-se nas salas da universidade, nos escritórios e, sobretudo, na noite. Pouco a pouco, vamos tomando conhecimento do seu passado, das suas crenças, das suas crises e dos seus amores.
318 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1965
70 people are currently reading
2603 people want to read
About the author
Wole Soyinka
221 books1,209 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.
Akinwande Oluwole Babatunde Soyinka, known as Wole Soyinka, is a Nigerian playwright, novelist, poet, and essayist in the English language. He was awarded the 1986 Nobel Prize in Literature for his "wide cultural perspective and... poetic overtones fashioning the drama of existence", the first sub-Saharan African to be honoured in that category.
Soyinka was born into a Yoruba family in Abeokuta. In 1954, he attended Government College in Ibadan, and subsequently University College Ibadan and the University of Leeds in England. After studying in Nigeria and the UK, he worked with the Royal Court Theatre in London. He went on to write plays that were produced in both countries, in theatres and on radio. He took an active role in Nigeria's political history and its campaign for independence from British colonial rule. In 1965, he seized the Western Nigeria Broadcasting Service studio and broadcast a demand for the cancellation of the Western Nigeria Regional Elections. In 1967, during the Nigerian Civil War, he was arrested by the federal government of General Yakubu Gowon and put in solitary confinement for two years, for volunteering to be a non-government mediating actor.
Soyinka has been a strong critic of successive Nigerian (and African at large) governments, especially the country's many military dictators, as well as other political tyrannies, including the Mugabe regime in Zimbabwe. Much of his writing has been concerned with "the oppressive boot and the irrelevance of the colour of the foot that wears it". During the regime of General Sani Abacha (1993–98), Soyinka escaped from Nigeria on a motorcycle via the "NADECO Route". Abacha later proclaimed a death sentence against him "in absentia". With civilian rule restored to Nigeria in 1999, Soyinka returned to his nation.
In Nigeria, Soyinka was a Professor of Comparative literature (1975 to 1999) at the Obafemi Awolowo University, then called the University of Ifẹ̀. With civilian rule restored to Nigeria in 1999, he was made professor emeritus. While in the United States, he first taught at Cornell University as Goldwin Smith professor for African Studies and Theatre Arts from 1988 to 1991 and then at Emory University, where in 1996 he was appointed Robert W. Woodruff Professor of the Arts. Soyinka has been a Professor of Creative Writing at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and has served as scholar-in-residence at New York University's Institute of African American Affairs and at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles, California. He has also taught at the universities of Cambridge, Oxford, Harvard and Yale, and was also a Distinguished Scholar in Residence at Duke University in 2008.
In December 2017, Soyinka was awarded the Europe Theatre Prize in the "Special Prize" category, awarded to someone who has "contributed to the realization of cultural events that promote understanding and the exchange of knowledge between peoples".
Akinwande Oluwole Babatunde Soyinka, known as Wole Soyinka, is a Nigerian playwright, novelist, poet, and essayist in the English language. He was awarded the 1986 Nobel Prize in Literature for his "wide cultural perspective and... poetic overtones fashioning the drama of existence", the first sub-Saharan African to be honoured in that category.
Soyinka was born into a Yoruba family in Abeokuta. In 1954, he attended Government College in Ibadan, and subsequently University College Ibadan and the University of Leeds in England. After studying in Nigeria and the UK, he worked with the Royal Court Theatre in London. He went on to write plays that were produced in both countries, in theatres and on radio. He took an active role in Nigeria's political history and its campaign for independence from British colonial rule. In 1965, he seized the Western Nigeria Broadcasting Service studio and broadcast a demand for the cancellation of the Western Nigeria Regional Elections. In 1967, during the Nigerian Civil War, he was arrested by the federal government of General Yakubu Gowon and put in solitary confinement for two years, for volunteering to be a non-government mediating actor.
Soyinka has been a strong critic of successive Nigerian (and African at large) governments, especially the country's many military dictators, as well as other political tyrannies, including the Mugabe regime in Zimbabwe. Much of his writing has been concerned with "the oppressive boot and the irrelevance of the colour of the foot that wears it". During the regime of General Sani Abacha (1993–98), Soyinka escaped from Nigeria on a motorcycle via the "NADECO Route". Abacha later proclaimed a death sentence against him "in absentia". With civilian rule restored to Nigeria in 1999, Soyinka returned to his nation.
In Nigeria, Soyinka was a Professor of Comparative literature (1975 to 1999) at the Obafemi Awolowo University, then called the University of Ifẹ̀. With civilian rule restored to Nigeria in 1999, he was made professor emeritus. While in the United States, he first taught at Cornell University as Goldwin Smith professor for African Studies and Theatre Arts from 1988 to 1991 and then at Emory University, where in 1996 he was appointed Robert W. Woodruff Professor of the Arts. Soyinka has been a Professor of Creative Writing at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and has served as scholar-in-residence at New York University's Institute of African American Affairs and at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles, California. He has also taught at the universities of Cambridge, Oxford, Harvard and Yale, and was also a Distinguished Scholar in Residence at Duke University in 2008.
In December 2017, Soyinka was awarded the Europe Theatre Prize in the "Special Prize" category, awarded to someone who has "contributed to the realization of cultural events that promote understanding and the exchange of knowledge between peoples".
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 88 reviews
September 4, 2024
Throughout The Interpreters, Soyinka presents a trenchant critique of Nigerian society and a sophisticated contemplation of the individual's struggle to find a tenable position. The author's satire is often directed at the superficiality of society, the unexamined contradictions inherent in the lives and conduct of many, and the pervasiveness of corruption. He grapples with the tension between traditional and modern values and practices, but it's clear that neither offers a complete solution for life's difficulties. Instead of advocating for one over the other, Soyinka insists on critically examining both, recognizing the complexity of the world and the need for a deeper understanding, thereby challenging the audience's intellect.
July 4, 2018
Wole Soyinka- one of the greatest writers Africa, and the world has ever seen. First African Nobel laureate. Celebrated poet. But also a sublime novelist, as this work proves. Actually the great man wrote this his debut novel many decades ago when he was still a young man. Here we concentrate on a coterie of articulate young men in particular as a nation - Nigeria- starts to stand on its own feet. Take a bow Sagoe, Egbo, Sekoni etc. Being Soyinka this is a brilliant, dense work with poetic undulations. From the start one might even give up when we read, "Metal on concrete jars my drink lobes". And what about the voluble Voidancy, "philosophy of shit" - the "business for latrine"? Farcical but gripping in its own way "farting like a beast " et al. A world class work indeed, this novel, with the author ventilating his wariness, his disdain for stultifying factors already pulling the African continent down from inception . Hark at the "moral turpitide", the hypocrisy, the smug sanctimonious elements already taking root. Apart from our intellectual young men here, broad strata of society is delineated here: eg the aristocracy, the hoi polloi, academics, demi-mondes, even albino.
The women in this novel are intriguing too, though the setting is many decades ago. Dehinwa, but Simi in particular. Simi comes across as an assertive, enigmatic, very seductive woman - in control even in respect of sex. Even the sexual details are brilliantly couched in poetic language here; yet Simi is in control. Life goes on here with ineluctable tragedies eg road accidents which the author has again been world famous for, for decades. Ravages on the road. Personally, unconsciously I find myself conflating this work with that of the talented SA writer, Deon Simphiwe Skade (author of A series of Undesirable events). In Deon 's work we are confronted too with young cerebral protagonists, with the author employing marmoreal poetic language echoing DH Lawrence. The Interpreters indeed...
June 19, 2007
Kind of difficult for me to get into at first, set in Nigeria, following a group of Nigerian young professionals as they try to figure out how to be the Western educated people in a post-colonial Nigeria that is split and schizophrenic culturally from the divides between its history, its indiginous culture, its western and white influences, its political upheaval and corruption, and so on... The names of people, places, indiginous mythology, and certain historical events not in the maintstream consciousness of America make this somewhat difficult to follow at first, and it is definitely something to be re-read, rather than read. It took me two attempts to get past the first forty pages before I found myself picking it up a third time (nearly a year after the post-colonial literature class I took where I was supposed to have read this book in its entirety) and finally taking the initiative and effort to keep track of unfamiliar names, to refer to notes I took in the class on relevant culture and history of Nigeria, and proceeded to read it fully over two or three days, and loved it immensely. More than immensely.
P.S. I just re-read the Interpreters, and have to say I was even more blown way by the immensity, subtlety, and gravity of this book. I know all things literature are subjective, but Soyinka's writing is so phenomenal, I highly recommend to anyone who takes the time to read this review, make it a project to read this novel with some research in order to understand the context of what is unfamiliar, and immerse yourself.
P.S. I just re-read the Interpreters, and have to say I was even more blown way by the immensity, subtlety, and gravity of this book. I know all things literature are subjective, but Soyinka's writing is so phenomenal, I highly recommend to anyone who takes the time to read this review, make it a project to read this novel with some research in order to understand the context of what is unfamiliar, and immerse yourself.
April 13, 2019
E mais um livro para o maneta...
Das setenta páginas que li (e me enfadaram de morte desde o primeiro parágrafo) creio ter percebido que as personagens são um grupo de amigos que se encontram nas salas da universidade e nos clubes nocturnos, mas não sei quantos são, nem quais os homens e as mulheres. Quanto ao assunto, se há, não apanhei nem um bocadinho...
_____________
Prémio Nobel da Literatura 1986
Wole Soyinka nasceu na Nigéria em 13 de Julho de 1934.
Das setenta páginas que li (e me enfadaram de morte desde o primeiro parágrafo) creio ter percebido que as personagens são um grupo de amigos que se encontram nas salas da universidade e nos clubes nocturnos, mas não sei quantos são, nem quais os homens e as mulheres. Quanto ao assunto, se há, não apanhei nem um bocadinho...
_____________
Prémio Nobel da Literatura 1986
Wole Soyinka nasceu na Nigéria em 13 de Julho de 1934.
October 5, 2016
صورة أفريقية عريضة وعريضة جدا عن التقاء الأفارقة بالحداثة والاستقلال.. مملة أحيانا والترجمة غير دقيقة أحيانا
May 2, 2019
Sadly, I didn't enjoy this book as I had hoped I would. Maybe it's because of the tumultuous period I'm in right now or maybe it really is Soyinka's obfuscating style that irritated me—I can forgive him for it in his plays but in a novel, it's just unnecessary—that I have given up on it one-third of the way through. I hope to pick it up again one day when I can focus better. Although I have to say though that the number of characters, the lack of dialog tags where relevant, and the shifting timeline are uninspiring to re-read... I don't mind difficult reads, but I'm not sure what the reward of this one would be yet.
July 15, 2024
حاولت جاهدا أن أجاريها، لم أستطع..
هل السبب المؤلف و اسلوبه ؟ أم المترجم ؟
لا أدري !!
هل السبب المؤلف و اسلوبه ؟ أم المترجم ؟
لا أدري !!
September 15, 2019
Wole Soyinka is a very fascinating writer who has seen it all, done it all in literature over the decades. His books, the language is quite difficult but very rewarding. We don't have to understand every single passage or paragraph he writes, anyway. One thing I appreciate about his works is the way he respects women a lot in his own way, dating back to even the books he wrote over 50 years ago! You do not get the impression that he undermines or patronises women, but quite the opposite. Look at the character of Simi here in this book for example, one might not understand her fully, but one sees how strong and awesome she is. Mysterious, very confident, sexy and dominant but not in a pushy way. Apparently she drains willing men (man), with an allure that is still African yet "western" . Very intriguing woman.
Read
January 1, 2017First novel by the
First African Nobel=Lit and my
First AWS in a year chock=full of AWS. And wouldn't you know?, there's a pretty clear whiff of something Pynchonian here too, something maybe of V, something about that whole sick crew; here, the interpreters. And too the whiff of the Voidante Philosophy ("To shit is human, to voidate divine") alone is enough to suspect the affinity (nope, no spoilers).
First African Nobel=Lit and my
First AWS in a year chock=full of AWS. And wouldn't you know?, there's a pretty clear whiff of something Pynchonian here too, something maybe of V, something about that whole sick crew; here, the interpreters. And too the whiff of the Voidante Philosophy ("To shit is human, to voidate divine") alone is enough to suspect the affinity (nope, no spoilers).
December 30, 2024
Che romanzo faticoso. Con la peggiore traduzione in cui mi sia mai imbattuta.
La storia narra di un gruppo di giovani nigeriani che rientrano in patria dopo aver studiato e lavorato all'estero. Siamo in piena decolonizzazione, ma i ragazzi, seri e pieni di speranza per una patria nuova, si scontreranno contro antichi pregiudizi, corruzione, cavilli, disonestà.
Il romanzo alterna uno stile semplice e diretto a pagine postmoderne e oniriche in cui è difficile districarsi.
La storia narra di un gruppo di giovani nigeriani che rientrano in patria dopo aver studiato e lavorato all'estero. Siamo in piena decolonizzazione, ma i ragazzi, seri e pieni di speranza per una patria nuova, si scontreranno contro antichi pregiudizi, corruzione, cavilli, disonestà.
Il romanzo alterna uno stile semplice e diretto a pagine postmoderne e oniriche in cui è difficile districarsi.
September 24, 2021
This is a glorious mess of a debut novel. Soyinka tries to encapsulate and satirize middle-class postcolonial Nigerian life to great effect, and he usually succeeds. He writes a nonlinear "narrative" about a group of friends who are all quite different and throws out any standard novelistic form with gusto. Grand images are set up that seem to not go anywhere. Key characters die off the page without any build up. Subplots are obfuscated by Soyinka's hyperliterate prose style. The novel doesn't actually seem to end up anywhere in particular. Narrative satisfaction is subdued. And yet I didn't really want to stop reading. The language is brutally dense, but working through it feels rewarding in the moment and upon reflection. The characters have so much going on, whether they make up ridiculous voidante philosophies or randomly fail as an engineer and sculpt a masterpiece or suddenly prove themselves to be extremely homophobic, but they do, in the end feel like real people, like real people struggling to come to terms with how they should identify Nigeria as a postcolonial state. What is authentic? Integration into a "modernized" society or the maintenance of tribal traditions? Super thought-provoking stuff.
If this were published by a white American, this would be widely read academically in a way that this basically forgotten gem has not been afforded whatsoever. I'm so glad this just got reprinted.
If this were published by a white American, this would be widely read academically in a way that this basically forgotten gem has not been afforded whatsoever. I'm so glad this just got reprinted.
August 9, 2013
"What are you getting out of it?" "Knowledge of a new generation of interpreters."
So says one character to another in this dense, complex and challenging little novel by Wole Soyinka. Published in 1965, Nigeria was a newly independent nation and this book follows a group of young people as they grapple with questions of how to live their lives. This book is not an act of nation building, as many post independence novels tend to be, but sees characters dealing with situations in which they knowingly or unknowingly deal with life's universal questions: family, marriage, work, politics, religion and death. Death and resurrection hang persistently over the novel and bring a sense of uneasiness about the ancestral past and how to move on with that into the future. A crucial aspect of the novel is the power of people art to reorder and affect reality, as we see the artist Kola arranging his friends and other characters on the canvas into a pantheon of both indigenous deities and Christian imagery. Whether this arrangement represents or affects truly what this group of people see as their changing positions in a changing Nigeria we can't tell, because this is a novel more for those wanting to ask questions rather than receive answers.
So says one character to another in this dense, complex and challenging little novel by Wole Soyinka. Published in 1965, Nigeria was a newly independent nation and this book follows a group of young people as they grapple with questions of how to live their lives. This book is not an act of nation building, as many post independence novels tend to be, but sees characters dealing with situations in which they knowingly or unknowingly deal with life's universal questions: family, marriage, work, politics, religion and death. Death and resurrection hang persistently over the novel and bring a sense of uneasiness about the ancestral past and how to move on with that into the future. A crucial aspect of the novel is the power of people art to reorder and affect reality, as we see the artist Kola arranging his friends and other characters on the canvas into a pantheon of both indigenous deities and Christian imagery. Whether this arrangement represents or affects truly what this group of people see as their changing positions in a changing Nigeria we can't tell, because this is a novel more for those wanting to ask questions rather than receive answers.
February 4, 2025
The whole Wole.
I’m sure it’s possible to read The Interpreters as a representative narrative of postcolonial Nigeria’s sociopolitical climate and the Biafran War. With a little effort we could fit each protagonist into some archetypical mentality inherited from colonial elitism. Like I notice other reviewers doing, we could thereby explore the novel as a matrix of myth creation that conglomerates traditional heritages with neocolonial mismanagement.
However, I don’t think an application of any such structuralism provides a useful apparatus for coming to terms with The Interpreters. This novel is so baffling, no guiding framework will be able to conjure meaning beyond that initial question of ‘how can I proceed forwards despite my initial state of fascination/confusion/displeasure’? There’s no plot, the characters’ personalities are inconsistent, and the structure is totally bizarre. You never really know where or when you are. Symbolised by Voidancy- the novel’s emergent ‘philosophy of shit’- Soyinka realises all interpretations are disposable. The Interpreters happily continues irrespective of your narrative. Verbose, obfuscating, schizophrenic… and mesmerising.
So I tried to embrace the novel’s absurdity. If ‘educating’ the reader at all, Soyinka prioritises fiction’s propensity for defamiliarisation and deautomatonisation. Like Achebe, Soyinka lets ’Things Fall Apart’. Shouldn’t we allow ourselves to enjoy something that arrives at no coherent interpretation? Can it be productive for the critic to move away from the interpretative fallacy? I think yes, so I’m giving this 4 stars even though it’s equally deserving of 1 or 2 or 3 or 5 or less or more. Soyinka allows us to create new knowledges of literary study, asking why something has to be interpretable for it to be ‘good’, or good to be ‘interpretable’. I’ve been encouraged to think these questions before and it’s beautiful because Wole lets you think them all over again for the first time.
I’m sure it’s possible to read The Interpreters as a representative narrative of postcolonial Nigeria’s sociopolitical climate and the Biafran War. With a little effort we could fit each protagonist into some archetypical mentality inherited from colonial elitism. Like I notice other reviewers doing, we could thereby explore the novel as a matrix of myth creation that conglomerates traditional heritages with neocolonial mismanagement.
However, I don’t think an application of any such structuralism provides a useful apparatus for coming to terms with The Interpreters. This novel is so baffling, no guiding framework will be able to conjure meaning beyond that initial question of ‘how can I proceed forwards despite my initial state of fascination/confusion/displeasure’? There’s no plot, the characters’ personalities are inconsistent, and the structure is totally bizarre. You never really know where or when you are. Symbolised by Voidancy- the novel’s emergent ‘philosophy of shit’- Soyinka realises all interpretations are disposable. The Interpreters happily continues irrespective of your narrative. Verbose, obfuscating, schizophrenic… and mesmerising.
So I tried to embrace the novel’s absurdity. If ‘educating’ the reader at all, Soyinka prioritises fiction’s propensity for defamiliarisation and deautomatonisation. Like Achebe, Soyinka lets ’Things Fall Apart’. Shouldn’t we allow ourselves to enjoy something that arrives at no coherent interpretation? Can it be productive for the critic to move away from the interpretative fallacy? I think yes, so I’m giving this 4 stars even though it’s equally deserving of 1 or 2 or 3 or 5 or less or more. Soyinka allows us to create new knowledges of literary study, asking why something has to be interpretable for it to be ‘good’, or good to be ‘interpretable’. I’ve been encouraged to think these questions before and it’s beautiful because Wole lets you think them all over again for the first time.
Read
May 3, 2008*Lazarus the albino in the field of cotton (creation of one's own myth)
*Goldman the gay white man who uses Baldwin/Another Country to pick people up
*the streetlights flicking on, fighting the electric power that's stronger than them
*Sekoni building the power plant that is rejected by authority; he later goes crazy
*Sir Derinola emerging from the hideous wardrobe in a bra and top hat (appears before Sagoe the journalist, who is nursing his hangover)
*Goldman the gay white man who uses Baldwin/Another Country to pick people up
*the streetlights flicking on, fighting the electric power that's stronger than them
*Sekoni building the power plant that is rejected by authority; he later goes crazy
*Sir Derinola emerging from the hideous wardrobe in a bra and top hat (appears before Sagoe the journalist, who is nursing his hangover)
July 22, 2018
Uma obra demasiado metafórica. Com uma visão pessimista. Mas é normal essa visão por retrar a sociedade negra.
Os últimos capítulos são os mais empolgantes pois são feitas algumas revelações
Em geral achei um livro demasiado centrado na realidade e que não deixa muito espaço a imaginação
Os últimos capítulos são os mais empolgantes pois são feitas algumas revelações
Em geral achei um livro demasiado centrado na realidade e que não deixa muito espaço a imaginação
December 30, 2014
رواية بانورامية متلونة اجتماعيا تظهر فئات من المجتمع النيجيري مع استثناءات برزت مع الحاج سيكوني، والمفارقات المنطقية من اجبو لكولا وسواهم من شخوص. الا ان دهينوا تمردت كما تمرد ساجو على العادات والتقاليد والمفاهيم التحررية ايضا التي أغضبت من حولهما ، وتركتهما يحاولان مكافحة صعوبات الحياة كل على حسب مفاهيمه المكتسبة من البيئة المحيطة من حولهم مع الخوض في ماهية النساء العابثات والمتقلبات، والملتزمات ببيئة معينة ليتساءل على لسان شخوصه. " هل النساء كلهن مثل هذه قادرات على معرفة الرجال بمجرد النظر؟ قادرات على جعل داخلهم خارجهم؟" .فالواقعية في روايته امتزجت مع الحوارات المتثاقلة بتتابعها الفكري المحمل بالأفكار الثائرة على كل التقاليد ، وحتى السياسية منها ليبتدع في الرواية الفلسفة الافراغية الساخرة من نوعيات تشمئز منها النفوس الانسانية التائقة الى تحقيق العدالة الانسانية . " الافراغية ليست حركة احتجاج ، لكنها تحتج : انها ليست ثورية ، لكنها تثور، الافراغية ان شئت القول هي الكمية المجهولة، الافراغية هي آخر منجم لم ترسم خارطته بعد، للطاقات الخلاقة".
بناء درامي في رواية اجتماعية سياسية ناقدة لافكار توجه بها للقارئ على مدار الزمن الروائي والأمكنة الصاخبة . ليطرح فلسفته والآراء التي تثير سخطه باسلوب حواري درامي يميل الى حبك توليفات ذات استعارات وكنايات ، ولوحات جميلة رسمها بالكلمات. ليخرج من رتابة الحوارات الطويلة والتقلبات النفسية بين الشخوص التي تنوعت من نحات وصحفي وغير ذلك وكانه يشير في روايته الى فئة خاصة من الشعب المبدع الذي يحتاج الى رعاية دولة واهتمام اكبر ."حتى ذلك الاختيار هو جراء تسلط وطغيان. ان هبة الانسان الحياة يجب ان تكون منفصلة، شيئا غير ذي علاقة. كل اختيار يجب ان ينبع من داخله وليس من تلقينات الماضي . " ان شيفراته السياسية مدموجة ضمن الحوارات التي يقدمها بحبك ساخر احيانا من المجتمع النيجيري بالذات، ومن انسانية مقتولة بيد الانسان نفسه. لتنشأ المفسرون على ايدي المثقفين ومعانتهم الغير مفهومة في الحياة.
تخضع رواية " المفسرون " الى انتقادات ذاتية يوجهها بفنية الحوار الروائي المتين القادر على مشاركة القارئ في العصف الذهني، من خلال الافكار التي يدسها بين التراكيب المضمونية، وبأسلوب شعبي محفوف بروح النكتة احيانا ، وبالمثل الشعبية المعروفة في نيجيريا. الا انه ترك للتكهنات المستقبلية رؤية روائية مبنية على التحليلات، وذلك من خلال بعض تلقينات الماضي للحاضر، وما ينتج عن ذلك من امور مستقبلية دون ان ينسى منح الفنون قيمة تحليلية" فإن لم تكن منحوتة المصارع واحدة من تلك الأعمال التي تحدث مرة في العمر، نتيجة تناسقات بين الخبرة والتفوق، فإن سيكوني، فنان انتظر طويلا ليجد نفسه" .
بعض المفردات او الحكمة الموجوعة من مواقف تعرض لها الشخوص ، وتركتهم بأسلوب غير مباشر قول حكمة تحمل من المعاني الحياتية ما هو ناتج عن وجع لا يمكن إزالته الا بكلمات تخفف حرقة الوجع " القناعة ان تكسب شيئا مقابل لا شىء" . " الثوب لا يصنع الرجال"مع الصور التخيلية التي جبلها بالمعاني. لتكون بمثابة فن يوازي فنون الصحافة والنحت والموسيقى التي منحها لشخوصه. ليبرز قوة في فنه الروائي الجامع للفنون كلها من حيث القدرة على ترك الابعاد مفتوحة من حيث التحليل والدلالات " الامهات الحاكمات المهيآت تخلين عن كل قوتهن، وتمددن في ترتيب هندسي عند قدمبه."لان " وول سوينكا " غمس المفاهيم الفنية من ادب وصحافة، وفن في مجتمع ما زال ينتقد هذه الفئة، ويسخر منها ولا يقدم لها الا المتاعب المضافة التي نقتل الأحلام، وفي ذلك تأخر المجتمعات في الدول الفقيرة او النامية.
نماذج فطرية وضعها بين يدين القارئ، ليدرك ان المواهب الفنية انما تنمو من الطفولة، وقدرتها على امتصاص الشوائب التي تقف في وجه الفنان ليكمل اعماله دون الاهتمام بالاسباب التي تجعل منه الفنان المعروف اعلاميا ، وذلك بمشهد غني بالأركان التصويرية" عليك ان تعرف الآن أني لست فنانا حقا. ولم اعتزم أن أكون. لكني افهم طبيعة الفن، وهكذا صرت أستاذ فن ممتازاً . هذا كل ما في الامر. هذه اللوحة مثلا أجبو هو الذي حرضني عليها، بدون فطنة طبعا، وكان ينبغي ان يجهد هو فيها، لا أنا لشيء واحد هو انه اقرب الى الموضوع. فهل من الهام فني يولد فجأة ويتسبب به الاخرين؟.
حبكة حوارية طويلة ، وأفكار مدها بتفاصيل حياتية وبفلسفة افراغية ايحائية نثير الضحك ، والاشمئزاز في آن، ولكنه لم ينس الموسيقى والايقاع ، وما تتسبب به من تنمية للحس. ان من ناحية الطبيعة الغناء من صوت للمطر او من حركة الماء في نهر يتأمله. ليدمج ذلك فجأة مع الفقر الذي يمنع الشعب من التذوق" طغى صوت سوبرانو على طرطشة الزيت.ايطالية ، اتحبها؟ انا احب الصوت البشري. انا اعتبر الصوت البشري أفضل آلة بعد الكمان. انا لا استمع الى مفضلياتي الا حين اكون وحيدا. فأنا قد أبكي، كما تعرف."فهل في هذا تخفيف من عبء الكم في الافكار ؟ ام ان الفن والموسيقى والنحت، وما الى ذلك هو نوع من التركيب الروائي الهادف الى خلق استراحات ترفيهية يشعر القارئ فيها بالعالم الروائي المتكامل من حيث التنوع في الصور الحياتية التي يمدها لتشمل فئات المجتمع بشكل عام.
يتحكم الروائي " وول سوينكا " بشخوصه ضمن مسارات طبيعية لم يشعر القارئ من خلالها بالتحكم الروائي بالمصائر التراجيدية او حتى بالسلوكيات الغريبة في بعض الشخصيات التي قدمها عن الاخرى . ليقيم الحجة والدليل على الوجود الانساني المشبع بالفقر ، وبالاهمال الاجتماعي الناجم عن السياسة وعن الثقافات المحتاجة الى نمو او الى دعم نفسي ومادي توجهه الدولة للابناء الذين يعانون من الرشوة والفساد وما الى ذلك" بتشنج عصي على التحقق المحدد للمعنى، شعر بإحساس السلطة ذات أهمية قليلة، وأن الفعل، على لوحة الخيش، او المادة البشرية، هو عملية الحياة، مما اوصله الى الخوف المتوتر من التحقيق " فهل من خوف بناء في الاعمال الفنية الابداعية الناتجة عن التفكر او الخوف الطبيعي؟ ام هو الخوف السلبي الذي يريد محوه وول سوينكا في روايته المفسرون؟.
المفسرون هم الشعب المضطهد الرازح تحت قسوة الاحتياج والجهل ، وعدم المتابعة للعلم او حتى صقل المواهب القادرة على حمل هوية وطنية من نوع آخر هم الاصداقاء الذين ترعرعوا في زمن واحد وبيئة واحدة ، فالفنون على انواعها ترفع من القيمة الانسانية المحاطة بالاحباطات المتكررة من كل النواحي الممكنة ولكن القارىء ثابر الى النهاية ربما ليحيا مع اجبو بعض معاناته الشبيهة بالماضي والحاضر والمستقبل " لكنهم حملو اللوحة، وعلقوها في بهو المسرح، حيث سيغني جوغلدر، فيما بعد، ليلا. جاء السادة كلهم، ومن بينهم آل أوغازور، لكنهم انصرفوا سريعا، حين ابصروا ذبابة منزل او ذبابتين تستبقان مسرب خمر النحيل. عملية الذبح، ومذاق الخمر، مع الرائحة النفاذة للحم المشوي، حملت اجبو الى الماضي" لنشعر فعلا مع اجبو انها فنطازيا خيالية تضع القارىء امام مشهد هرب منه السادة او الطبقة المتعالية في المجتمع. ومن ثم ينتقد بسرعة السياسات بعد كل مشهد ميلودرامي " ان سياستك الدولية او القومية لا تساوي شيئا ان لم تكن شديدا على بنية الماضي ونسيجه." فهل نسيج الماضي هو الحبكة المستقبلية لجيل سيقرأ المفسرون ويشعر بزمانها، فيتفاعل كما تفاعل القارىء في الحاضر او الان وشعر بالاسى من مستقبل المفسرون الذي يخاف منه كل مثقف او فنان؟.
بناء درامي في رواية اجتماعية سياسية ناقدة لافكار توجه بها للقارئ على مدار الزمن الروائي والأمكنة الصاخبة . ليطرح فلسفته والآراء التي تثير سخطه باسلوب حواري درامي يميل الى حبك توليفات ذات استعارات وكنايات ، ولوحات جميلة رسمها بالكلمات. ليخرج من رتابة الحوارات الطويلة والتقلبات النفسية بين الشخوص التي تنوعت من نحات وصحفي وغير ذلك وكانه يشير في روايته الى فئة خاصة من الشعب المبدع الذي يحتاج الى رعاية دولة واهتمام اكبر ."حتى ذلك الاختيار هو جراء تسلط وطغيان. ان هبة الانسان الحياة يجب ان تكون منفصلة، شيئا غير ذي علاقة. كل اختيار يجب ان ينبع من داخله وليس من تلقينات الماضي . " ان شيفراته السياسية مدموجة ضمن الحوارات التي يقدمها بحبك ساخر احيانا من المجتمع النيجيري بالذات، ومن انسانية مقتولة بيد الانسان نفسه. لتنشأ المفسرون على ايدي المثقفين ومعانتهم الغير مفهومة في الحياة.
تخضع رواية " المفسرون " الى انتقادات ذاتية يوجهها بفنية الحوار الروائي المتين القادر على مشاركة القارئ في العصف الذهني، من خلال الافكار التي يدسها بين التراكيب المضمونية، وبأسلوب شعبي محفوف بروح النكتة احيانا ، وبالمثل الشعبية المعروفة في نيجيريا. الا انه ترك للتكهنات المستقبلية رؤية روائية مبنية على التحليلات، وذلك من خلال بعض تلقينات الماضي للحاضر، وما ينتج عن ذلك من امور مستقبلية دون ان ينسى منح الفنون قيمة تحليلية" فإن لم تكن منحوتة المصارع واحدة من تلك الأعمال التي تحدث مرة في العمر، نتيجة تناسقات بين الخبرة والتفوق، فإن سيكوني، فنان انتظر طويلا ليجد نفسه" .
بعض المفردات او الحكمة الموجوعة من مواقف تعرض لها الشخوص ، وتركتهم بأسلوب غير مباشر قول حكمة تحمل من المعاني الحياتية ما هو ناتج عن وجع لا يمكن إزالته الا بكلمات تخفف حرقة الوجع " القناعة ان تكسب شيئا مقابل لا شىء" . " الثوب لا يصنع الرجال"مع الصور التخيلية التي جبلها بالمعاني. لتكون بمثابة فن يوازي فنون الصحافة والنحت والموسيقى التي منحها لشخوصه. ليبرز قوة في فنه الروائي الجامع للفنون كلها من حيث القدرة على ترك الابعاد مفتوحة من حيث التحليل والدلالات " الامهات الحاكمات المهيآت تخلين عن كل قوتهن، وتمددن في ترتيب هندسي عند قدمبه."لان " وول سوينكا " غمس المفاهيم الفنية من ادب وصحافة، وفن في مجتمع ما زال ينتقد هذه الفئة، ويسخر منها ولا يقدم لها الا المتاعب المضافة التي نقتل الأحلام، وفي ذلك تأخر المجتمعات في الدول الفقيرة او النامية.
نماذج فطرية وضعها بين يدين القارئ، ليدرك ان المواهب الفنية انما تنمو من الطفولة، وقدرتها على امتصاص الشوائب التي تقف في وجه الفنان ليكمل اعماله دون الاهتمام بالاسباب التي تجعل منه الفنان المعروف اعلاميا ، وذلك بمشهد غني بالأركان التصويرية" عليك ان تعرف الآن أني لست فنانا حقا. ولم اعتزم أن أكون. لكني افهم طبيعة الفن، وهكذا صرت أستاذ فن ممتازاً . هذا كل ما في الامر. هذه اللوحة مثلا أجبو هو الذي حرضني عليها، بدون فطنة طبعا، وكان ينبغي ان يجهد هو فيها، لا أنا لشيء واحد هو انه اقرب الى الموضوع. فهل من الهام فني يولد فجأة ويتسبب به الاخرين؟.
حبكة حوارية طويلة ، وأفكار مدها بتفاصيل حياتية وبفلسفة افراغية ايحائية نثير الضحك ، والاشمئزاز في آن، ولكنه لم ينس الموسيقى والايقاع ، وما تتسبب به من تنمية للحس. ان من ناحية الطبيعة الغناء من صوت للمطر او من حركة الماء في نهر يتأمله. ليدمج ذلك فجأة مع الفقر الذي يمنع الشعب من التذوق" طغى صوت سوبرانو على طرطشة الزيت.ايطالية ، اتحبها؟ انا احب الصوت البشري. انا اعتبر الصوت البشري أفضل آلة بعد الكمان. انا لا استمع الى مفضلياتي الا حين اكون وحيدا. فأنا قد أبكي، كما تعرف."فهل في هذا تخفيف من عبء الكم في الافكار ؟ ام ان الفن والموسيقى والنحت، وما الى ذلك هو نوع من التركيب الروائي الهادف الى خلق استراحات ترفيهية يشعر القارئ فيها بالعالم الروائي المتكامل من حيث التنوع في الصور الحياتية التي يمدها لتشمل فئات المجتمع بشكل عام.
يتحكم الروائي " وول سوينكا " بشخوصه ضمن مسارات طبيعية لم يشعر القارئ من خلالها بالتحكم الروائي بالمصائر التراجيدية او حتى بالسلوكيات الغريبة في بعض الشخصيات التي قدمها عن الاخرى . ليقيم الحجة والدليل على الوجود الانساني المشبع بالفقر ، وبالاهمال الاجتماعي الناجم عن السياسة وعن الثقافات المحتاجة الى نمو او الى دعم نفسي ومادي توجهه الدولة للابناء الذين يعانون من الرشوة والفساد وما الى ذلك" بتشنج عصي على التحقق المحدد للمعنى، شعر بإحساس السلطة ذات أهمية قليلة، وأن الفعل، على لوحة الخيش، او المادة البشرية، هو عملية الحياة، مما اوصله الى الخوف المتوتر من التحقيق " فهل من خوف بناء في الاعمال الفنية الابداعية الناتجة عن التفكر او الخوف الطبيعي؟ ام هو الخوف السلبي الذي يريد محوه وول سوينكا في روايته المفسرون؟.
المفسرون هم الشعب المضطهد الرازح تحت قسوة الاحتياج والجهل ، وعدم المتابعة للعلم او حتى صقل المواهب القادرة على حمل هوية وطنية من نوع آخر هم الاصداقاء الذين ترعرعوا في زمن واحد وبيئة واحدة ، فالفنون على انواعها ترفع من القيمة الانسانية المحاطة بالاحباطات المتكررة من كل النواحي الممكنة ولكن القارىء ثابر الى النهاية ربما ليحيا مع اجبو بعض معاناته الشبيهة بالماضي والحاضر والمستقبل " لكنهم حملو اللوحة، وعلقوها في بهو المسرح، حيث سيغني جوغلدر، فيما بعد، ليلا. جاء السادة كلهم، ومن بينهم آل أوغازور، لكنهم انصرفوا سريعا، حين ابصروا ذبابة منزل او ذبابتين تستبقان مسرب خمر النحيل. عملية الذبح، ومذاق الخمر، مع الرائحة النفاذة للحم المشوي، حملت اجبو الى الماضي" لنشعر فعلا مع اجبو انها فنطازيا خيالية تضع القارىء امام مشهد هرب منه السادة او الطبقة المتعالية في المجتمع. ومن ثم ينتقد بسرعة السياسات بعد كل مشهد ميلودرامي " ان سياستك الدولية او القومية لا تساوي شيئا ان لم تكن شديدا على بنية الماضي ونسيجه." فهل نسيج الماضي هو الحبكة المستقبلية لجيل سيقرأ المفسرون ويشعر بزمانها، فيتفاعل كما تفاعل القارىء في الحاضر او الان وشعر بالاسى من مستقبل المفسرون الذي يخاف منه كل مثقف او فنان؟.
December 23, 2013
وول سوينكا-المفسرون
/ذاكرة الشعوب الادب النيجيري
وول سوينكا عكس الواقع النيجيري بعد الاستقلال
من خلال خمسة شبان,لكل منهم طموحات واحلام يسعون الي تحقيقها
تناول في روايته المفسرون قضايا الفساد والوصولية لمجتمع لم يبصر النور بعد
احببت فيها اجبو وتردده
سيكوني وقبته الكونية
ساجو ومنطقه الافراغي
كولا والبنثايون خاصته
واخيرا بانديلي
/ذاكرة الشعوب الادب النيجيري
وول سوينكا عكس الواقع النيجيري بعد الاستقلال
من خلال خمسة شبان,لكل منهم طموحات واحلام يسعون الي تحقيقها
تناول في روايته المفسرون قضايا الفساد والوصولية لمجتمع لم يبصر النور بعد
احببت فيها اجبو وتردده
سيكوني وقبته الكونية
ساجو ومنطقه الافراغي
كولا والبنثايون خاصته
واخيرا بانديلي
January 28, 2019
Sebuah karya yang agak berat untuk dihadam, kekangan utama dari sudut kefahaman naratif dan juga masa. Namun, ia kaya dengan semangat 'orang muda' yang baru membina kerjaya dalam sistem pentadbiran negara mereka yang 'sakit'. Saya menggemari dialog dan peristiwa Dehinwa berhujah dengan ibu dan ibu saudaranya dan peristiwa ketika upacara di gereja.
October 17, 2007
Also read this a long time ago. It was challenging, as are all of his books.
Read
October 14, 2019A group of young Nigerian intellectuals struggle to articulate meaning amid the general squalor of modernity in post-independence Africa. Very good. Soyinka was better known as a playwrite, but this is small masterpiece. The characters are rich, humorous and tragic, the style is difficult but evocative, the setting will be foreign to most readers (or most readers reading this blog); in short, everything you'd want in a novel. Worth your time.
June 28, 2025
When I read The Interpreters in 2004, I was expecting a novel. What I got was a storm. Not a storm in the traditional sense of plot twists and high drama, but a cerebral one—dense, dissonant, and layered with the melancholy brilliance of a writer who knew too well what it meant to be caught between colonial wreckage and the illusion of freedom. It didn’t just shake my understanding of African literature—it reoriented how I viewed post-independence intellectual struggles, in both Africa and India.
Soyinka isn’t here to hand-hold the reader. The Interpreters unfolds like a fractured mosaic, its characters meandering through memories, academic debates, decaying institutions, and spiritual malaise. There’s no linear trajectory. No neat resolutions. And absolutely no regard for whether the reader is “keeping up.” But that’s part of its power. You feel the disjointedness of a generation educated in colonial frameworks, now floundering in a society unsure of what freedom even means.
The prose is jagged and musical, cerebral yet raw—at times almost deliberately oblique. But I remember being “blown away” by it. Not in the clichéd “what a great story” way, but more like being mentally spun around and left disoriented on the shores of postcolonial Lagos. The characters aren’t archetypes or heroes. They’re haunted souls: Sagoe, the cynical journalist who dissects reality with biting sarcasm; Egbo, torn between Western education and ancestral memory; Bandele, Sekoni, Kola—each a thinker, a misfit, a product of their fractured world.
What struck me most was the theme of alienation—not just from the state, but from language, identity, and even the self. These men don’t “fit” into their society because the society itself is unformed, still ghosted by colonialism. Reading this from an Indian lens, it resonated on a painful frequency. The intellectuals in The Interpreters aren’t unlike those in post-independence India—gifted, fractured, wandering between idealism and cynicism, deeply aware of their powerlessness even as they speak in the language of power.
And Soyinka’s style—God, the style. It’s not just modernist. It’s postmodern before postmodern was fashionable. The narration weaves in and out of consciousness, scenes dissolve into memory or philosophical musing, and dialogue cuts with the sharpness of a broken bottle. It’s not an “easy” book. But it’s true—to its setting, to its dilemmas, and to the absurdity of trying to rebuild a nation with the tools of its colonizers.
Two decades later, the novel still haunts me. Sagoe’s bitterness, Egbo’s helpless yearning, Soyinka’s refusal to offer catharsis—they all remain etched. The Interpreters didn’t entertain me. It changed the way I read, taught, and thought. It asked me, like its characters, to interpret a world that doesn’t want to be understood.
Soyinka isn’t here to hand-hold the reader. The Interpreters unfolds like a fractured mosaic, its characters meandering through memories, academic debates, decaying institutions, and spiritual malaise. There’s no linear trajectory. No neat resolutions. And absolutely no regard for whether the reader is “keeping up.” But that’s part of its power. You feel the disjointedness of a generation educated in colonial frameworks, now floundering in a society unsure of what freedom even means.
The prose is jagged and musical, cerebral yet raw—at times almost deliberately oblique. But I remember being “blown away” by it. Not in the clichéd “what a great story” way, but more like being mentally spun around and left disoriented on the shores of postcolonial Lagos. The characters aren’t archetypes or heroes. They’re haunted souls: Sagoe, the cynical journalist who dissects reality with biting sarcasm; Egbo, torn between Western education and ancestral memory; Bandele, Sekoni, Kola—each a thinker, a misfit, a product of their fractured world.
What struck me most was the theme of alienation—not just from the state, but from language, identity, and even the self. These men don’t “fit” into their society because the society itself is unformed, still ghosted by colonialism. Reading this from an Indian lens, it resonated on a painful frequency. The intellectuals in The Interpreters aren’t unlike those in post-independence India—gifted, fractured, wandering between idealism and cynicism, deeply aware of their powerlessness even as they speak in the language of power.
And Soyinka’s style—God, the style. It’s not just modernist. It’s postmodern before postmodern was fashionable. The narration weaves in and out of consciousness, scenes dissolve into memory or philosophical musing, and dialogue cuts with the sharpness of a broken bottle. It’s not an “easy” book. But it’s true—to its setting, to its dilemmas, and to the absurdity of trying to rebuild a nation with the tools of its colonizers.
Two decades later, the novel still haunts me. Sagoe’s bitterness, Egbo’s helpless yearning, Soyinka’s refusal to offer catharsis—they all remain etched. The Interpreters didn’t entertain me. It changed the way I read, taught, and thought. It asked me, like its characters, to interpret a world that doesn’t want to be understood.
October 13, 2018
Wonderful book with a wild prose style, funny satire and jokes and great characterisation.
e.g.
"'Metal on concrete jars my drink lobes'. This was Sagoe, grumbling as his stuck fingers in his ears against the mad screech of iron tables. Then his neck was nearly snapped as Dehinwa leapt up and Sagoe's arm dangled in the void where her lap had been. Bandele's arms never ceased to surprise. At half-span they embraced tables and chairs, pushed them deep into the main wall as dancers dodged long chameleon tongues of the cloudburst and the wind leapt at them, visibly male-violent. In a moment only the band was left.
The 'plop' continued some time before its meaning came clear to Egbo and he looked up at the leaking roof in disgust, then threw his beer into the rain muttering.
'I don't need his pity. Someone tell God not to weep in my beer.'"
"He recalled that it had been the rainy season when he returned from Europe and America. Instead of heat he obtained electric shocks - once as he touched the faucet of a bath with his toes and another time through a finger as he dialled a number on the phone. When he told Mathias he said,
'Na austerity measure. Government wan join three ministry together -Works, Electricity and Communication' and roared away at the idea."
"The rains of May become in July slit arteries of the sacrificial bull, a million bleeding punctures of the sky-bull hidden in convulsive cloud humps, black, overfed for this one event, nourished on horizon ops of endless choice grazing, distant beyond giraffe reach. Some competition there is below, as bridges yield right of way to lorries packed to the running-board, and the wet tar spins mirages of unspeed-limits to heroic cars and their cargoes find a haven below the precipice. The blood of earth-dwellers mingles with blanched streams of the mocking bull, and flows into currents eternally below earth. The Dome cracked above Sekoni's short-sighted head one messy night. Too late he saw the insanity of a lorry parked right in his path, a swerve turned into a skid and cruel arabesques of tyres. A futile heap of metal, and Sekoni's body lay surprised across the open door, showers of laminated glass around him, his beard one fastness of blood and wet earth."
e.g.
"'Metal on concrete jars my drink lobes'. This was Sagoe, grumbling as his stuck fingers in his ears against the mad screech of iron tables. Then his neck was nearly snapped as Dehinwa leapt up and Sagoe's arm dangled in the void where her lap had been. Bandele's arms never ceased to surprise. At half-span they embraced tables and chairs, pushed them deep into the main wall as dancers dodged long chameleon tongues of the cloudburst and the wind leapt at them, visibly male-violent. In a moment only the band was left.
The 'plop' continued some time before its meaning came clear to Egbo and he looked up at the leaking roof in disgust, then threw his beer into the rain muttering.
'I don't need his pity. Someone tell God not to weep in my beer.'"
"He recalled that it had been the rainy season when he returned from Europe and America. Instead of heat he obtained electric shocks - once as he touched the faucet of a bath with his toes and another time through a finger as he dialled a number on the phone. When he told Mathias he said,
'Na austerity measure. Government wan join three ministry together -Works, Electricity and Communication' and roared away at the idea."
"The rains of May become in July slit arteries of the sacrificial bull, a million bleeding punctures of the sky-bull hidden in convulsive cloud humps, black, overfed for this one event, nourished on horizon ops of endless choice grazing, distant beyond giraffe reach. Some competition there is below, as bridges yield right of way to lorries packed to the running-board, and the wet tar spins mirages of unspeed-limits to heroic cars and their cargoes find a haven below the precipice. The blood of earth-dwellers mingles with blanched streams of the mocking bull, and flows into currents eternally below earth. The Dome cracked above Sekoni's short-sighted head one messy night. Too late he saw the insanity of a lorry parked right in his path, a swerve turned into a skid and cruel arabesques of tyres. A futile heap of metal, and Sekoni's body lay surprised across the open door, showers of laminated glass around him, his beard one fastness of blood and wet earth."
February 1, 2019
Uma certa África vista por dentro...Um grupo de jovens intelectuais nigerianos cruzam as páginas do livro com a sua realidade.
August 6, 2012
A small group of young Nigerian intellectuals have a few drinks and hold pretentious philosophical conversations, in between ribbing each other about girls, jobs, getting drunk, etc. I shouldn't like this book at all, I should be thinking that no decent writer would write conversations like that, because people don't talk that way.
These characters in this situation would, and the conversations between them are perfect. So are the almost throw-away sentences at the ends of chapters which made me completely rethink what I had just read. Wole Soyinka is not a decent writer, he is a great writer.
The characters, places, corrupt society and satirical set pieces are all very well depicted. The writing is richly sensual, poetic, funny and distinctive. The author is better known as a playwright and poet than a novelist, so the plays and poems must be mind-blowing. He even makes Voidancy poetic in this little gem of a novel.
The story of how they ended up in the situation they are in for the time-frame of the novel is told obliquely, using their memories and each others, flashbacks, hallucinations and a little from the third party narrator. This means that the story is revealed through a series of images. The mixture of techniques works very well. Many of the stories are not happy ones, as the protagonist group deal with corruption, frustration, bigotry and ignorance. They are all interesting.
These characters in this situation would, and the conversations between them are perfect. So are the almost throw-away sentences at the ends of chapters which made me completely rethink what I had just read. Wole Soyinka is not a decent writer, he is a great writer.
The characters, places, corrupt society and satirical set pieces are all very well depicted. The writing is richly sensual, poetic, funny and distinctive. The author is better known as a playwright and poet than a novelist, so the plays and poems must be mind-blowing. He even makes Voidancy poetic in this little gem of a novel.
The story of how they ended up in the situation they are in for the time-frame of the novel is told obliquely, using their memories and each others, flashbacks, hallucinations and a little from the third party narrator. This means that the story is revealed through a series of images. The mixture of techniques works very well. Many of the stories are not happy ones, as the protagonist group deal with corruption, frustration, bigotry and ignorance. They are all interesting.
August 4, 2015
This was Soyinka's first novel -- he has written at least one other since; although he is better known for his plays and poetry, this is not a bad novel. The "interpreters" of the title are a group of friends who observe and satirize the corruption which was already endemic in Nigeria shortly after independence; the theme is similar to Achebe's No Longer at Ease, although the style is very different and less realistic. Like many literary novels of the sixties, the chronology is deliberately obscured by flashbacks and flashforwards to give a feeling of stasis; what's more important is the poetic, image-filled prose. As with Soyinka's plays and poetry, there is a substratum of Yoruba mythology -- partly explicit, in that one character is painting many of the others into a work called "Pantheon" as various Yoruba gods; I think that probably all the major characters, and many of the events, have analogues in the mythology, although I'm not familiar enough with this religion to identify them all. The novel has a good deal of humor, although some of it is overdone. There are many levels here and I probably didn't get all of them.
April 11, 2018
Luin Tulkit-kirjaa melkein 3 viikkoa. Tällaiset kirjat saavat pohtimaan vakavasti, kannattaako vapaa-aikaa käyttää lukemiseen vai ihan johonkin muuhun.
Voihan otsalohkoni - kyllä oli vaikea kirja. Muun muassa tällaisen kielen takia lukemisesta puuttui kaikki ilo. Sinänsä nuorten nigerialaisten hetket olivat kiinnostavia väläyksiä afrikkalaiseen 1960-lukuun ja ilmiselvään juurettomuuteen. Monet palasivat expat-elämästä ja opiskelemasta ulkomailta. Ja tapailivat Afrikassa uskonmiehiä, Afrikan valkoisia, yliopistoeliittiä ja emansipoituneita naisia.
En ymmärtänyt kirjaa lainkaan. Siinä oli selvästi tarina, mutta kuka missä mitä miksi kenen kanssa? Mikä oli kirjan idea? Miksi se oli kirjoitettu?
En saa tästä kirjasta selkoa ilman Googlea tai GR-arvioita. Tuskin kuitenkaan välitän niin paljoa, että käyttäisin aikaa kumpaankaan.
Ymmärrän myös, että ongelmani saattaa olla se, etten lainkaan ymmärrä kontekstia. Mutta käännöskirjallisuuden pitäisi auttaa lukijaa tällä matkalla eikä tehdä siitä vielä vaikeampaa.
Voihan otsalohkoni - kyllä oli vaikea kirja. Muun muassa tällaisen kielen takia lukemisesta puuttui kaikki ilo. Sinänsä nuorten nigerialaisten hetket olivat kiinnostavia väläyksiä afrikkalaiseen 1960-lukuun ja ilmiselvään juurettomuuteen. Monet palasivat expat-elämästä ja opiskelemasta ulkomailta. Ja tapailivat Afrikassa uskonmiehiä, Afrikan valkoisia, yliopistoeliittiä ja emansipoituneita naisia.
En ymmärtänyt kirjaa lainkaan. Siinä oli selvästi tarina, mutta kuka missä mitä miksi kenen kanssa? Mikä oli kirjan idea? Miksi se oli kirjoitettu?
En saa tästä kirjasta selkoa ilman Googlea tai GR-arvioita. Tuskin kuitenkaan välitän niin paljoa, että käyttäisin aikaa kumpaankaan.
Ymmärrän myös, että ongelmani saattaa olla se, etten lainkaan ymmärrä kontekstia. Mutta käännöskirjallisuuden pitäisi auttaa lukijaa tällä matkalla eikä tehdä siitä vielä vaikeampaa.
September 12, 2015
Interpreting "The Interpreters"
I received the copy of Wole Soyinka’s The Interpreters 2 weeks ago. Little by little, I devour its page until the nagging and persistent boredom attacks me. Bit by bit, I try to understand its meaning. Whether I’m sitting aboard the usual morning jeepney ride, or standing in the LRT, I read it as I used to read C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia. The difference is, I’m quite dead bored. I CANT interpret The Interpreters.
That I am lost somewhere in pages 40-50 after a two-week period of possessing the book is a proof that I am losing the grip of reading it.
I received the copy of Wole Soyinka’s The Interpreters 2 weeks ago. Little by little, I devour its page until the nagging and persistent boredom attacks me. Bit by bit, I try to understand its meaning. Whether I’m sitting aboard the usual morning jeepney ride, or standing in the LRT, I read it as I used to read C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia. The difference is, I’m quite dead bored. I CANT interpret The Interpreters.
That I am lost somewhere in pages 40-50 after a two-week period of possessing the book is a proof that I am losing the grip of reading it.
July 24, 2013
I am either too dumb or have forgotten too much of high school English to even begin understanding this book. I was especially excited to read it after finishing another book by a Nigerian. After reading the first 30 pages, I was completely lost. After 60, I thought it was all starting to make sense, but i'm not sure anymore. What is this book about? Something to do with being on a river and maybe some parties in leaky huts? I really just don't have a clue. Soyinka won the Nobel Prize for literature and I kind of feel like either his plays must be much more coherent or the emperor is naked.
September 14, 2008
Soyinka is my favorite African writer to date (admitting that I have only read a handful and often in translation). He is authentically funny and, most important, sensual. I taste the food, feel the rhythm and heat etc. An interesting contrast to fellow Nigerian, Ibu writer Chinua Achebe who thinks too much and tries too hard.
April 27, 2018
Ich habe das Buch für meine damalige "Länder"-Challenge gelesen, wo es als Vertreter für Nigeria fungierte. Ansonsten kann ich mich nicht mehr an sehr viel erinnern, nur dass ich es glaub ich ziemlich langweilig fand und es wohl nie zur Hand genommen hätte, wenn ich es nicht für diese Challenge gebraucht hätte.
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