Ngugi

In addition to visiting Michigan, I have read a number of books on Michigan history and African literature. Most of the African works that I've read have either been regarding folklore or poetry to get a feel for the stories Africans tell, how they tell them, what kinds of characters and plots they use and so on. And then there's Ngugi.

A friend recommended that I read Ngugi's Devil on the Cross (1987). As I quickly learned, Ngugi's no joke. A native of Kenya, his writing concentrates on post-colonial Africa. I was reluctant to read his work for a couple reasons:

1) It takes place in East Africa, not Southern Africa
2) I didn't think I had read enough traditional African literature and didn't want to jump ahead to more modern content.

That being said, I believe that I was able to pick up some phrases that could be used universally throughout Africa ("Too much haste splits the yam", "The shoe doesn't need a sock" (meaning, "Nothing's closer to the truth"), "It is never too early to go to the market, before the sun scorches the vegetables"), not just Kenya.

This book also reads like the other side of John Perkins' Confessions of an Economic Hit Man. There Perkins talks about what he would do to extend American business interests abroad. Here, Ngugi talks about how men like Perkins influenced his country's businessmen. Pretty powerful stuff which begins to answer a question I'd always had: Why don't these countries have their own corporations? Perkins may argue it's because we've taken them out (to stay on the hit man tip).

As Ngugi writes, "There is nothing as terrible as a people who have swallowed foreign customs whole, without even chewing them, for such people become mere parrots", which is how he describes some of his post-colonial countrymen who continue to serve the financial interests of foreigners. More positively, he also writes, "...we shouldn't always run after foreign things, following in the footsteps of other people, singing only songs that have been composed by others, joining in the chorus of songs sung by soloists from other lands. We can compose our own songs, produce our own soloists, sing the songs to ourselves."

How does this fit in to Any Color You Want? First, Ngugi's story sewed a seed 21 years ago that now, with the Western world weakened economically and militarily, may give the developing world fruit to bear: That being, they can follow their own way. Second, his story questions the expertise and supremacy of Western ways which my protagonists will also do. Basically, Ngugi may be the dramatic precedent for this comedy.

For those of you finding it hard to believe that this is really a comedy, in chapter two our protagonists start a car alarm symphony with a soccer ball in a public parking lot. Good times.

The horror

Before the night's first customer sits down, a cook has to have his mise en place ready. Michael Ruhlman, author of The Elements of Cooking, defines "meez" as:

"Literally, 'put in place,' mise en place is the kitchen term for your setup, the gathering and preparation of all the tools and food you need to complete the task at hand."

Strewn around my apartment are my literary mise en place. Books on African folklore and wisdom literature, African fiction and poetry and, of course, relevant '80s movies (there are two in particular).

That being said, I'm improving my knowledge of African literature. And yet, are Africans m primary audience? Probably not. Westerners will be, I reckon. And what works tell of Africa and Africans from the Westerner's point of view? Well, two come to mind: Isak Dinesen's Out of Africa and Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness.

While I'd like to be as clever as Joyce - dropping references left and right in multiple languages - I know that at the end of the day I'll be talking to myself. Therefore, rather than nibble around the plate with an assortment of obscure references (no knuckle-curves here), I've decided to stick with a few rather well-known works to work off of. Heart of Darkness will be one of those works.

Heart of Darkness would allow me to conceivably turn this one-sided story on its head at the expense of its former protagonists. And by having the African characters quote it back to the Westerners they come across, it sends a message to the American characters: You do not act in a vacuum. We have read your books, we follow your economy and politics, we know your geography. And this knowledge of your world is our power. Do you know ours?

Heart of Darkness and Coming to America, a recipe for literary laughs.