One of those things I do not think I will ever be able to fully bring out in my assessments of the writer who is Marechera is the thrill of his life in terms of living through so much of history.
When the ever so posh Oxford scholars came in and found that he was trying to dry his clothes in his student room by hanging up lines and turning all the heaters on, and shutting windows, they had not idea that what they saw was somebody who had crossed whole eras of historical time very quickly.
The lines he put up to hang his clothes were just the first link he had to make between his early origins in a mud hut and the modern network of communications he would utilise to write his books.
2 comments:
Isnt it Ironic, that what was considered an embarassing mark of his tribal past, would now be considered the epitome of cultural authenticity?
Well maybe not quite yet -- as many people still read his work and see his embarrassing primitivism in it. he doesn't quite live up to bourgeois individualistic standards, see.
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