mindblast 2

The attraction to redemption through destruction must seem odd from the point of view of a different time and place. From the point of view of today's time and place, when it is vital to hang on, defending against a constantly encroaching sequence of disasters (or is it a chain?) -- global warming, economic crunch, fires, floods. Today one wearily stays on one's feet to do battle, whereas there was once a time, once a place, where a sense that a disaster had already taken place catastrophically allowed one to lie down and rest awhile to contemplate its meaning.

Marechera's MINDBLAST reflects the Zimbabwe of the early to mid eighties. Harare of that time is the scene of catastrophic change. History still marches on -- but in terms of irony (or farce), for the tragedy (of war) that was has already been superceded. Many have had their minds "blasted" by the decade and a half war years. They are the relics of humanity found on the city streets, holding together what remains of soul and body.

The best part of their lives have been used up by the intensity of rapid change. The monster of the psyche lurking in the city square is the measure of how much the threat of death has presided over the form and process of their lives. Now that the tragedy is not longer a part of life's process, it is sorely missed. Another lifeform springs up -- that of the bohemian and rastafarian. It casts a fragile look around, casting roots deep into the cracks appearing in the concrete of the past. What can one perceive -- unless infinity -- with minds that have been used up?

Marechera's complaint, having "seen too much", was an argument against society for having changed more than he could handle. "Let me remain at the very edge of this tragedy and mark its spot, as a monument to the meaning of catastrophic change," is his statement. The inner corrosions of the mind returned from war are threads that lead towards the meaning of the human soul. Threats from muggers on the streets and the secret police are inevitable but add nothing more spectacular to reality than everything that one has seen before. The craving for a brilliant new experience that could take one out of the corroded mind is met with violence, which for all of its effects, has an impersonal sense about it. How can it reach the inner soul?

The inner soul has its own self-determinations, based on the shape of cracks and previous corrosions. It is unlikely that anything new can be added, although certain experiences may cause the cracks to shudder -- the mind to recall.