Secrets

Rating:
Summary: Rave Reviews
Review: In his bewitching saga, "Secrets," Somalian novelist Nuruddin Farah conjures a strange and densely spirited world. Immediately, the reader is immersed in a jumble of folklore, allegories, visions and sorcery. This is Somalia in 1995, and the echoing gunfire of clan violence and civil war is creeping into the capital of Mogadishu. But even more portentous are Farah's characters, whose consciences are as troubled as their country...With "Secrets," Farah, who was awarded this year's Neustadt International Prize for Literature (the most prestigious literary award after the Nobel), continues to delve into the hearts and minds of a people remembered by the West only when terror bubbles to the surface. The fault lines of tragedy, however, run much deeper. (Time Out New York, May 21, 1998)

Nuruddin Farah's hypnotic new novel, "Secrets" is...a shape-shifter--murder mystery, family saga, magical-realist thriller...Suspense builds secret upon secret..."Secrets" is rich with figurative language and parable. (New York Newsday, May 3, 1998)

Spellbinding, luminous prose. (Baltimore Sun, May 10, 1998)

Rating:
Summary: The Seattle Times, May 24, 1998:
Review: Nuruddin Farah's "Secrets" takes place amid scattered gunfire in Mogadishu just before the Somali civil war. The main characters are members of a family in internal crisis who bit by painful bit chip away at the secrets that have blocked their relationships and haunted the adult son, Kalaman...Farah is a captivating imagist, whose language teems with the earthy physicality of Africa. He creates a startling, convincing portrait of Somalia as a place of primitive ritual and taboo, shape-shifting and witchcraft, jumbled with computers, automobiles and European clothing. He draws upon the poetry of Ted Hughes and a herd of elephants raiding a village with equal authority. (Seattle Times, May 24, 1998)

Rating:
Summary: Captivating
Review: Secrets is the somalian tribal civil-war analyzed from a postmodernist, theoretical perspective. If this sounds bleak, don't worry. Farah makes no mistake as he drapes this defence for modernization in evocative mythical clothing. Engrossing and rich, Secrets is part crime story part fable of the origin of culture, but never boring. Friends of Shakespeare will appreciate the obvious nods to Lear and The Tempest at the end. And note: one of the editorial reviews was concerned over the sexual politics of this book, but that is simply a result of a sloppy reading.

Rating:
Summary: Beautiful but tiresome
Review: The language is exquisite and I did get a sense that the whole thing is really a metaphor for Somalia's crisis, but if you're looking for a good story -- a magical-realist THRILLER, as the back cover of my book calls it -- this is not the book to read. I, too, was bored midway through but the promise of the title and the back cover description kept me going. I figured the action had to pick up some time. I was disappointed at the end that I spent so much time on this book.

Rating:
Summary: Beautiful but tiresome
Review: The language is exquisite and I did get a sense that the whole thing is really a metaphor for Somalia's crisis, but if you're looking for a good story -- a magical-realist THRILLER, as the back cover of my book calls it -- this is not the book to read. I, too, was bored midway through but the promise of the title and the back cover description kept me going. I figured the action had to pick up some time. I was disappointed at the end that I spent so much time on this book.

Rating:
Summary: Overwrought
Review: There is much rich material at the heart of this 1998 novel by Nuruddin Farah. Set in pre-civil war Mogadishu, Secrets documents the internal struggle of Kalaman, a single, thirtyish Somali businessman, to find his identity and to make some sense of longstanding family intrigues. Kalaman's well-ordered life is turned upside down by the sudden reappearance of a childhood lover, Sholoongo, whose overt sexuality and mystical qualities bring an air of danger and taboo. Her demand to bear Kalaman's child, and her hinting of dark secrets in Kalaman's family, set in motion a sequence of events involving Kalaman's parents and, most especially, his grandfather Nonno, the family patriarch.

In the end, though, I found the book disappointing. Others have remarked on Farah's lyrical prose and his rich blend of myth and metaphor. To be sure, he is a very expressive writer. But in the midst of his ample metaphors, musings, and dream sequences I often lost track of just what was happening. And he seems compelled to have every character, at nearly every opportunity, spout deep quasi-philosophical ruminations about the meaning of life. People I know, including a lot of Africans, just don't talk to each other like that.

I also felt a bit cheated by the virtual absence in the storyline of the impending civil war. Blame it on the blurb-writers, but somehow I was led to believe that the backdrop of a Somalia on the edge of anarchy would make the novel more compelling and help us to better understand the fissures in Somali society that led to this point. But the burgeoning civil unrest plays only a bit part in the novel, mostly as mere offstage noise. Farah sprinkles in references to the warlords and to the soon-to-be-deposed dictator, Siad Barre, but these struck me almost as afterthoughts and did little to shape or drive the story. Similarly, Farah mentions, almost in passing, that Kalaman and his grandfather had both been imprisoned by the Somali regime for political offenses, but he fails to shed any light on how this experience might have affected the way they think or the way they react to what is going on in the country.

Some will say that I failed to grasp the subtle messages of this often-complex book. That may be. But please don't ask me to read it again. It was too much of a chore the first time.

Rating:
Summary: Overwrought
Review: There is much rich material at the heart of this 1998 novel by Nuruddin Farah. Set in pre-civil war Mogadishu, Secrets documents the internal struggle of Kalaman, a single, thirtyish Somali businessman, to find his identity and to make some sense of longstanding family intrigues. Kalaman's well-ordered life is turned upside down by the sudden reappearance of a childhood lover, Sholoongo, whose overt sexuality and mystical qualities bring an air of danger and taboo. Her demand to bear Kalaman's child, and her hinting of dark secrets in Kalaman's family, set in motion a sequence of events involving Kalaman's parents and, most especially, his grandfather Nonno, the family patriarch.

In the end, though, I found the book disappointing. Others have remarked on Farah's lyrical prose and his rich blend of myth and metaphor. To be sure, he is a very expressive writer. But in the midst of his ample metaphors, musings, and dream sequences I often lost track of just what was happening. And he seems compelled to have every character, at nearly every opportunity, spout deep quasi-philosophical ruminations about the meaning of life. People I know, including a lot of Africans, just don't talk to each other like that.

I also felt a bit cheated by the virtual absence in the storyline of the impending civil war. Blame it on the blurb-writers, but somehow I was led to believe that the backdrop of a Somalia on the edge of anarchy would make the novel more compelling and help us to better understand the fissures in Somali society that led to this point. But the burgeoning civil unrest plays only a bit part in the novel, mostly as mere offstage noise. Farah sprinkles in references to the warlords and to the soon-to-be-deposed dictator, Siad Barre, but these struck me almost as afterthoughts and did little to shape or drive the story. Similarly, Farah mentions, almost in passing, that Kalaman and his grandfather had both been imprisoned by the Somali regime for political offenses, but he fails to shed any light on how this experience might have affected the way they think or the way they react to what is going on in the country.

Some will say that I failed to grasp the subtle messages of this often-complex book. That may be. But please don't ask me to read it again. It was too much of a chore the first time.

Rating:
Summary: Worth the effort!
Review: While this book is about secrets, as its title proclaims, so is it also about family; family and the ties that bind its members sometimes into convoluted knots, sometimes into neat unison. Early in the book we are thrust into the fable-rich nature of this culture where dreams are the life-blood, myths inform decisions and names have significance beyond the obvious.

The central character, Kalaman, is the only son of Somalian Muslim parents. A childhood lover, Sholoongo, returns to Mogadiscio to seek him out and hold him to a childhood promise. This event stirs up a hornet's nest, ' making the family behave like scorpions whose hiding place has been disturbed.' Many old grievances rise to the surface and many previously unanswered questions now demand resolution.

Kalaman embarks on a search for answers by returning to his roots through his own and his family's memory. An undercurrent throughout the book, that runs parallel but submerged, is the civil strife in Somalia. The question asked is whether the breakdown in Kalaman's family is a symbol or a cause of the breakdown in greater society. In trying to make sense of himself, Kalaman, is also trying to make sense of Somalia.

The story is intriguing and whets the reader's curiosity regarding these secrets and what they could be. In the first half of the book, one feels quite bemused as many of the allusions are yet to be explained. Perseverance through this deliberate maze will be amply rewarded as things fall into place in the second half of the book.

Another striking aspect of this book is the convincing way the writer represents the relationships between the different characters. Kalaman's relationship with his grandfather, Nonno, hit a particular chord of recognition with me. It is Nonno that has coloured his life from birth onwards with myth and legend, tradition and values. His grandfather is his touchstone and his security and he cannot imagine 'what life would be like if [he] ceased to see Nonno in [his] dreams'. Kalaman too holds a special place in his grandfather's heart and mind. This renders the outcome of the secrets all the more poignant as well as highlighting the tragedy and irony when brother rises against brother.

This story is a universal one but what makes Secrets a special and remarkable read is the beautiful, sonorous, lyrical language. Never have I read a book as rich in metaphor and simile as this. Every phrase is finely crafted yet none seem contrived. The whole flows with a beauty and elegance that is startling. The characters are colourful yet realistic. A strong theme of sexuality sometimes bordering on the erotic runs through their lives and many taboos are transgressed. This all adds to the rich fabric of Secrets, making it a real find.

Farah possesses that rare ability of drawing the reader into the lives he has created until one believes that one is part of the action, indeed thinking the thoughts of the narrator. I only discovered after reading this book that it is the third in a trilogy, the first two being Maps and Gifts. I will certainly be doing my best to find them.