Wednesday, March 6, 2013

‘It is not the mystery that has changed, but the questions which are asked of it and the revelations which are expected from it’: An appraisal of Cheikh Hamidou Kane’s Ambiguous Adventure (1961)*


by Sibabalwe Oscar Masinyana


This is the most widely circulated and therefore easily accessible biographical information about Cheikh Hamidou Kane: he lives in Dakar and he was born in 1928 in Mataru in Senegal. Like most Muslims born into an Islamic family and community he began his studies at a madrasa (Islamic school) in Senegal, and then attended the University of Paris to study philosophy and law before training as an administrator at the Ecole Nationale de la France d’Outre-Mer. He returned to Senegal in 1959 to occupy a string of significant administrative posts in Mamadou Dia’s government before working for UNICEF in Lagos and Abidjan. In 1961, he published L’Aventure Ambiguë which won him the 1962 Grand Prix Littéraire de l’Afrique Noir. 

A slim work most likely, even if loosely, based on his personal experiences, Ambiguous Adventure (translated from French by Katherine Woods in 1963) is one of the best kept secrets in African literature with its continued survival assured by a devoted cult (word of mouth) following. It has recently been re-issued in a revised translation by Melville House publishers as part of their Neversink Library series that "champions books from around the world that have been overlooked, underappreciated, looked askance at, or foolishly ignored." Being the only novel Kane wrote, it shares the same mystique (and provokes the same fealty) as the other more famous singular novels written by an author –Laurence Sterne’s Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman (1758-67), Alain-Fournier’s The Lost Domain (1912), Giuseppe di Lampedusa’s The Leopard(1958), John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces (1980), and probably the most famous of them all being Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mocking Bird (1960). It has received high praise and cited as a favourite by personalities like Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe and Angélique Kidjo.


“That day, Thierno had beaten him again. And yet Samba Diallo knew his sacred verse;” thus begins the novel with the young Samba Diallo being severely punished at the madrasa by his aging teacher for mispronouncing a verse of the Holy Qur’an. The teacher is harsh, so merciless that Samba’s ear, “already white with scarcely healed scars, was bleeding anew” from Thierno’s hard pinch “cutting through the cartilage of the lobe.”  Yet, this scene of what we’d now certainly classify as child abuse is soon transformed by the teacher’s reflections as a necessary even though seemingly cruel step in ensuring that this child achieves perfection in his recitation of the Word of Allah. Thierno is a very old and highly devoted teacher responsible for the religious education of the county’s children in the school he runs on the hearth. He is highly revered and regarded as the conscience of the country, for “No one in the world, certainly, had crouched down like this so many times in his life as the teacher of the Diallobé, for no one prayed so much as he.” 

He believes that this child is a gift from Allah; “In the forty years that he had devoted himself to the task – and how meritorious a task it was! – of opening to God the intelligence of the sons of men, the teacher had never encountered anyone who, as much as this child, and in all facets of his character, waited on God with such a spirit.” Whilst listening to him correctly recite the verse, Thierno is moved anew by how the “Word of God flowed pure and limpid” from Samba’s lips. The teacher is devoted to making him a perfect hafiz because of his certainty that “So closely would he live with God, this child, and the man he would become, that he could aspire – the teacher was convinced of this – to the most exalted levels of human grandeur.”

But Thierno’s plans for the child are interrupted at the behest of Samba’s cousin, The Most Royal Lady (La Grande Royale), who insists that the child, along with other children of the elite families should attend the foreign school even though she detests it as much as everyone else in the community. She is the older sister of the Diallobé chief and the first born of the Dialloubé royal family, and although a woman (and therefore not eligible for rulership) she is nonetheless a powerful, persuasive woman with whom “no one dared hold out against for long.” “It was said that it was she, more than her bother, whom the countryside feared,” and that she had pacified the enemy tribes by her firmness and that the tribes “subjugated by her extraordinary personality had been kept in obedience by her prestige.”  She convinces the whole community that they should send their best children to the foreign schools in order to learn from their conquerors “the art of conquering without being in the right” as a way of ensuring the future of their children. 

However, the chief’s main concern, which surfaces throughout the novel, is that in learning from these new schools the children will forget. “Would what they would learn be worth as much as what they would forget?” The Most Royal Lady shares these concerns: “Perhaps the memory of us will die in them. When they return from the school, there may be those who will not recognise us.” However, she insists that for the future survival of the community they as the elders “should agree to die in our children’s hearts and that the foreigners who have defeated us should fill the place, wholly, which we shall have left free.” The rest of the novel, which chronicles Samba’s experiences as he journeys from the Dialloubé country to the foreign school and eventually to Europe to study philosophy at a university in France until his return to his native country, is an extended engagement with this question of the effects of foreign, Western, education on the psyche of the African child and adult.

To be sure – as should be obvious from the above summary – Ambiguous Adventure is dated and exhibits numerous features common to almost all post-independence African literature; in a lot of ways, it covers territory we have encountered often and that we already know more or less well through other texts. At every turn it is clear in one way or another that the work is from another time, whether due to encountering what are now historical shifts presented as having just happened or through finding some philosophical exposition that the novel hoists as a dawning, and thus perhaps to us a not yetfully developed response to some still-unfolding event. Of course this is neither a surprise nor a flaw in the author’s imaginative expression; Kane was among the first bourgeois Africans to travel and study in Europe during the colonial era and must have seen as new things that our continuous exposure to them either through books or through various media or even from personal experience now seem very quotidian. 

There is, for instance, the character of ‘the fool’ in this novel that has a very Fanonian moment of being seen for the first time as a black man by white Europeans and suffering through the “incongruity” this encounter causes within the self. There is also ‘the fool’s’ exaggerated fascination with European architecture and his reflections on the West’s alienation from nature because of streets covered in asphalt that has no end; “nowhere the tender softness of the bare earth.” Moreover, the novel has a very ‘un-novelistic’ feel to it – written more like a philosophical treatise grappling with the inevitable clash of civilizations that arose from Africa’s encounter with the physically and mentally colonialising European nations – and has such, goes on tangents that although developed admirably and organically still seem to ‘lose the plot’ as it were. 

Ambiguous Adventure shares these characteristics with several other, perhaps more spectacular, African artistic products of the time – an era when, collectively and for the first time, young extremely talented politically conscious and rabidly witty (usually male) black and/or African writers in Africa and in the diasporas and abroad were articulating enduring critiques of Western civilisation through the very tools or genres that Western education had afforded them (the novel; particular kinds of poetic and philosophical expressions; the essay; etc). Observations in the novel such as, “The new school shares at the same time the characteristics of cannon and magnet. From the cannon it draws its efficacy as an arm of combat. Better than the cannon it makes conquest permanent. The cannon compels the body, the school bewitches the soul” are observations these African writers constantly wrestled with in their work. 

Kane’s conversation with the Western philosophical, historical, scientific and even religious traditions are all subjects to which African literature kept returning to and addressing with varying levels of success. So Kane’s offering, in narrative terms, is to some extent not an outlier or necessarily one that shines the brightest even though it is amongst the most noble.The text’s quiet and humble stature, I think, is what accounts for (ambiguous) comments of/or praise such as “An interesting read, though not one I’d have picked up unprompted” or “you cannot miss that this book was written more than 40 years ago” by bloggers such as MAP-MAKER from the UK and BOOK-Man-8 from Germany, respectively; it’s as if someone has to champion the book and bring it to one’s attention as special (this is how I became aware of it) because it does not particularly stand out as a literary classic that it is due to the frequency of its themes in other more highly acclaimed or popular works and also due to the relative obscurity of its creator.

However, Kane’s work stands apart for the fact that it wasn't just the usual story about an African abroad but about a Muslim African in Europe, a confluence of identity that is now decidedly more topical than it ever was during publication of the text. As such it brings into the equation a distinctive set of considerations and a particular sensibility that are necessarily absent from most of the works of this time. This subject position offers a testimonial that, historically at least, rarely rises to prominence amidst the sheer volume of African literature that was and is often underpinned by either a focus on or the conjunction or  opposition of the Christian and/or the traditional African mythos. 

Moreover, unlike most of these texts with religion as one of the central themes, Kane’s novel is a spiritual text in that it takes seriously, without a hint of irony or ridicule, the spiritual crises that Samba undergoes both as a child who is wholeheartedly engaged in an attempt to lead a life of piety as one of Thierno’s disciplines at the Glowing Hearth and then later as an adult trying to reconcile Western intellectualism with those African and Islamic values learnt from his teacher. His princely father, The Knight, with whom he lives with briefly as a university student when he arrives overseas is another instrumental figure in Samba’s spiritual and intellectual development, and the conversations in the book between father and son are decidedly some of the most brilliant moments – philosophically and spiritually – in the entire novel. It his father who, sensing the fatigue and “profound disquietude” that is threatening to break and overwhelm his son, commands him to leave Europe and go back home in order “to learn that God is not commensurable with anything, and especially not with history, whose vicissitudes are powerless in relation to His attributes.” The Knight’s letter to Samba, which constitutes Chapter 7 of Part 2 of the novel, is one of the best and most concise discourse on the merits of religious practice (as opposed to philosophising about religion) available in any literature. 

Furthermore, Ambiguous Adventure puts to unique and effective use a stylistic approach to the novel that has since become one of the conventional frames in African literature. It is a framework that was already evident in Amos Tutuola and Chinua Achebe’s early works, was chiselled to perfection by Wole Soyinka in his novels and dramas, and underwent endless reconfigurations right up to some of the works of contemporary writers such as Ben Okri and Véronique Tadjo in varying degrees: a rubric that is skeletal on plot, heavy on philosophy and insight, unusually religious or spiritual in an almost cosmic or mythical sense, rudimentary in characterisation in preference for one or two relatively well developed characters intermingling with numerous symbolic-figure-characters rather than particularised individuals, necessarily political if not outright polemic, and set in an unspecified yet distinctively outlined (real or mythological) African context. With these troupes for a novel-text, Kane nonetheless produced an impressively succinct, thoroughly effective and extraordinarily moving – or at least persuasive – masterpiece that is Ambiguous Adventure.

But most crucial than all this (the beauty of its remarkable yet simple sentences;  the arresting but uncomplicated imagery; the sketchily plotted adventure from Africa to Europe and back again without getting lost amidst the many characters and ideas that emerge and disappear throughout the work),the thing that ultimately inspires the reader’s fierce affection for Ambiguous Adventure, I think, is its enduring authenticity – the manner with which Kane portrays the emotional, spiritual and intellectual evolution and maturity of the novel’s main character, Samba Diallo. Samba’s feelings about the trails of his journey are feelings that many African can still identify with.  

When he says, “It may be that we shall be captured at the end of our itinerary, vanquished by our adventure itself,” he speaks of a fear that many honest African intellectuals would be very familiar with. “It suddenly occurs to us that, all along our road, we have not ceased to metamorphose ourselves, and we see ourselves as other than what we were. Sometimes the metamorphosis is not even finished. We have turned ourselves into hybrids, and there we are left. Then we hide ourselves, filled with shame.” But rather than leave us condemned in this state of shame, Kane, through Samba, offers us insights to reflect upon as possible solutions to this transformation dilemma. Reading this book would go a long way to elucidate many of the spectres encountered on our own, contemporary, ongoing, but no less ambiguous, adventure.

 *This piece was originally commissioned for publication in the inaugural issue of Deviant arts journal in late 2012 but was never published.