Showing posts from May, 2016

297. The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

Audrey Niffenegger's The Time Traveler's Wife (2003) was one of the books I read last year or two. Again, I am not truly reviewing them. I am only talking about it. The story is about a woman who fell in love with a man with a genetic disorder that allows him to unpredictably travel through time. This unpredictability of his travels led to several problems in that relationship. However, through some means involving the future self of Henry, the man, Clare - the woman - got pregnant and gave birth to a daughter, Alba. Alba was also diagnosed with chrono-impairment, the genetic disorder that causes time travel; however, Alba was able to control her destinations and the times of her travels. The story seems to be about waiting for love and the problems that arise from such waiting. It is weird. This novel defies classification: is it a love story? Is it a science fiction? Have you read this novel? What's your opinion?

Quotes from My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk*

Before my birth there was infinite time, and after my death, inexhaustible time. [Page 3] Four years after I first left Istanbul, while traveling through the endless steppes, snow-covered mountains and melancholy cities of Persia, carrying letters and collecting taxes, I admitted to myself that I was slowly forgetting the face of the childhood love I'd left behind. With growing panic, I tried desperately to remember her, only to realize that despite love, a face long not seen finally fades. [7] When you love a city and have explored it frequently on foot, your body, not to mention your soul, gets to know the streets so well after a number of years that in a fit of melancholy, perhaps stirred by a light snow falling ever so sorrowfully, you'll discover your legs carrying you of their own accord toward one of your favorite promontories. [11] After I took care of that pathetic man, wandering the streets of Istanbul for four days was enough to confirm that everyone wit

296. My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk

This belongs to the books I read when my interest in read was waning. I did not get to review it. And I am not going to do so now. Again, I am going to state what I remember of this book so we can discuss it, if you have read it.  One of the reasons I wanted to read Pamuk was that he is a Nobelist, having won it in 2006. Besides, he's Turkish and the Turkish have a rich history including the Ottoman Empire, making it a joy to read the level of sophistication of the time. This book covers a lot in just over 500 pages. I cannot seem to recollect and link the strands but this is what I remember: Each character narrates his part of the story in the first person in chapters dedicated to him or her. Thus there are multiple narrators in the story who are aware of each other. The narrators know each other and they know they are characters. The story begins with a murder with the would-be murder narrating his part of the story followed by a dog and a tree; The narrators are also awa

295. Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

Usually, when I read a book I make an attempt  at reviewing and sharing with my readers. Sometimes attempt fails. Sometimes it feels like smugness: why should anyone pay attention to you when there are a thousand splendid reviews on the same book. This feeling becomes worse when I am talking about a non-African book. Consequently, I am changing the tack today. Today, we are all going to review this beautiful, and yet unsettling, book together. Yes, you and I - we; that is, if you have read it. this Kafka on the Shore is a story of two strands: the story of the 15-year old Kafka Tamura around whose neck, or on whose head, lay a huge chunk of Oedipal curse; and an old Nakata who lost a large part of his mental faculties when he survived a long coma induced by strange lights somewhere in the forests during the World War II, when he was a child. Nakata, however, gained the ability to talk to cats and to make strange things happen, like making leeches fall from the sky. Kafka on

A Lady’s Handbag

I am sharing with you my first poem in more than two years.  You were like a lady’s handbag Cavernous Binging on all the lists they provided; You were ravenous… Having not learnt the hows and whens of letting go you swallowed all:             the pens, the sandals             the pains, the scandals You imbibed them and you swell, like a river in July, and hanged on On a branch whose xylem has been beaten by the Harmattan On a ledge whose underbelly has been eaten by salt On a hand that gets weaker every step of the thousand miles And the wind came and broke the branch and shook your outstretched hand and the bag fell from its ledge onto their torrid faces Exposing the dross – The gross congeries of misshapen things; An amorphousness Of memories lost and forgotten Of things seen and unidentified Of events fluxed in the static-fluidity of time You laid there A consciousness of shattered things under th

Currently Reading...

This week something nudged me. I have not been reading for sometime. It has been about two years of leave, an unnecessarily hiatus, from reading. But then I had lost the joy of reading. The beauty and fun of being in multiple places at the same time; of being in people's world; of being both an active and passive observer of lives. Of this, several things played a part. I discovered other things, both good and bad. I found myself reading more of 'social media stuff'; playing games; and others. Nothing pushed me to read. Within this period, I also participated less in literary activities. In fact, I have not written a poem in more than two years (excluding Haiku, which I indulged in once in a while).  But on Sunday, out of nowhere, something nudged me. It suddenly occurred to me that I'm missing my books. So I went to pick up Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami . It was the last book I abandoned. Now I am enjoying it. And I believe reading is going to be fun

Writers Project of Ghana's Book and Discussion Club - Books for the next three Readings

The Writers Project of Ghana has selected the following books for its next three readings: May: The Diamond as Big as the Ritz by F. Scott Fitzgerald . This is a collection of short stories; June: The Mirror of the Sea by Joseph Conrad . This story was published together with A Personal Record by Penguin Classics in an eponymous book titled The Mirror of  the Sea & A Personal Record ; July: Daisy Miller by Henry James .  Copies of these books are available at the EPP Bookshop Legon. For inquiries about joining the book club please email bookclub[at]