THE MASQUE OF AFRICA

The Masque of Africa
Sir V. S. Naipaul

‘Masque’ comes from 16th/17th century Italian musical theatre. This masque is neither courtly nor festive. It is no entertainment, no pageant.

Sir V. S. Naipaul is one of my favourite authors. I am an avid reader of his writings and have a good collection of the author’s books. But with ‘The Masque of Africa’ he has sorely disappointed me.

In ‘Finding the Center’, V. S. Naipaul says “Half a writer’s work . . . is the discovery of his subject”. The Nobel Laureate has chosen to travel through six African countries to get to know his subject. Beginning with Uganda, the centre of the African continent, he travels through Nigeria, Ghana, Ivory Coast, Gabon and completes his journey in the southern part the continent, South Africa. He sets out to study subversion of old Africa by an outside world. It was to be a cultural one and the author succeeds in keeping it to just that in all the countries but when gets to S. Africa he plunges headlong into politics.

He has attempted to capture the mystique of some of the traditional and indigenous beliefs of the countries he visits, no single cultural unit. He touches on Animism, Islam and Christianity. It is too challenging and vast an attempt on African culture and in trying to cover too much the writing becomes sketchy and superficial. The author fails to come up with a passionate study. There is no enticement for a would-be traveller. It is not a book on African beliefs either.

As a knighted author of much fame he is, without doubt, a vip traveller in these countries he would have been given special treatment in places he went to. He is accompanied by citizens well placed – politicians, bankers and writers but throughout the book the author sounds like he is a budget traveller and often alludes to petty finance. He has no money to give for offerings to witch doctors; fails to observe the custom of taking gifts. At times he implies he’s afraid of the witch doctors in spite of his highly placed entourage. Burial places of kings, shrines, witch doctors have been randomly selected but much of the interpretations of tribal customs, the cult and invocation of spirits seems to have been covered halfheartedly.

The keen observation often shown by Naipaul as a writer comes through from time to time but not enough to redeem this book. Sad to say there is much oversight. It could be fault lies with the editor(s), agents and publisher.
The word ‘perhaps’ is used too often, once it is used four times in eight lines.
A blanket, meaningless statements occur, one example: “Near Lagos it has two wide lanes; and just as in India” – India is a continent, where in India?

The author’s love of animals is seen when he makes observations about cats and kittens but at times it is like something out of a child’s book and come as a distraction.
“In the second gateway a small white kitten with a patch of colour on its back was crying. It was like the kitten I had seen in…It was possibly the last of its litter, surviving heaven knows how. I had to leave the dainty little creature opening its mouth and crying, still remarkably whole, still nourished by the milk of its mother, now perhaps persecuted and killed.”

In “A Way in the World” Naipaul’s abhorrence to cruelty is mentioned and here too he talks about cruelty, cruelty to animals – the cruelty of eating animals like horses, elephants, cats, dogs, bats. So wherein comes the ‘un-cruelty’ of eating cows, chickens and fish I wonder.

I thought a certain amount of arrogance is displayed when visiting a Babalawo magician:
“in the corner something lavatorial and disagreeable were three shrines the oracles…”

Naipaul’s uncluttered prose is evident in all his writings. Quote: I wish my prose to be transparent—I don’t want the reader to stumble over me.
But here his unclutter borders on simplistic.
“I went to the lavatory. I saw the family dogs in two big paved cages at the back of the yard. One cage had small dogs. The other cage had big dogs, a Dalmatian and various hounds, all fine and well exercised and happy. While I watched I saw them fed by a servant who entered the cages with their food. I could have looked at the feeding scene for a long time.”

Sir Naipaul did not achieve his purpose:
“To reach that beginning was the purpose of my book”.
But he left me happy with this lovely piece of Bantu wisdom –

“YOU ARE A PERSON BECAUSE OF ANOTHER PERSON”