This is the second book by Mia Couto I have read where he adopts the narrative perspective of an indigenous African, which puzzles me. A North American author of “settler” background who adopted a First Nations persona would be called out for that, I think. Surely Couto’s experience of coming of age as a Mozambican of European origin in the time of independence has its own value. Apart from this issue I have enjoyed both this book and The Last Flight of the Flamingo. Not normally a fan of “Magic Realism” but effect in Couto’s hands is similar to that of imagery in poetry.

Aquesta terra va començar a morir en el moment en què vam voler ser uns altres
Luar-do-Chão, una població rural moçambiquesa, és el lloc on es desenvolupen els fets. ( )

I suspect this book may have lost something in the translation
(this is no disparagement of the translator, more to do with the vagaries of any language and its history). It was a great story - about a young man returning to the island where he was born for his grandfather's funeral. The author has used a semi-supernatural element to explain away a medical mystery. Via this dual device, he allows the main protagonists (grandson and grandfather) to reveal the hidden secrets of the whole family. The island is beautifully evoked and there are some profound insights expressed. I just couldn't 'get with it' somehow however. As I say, I suspect his was to do with meaning being lost in translation and my own inablity to cross the culture barrier. Having said this, I am really glad I finished thi book. I will seek out this author again. ( )