The Empire of Illusion

Aminata Sow Fall, Meg Furniss Weisberg

Description

In Senegal, three modest families share a courtyard. This common space is a small paradise where they meet to cook, dine, talk, evoke memories, and grow together. At one Sunday family gathering, the usual post-meal conversation turns tense when Sada's adolescent son, Dieìry, asks why his father was so friendly with a government official at a televised ribbon-cutting the day before. The conversation quickly devolves into one about respect and duty.

In Empire of Illusion, legendary Senegalese novelist Aminata Sow Fall, explores the powerful themes of family, respect, and ethics. What respect does a son owe his father—and vice versa? How does a family maintain a balance of debate and respect? How does a person maintain self-respect when forced to swim in ethically muddy waters? Aminata Sow Fall, the matriarch of Senegalese social-realist fiction delivers yet another trenchant examination of her society, and of the universal challenge of finding, keeping, and giving respect to oneself and others.

In the dining room, at the other end of the living room: the area gives off a pleasant air of calm and happiness. A scent of lavender, a harmony of colors: very light beige walls, acacia wood furniture, moldings in beige and ocher mosaic tiles. From the ceiling, a magic lantern spreads a soft light to the four corners of the vast room. Refinement and simplicity.

Sundays at 2:00 p.m. sharp for the past fifteen years.

Yacine has finished simmering her gombo and palm oil sauce. Soupe kandia this Sunday, as only she knows how to make it—like an inspired artist. She is glowing. The joy of a foodie, for sure. But, above all, a passion long cultivated around the cooking hearth of Yaaye Diodio, her deceased mother, who brought to the culinary arts and to mealtime a considerable, even mystical, reverence. From a very young age, Yacine had thus learned to cook out of love, absorbing the secrets without feeling like she'd been learning.

Enticing smells perfume the atmosphere. The core of the "Sunday crowd" is already settled in. Sada, of course, Yacine's happy husband; Diéry, the gifted teen, the couple's pride and joy and the apple of his aunt Borso's eye; Coumba, Yacine's close friend and a full-fledged family member because Yaaye Diodio and her husband, Uncle Fara Diaw, had been welcoming her over since her tender childhood; and finally, Boly and Mignane, Sada's childhood friends, the truest of the true. Others will come: old acquaintances, close or distant relatives, neighbors.
They won't lack for food or shelter. All united in the assurance of sharing a moment of communion and rest.

Everyone is waiting for Borso, Yacine's twin. She sent a message to her sister's phone: "I'll be there in about 15 minutes."

Thirty minutes. Coumba calls to Yacine: "You know perfectly well that for Borso, the time is never a set thing!" Turning to the others, she adds, her fingers pointing to the dining room:
"The meal is ready."

Complicit silence. Everyone approves but doesn't dare say so. "And besides, why wait? It's self-serve. Even if she shows up at five p.m., there'll still be something in the belly of these big
tureens." Putting her words into action, she gets up. Straight for the dining room.

"That's you all over!" says Yacine, smiling.

"Yeah, that's me," responds Coumba, heading away, the core of the "Sunday crowd" behind her. "That's me! Borso's not going to lay down the law here. You know she'll put on a big scene
for us. Diéry will applaud and give her a kiss on the cheek. She'll calm down. No one will bring up how late she was."

Everyone dives in. Perfect conviviality. In unison, warm compliments for Yacine. She is more than a little proud to honor her mother's memory by perpetuating a tradition of joy and sharing that once gave meaning to her existence. Yacine is in heaven, and no one can doubt it, even if her legendary restraint clears her from any hint of vanity. They can see it in her gaze that speaks volumes with its light and in that discreet smile that brightens her face. Yaaye Diodio's coppery voice resonates in her heart. "Mealtime . . . a sacred celebration . . . thanks to God . . . the salutary flight of human beings back into the universe of their original purity . . . jubilation . . . the feast of the soul." And more words still to say that food is not simply a matter of the belly. This strong conviction punctuated Yaaye Diodio's almost incantatory remarks when, in the big courtyard of the family home swept by the Ocean's breezes, she had finished offering a feast to those who were lucky enough to savor her talents and her generosity. From time to time, a voice would bubble up like a magic potion and set the tone for a polyphonic chorus of lyrical compliments that would fill the atmosphere before fading into the rush of waves a few meters from the house. Dance steps would stir up the fine sand into a cloud of raucous excitement that filled the courtyard to the joy of all those present.

Sujets

• World Literature
• Literary
• África
• Literature
• General officer
• West Africa
• General
• Africa
• Family Life
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Indiana University Press
• Date de parution: 18 juillet 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780253067012
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait