Interpreting "The Interpreters"

I received the copy of Wole Soyinka’s The Interpreters 2 weeks ago. Little by little, I devour its page until the nagging and persistent boredom attacks me. Bit by bit, I try to understand its meaning. Whether I’m sitting aboard the usual morning jeepney ride, or standing in the LRT, I read it as I used to read C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia. The difference is, I’m quite dead bored. I CANT interpret The Interpreters.

That I am lost somewhere in pages 40-50 after a two-week period of possessing the book is a proof that I am losing the grip of reading it.

Un autor difícil pero lleno de color, sabores y sonido. Dos o tres escenas principales y las demás complementarias que hacen de la estructura un desafío. A los que gustan del caos en la línea narrativa nos puede enganchar fácil. Trama: La cotidianidad de los sesenta en Lagos con mucha teatralidad. Soyinka es un dramaturgo muy bueno que hace unos diálogos muy bien logrados y con mucha interpretación. Feliz de haberlo terminado. Seguro pasará mucho tiempo antes de volver a leerlo.

Funny advanced and important writing, although didn't like the chopped timplanes and long dialogues.

A must read for
everyone

Gli interpreti non è un vero e proprio romanzo: la narrazione è frammentaria, fatta di episodi ambientati ora nelle periferie e lungo i fiumi percorsi in canoa, ora negli uffici e negli appartamenti degli intellettuali. Interpreti sono i personaggi, che cercano di dare un senso ad una nuova situazione socio-culturale in cui fermenti di rinnovamento culturale e religioso si fondono con la permanenza di abitudini dure a morire. Ma interprete deve essere un po'anche il lettore, che deve destreggiarsi fra nomi, concetti della cultura nigeriana e un linguaggio molto difficile, simbolico, con metafore che rampollano le une sulle altre e lunghe sequenze di ricordi o visioni che intaccano il filo della narrazione. Questa necessità analitica e la fatica richiesta dalla prosa rendono la lettura molto impegnativa: i significati si disperdono, la sintassi si contorce e anche la concentrazione ne risente.
http://athenaenoctua2013.blogspot.it/...

First novel by the
First African Nobel=Lit and my
First AWS in a year chock=full of AWS. And wouldn't you know?, there's a pretty clear whiff of something Pynchonian here too, something maybe of V, something about that whole sick crew; here, the interpreters. And too the whiff of the Voidante Philosophy ("To shit is human, to voidate divine") alone is enough to suspect the affinity (nope, no spoilers).

I fought with this one for too long, and am joining the ranks of the people who gave up on it.

It's so dense. I found it impossible to understand what the author was getting at, likely because I don't understand post-colonial Nigeria enough to make the connections to that world from the odd behaviour and dialogue of the characters. Segoe loathes the wardrobe... but what is the wardrobe, really? I have not a single clue.

Every page is baffling. I just can't stare at it any longer.

Good books

Nice

1964

Exceptionally challenging read, but Soyinka does incredibly well to capture the feelings and experiences of Nigerian elites returning to the country post-independence.

I am either too dumb or have forgotten too much of high school English to even begin understanding this book. I was especially excited to read it after finishing another book by a Nigerian. After reading the first 30 pages, I was completely lost. After 60, I thought it was all starting to make sense, but i'm not sure anymore. What is this book about? Something to do with being on a river and maybe some parties in leaky huts? I really just don't have a clue. Soyinka won the Nobel Prize for literature and I kind of feel like either his plays must be much more coherent or the emperor is naked.