Reading this book is a must for those who know very little about Africa. I confess I knew very little about Sudan, too little that before reading this book Sudan was just the name of a hot, poor African country to me. Now, however, after all the laughing and crying with this book, I feel that in the middle of Africa, there's this country called South Sudan which my heart goes out to. I know its Dinkas and Nuers, I know its twenty-year-long civil war, its innocent children killed and raped and beaten. If Dave Eggers wrote this book to raise awareness about what Sudan has gone through, then I should say his mission is indeed accomplished.

2,5 *

When I picked up this book, some confused mental fumbling preceded my reading. Yes, I was disconcerted by its billing as an "autobiography" of Deng, written by Eggers as a "novel". I had initially assumed that I was dealing with a fictional autobiography along the lines of The Diary of a Chambermaid or The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman
but a smidgeon of background research assured me that I was confronted with an entirely different beast: a "novelized " (yet veracious) account of Deng's life, written by Eggers , adopting Deng's voice to bear witness to his story. Right! Once I solved this categorization conundrum, relaxed my compulsion to classify, and accepted the concept of an autobiography in the form of a novel, I settled down to read this fat volume.

And what a read! I was so thoroughly engrossed in the first third of this novel that I had to carry it around with me so that I could get in a few pages whenever spare moment allowed. Eggers adapted a nicely subdued, fairly neutral (and unwriterly) voice; the past and present tribulations of this Lost Boy unfolded seamlessly . The juxtaposition of Achak's perilous African exodus (from Sudan to Kenya via Ethiopia ) with his present-day dilemmas in Atlanta sets up an almost unbearable nail-biting tension. What!? You mean he had to flee bullets, bombs, sword-bearing horsemen and sharp-toothed predators, trudge through the elements empty-bellied and near naked for hundreds of kilometres, spend years in limbo in a refugee camp, finally get approval to emigrate to America only to (what!?) have his life threatened by a couple of nasty home invaders bent on making off with his meagre material possessions? No, for real? I suppose this is where I wonder about the fiction/reality barrier even though we are assured by Deng in his preface that the major events are true. Whatever. True, embellished, or downright invented, the first section of the book is a fantastic 5-star reading experience. The content/substance of the story itself is worth 10 stars, and Eggers' controlled use of a neutral, hyperbole-free tone actually increases the dramatic tension. About midway through the novel, though, the steam dissipates. Of course things inevitably level off a bit as the author recounts the relatively uneventful years spent in the refugee camp; the day to day tedium interspersed with minor victories and disappointments cannot compete with the devastating weight of a harrowing odyssey. On top of that, Eggar's little narrative device (Achak "telling" the story of his past to different people he encounters during the very rough day he's having in the present) gets slightly stale; akin to Forrest Gump chattering on about his life to all those folks at the bus stop. (Well I actually rather liked that movie so I don't hold anything against Eggers)

Despite some long chunks of time-held-still static in the No Man's Land of the refugee camp and hospital waiting room both, Achak's story is as disturbing as it is poignant: an extraordinary tale of survival of an endearingly ordinary young man.

When so much hype and reputation converge on such a complex and sensitive topic only to receive unchecked praise from the American publishing industry and profitable sales, I fear disaster, choir-preaching and the perpetration of harmful stereotypes. Despite my interest in African literature, in African conflicts and in the way that the developed world engages with Africa, I have been avoiding this book since I learned of its existence. A friend of mine who has lived and worked in Sudan vouched unreservedly for its authenticity and inoffensiveness and lent me her copy; I’m not mad at her.

Dave Eggers more or less avoids cheapening his subject, weakening his message or losing credibility for the duration of a book comprised of stories that would tempt a narrator with less integrity to deploy every variety of manipulative, sensationalist, suspenseful and tear-jerking prose. The result is an unflinching, straight-forward, trustworthy and revealing testimony. I have no doubt that “What is the What” has communicated more deeply about the reality of Sudan’s recent atrocities than most other products in any media. And I consider this more of an ethical accomplishment than a literary one.

Modern pragmatist philosophers (such as Richard Rorty) contend that one of the best ways to act ethically is to work towards expanding the circles of empathy of as many people as you can. They suggest doing this by telling stories from new perspectives that familiarize and humanize marginalized and oppressed peoples and by creating ethnographies that do the same work on a more scholarly level. A book like this is supposed to raise awareness, to sensitize people and to encourage action. To the extent that this book makes it harder for people to be idle or disinterested in the face of circumstances like those in the South of Sudan, it is successful; to the extent that it prompts people to take action about such circumstances, it is impressively so.

Now, I’m not thrilled with Eggers’s decision to play a little game with the genre—calling this both an autobiography and a novel—and I’m not convinced by the reasons that are given for his doing so. Nor am I entirely comfortable with the narrative tactic of making Achak Deng directly address different parts of his story to whichever American seems to be disappointing him in the contemporary portion of “What is the What.” As readers quickly discover, the chapters of Deng’s tale that transpire in Sudan, Ethiopia and Kenya are related by him (in his mind, somewhat accusingly) over the course of less than two days to Americans with whom he is interacting. It is all rather obvious that the Americans he addresses are just the cogs in the machinery of our populace, the people who refuse agency and responsibility, the people who are passive accomplices to the neglect of people like Deng—whether they struggle at dead end jobs, making change at our supermarkets or whether they struggle to survive in crude structures built of trash amidst vulnerable refugees on the far side of earth. It’s an interesting tactic, clearly built to abolish narrative distance and to refresh a sense of accountability; but it can seem a bit forced.

I don’t think the prose warrants excerpting or stylistic analysis, nor am I tempted to highlight any particular episodes of Deng’s life. There are charming bits to the story, therapeutic moments of good fortune and humanity and there are scarring accounts of human behavior at its worst. The book is worth reading for its even keeled navigation of these moments, for the insight it offers into life in a refugee camp and for the mirror that it holds up to the United States as it fails to approximate the ideal of “sanctuary.” Respect to Dave Eggers for donating the profits he could have made from this endeavor to the cause of other Lost Boys from Sudan.

Pitched in The American Novel Since 1945. It is supposed to be accessible, talks about Civil War, and alienation within the United States, feels more like a conversation. Recommended by Barnes and Noble employee....plus let's be honest....it has a high GoodReads score!

The absence of the question mark from this book title is a question Lynne Truss and I have been debating for weeks on end. In the book itself the title is a question – i.e. what is the meaning of life? – so one can only assume that Eggers left the question mark off to give the title a symmetry of sorts, or to introduce a shade of the postmodern to what is a direct, linear narrative.

Who knows. It’s not a question on the lips of most folks who read this compelling and exhausting account of Valentino Achek Deng, whose life story is the most torturous, unbelievable, and fortuitous you are likely to encounter. Eggers narrates this incredible true tale in Sudanese Deng’s English-speaking voice, from his struggles with conflict, poverty, desolation, desperation (and more or less any human suffering it is possible to tolerate) to his equally unhappy life as a refugee in post 9/11 America.

This book makes misery memoirs look like squealing little crybabies. The only thing Deng didn’t have to tolerate, in fact, was tyrannous parents. Deng as a person is not portrayed as heroic, endlessly courageous or extraordinary – he is achingly human throughout, making his struggle the more poignant. The book is most likely too much to endure for most people – its relentless gloom putters on for 535 pages, but his story is a punishing reminder of quite how terrible we in the West have let things become in Third World nations.

Cheer yo’self up this Xmas.

I can’t finish this. I was going to, just to give it a fair shot, but me being the idiot I am, left my copy on the table where someone’s root beer spilled all over it, making it a soggy, sticky mess. Though horrified at a book being destroyed, I felt almost a sense of relief knowing I wouldn’t have to pick this up again. I will not be buying another copy.

The story is actually very, very good. You’d have to be a demon spawn straight from the Gates of Hell for this story not to affect you; it is heartbreaking. But the way it was written just grated on me to where I’d be gripping the book with white knuckled frustration. Eggers taking on the voice of Valentino Achak Deng did not sit well with me--it just didn’t connect. You know how sometimes while listening to an audio book, the reader all of a sudden throws out a fake accent with a certain character and it just makes you cringe? Or in movies, when any well-known actor plays a character with a mental disability and there’s times it’s just awkward and dumb, but nobody has the balls to say anything, and they’re just lavished with Academy Awards? This book is like that.

I’ll probably give Eggers another shot someday, and might even finish this one if I can come across a cheap (and I mean cheap) used copy. No rush, though.

I can't emphasize how much I loved this book. It is written in the form of a novel but reads like a memoir. It is about a man named Valentino Deng who, as a young man, recalls his time as one of the lost boys in Sudan.

Mr. Deng is brought to the U.S. by some charitable organization and set up in an apartment in Atlanta, Georgia and enrolled in community college. Unfortunately, he is not given much instruction about American culture and the ways to keep himself safe. He has made friends and is connected with some host families that care for him genuinely and deeply. He himself is a remarkable man - kind, intelligent, hopeful, and motivated to succeed.

In the first few pages of the book, Mr. Deng answers a knock on his door without asking who it is. He opens the door and intruders enter and mug him. He is tied up on the floor, unable to speak or move for several days as the intruders slowly rob what little possessions he owns. While a prisoner of the muggers/robbers he reminisces on his childhood in Sudan and his time as one of the lost boys who has lost his family and is alone making his way across Sudan and facing many horrific dangers. He survives starvation, lion attacks, illness, the loss of close friends and suffers greatly until he reaches a refugee camp. There he remains for years in utter despair and deplorable conditions until he gets to the U.S.

The book describes how Valentino watches his parents, indiginous farmers of the Dinka tribe, executed in front of him by intruders from the north (most likely Darfur).

The title of the book is derived from a Dinka mythology. The Dinkas are indiginous people in southern Sudan. It is said that God came to them and asked them if they wanted to have life the way it was or if they wanted the 'What'. Naturally, they asked what the what was. God said he could not say. The Dinkas chose to keep the agrarian society that had worked for them over generations and the northern Sudanese were given the 'what'. I am assuming it was oil and wealth.

This book is an homage to courage, resilience and the ability to survive in the most horrific of circumstances. Mr. Eggers' writing is superb. I can't recommend this book more highly. It is brilliant, readable and will change the way you view human nature. Like me, I believe it will stay with you for a very long time.

My faith is restored in Dave Eggers! After months of plodding, I have yet to make it through  A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Toph is cute. The writing is at times fantastic. But goddamn, the ego. The rambling. The chapter-long MTV casting interview.

But I desperately wanted to like Dave. His book of short stories,  How We Are Hungry was at times beautiful. And though his second full-length book,  You Shall Know Our Velocity! was as rambling as A Heartbreaking Work, I loved its humor and desire to address the relationship of American citizens to the rest of the world.

And so I keep buying his books. The man owns a writing center that is also a pirate accessories store. How can I not keep trying to love his writing? And now, I feel smitten.

What Is the What is labeled fiction, but it is perhaps better labeled creative nonfiction. It tells the story of Valentino Achek Deng's experience as one of Sudan's "Lost Boys": a generation of Sudanese who fled from their homes during the civil war, seeking refuge in neighboring Ethiopia and then Kenya. Valentino narrates, silently telling the people he encounters on a particularly bad day in Atlanta of the atrocities he and other Sudanese witnessed and endured. The details are shocking, and to paraphrase Eggers, all the most unbelievable plot points are true.

Kudos to Dave for this eloquent and consistent book. I especially like the way he frames the retelling of Valentino's trials in Sudan (and subsequently in Ethiopia and Kenya) around an especially trying day in Atlanta. In addition to being an informative and wrenching account of the violence in Darfur, it is also an interesting portrait of modern U.S. immigrants. Also, check out my link text for an interview between valentino and dave in which they discuss how the book was made and what the profits from the book will fund.

Very informative, emotional, well written autobio of Valentino Achak Deng, a survivor and a human being. I wish him the best of everything in life and more.

It took me forever to finish this book, it took me a while to get into it and I found the parts set in the US sometimes a bit slow. Still, I can't help but give it 5 stars. Books like these should be required reading for everyone.

Pretty enthralling read but holy fuck some people have lived some terrible lives. The story is one of immense struggle, superimposing Achak / Valentino's story about fleeing South Sudan and growing up in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya with the modern problems of being an American migrant, blending memories of childhood with adult life and telling a remarkable tale. Interesting to learn about the Sudanese war and the creation of South Sudan as well, which I knew very little about..

Be warned there's a lot of death

4 stars x