My official picture from Reuters is just too cool for school

I love this photo. It has exactly that writerly air, serious, pensive that I fear I will never successfully convey. Here I look like I am contemplating great thoughts about the great books I will write one great day. This was taken in the Reuters building on Time Square in New York, I have been meaning to blog about my experiences on that day. Kush and I went along for an interview, he ended up playing catch with some of the producers and camera guys there, while I had a highly amusing encounter with a secuirity guard who wrote on my visitor's pass that I was "Schengener Staaten", visiting Reuters. Now the German speakers among you will know that Die Schengener Staaten are what English speakers call the Schengen States, so there is a great story there, which I will blog about soon.

So anyway, I came upon this photo quite by chance, a friend pointed me to a profile that Ben East put together for The National, a newspaper published in the United Arab Emirates, which carried this photo. It looked familiar, but I could not imagine whre it was from. I looked at the credit, and bingo, it was Reuters! And here it is, on Day Life. Nice.

I really like the profile that Ben East wrote, I truly recognised myself in his words, which was lovely. He also picked up on my insecurities without waving a red flag and drawing attention to them. This was a sensitive and thoughtful profile from someone who has read my book, and read it with intelligence. I especially liked his appreciation of what this book means to me, and how its success is something that I cannot separate from the success of my country. Here are his concluding paragraphs:

...[T]he rewards for Gappah are potentially huge – not just financially but in terms of how the deserved success of this first collection will thrust the spotlight on how life is in Zimbabwe. It is quite something for a new author who admits there was no initial coherent plan for An Elegy For Easterly. “I just wrote stories, one after the other, in part to test and stretch their writing,” she says with some bafflement at the praise they’re receiving. “So it’s difficult for me to talk about an intention behind the book. But if anything, my success is good news for a country sorely in need of it.” Zimbabwe might well be in need of such news. But the rest of the world is sorely in need of authors such as Gappah.

Thank you, Ben East.

Photo credit: Reuters.

And then there was Harare ... and Chishawasha, too

Some Harare highlights, in no particular order:

1.My mad and madly talented sister Regina giving the performance of her life as M'dhara Vita, from my story The Mupandawana Dancing Champion ... and Tariro joining her as the Fashion and Fabrics teacher. The teacher was here. M'dhara Vita was there. The teacher was there. M'dhara Vita was here. Vakamira hoo-o muHarare!

2.Amazing Amanzi. Thank you, Anna, Andrew and the team for an incredible afternoon, featuring the best Pimms, Malawi shandies and the coldest beer this side of Enterprise Road. And sushi! In Harare! 

3.Seeing the glowing pride of my parents, and all my family. MaininiMaiLibby singing tunelessly into the microphone. I hereby petition the unity government to enact a law compelling MaininiMaiLibby not to come within 5 metres of a microphone.

4.The crazy, crazy party at home later that night, featuring MaininiMaiLibby dancing the chipisi. I hereby petition the unity government to enact a law compelling MaininiMaiLibby to dance chipisi and kongonya on every national occasion.

5.The amazing response to the book from people in all walks of life, from the residents of the golden triangle, to the gardeners, security guards, waiters and domestic workers who work there. MbuyaVaTerry and MbuyaGwaze actually fishing out their money to buy copies. MaininiLast and SekuruArthur. MbuyaVaTapiwa.

7. There was great media presence: I was gratified to see people from the Zimbabwe Culture Fund, the Financial Gazette, Herald and Kwayedza.

7.My brother Uchi, who turned up unexpectedly, as he did in Joburg, and who really has to stop stalking me now.

8.Musa Zimunya and his lovely speech, and his intelligent appreciation of my book.

9.Memory Chirere unotamba bakiti. What a star!

10. My little kazi Fungisai rousing the crowd with a stirring rendition of her classic hit "Makomborero".

11.Seeing all my relatives, and truly understanding the benefits of the African extended family. That right there, fellow African writers, is a captive market.

12.Seeing all my old friends, and some new Facebook friends too. And making new friends! Thank you, Roger, for the Zimbabwe Review.

13.Visiting my old school, St. Dominic's in Chishawasha to find that nothing has changed beyond the new location of the library and staff room, and the new A-level complex where poor blind MbuyaLucia's hut used to be. Seeing Matron Padya in the kitchen reading, of all people, Somerset Maugham. Seeing Matron Masenda in the middle of yelling about a missing bucket. These matrons instilled in us Santa girls a love for neatness and order unequalled by any other schoolgirls in the history of Zimbabwe. Was most amused by Matron Masenda's tirade, for, I, too, once misplaced a bucket and a cleaning rag, all on one famous thorough-cleaning day in 1986, and how I heard about it from Matron.

14. The messages that people wrote to me after the launch. I was especially moved by my friend Rumbi who wrote: "On Saturday, time stood still, and Zimbabwe rejoiced in your success".

15. Thank you, Rumbi. Thank you, Regina. And Dono. Moms and Pops. Irene and Murray who got the books through. Andrew and Anna. Everyone who came so generously to celebrate this daughter of that soil. Nhasi ndezvedu. Thank you, Zimbabwe.

In no particular order ... twenty-four highlights of an incredible week in the Western Cape

1. Meeting Jenny Crwys-Williams. Talking to her, being interviewed by her. Listening to her interviewing other writers.  Her intelligent appreciation of my book. Of any book she likes. Her zeal and appetite for life, her energy and love for books. Her shimmering charisma.

2. Hearing Christopher Hope read the strangest and most bizarre story I have heard in a long time. Anytime Christopher Hope opened his mouth to say anything at all.  His kindness, warmth and erudition.

3. My brother, Uchi, who was with me every step. His good humour. His fearlessness in talking to the great and the good. His pride in me. His ability to change a tire without getting stain of grease on his hand.

4. So this woman in Cape Town with the clearest skin and the longest hair asks me to sign a book for her and her husband André. I go to Franschhoek to find that the André whose name I wrote so breezily is none other than André Brink. I spend a wonderful morning with them, and he has nothing but kind advice for me.

5. My bookshelf coming to life and walking and talking and eating and laughing with me. Christopher Hope and Justin Cartwright. Vikas Swarup and Sindiwe Magona. André Brink and Alexandra Fuller.

6. More silver and gold - reconnecting with old friends, Justin, Darrel. Making new friends, Phakama, Lauren, Mervyn.

7. The very funny and very tall Tom Eaton.

8. Meeting new writers. Pippa Green. Max du Preez.  Peter Harris.

9. Buying books, books and then some more books.

10. Meeting Phakama Mbonambi, the gentlest, most generous and most unassuming man, and collecting all editions of his journal Wordsetc.  He is wonderfully ambitious. In an age when magazines are closing down, he has launched an unashamedly literary journal.  Go Phakama.

11. Seeing the piles of my book get smaller and smaller everywhere I went. Signing my fingers sore. Meeting readers. Zimbabweans. South African. Men. Women. And even two children.

12. A chance to do one of the things I love best, mentoring and giving career advice and guidance to young lawyers, in this case, Katy, through her father. Katy, if you are reading this, stay away from a pure human rights law degree.  You can learn that stuff in your sleep. Mix it up with some edgy stuff, like international criminal law and humanitarian law. A good solid degree in international law may also take you further.

13. Having lunch with Jonathan Ball, publisher, man of letters and living legend.  And sharing his mussels.

14. A TV interview, two TV interviews, loads of radio, magazine and newspaper interviews that did not focus only on the politics of Zimbabwe.  Talking up a storm with some wonderfully funny and well-read journalists.

15. Vikas Swarup insisting that his wife take a picture of us.  Me and the Slumdog Millionaire together, I quip. Oh I am the slumdog, he says, and you’ll soon be the millionaire.

16. My session with Alexandra Fuller, which veered spectacularly from the topic but was the most fun panel I have been on in years and years.  Alexandra Fuller is a dangerous woman.  She is my new best friend. She kind of has to be, because I have no intention of getting on the wrong side of that woman.

17. Meeting Sindiwe Magona, the most energetic and buzzing woman on the planet.  Sharing banter with her. Her lovely new book. Her energy. Her passion for quality indigenous writing. Her shining goodness. Between her and Jenny Crwys-Williams, they could sort out all that ails South Africa, and all the countries beyond.

18. Lauren Beukes and Mervyn Sloman and everyone at the Book Lounge.

19. Meeting booksellers from all over South Africa and seeing their commitment to books. Getting a better understanding of how that side of publishing works.

20. Hanging and cruising with Jean and Nicky and David and everyone at Bookpromotions.

21. Hanging and cruising with Will Atkinson of Faber and getting to know him better.  Listening to his presentation of the new Faber books, and his great news about three Faber writers. Lorrie Moore’s new novel is out soon. After ten years, there is a new Barbara Kingsolver. I have seen her manuscript,  it is huge. I read the first chapter. Sizzling.  There will also be a new Paul Auster, I have the galley copy. For a reader as voracious as I am, does life get any better than this?

22. The incredible efficiency of the Franschhoek festival organizers and all the volunteers.

23. The intimate warmth of the festival.

24. And the heart-stopping beauty of the Franschhoek valley.

"Easterly" events in South Africa .. and in Zimbabwe!

My wonderful publicists in South Africa have arranged what can only be described as the ultimate media blitz. I have not seen anything like it. In the next ten days, I will be appearing on everything from the SABC Africa television channel to magazines like Marie Claire, Fairlady, The Oprah Winfrey magazine, newspapers as varied as The Cape Times, Pretoria News and The Sunday Independent and radio shows like SAFM Otherwise, Metro FM and Talk 702 with Jenny Cwrys-Williams. I also have four launches for the book, one in Cape Town tomorrow night, two in Johannesburg the following week, and the final one in Harare. I love these events because they connect me with readers and with friends old and new. I am an invertrate collector of people and of friends, and it always thrills me when I go somewhere and there is a friend in the audience. And as many of my friends live in Safrica and Zim, many of whom I have not seen in simply yonks and yonks, there will be many a teary hug. So see you in South Africa and in Zimbabwe if you can make it.

Reading and re-reading "Brooklyn" by Colm Tóibín

How extraordinary.  I have been catching up on the shows I taped while I was away, I have just finished watching last week's Newsnight Review, which featured Brooklyn, the luminous new novel by Colm Tóibín.  I cannot stop talking about it, and am recommending it to everyone. 

I had the priviledge of hearing Colm read from it a few weeks ago in Galway, I got into Galway at 7:30pm, I was absolutely shattered, but I decided to go to his reading, it started just 30 minutes later at at 8:00pm.  I was a walking zombie, but I woke up as soon as he started reading. He has this beautiful voice, full of richness and expression and just general Irishness.  I picked up the book after the reading, didn't even wait for him to sign it, and I read almost half of it before I drifted off asleep.  I had such a busy day the next day, things got a little too much for me, and you can imagine my horror when I mistakenly packed Brooklyn up with other books that I wanted to post to myself in Geneva.  I only realised my mistake quite late, and frantically looked to see if the bookshop was still open.  I told my woe to Maureen and Orla, two of the  festival organisers, and they were absolute stars, they somehow rustled a copy, and not just any old copy, but a copy signed by Colm himself, signed to me.  I finished it on my flight to Geneva.  I read with Colm last Saturday in New York, he read again from Brooklyn, and as soon as I got back home, I started reading it again.

What is so extraordinary is that I kept thinking of my dear Jane Austen as I read it, and in his interview on Newsnight, Colm said he was influenced greatly by Austen in writing this novel. He wanted to produce a linear story, with no flashbacks, and with clean, pared down prose. I got a very strong sense of Austen reading it, it is an intense but quiet novel in which not much appears to happen, it is a meditation on the inner life of its heroine, Eilis.  And like in my favourite Austen novel, Emma, there is no antagonist, there are no baddies, there is no evil, just the malicious spite of a small town gossip who plays a pivotal role in sealing Eilis's fate.  

I cannot tell you how much I love this book. 

My new favourite bag is a Billy bag

I have not talked about fashion and frivolity in a while, so here is a post about my new favourite handbag, a Billy bag.  

I was at Dublin airport about a week ago, and bought what is now the most beautiful bag I own. It is by a designer who used to work on the accessory collection at Burberry, but it is nothing in the Burberry price range, it was on sale for 50 euro. It is well made and distinctive, stylish and practical.  It reminds me of the Trading Company fabric bags from Zim that I loved so much. Here it is as advertised on www.billybag.com. 

Readings from Around the Globe at the 92nd Street Y Unterberg Poetry Centre

This picture says more than I can write about what a glorious night the "Readings from around the Globe" night was. From left to right, Michael Ondaatje, Bernardo Atxaga, Hwang Sok-Yong, me, Colm Tóibín, Mariken Jongman and Daniel Sada.  Colm and I are trying to hide glasses of whisky behind our backs.  He has more of a poker face than I do, clearly.  

It was, quite simply, one of the best evenings of my life -  discovering three wonderful writers I did not know, and who are now must-reads and friends, reading to an appreciative audience that included two of my best friends, meeting new readers and signing my first copies of Easterly on American soil, and receiving the approbation of Michael Ondaatje and Colm, two of my household gods. I have no words to describe it all, so I will let you just enjoy the pictures. See more at this link. 

Photo credit: Beowulf Sheehan/PEN American Centre.

The execution of Delara Dalabi

I cannot be objective about the death penalty. I am aware of the arguments in favour of it, but I cannot accept a single one because not one of them is valid. When I was younger, I was known to be a little irrational when the subject came up, I threw a book at someone once, and I ended a relationship with someone who supported hanging in Zimbabwe.  I am no longer driven by the helpless fury that characterised most of my thinking on this in former days, but sometimes, I read a story that makes me burn with rage, rage chaiyo.  

Iran has just hanged Derala Dalabi, a woman who may have been innocent of the crime she was convicted for. She may also have been guilty. That is not the issue. The issue was this, that her case created so many doubts that Iran's highest judicial authority stayed her execution while her case was under review.  She got a two-month stay.  But this was not good enough for the prison authorities. In defiance of the procedural law of their own country, they hanged her. According to this BBC story, she called her mother just before she was killed and this is what happened.

"Mother they are going to execute me, please save me,"she said, before a prison official took the phone away and said: "We are going to execute your daughter and there is nothing you can do about it."

I keep reading that sentence: we are going to execute your daughter and there's nothing you can do about it.  

The man who says these words is drunk on his power, he snatches the phone from Delara's hand, possibly waiting until she is particularly emotional.  Not content to exercise this power over her, he must extend the empire of his control directly to her mother, she must know, she must feel, the power he has over her daughter: we are going to execute your daughter, and this not being enough, he turns the knife, he gloats, he exults: and there's nothing you can do about it. 

This is the tyranny of the petty tyrant with a little, just a little power.  Just think how many poor and defenceless people around the world are in such hands, just how many such tyrants are prison officials, policemen, teachers, pastors, men with small power over vulnerable people. When we talk of human rights abusers, we talk of the Mugabes and the Konys, the Charles Taylors, the Milosevics. These men create a framework, they created situations in which abuses flourished, but is men like this who are the willing violators, petty officials with just a bit of power.  

I think of Hannah Arendt again and again, and what she said about the nature of evil. 

After this, the man will have put down the phone, and with others, he will have done what he had to do. He would then have gone home to his wife and children, and smiled because his little boy told him something that shows just how clever the boy is.  Just like his father, heh, heh, heh,  he says to his wife and she smiles and  brings him a pot of hot green tea because she knows that is what he likes to drink at this time. 

It is frightening to know that there is that much evil in the world, hidden behind cheerfulness, normality, beneath the dull banality of ordinary lives.   

Evolution and revolution at The Moth in New York

This blog post comes to you from fabulous New York city, where last night I had one of the most incredible experiences of my life. As part of the PEN World Voices Festival, in which I am a participant, The Moth hosted five performers who told live stories around the theme evolution and revolution.  

Yes, you read that right. Told live stories.  

So there I was up on stage, with no text in front of me for protection, just me and the microphone and a very large audience.  

First came a brilliant introduction featuring a teddy bear and Darth Vader, from our host, stand-up comedian Tom Shillue who is a frequent presence on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.   

The first story of the night was an incredibly funny one from Boris Timanovsky, about the lengths he was driven to when his young son declined to be the pen pal of the young daughter of a business colleague - he ended up opening a new email account and pretending to be his young son because he did not want to let down the expectant little girl. Laughter was ringing  as my name was called up and I told the second story of the night, the story of my first year at Alfred Beit School, and the song we sang about the glories of the Pioneer Column.  I was delighted by the reception my story received. 

After that, the evening only got better. The third story was told by a hilarious woman called Bokara Legendre, a teeny, elegant woman with  the most wonderful voice and a shimmering stage presence who told a story about how she found peace trekking on a dark night in Kathmandu in a gown and strappy high-heeled gold sandals after finding herself stranded without transport, having gatecrashed the coronation party for the King of Nepal.  She later told me that she had been in Salisbury around independence and had interviewed both Smith and Mugabe. 

We then had a translated story from Làszlo Garaczi, a Hungarian writer and translator, about how, though various car mishaps, he changed from being an atheist to an agnostic. The final storyteller was Salman Rushdie, who told us about his time among the Sandinistas in Nicaragua in the period just before he began to write The Satanic Verses.  Salman Rushdie was a revelation. I had met him the night before at a party, he was not only very charming but he seemed really interested in everyone around him.  There was a nice touch when he worked a central theme of Làszlo Garaczi's story into a very effective aside in his own story -  he has one of those highly absorbent minds that is a delight to watch at work. 

It was an absolutely fabulous evening.   There were copies of my book available for people to buy, a lovely surprise as it only comes out in the United states on 28 May.  It looks gorgeous.  I will be reading from this version of my book tonight. I am on a panel billed as a "star-studded around the globe adventure", featuring  Bernardo Atxaga, Mariken Jongman, Michael Ondaatje, Daniel Sada, Hwang Sok-Yong, Antonio Tabucchi, and Colm Tóibín. 

I will post an update after the event.