Reviews for Voices from within

The average rating for Voices from within based on 2 reviews is 4 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2019-08-11 00:00:00 Will Roy I remember finding Noémia de Sousa online and then in a looseleaf literary piece while in Portugal. I had nothing but time in Portugal, so I sat at a cafe and slowly tried to translate her verse, using a portable Portuguese translator. Canção fraterna Irmão negro de voz quente o olhar magoado, diz‑me: Que séculos de escravidão geraram tua voz dolente? Quem pôs o mistério e a dor em cada palavra tua? E a humilde resignação na tua triste canção? The more I read, the more I realized her poetry spoke to me at a soul level. So when I bought this collection, the first country I turned to was Mozambique. And there she was: (Noémia de Sousa, by Club of Mozambique) From: If You Want to Know Me If you want to know who I am, examine with careful eyes that piece of black wood which an unknown Maconde brother with inspired hands carved and worked in distant lands to the North. de Sousa was born in Mozambique and educated in Brazil. She was a writer and newspaper editor who later had to live in exile after she was jailed briefly in Mozambique for her writing during the liberation movement. She then lived in France and Portugal; which, by the way, is something you see often: writers, or refugees and asylum seekers from the African diaspora living in exile from the countries of their birth (for many different reasons). And so I get to why this collection is such a treasure. It is pieced together by countries within the African continent, an eclectic and enthralling mix of poetic forms and an introduction to renowned poets you may have never heard about. I next turned to a familiar name, Ellis Ayitey Komey, a Ghanian poet and contributor to West African Review. His poem has sensory images that evoke nostalgia: From: Oblivion I want to walk among the palms With their razor-edged leaves Shadowing the yam and cassava shrubs Under which the crab builds its castle Mukula Kadima-Nzuji, a poet from the Democratic Republic of Congo, has published three collections of poetry, yet it is possible you may not have come across any. "Love in the Plural" is one of my favorites because of its nuance and texture: neither this sobbing ocean in the moon of your swelling voice nor the milky vapour on the window of my waking nor this flood of men in the margin of my shadow which yearns for a safe shelter nor the slipstreams on camelback in the desert of my solitude nor the spindrift nor the seaweeds pillows for my storm-filled head are able to decipher where I inspect myself in vain the reverse side of mirrors. Some of the poems are heavy in historical context, some reflections of the evolution of the continent. Some are songs of war, songs for freedom. Some are landscape poems, some love poems, some reflections. Some have traditional line breaks while others are enjambment. Some drip with meaning and emotion, some are abstract and one would have to understand the context to understand the poet. For instance, you would have to know the tragic history of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) (Congo-Kinshasa) to understand why there is a section for the DRC and a separate one for the Congo Republic (Congo - Brazzaville). You will have to understand what led to violence in Sierra Leone in order to appreciate how Syl Cheney-Coker, a Sierra Leoneon poet who studied at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and taught in Nevada, wrote about those precursors to violence and had to live exiled in America: but already the walls are closing around me the rain has stopped and once again I am alone waiting for them, the politicians of our country to come for me to silence my right to shouting poetry loud in the parks but who can shut up the rage the melodrama of being Sierra Leone the farce of seeing their pictures daily in the papers While leafing through Nigeria, I enjoyed the lyric and sound of John Pepper Clark's "Olokum" or "Goddess of the Sea:" I love to pass my fingers As tide through weeds of the sea And wind the tall fern-fronds Through the strands of your hair Dark as night that screens the naked moon For personal reasons, I was saddened that there was one country missing (Liberia). But one would have to understand the history of the literary arts in Liberia (or lack thereof), particularly of poetry, to know that although she hasn't been included in the past by older generations, Liberia is still being written (will be written) into literature by her offsprings that form this generation. Until then, I leave you with a poem that is a reminder. It is from Tchicaya U Tam'si who was born in the Congo Republic and lived in France (with his father, a diplomat from Congo), where his work for UNESCO enabled him to travel frequently to Africa: You must be from my country I see it by the tick of your soul around the eyelashes and besides you dance when you are sad you must be from my country

Review # 2 was written on 2016-09-15 00:00:00 Thomas Fortuna Κριτική και στα Ελληνικά στις βιβλιοαλχημείες In summer 2016 I ordered nine books, all from the continent of Africa, apart from one (The Oxford Book of Caribbean Verse) a region of the Americas closely related with Africa. Part of this book-haul was the book I'll talk today. I started parallel reading it between 05/08/16 and 05/09/16 along with the 7 African novels I bought: 1] Under the Frangipani Country: Mozambique, Language: Portuguese 2] Disgrace, Country: South Africa, Language: English 3] In the Country of Men Country: Libya, Language: English 4] A Grain of Wheat Country: Kenya, Language: English 5] Lyrics Alley Country: Sudan, Language: English 6] My Father's Wives Country: Angola, Language: Portuguese 7] Half of a Yellow Sun Country: Nigeria, Language: English So at the beginning of September when I finished the seventh and last book, and since I was beginning an entirely different book from an entirely different continent and era (Leave It to Psmith) I felt that it was time to leave the African Poetry aside and read it with my next African novel so to the shelf it went. I returned five more times to this book before finishing it: (24/09/17… 16/04/18… 31/07/19… 11/08/19… 14-15/08/19) Africa is a continent usually neglected when it comes to literature. Especially if the country is a non-English-speaking one, then there are two barriers, one of them the translation into English. A lot of the African books I have in my wish-list are out of print but whenever they arrive in my hands I'm joyful. But August 2016 was the month where I brought African literature from the margin to the foreground. It was the year when I decided it was time to make my reading much more diverse. Much more colourful, and therefore much more interesting. So as I said I was parallel reading this poetry anthology in August 16, along with seven African novels. So last August I said to myself. -You've just finished with Shakespeare's mammoth volume of poetry. Why not finish the African Poetry one, after four years? And that's what I did. And I felt a relief and a joy. Of course I can't write a typical review for a book that contains poetry from 27 different countries, 99 different poets, 315 different poems, and from at least four different countries. A mosaic of cultures, voices, myths, traditions, songs. A tapestry of History, pain, exile, love, conflict, civilisation. This book is like a portal to Africa. You learn about the country through the poem, and you want to learn even more, so you start looking for more books from this country, and you end up expanding your horizons every year.