ion>
THE AFRICAN
J. M. G. Le Clézio was born in 1940 in Nice, France, the descendant of a family from Brittany that emigrated to Mauritius in the eighteenth century. His first novel, Le Procès-Verbal, won the Prix Renaudot in 1963. He is the author of more than forty works and was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2008.
C. Dickson lived in West Africa for five years and now lives in France. Among her numerous translations are two other novels by Le Clézio, Desert and The Prospector.
Praise for J. M. G. Le Clézio:
‘A genuinely brilliant author’ The Guardian
‘A writer of something akin to genius’ Sunday Telegraph
‘Le Clézio lulls the reader into a hypnotic state, and the power of his prose reliably survives translation’ The Spectator
‘Mr. Le Clézio is like a post-Darwin Rousseau, decrying the ruination of indigenous cultures around the world’ Wall Street Journal
‘Author of new departures, poetic adventure and sensual ecstasy, explorer of a humanity beyond and below the reigning civilization’ Swedish Academy, 2008 Nobel Prize
Also available from Editions Gallic:
The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery
The Vatican Cellars by André Gide
Clisson and Eugénie by Napoleon Bonaparte
The Gourmet by Muriel Barbery
I Remember by Georges Perec
J. M. G. LE CLÉZIO
THE AFRICAN
J. M. G. LE CLÉZIO
THE AFRICAN
Translated by C. Dickson
Gallic Books
London
A Gallic Book
First published in France as L’Africain by Mercure de France Copyright © J. M. G. Le Clézio, 2004
First published in English in the USA in 2013 by
David R. Godine, Post Office Box 450, Jaffrey,
New Hampshire 03452
Translation copyright © C. Dickson, 2013
First published in Great Britain in 2020 by Gallic Books,
59 Ebury Street, London, SW1W 0NZ
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention
No reproduction without permission
All rights reserved
A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9781910477847
Typeset in Minion by Carl W. Scarbrough and Gallic Books
Printed in the UK by CPI (CR0 4YY)
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
CONTENTS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The photographs and map are from the author’s personal archives.
Map of the Banso medical area, western Cameroon
Tamacheq inscriptions in the Hoggar (Algeria)
“Samba” tribal dances, Bamenda
In the vicinity of Laakem, Nkom country
Herd of cattle near Ntumbo, Nsungli territory
Dance in Babungo, Nkom country
EVERY HUMAN being is the product of a father and a mother. One might not accept them, might not love them, might have doubts about them. But they’re there, with their faces, their attitudes, their mannerisms and their idiosyncrasies, their illusions, their hopes, the shape of their hands and of their toes, the colour of their eyes and hair, their manner of speaking, their thoughts, probably their age at death, all of that has become part of us.
For a long time I dreamt that my mother was black. I’d made up a life story, a past for myself, so I could flee reality when I returned from Africa to this country, to this city where I didn’t know anyone, where I’d become a stranger. Then when my father came back to live with us in France upon his retirement, I discovered that in fact it was he who was the African. It was hard for me to admit that. I had to go back in time, start all over again, try to understand. I wrote this little book in memory of that experience.
BODIES
I HAVE A FEW things to say about the face I was given at birth. First of all, I had to accept it. To say I didn’t like it would make it seem more important than it was to me as a child. I didn’t hate it, I ignored it, I avoided it. I didn’t look at mirrors. I think years went by without my ever seeing it. I would avert my eyes in photographs, as if someone else had taken my place.
Around the age of eight, I went to live in Nigeria, West Africa, in a fairly remote region where – apart from my mother and father – there were no Europeans, and where, to the child I was, all of humanity was made up solely of the Ibo and the Yoruba people. In the cabin where we lived (there’s a colonial tinge to the word cabin that might be offensive today, but it accurately describes the lodgings the British government provided for military doctors, a cement slab for