Tram
83 by
Fiston Mwanza Mujila
Translated
by Roland Glasser
Pages: 210
Publisher: Deep Vellum
Released: 2015
Reviewed by Bronwyn Mauldin
If
your only knowledge of Africa comes from the recent film Beasts of No Nation
or a viral video called Koney 2012, if the only “African” literature you’ve
ever read is by Alexander
McCall Smith, then let Fiston
Mwanza Mujila take to you Tram 83 for a
whole new view:
“There are cities which don’t need literature: they are
literature. They file past, chest thrust out, head on their shoulders. They are
proud and full of confidence despite the garbage bags they cart around. The
City-State, an example among so many others – she pulsated with literature.”
Mujila’s
novel is set in an unnamed breakaway City-State in an unnamed African country,
governed by a powerful dissident General. Everyone in the city is dependent on
the region’s underground wealth. “For-profit tourists” arrive from around the
world to exploit both minerals
and cheap labor. Diggers and students alike work the mines. The earth is so
rich residents are rumored to dig up their gardens and living rooms searching
for veins of cobalt,
diamonds, copper or bronze, silver, barium, tin or coal. They dig so wide and
deep the foundations are undermined and buildings sink. Brave and foolish souls
sneak into the mines at night to scrape out a few pounds of valuable stone,
risking death at the hands of the General’s guards.
Tram
83 is the bar that brings them all together, “Inadvertent musicians and elderly
prostitutes and prestidigitators and Pentacostal preachers… disbarred lawyers
and casual laborers and former transsexuals and polka dancers and pirates of
the high seas…” the list goes on for another page, ending with “…baby-chicks
and drug dealers and busgirls and pizza delivery guys and growth hormone
merchants, all sorts of tribes overran Tram 83, in search of good times on the
cheap.” All these people, and Lucien and Requiem.
Lucien
has just returned from the Back-Country where he has been writing a
“stage-tale” about he history of his country. A friend in Paris is trying to
arrange to have it performed. Requiem is Lucien’s childhood friend, an
ambitious player in the City-State’s great game of trying to get rich quick.
It’s
at Tram 83 where Lucien meets Ferdinand Malingeau, director of Joy Train
Publications. Swiss by birth and a resident of the City-State by choice, he
decides to publish Lucien’s stage-tale. But first Lucien must make a few
changes that include reducing the number of characters by half. But how can he
reduce the number of historical figures that have made his country what it is
today?
Tram
83 is the first novel by Mujila, a poet and playwright born in Lubumbashi,
Congo (formerly Zaire), a country in collapse. The language and rhythms of
the book are inspired by the jazz and Congolese rumba he loves. In a recent interview
Mujila said, “The City-State is like a paradise that’s run out of gas. And in
this paradise, time is an illusion.”
Perhaps
the most haunting feature of the City-State is the never-ending parade of
prostitutes soliciting business. “Do you have the time?” and “Would
sir like some company?” and “Take me to your country” and countless
variants repeat over and over in an arrhythmic chorus that breaks into every
conversation, every argument and quiet reverie:
“Foreplay is like democracy, as far as I’m concerned. If
you don’t caress me, I’ll call the Americans.”
The
prostitutes of the City-State are just as dependent on the minerals beneath the
ground as everyone else, eking their living off what people earn from the
mines. When Lucien first arrives, he responds to their solicitations, if only
to dismiss them. After a while they fade into the background for him and for us
as readers. They become part of the music of the City-State, contrapuntal
punctuation marks in Mujila’s jazz-inflected prose.
In
the City-State, no one is immune from the stones in the mines. Even Lucien
finds himself underground one night, pickaxe in one hand, notebook in the other,
hacking away with Requiem and a few of his friends. As always, it is Lucien’s
notebook that gets him into trouble.
Mujila’s
novel is as hilarious as it is heartbreaking, the language as beautiful as the
mine-scarred, train-wrecked landscape is ugly. It is a story of how people
survive the impossible, usually over beers at Tram 83.
Bronwyn Mauldin is the author of the novel Love Songs of the Revolution. She won The Coffin Factory magazine’s 2012 very short story award, and her Mauldin’s work has appeared in the Akashic Books web series, Mondays Are Murder, and at Necessary Fiction, CellStories, The Battered Suitcase, Blithe House Quarterly, Clamor magazine and From ACT-UP to the WTO. She is a researcher with the Los Angeles County Arts Commission, and she is creator of GuerrillaReads, the online video literary magazine.
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