Woman of The Ashes is a beautifully written novel. The story flowed well and it kept me reading.; really captivating. Mozambique is such a unique setting for the novel that it will standout for me for years. Such a unique story. The two points of view was done perfectly. The research the author did really showed and is appreciated.

Good one. Liked it. Thanks to the publisher for the ARC. Hope to read the rest in the trilogy too. Thanks.

The first volume in a planned trilogy, Woman of the Ashes takes place in Mozambique in 1894. A fifteen year old girl becomes central in a clash of cultures between the indigenous population and the Portuguese colonisers. Sergeant Germano de Melo is posted to the village of Nkokolani to protect Portugal’s interests from falling under the control of local emperor Ngungunyane, nicknamed the Lion of Gaza, the last emperor to rule the southern half of Mozambique. Unfamiliar with his surroundings and the local culture and language, Germano recruits Imani as interpreter and intermediary. Imani is torn between her native traditions and cultural identity and her sympathies for the Portuguese. Her life is further fractured by the fact that one of her brothers sides with the colonisers whilst the other sides with Ngungunyane. Alternating between the voices of Imani herself and letters written by Germano, this dual-narrative structure gives the reader a multi-layered picture of the complexities of life in the region at this tumultuous period. There’s allegory and folklore aplenty here, with a touch of magic realism, but it’s all integrated quite successfully with the more realistic elements. What doesn’t work so well is that the characters feel one-dimensional, even stereotypical, and the attraction between Germano and Imani all too predictable and clichéd. Based on historical fact, the novel tells a reasonably compelling story, and I remained engaged, but I wasn’t convinced by either of the main characters. Nevertheless an interesting read, opening up a little known episode in African and Portuguese history.

I really wanted to love this novel but it fell flat for me. It seemed like something got lost in translation. This novel is about the war torn state of Gaza in 1894. The main characters are Sergeant Melo (who is Portuguese) and his African translator Imani. One of the main problems for me was that Melo's and Imani's "voices" are exactly the same. The writing style which reminded me of myths got tedious. There are beautifully some written passages but overall I felt that I didn't really understand what was going on.

This is an extraordinary work .. we follow the story through correspondence and through the eyes of a local 15 year old girl in 19th century Mozambique as she navigates worlds between a disaffected, extraordinary Portuguese soldier, and her deeply embedded family of 'kaffirs' to the local soldiers, enemy rebels and local shop keepers, bar tenders... her mother is a canny woman, knowing the hearts of men, dreaming and talking to the dead: in fact referring to the dead is central. A European woman who's come here to die impinges on their lives and bridges between family and girl and Portuguese. A book moving between spiritual realms of different cultures, communications vaguely understood .. but some break through, and our 15 year old is one who died as catastrophic military and rebellion engulfs them all. Amazing book, to be relished.

"Written words are mighty spells, capable of potent magic."
Wow: I just read my first novel from Mozambique, and the story sucked me in, entranced me, messed with my head, made me question what I know about literature, hit me over the head with an unexpected finale and spat me out. Now I'm dizzy and I think I need a witch doctor.

Until 1975 (!), Mozambique was a Portuguese colony, and this book's author, Mia Couto (b. 1955), is the son of Portuguese settlers. When his parents went back to Portugal, he and his siblings decided to stay in their native country, and Couto is now one of the most important writers in Mozambique. This background info relevant for the story he is telling in this historical novel: In 1894, Portuguese Sergeant Germano de Melo is court-martialed after an attempted military revolt and, as his punishment, is posted to the village of Nkokolani to oversee the Portuguese conquest of territory claimed by Ngungunyane, the last of the leaders of the Gaza Empire (Gaza, 1824-1895, was the second-largest empire led by an African; the Republican revolt against the Portuguese King also really happened).

In the village, he meets 15-year-old Imani whom he hires as an interpreter. She belongs to a tribe that sided with the Portuguese, but her own family is torn between the Crown and the African Emperor. Between Germano and Imani, a curious dynamic unfolds, and by telling the story about the destiny of this contested village and its people, Couto meditates on Mozambique, Portugal, colonialism, racism, and literature.

The story is told in alternating voices by Imani and Germano and draws its poetic strength from this juxtaposition: Imani talks about the history, customs and beliefs of her people, telling many coloful folkloric tales and employing lots of magical realism to bring her (very real) points across, while Germano desperately tries to cling to so-called reason and reality, until he cannot uphold appearances anymore: The truth his nation defends is no truth at all. Germano starts to lose his mind, and the Emperor of Gaza is progressing.

This book is full of piercing metaphors and moving images, and I especially liked the role that words, language and literature itself play in the book. E.g., while Germano admires Imani's beautiful spoken Portuguese, he can hardly tolerate to watch her write, because of the power she acquires by doing this. Imani knows about that power, and she uses it by writing her story:

"This is the story of the rivers. The greedy may steal their water until they run dry. But they won't steal their history. (...) In the dust and ashes, I write the names of the dead. So that they may be born again from the footprints we leave."

If you - like me - think that this is some powerful writing, read that book, it is full of passages like this one (I can't help myself, I have to add in one more quote: "My father was a tuner of the infinite marimba that is the world" - wow, Couto, just wow). Highly recommended.