Special thanks to NetGalley and Gallery Books and Gallery/Scout Publishing for the ARC of this book in exchange for my own opinion.

This book was interesting, but I'm not quite sure how I felt about it. It was good but the ending leaves it open to speculation and different viewpoints. The author of the book iwrote in a nonlinear structure switching from past to present, but I did like his writing style.. The book is about Seraphin born to Rwandan refugees growing up in Namibia. They are not poor and I liked that about the story because it was realistic. Not all of Africa is living in poverty and I liked to read about that and how they were upper middle class. Seraphin's parents moved out of Rwanda in 1984 to Namibia, when chaos broke out in Rwanda.

But Seraphin s bored with his parents , who want him to be a lawyer, and I can't say I always liked his character. He thought he was so great but underneath he was insecure and snarky to others. But he went to University in Cape Town, where he was the life of the party making dance mix tapes and also, there was a lot of sex in this book. Maybe a little too much, and I'm not a prude. I wasn't too crazy about his character part of the way in. He's very sarcastic and has to be top dog in school.

However, I did like the characters and all the topics on migrants, race, refugees, and identity. All in all 4 stars! Well written.

I feel mixed about this book. I like the character of Seraphin and at times found the story compelling and then there were times that the jumping around in timeline just interrupted the story flow for me. The prose is very well done and makes for an enjoyable read, I just prefer a more linear approach to story telling. So my recommendation depends upon how you like your stories.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advance copy in exchange for an honest opinion.

There was a lot of promise both outside this book and within, but it took me months to read it.

I enjoy coming of age stories. I was really excited at the prospect of reading about Rwandan refugees living in Namibia going to school in South Africa, as written by someone from the area.

There is a lot of gorgeous prose here, but unfortunately the structure kept throwing me out, with it's unrelenting flea-hopping from past to present. Also, the very realism with which Seraphin, the hero, is presented made me dislike him much of the time. I kept wanting to read past his self-absorption to some of the side characters whose moments on the page were all too brief.

But again, a lot of beautiful prose, and some great word-pictures of life in a place I have not read much about.

3.5 stars

Interesting read. It has a lot of moving parts, including a young man's coming of age and a lot of perceptive hard truths about race, and about Africa, and about what it means to be a refugee.

Seraphin and his family escape Rwanda and wind up in Namibia. Like many others, the trajectory of their lives is forever changed, and not really for the better. His parents push their children hard, pretty obviously to make up for the dreams and hopes they were forced to abandon.

Seraphin is a complex character -- often very funny but not always likable. The author has a definite talent for bringing back the raucous, intense, carefree atmosphere of college life. Seraphin is undecided about what he wants and that isn't resolved by the end of the story. He can't escape race as a factor in his friendships, his relationships and his future career. He is justifiably bitter in his honest comments about being black and being a refugee.

This is a layered, intelligent read which is sometimes a bit disjointed as it jumps from past to present, from Namibia to Capetown, but worthwhile. Thanks to the publisher and to Net Galley for providing me with an ARC in exchange for my honest review.

I had to DNF this at 20%. I can see others would enjoy this but it was just not for me. The style was too literary and I did not feel connected with or care for any characters, unfortunately.

This debut novel from author Rémy Ngamije is the best book I have read this year. I wanted to highlight every sentence, savor each turn of phrase, and recreate every late ’90s playlist for my own use. In this coming-of-age story, protagonist Séraphin is a Rwandan refugee living in Namibia and studying at a South African university. But what stands out to me most is Ngamije’s voice, which is actually laugh-out-loud funny. I cannot recommend this one enough.

I included THE ETERNAL AUDIENCE OF ONE in my summer preview for Book and Film Globe: https://bookandfilmglobe.com/fiction/eight-books-to-take-you-into-fall/

Thanks to NetGalley and Gallery/Scout Press for the ARC.

The Eternal Audience of One is an interesting story of a Rwandan refugee. I was left confused sometimes with the changes back and forth in time. The writing is beautiful and poetic. There were times when I just wanted to stop and reflect on some of the passages.
Thank you to NetGalley and Gallery Books for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Wanted to really love this book. I love coming of age stories and I was interested in the story of a Rwandan refugees living in Namibia going to school in South Africa. Ultimately even though there are beautiful writing moments, this book wasn’t it for me. I got lost in the non linear timeline and it was very character driven. Unfortunately the characters I cared about the most were in the book the least. I can see this being a beautiful book, but not my personal taste.

Namibian author Remy Ngamigi is an author to watch. His debut follows the life of Rwandan immigrant, Seraphin, as he completes his final year of law school in Capetown, South Africa. He goes through many short relationships with women as he struggles with coming to terms with the continued racism he sees in South Africa. Its not just a story of one young man, it’s a story of his well-educated parents who fled the violence of Rwanda for Namibia where they find themselves losing out of job opportunities because they are immigrants. Seraphin’s comments throughout the book show how Ngamigi is able to construct a story that celebrates the successes and continued challenges of immigrants.

After several attempts, I've been unable to summon the words that would capture and summarize the spirit of The Eternal Audience of One. So I offer this puny substitute, with apologies:

It's a beautifully literary story, without a hint of stuffiness or pretension. It's hilarious. Its predominant worldview, quite naturally, is that of a young, male, black African immigrant -- but I was frequently astonished at how many other viewpoints, of race and gender and nationality and immigration status, were represented.

Yes, it's messy -- but isn't that true of Life itself?

Thanks to NetGalley and Gallery Books for an advance readers copy.

I loved the reflections on race in South Africa from an immigrant perspective. I also enjoyed the funny one-liners. However, this jumped back and forth in time a lot without being clear when that time change was happening. Maybe that was part of the point, but it left me confused at times.

Thank you to NetGalley for an eARC in exchange for my honest review.

This book was an interesting read. I thought the writing was beautiful & well thought out. The story is mainly from Seraphin's point of view with some coming from hi family & friends. Things like, "His heart was a library of longings, his mind a hive of buzzing trivia," were pure poetry. I thought the Rwansan saying "utazi ayinnya ho" (Because when you do not know the good grass from the bad you will shit on both just the same) followed by the saying "nyakstsi ya Fallon utazi nyakatsi" (Time, in its infiniteness, is the most powerful force in the universe. It cannot be escaped. But it is also the most uncreative. It spits out the same shit, but on different days.) was profound. The subject of race was interesting as it's easy to forget that racism is bad in every country, not just the US. When Godwin (Seraphin's friend) says, "Bigfoot is real, but racism, not so much," followed by Adewale (another friend) saying, "If you don't see it, or if it doesn't happen to you, then it didn't happen," it made me want to applaud for pointing this out. I did find it hard to keep up with the changing of point of view at the beginning, but after the first couple of times, I knew what to look for. I think this book is worth your time & you won't be disappointed.

Thank you to the publisher & NetGalley for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review

What do you get from a wisecracking young African novelist when you turn him loose with a contract? A novel of the prices exacted by immigration on the emigrated persons, be that emigration voluntary or enforced, cannot help but run into the problem of "why am I here again?" for its fat, complacent first-world-native readers. The usual answer is, "where else would you like to be?" Author Ngamjie writes sentences like this:
The only certainty is this: everything that is not the end must be the start of something else.

Séra says that his mother said it first; I believe him. I believe whatever Author Ngamije says, actually. I have already said nice things about Author Ngamjie's writing when I discussed The Neighbourhood for last year's Caine Prize reviews. He's deployed a lot more of his snappy humor here (a bed so narrow it should have a singles-site profile, East African parents outdoing the Spanish Inquisition in the barbarity of their interrogation, "FOMO, the acronym of doom," a vile w-bomb at 47% being self-described as a "salacious nictation"...though that didn't prevent him from using it three more times), having so much more room to make the case for laughs. Laughs you'll get, for absolute sure and certain. When Therése and Séra meet at a less-than-opportune moment, for example. If you fail to fall about screaming with laughter at how Author Ngamjie structures that scene, then you are deficient.

And there is a great deal of uncertainty in the happiness of the parents in this story. There are no swift and sure answers to the eternal eyeroll of the offspring. A stern reminder, however, that your parents didn't become parents without having some kinda past together is fully served in several chapters. The set-up for them being together, a party attended in Paris, is...incomplete at first telling. It seems there was a lot more to being young in that day and time...well. Usually there was some, um, carnal dimension to their partnering up for parenthood:
His torso occupied every inch of his shirt, and his maroon bell-bottom jeans accentuated a prim pair of buttocks and strong thighs.

He was dressed to pull, for sure! And Therése was very much there to be pulled...well, that is half the story, and the other half was told, so you'll find it when you get to it. But the parenting years came next. A thankless task, that, and made more difficult by the implosion of their country. Several flashbacks to that time are all from Séra's child-vision. It's very effective, and still manages to evoke from the adult reader the fear and the determination of the parents to protect their kids. And then they spent the entire rest of their lives ensuring you'd have it better than they do, Séra. So what does he do with his uni life in Cape Town? What all of us did! Party! Make a group of like-minded friends, find something to rag on the world about...the usual twentysomething life. Author Ngamije says smart, funny things in a smartass way, just like Séraphin himself. He's got a helluva mouth on him, does Séra, and he's not afraid to use it.
...{I}f nobody ever makes it to the start of a story, and if everyone is in the same boat just bailing and steering as best they can, then I guess the whole point of life is to make some sort of a start and then work towards some kind of ending, whenever and wherever it might be. Part plagiarism will permit to agree with Shakespeare: "All the world's a staage..." upon which we perform for the eternal audience of one. ... I guess, then, that the point of life is to dive in, hold on, and hope that a flop...is worth the laugh at the very end.

–and–

"She actually likes black people," Séraphin said. "And it isn't because she's traveled a lot. Slavers traveled too and look where that got us."

–and–

"I have a better chance of being Pablo Escobar than being Pablo Neruda.

"You and drug dealers." {She} laughed. "Not a fan of poetry, then?"

"I approach poetry like other people's dogs. With great caution."

The entire group of friends stay hooked in to their affection for each other, such as it is, and they overlook the usual tensions in any group setting...the odd man out, the tolerated-but-unloved, the group boss with the plans everyone goes along with because it's easier than fighing and better than anyone else's ideas anyway. The flirting, the hookups...the breakups and dumpings...it's all there, exactly where it should be, told in texts instead of long calls and short meetings.

There is, of course, the requisite older woman in Séraphin's résumé, and she speaks a truth to him: "There is a point when actions become promises," that I truly wish I knew how to embroider so I could make a pillow-cover out of. I am also moved by immigrant Séra meditating on forgiveness being meaningless without remembering the thing being forgiven. It is a truth I learned much later in my life than he was forced to, but a severely underrated one in the general conversation we as a society should be having with more seriousness than we seem to be doing.

The lighthearted moments, let me hasten to say now, are quite prevalent in the book. More time laughing is spent than Other Things. Don't mistake this for some gloomy, first-novel-MFA-program navel-gazing! You'll know for sure that you're in good, capable hands, that this is a cocktail party you can't quite imagine how you got invited to and not Thanksgiving with your in-laws.

That is also, of course, apparent in some less joy-giving ways. The function of Séraphin's Great Council of Séraphins is clearly to make you aware that you've shifted to the inner workings of the lad's head; the problem is, for this seasoned reader, it was overused. Two or three times would've been effective...many more and it becomes Ben Stiller's 2013 remake of Danny Kaye's 1947 comedic classic The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. As much fun as recalling the original was for the first twenty minutes, seeing the shots recreated...well...it got old.

The fragmented construction of the story will put some readers off. The flashbacks aren't slowing the story down, I will protest, they are givning it traction! But many will disagree with me, I fear. Structuring a story in an anti-chronological way does indeed allow us to feel, instead of see, the action as the characters do. It does also require of us that we pay attention to what's underlying the surface story of an immigrant leaving home to leave home to learn how to return home to make a home. It's really just that simple...Thomas Wolfe did it, y'all all lapped it up. Ride the waves, don't shove your feet into them. (Have I ever mentioned that my Young Gentleman Caller is a surfer?)

There is a time in a character's arc that the wise mentor offers a personal story that illuminates a Greater Truth that Our Hero needs to hear. That time came, it lingered a bit too long for comfort, and then it was over. That was, actually, a good thing, because the purpose of it was a deeper one than was expected. The way it happens, the moment it comes, are a little bit deceptive, so kudos to Author Ngamije for that misdirection. I like not knowing everything!

But the classic misdirection, well. Remember how you found out your parent was a person before you were born? Remember the moment you learned what they least wanted you to know but you needed to hear? That moment is a beaut in this book, one of those "...I didn't know you had it in you..." times that come to all adult children. I loved it, and if you're the reader I hope you are for reading my reviews, you'll carry on to the very end for the reward you're offered.
"All arguments can be fixed. Circumstances, not so much."

Formerly tall father stood next to tall son.

"You have to decide whether you want to be right or whether you want to be happy. It is a simple choice."

It may be simple...it is simple...but it is never easy.

This is a coming-of-age novel that focuses on Seraphin, the eldest son of Rwandan immigrants/refugees currently living in Namibia. He is reluctantly studying law at his parent’s request but is restless and has a wanderlust to travel. He wants to escape the familial obligations/expectations and oppressive social status of a “refugee” to freely pursue his hedonistic desires. For the majority of the novel, Seraphin is essentially restless and spends time hanging with his friends, pursuing girls/women, and building playlists.

His disposition clashes against his parent’s desires to keep the family close/together after fleeing the Rwandan Civil war, government collapse, and the genocide that followed. Although physically unharmed, they carry repressed angst, irreparable loss, and emotional scars. Unlike many, they were fortunate because they were educated, had some money and means, and landed gainful employment in Namibia. Nonetheless, the new life is not without struggles and Namibia is not “home.” They struggle to preserve Rwandan traditions which are viewed as dated and rigid compared to the social norms and practices their children are exposed to on a daily basis. The children (who at the onset of the novel are now teens and young adults) have adapted and assimilated much faster than their parents - and this causes stress within the household.

The more interesting aspects of the novel for me were the bits that covered the challenges of being a displaced person - a refugee. Via the experiences of the characters, the reader witnesses how the local policies, social attitudes, and laws influence and propagate mistreatment, injustice, and exploitation. However, I loved the display of fortitude and determination to start anew when all was lost. What I didn’t care for were the endless passages of Seraphin’s adventures with his friends and girlfriends/women -- while the witty banter was clever and insightful, I found them to be a bit repetitive and after a while predictable to me. I found the stories and segments that featured Seraphin’s parents more interesting.

I received an advanced reader’s copy from NetGalley and the publisher.

Beautifully written coming of age story that also touches on race, class, the life of an immigrant/refugee and identity. Seraphin is bored. He doesn't like life in the small town where his family has settled in Namibia after fleeing Rwanda. And he doesn't really want to be study law at Remms University in Cape Town. The story is told in a nonlinear style, but we follow Seraphin in present day, during undergraduate days, his parents in France at the beginning of their relationship, and the months immediately following the family's exodus from Rwanda.

I really enjoyed this novel. "Séraphin writes, “ ‘All the world’s a stage . . .’ upon which we perform for the eternal audience of one. Only the person who makes it to the end knows what everything was all about." And many of Seraphin's actions and decisions appear to be based on his own audience of one(which he sometimes imagines as several different Seraphins following him around).

""Nobody ever makes it to the start of a story, not even the people in it. The most one can do is make some sort of start and then work toward some kind of ending."

One might as well start with Séraphin: playlist-maker, nerd-jock hybrid, self-appointed merchant of cool, Rwandan, stifled and living in Windhoek, Namibia. Soon he will leave the confines of his family life for the cosmopolitan city of Cape Town, in South Africa, where loyal friends, hormone-saturated parties, adventurous conquests, and race controversies await. More than that, his long-awaited final year in law school promises to deliver a crucial puzzle piece of the Great Plan immigrant: a degree from a prestigious university.

But a year is more than the sum of its parts, and en route to the future, the present must be lived through and even the past must be survived.

From one of Africa’s emerging literary voices comes a lyrical and piquant tale of family, migration, friendship, war, identity, and race following the intersecting lives of Séraphin and a host of eclectic characters from pre- and post-1994 Rwanda, colonial and post-independence Windhoek, Paris and Brussels in the 70s, Nairobi public schools, and the racially charged streets of Cape Town."

Thanks to NetGalley for the free ARC in exchange for my honest review.

A rewarding book set amid the tangle of race and gender and class and nationality in Africa, this story tells of the coming of age of a Rwandan boy whose family fled the genocide and eventually settled in Namibia. Our hero is an overachiever pushed forward by family and community (often against his will) to regain the upper middle class status lost in the flight from Rwanda. As a black refugee, he sits at the lowest rung of status in his school and, eventually, college in South Africa.

The writing is outstanding - inventive, unexpected, and often very funny. The characters are complicated and full-bodied; the author largely avoids using stereotypes of particular race or class. The story is non-linear but never confusing, and the viewpoint occasionally shifts to other characters as we hear their stories.

Well worth reading.

Great writing. Good character building. Odd pacing. I enjoyed the book, but the plot felt like it meandered at times. I think the pacing was just a bit off.

I just finished reading this book and need to write my review now, while I am still fired up and emotional. I am a white American female living in the outskirts of Boston. I am a wife to my husband for the last 21 years, am a mom to two teens, and have a dog and a cat. I tell you this to paint a picture of my background because it may surprise you. Why would it surprise you? Because my Irish temper flares and I become so upset when I read about
prejudices, discrimination, and racism, though I personally have not ever had to experience any of them firsthand. I am incredibly lucky to not have had to deal with the actions of people like Seraphin and his family and friends did. It infuriates me. I believe that race, skin color, nor heritage should dictate anyone’s future, no one should have to fight for an education, a career, or a place to call home based on any of these things. I know that this book is described as funny, and though I do know why it is depicted that way, because the dry intellectual wit is evident, I am just too caught up in the unfair injustices right now so that overpowers all else for me.

I do appreciate and love the strong prevalence of heritage, tradition, culture, friendships, and FAMILY. Family is such a key and important theme throughout this book. Despite the changes surrounding each of them, the family bonds remain strong.

It is a coming of age novel, but at a very mature level, not the usual teen or young adult coming of age novels I am used to. The writing is deep, introspective. The language and tone are sophisticated. The characters embrace changes in virginity, status, and identity. Slurs, sarcasm, wit, and humor are tools the characters flirt with as they maneuver through each stage of their lives, as they grow older and mature.

This was not an easy read, meaning it is not one that you fly through the pages skimming over the words quickly; rather it is one that you must proceed at a slower pace, digest each word and ponder over it before moving on. It is a very different type of book, but one that I am certain will draw attention and praise.

This coming-of-age tale is intellectually and wittily written in prose that comes laughing off the page. This beautifully written, engaging tale, causes the reader to find humor even in and especially in the blunders of the hero as he grows into himself. The novel lets us see the world of the refugee, the immigrant, well-educated and overly intelligent and the experiences he faces in a strange country he must adopt as his own to survive. This is a novel of now.

This book is kind of my everything. It’s my type of summer read: smart, deep, layered, funny, different, interesting, beautiful, and full of important themes that must be read, acknowledged, and understood. It’s funny, in the US we watch the news, read a few books, watch a few documentaries and think that we have a good idea about life in different African countries, but we know next to nothing, apart from our prejudices. In 2018 I made it a point to read books from African writers from every country on the continent, and it has been such a beneficial, and ongoing journey. I would recommend this book to everyone - it’s lyrical and beautiful, relatable, and so funny at times that you laugh out loud (but keep your tissue box handy too because you will cry).

Séraphin is in his last year of law school at Remms, a prestigious university in Cape Town. He didn’t really want to study law, and has a penchant for the written word rather than law itself, but did it because it was one of his parents wishes. His family live in Windhoek, Namibia, refugees from Rwanda where they fled for their lives in 1994. He has a tight group of friends, who call themselves the High Lords of Empireland, and they spend a lot of time going out, drinking, dancing, and having fun, just like any students do. Séraphin isn’t ready to graduate, and definitely not ready to move back to Windhoek, a place he finds boring and predictable. But he also doesn’t really know what he wants to do either, not sure whether Cape Town is where he wants to set his roots.

The narrative doesn't follow a straight line, and I am someone who really enjoys that type of sequence. I loved how we follow Séraphin’s thought process and life, but how we also jump backwards and forwards, discovering how his parents met and fell in love in Paris, or how Séraphin met his first love; learning how his family left a very comfortable life in Rwanda with nothing, and learned to live as “foreigners” in Namibia, never to be treated as citizens despite their hard work and ability to integrate into their new lives seamlessly, despite the trauma and horror left behind and in their hearts.

Rémy Ngamije weaves the everyday microaggressions and full-on aggressions into the story: the remnants of Apartheid still deeply embedded in South African culture, but also the racial and class tensions in Namibia, and in other countries such as Uganda and Kenya. Séraphin’s friends come from different countries in Africa and are brought together for different reasons. Some of the writing is so perfectly balanced, there are times when you laugh and then cry within the same sentence. Some of it is so subtle that it only dawns on you pages later what the author’s intentions are, and some of it is so in your face that you can’t help laughing and relating to it. Séraphin is young, a little self-centered, smart, hilarious, and searching for something more, like most of us (at least I was) at his age. This is a coming of age novel, but also a story of migration, of growing up not knowing where home is, of friendship, of love, happiness, race, identity, and learning. And make sure you read the epilogue properly, because if you blink you will miss the ending that you are looking for.

Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the advance copy in exchange for an honest review.