It is bizarre to think that a distinguished, world class literary pearl like Soyinka spent years clamped in gaol. But then again, so did other African literary giants like Kofi Awoonor (Ghana), Ngugi (Kenya), Jack Mapanje (Malawi) Mongani Wally Serote (SA) among others. At least Soyinka’s incarceration resulted in this extraordinary book, a work so brilliant that it necessarily invites all sorts of superlatives. The full range of Soyinka’s literary talent and nous is explored in this work, with his patent intellectualism augmenting this memoir – a memoir that one can read over and over again with multiple rewards. Soyinka never hides his disgust and disdain for certain tendencies and personalities, and there are many instances here, perhaps including the “damned casuistic functionaire”. The author’s innate imagination and creativity is “gathered, stirred, skimmed and sieved” (to purloin his own expression here) during his travails behind the bars. Soyinka has always been a cerebral, metaphorical poet and legions of pertinent examples abound in this work. Memorably, the hapless soul who emits “porcine sounds” whilst cleansing his throat/expectorating early every day: “regurgitating mortar and slag and dung plaster...do you?
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