Welcome to Litsy!

I finally finished this short memoir (non-fiction and me are not really friends); it‘s more about the country and the author‘s family than the author. It makes me possibly want to read more by the author and more myths of the Congo. Full review at https://mydearwatsonbooks.wordpress.com.

#passportlitsy #republicofcongo #nonfiction #memoir #ontotransnistria

Thanks for doing a giveaway, @cobwebmoth ! Hm...I would choose a box of goodies!
#chooseyourowngiveaway

And now off to read some more of this book for #passportlitsy...not sure why I‘m having so much trouble finishing it...it‘s barely over 200 pages!

Thanks for doing a giveaway, @MatchlessMarie ! Congrats!

Confession: I once threw a book in the garbage (instead of donating it) because I hated it so much and didn‘t want anybody else to have to read it 😳. I also sold back a signed copy of a book by a former poet laureate LIKE AN IDIOT (and got nothing for it since the book was not being re-used). Both of these were in college.

#1Kgiveaway

Back to reading for #passportlitsy!

Finally getting started on my second book for #passportlitsy. It was hard to find a book for the #RepublicofCongo and not the #DemocraticRepublicofCongo (because yes, there‘s a difference).

#nonfiction #memoir

In this beautiful memoir, the author returns to his Congolese hometown after 28 years away in Europe and the USA. Many things have changed, and the past rises up to meet him in the present day. A mixture of memories and new encounters, this book is a glimpse into a childhood and a culture vastly different from my own. I look forward to learning more in this #readingaroundtheworld adventure!

Up next: Alain Mabanckou, MG Vassanji and Genevieve Von Petzinger. Yay!

Congolese author Mabanckou returns to his hometown after 25 years, where he finds himself "trampling on the kingdom of [his] childhood." Bittersweet & elegant.
#translation #worldlit #diversebooks

The silence was like a wall between us, which neither one wished to break through. We said nothing, which said almost everything. She was transmitting something to me, but I didn't know what. I was careful not to speak. The slightest word would have ruined the moment.

In our family we only hunt squirrels and anteaters, those are the prey given us by our ancestors, because the other animals, unless we are expressly told otherwise in our dreams, are members of our family who've left this world, but are still living in the next. I know these things sound strange to you, you've grown up in the city, but they are simple truths that make us who we are.

An only son was a pariah. He was the cause of his parents' misfortune, having 'locked' his mother's belly behind him. He was also said to have special powers: he could make it rain, he could stop the rain, bring fever on his enemies and prevent their wounds from healing.

As my maternal grandfather Gregoire Moukila was polygamous - 12 wives & more than 50 children - Uncle Albert gradually assembled them all at the rue Louboulu, as his own professional position became more secure. With so many members of the family living in this street, Uncle Albert got the authorities to change the name to rue de Louboulu [in honour of their home village].

"Young people don't sing now, they just make noise. Anyway, I've stopped listening to their music, it gives me migraines."

"Become who you want to become and always remember this: hot water never forgets it used to be cold."

Disappointing -- too rambly for my taste. I skimmed the last chapters. Some good stories and details along the way.