An enthralling and original first novel about exile, diaspora, and the impossibility of Black refuge in America and beyond.
In the morning, I received a phone call and was told to board a flight. The arrangements had been made on my behalf. I packed no clothes, because my clothes had been packed for me. A car arrived to pick me up.
A man returns home to sub-Saharan Africa after twenty-six years in America. When he arrives, he finds that he doesn't recognize the country or anyone in it. Thankfully, someone recognizes him, a man who calls him brother-setting him on a quest to find his real brother, who is dying.
In Hangman, Maya Binyam tells the story of that search, and of the phantoms, guides, tricksters, bureaucrats, debtors, taxi drivers, relatives, riddles, and strangers that will lead to the truth.
It is an uncommonly assured debut: an existential journey; a tragic farce; a slapstick tragedy; and a strange, and strangely honest, story of one man's stubborn quest to find refuge-in this world and in the world that lies beyond it.
Ron Butler sets a lively pace for this allegorical story of a man who is revisiting the unnamed African country of his childhood after a lifetime abroad. As the main character, also unnamed, sets out to find his brother, he encounters obstacles ranging from vengeful sharpshooters to corrupt bureaucrats, along with a series of storytellers. Through the main story and the storytellers, themes emerge
