Reviewed by Danielle A. Jackson
A century after the landmark book of essays The Souls of Black Folk appeared in print, Senegalese author Fatou Diome deftly explores the classic DuBoisian concept of the double consciousness in her debut The Belly of the Atlantic. Published in French to great acclaim in 2003 as Le Ventre de l’Atlantique, The Belly of the Atlantic introduces a sundry of black characters whose quest for self-actualization in a post-colonial world form the basis of her novel.
The novel’s main character, Salie, a young academic and writer, was born on the island of Niodor, Senegal, and raised by her doting grandmother. She is a Parisian immigrant who has left her homeland and family behind at the dawn of the twenty-first century to pursue her lofty professional goals. Her sense of displacement is palpable as she relates the nuances of her life as an expatriate. Salie lives a solitary writer’s existence of bill paying and working engagements that leaves little room for luxury. Her family in Niodor, however, holds high expectations of European life, expecting Salie’s circumstances to be characterized by riches and endless opportunity. On her semi-regular visits home, Salie is required by tradition to provide gifts to her immediate and extended family until she has run out of resources. The economic strain of these traditions weighs heavily upon Salie.
Her family, however, is motivated by a very real desire to escape the dire poverty of postcolonial Africa. Almost immediately the reader is introduced to Madické, Salie’s teenaged brother who still lives on the island. A relentless football (soccer) fan, Madické idealizes the famous star of the Italian club, Maldini. In his village, only one person owns a television; since it isn’t necessarily dependable, Madické counts on his older sister to watch the games and memorize, play-by-play, the performance of his idol. Madické calls his sister from the only village telephone in a local shop after every game; Salie calls back and delivers the detailed results of the match. Though the long overseas calls are an economic burden for Salie, she relishes the opportunity to connect with her homeland. To further stimulate Madické’s interests, Salie sends him care packages of magazines, equipment, and football paraphernalia. To Salie’s dismay, however, Madické concludes that the best way for him to achieve success is to pursue a football career and play for an elite European club.
On Niodor, ancient customs and word-of-mouth are the rule of law. Though Madické is convinced that his dreams await in Europe, Salie calls upon the often tragic stories of others from their village to dissuade Madické from single mindedly pursuing this path. The villagers, however, hold European expatriates, especially those who manage to return home with a “fortune,” in the highest esteem. It is thought to be easier to survive in France, considering the wealthy French social democracy with its claims of “Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite,” than to attempt to scrape a living on the impoverished Niodor.
Diome offers a keen analysis of a just-beneath-the-surface self-hatred wrought by years of de jure and de facto French colonial rule that gives French society an appearance of superiority to the people of Niodor. With her anecdotes, she blasts these distortions to pieces. By relating the story of Moussa, a promising footballer like Madické, Diome fearlessly exposes French racism. Moussa is courted by a French club and acquires a working permit for pre-season training with the team. Finding himself at odds with the competitive culture and a victim of racist taunts by his “teammates,” Moussa is homesick and ultimately unable to perform strongly. He is dismissed from the team, and, forced to repay his entry and travel fees, takes a menial job on a shipping dock. Unfortunately, his working permit has expired. Moussa is deported, returning home disgraced; he meets a tragic end.
However harsh the main character’s criticism of French society, she is equally critical of the rigid, patriarchal society of her birth. The scourges of Muslim fundamentalism, polygamy, and rampant misogyny seem to form the cultural backbone of Niodor. Therein lays the conundrum of the double consciousness: Salie, an educated woman of the twenty-first century is not quite at home on the island of her birth. Nor does she belong comfortably to the self-absorbed Western world in which she resides.
This duality is colorfully reflected in the author’s writing style. Using anecdotal, West African griotesque storytelling, Diome introduces characters that illuminate her themes with their lives. Diome positions herself as a literary heir to the Negritude writers of the twentieth century who, heavily inspired by the Harlem Renaissance, used African aesthetics in their works to glorify ancient traditions and criticize the hypocrisy and racism of the West. However, Diome’s work is simultaneously replete with classical references that suggest that Diome herself is a cultural hybrid, owing her stylistic inheritance to her homeland as well as to the West.
The Belly of the Atlantic provides a fresh, modern perspective on the immigration question that is especially relevant given the current wave of rampant emigration from the underdeveloped world, and the alarm it is raising throughout the West. Diome suggests that neither developed nor underdeveloped nations can independently offer solutions on how best to live harmoniously in an increasingly global society. Most likely, a cultural syncretism that respects and fuses the best of both will be necessary to solve our collective problems.