The Tuner of Silences (Biblioasis International Translation Series, 9) Paperback – February 26, 2013

"I was eleven years old when I saw a woman for the first time, and I was seized by such sudden surprise that I burst into tears. I lived in a wasteland inhabited only by five men. My father had given the place a name. It was called, quite simply, Jezoosalem. It was the land where Jesus would uncrucify himself. And that was the end of the matter, full stop. My old man, Silvestre Vitalício, explained to us that the world had come to an end and we were the only survivors."A striking opening, without question, enough to make me follow up my Kindle sample by downloading the whole thing. But after that, I'm afraid, I quickly lost my bearings. It soon becomes apparent that the outside world has not come to an end, and that Silvestre has fled to this deserted African game reserve with his two sons, brother in law, and factotum for reasons of his own (adopting new names in the process). But the effect is nonetheless to plunge this reader into a post-apocalyptic genre which has always given me difficulty. Silvestre is a tyrant, irascible, fearful, and increasingly mad. He appreciates Mwanito, his younger son and the narrator of the novel, because of his power to bring him the consolation of silence. "I was weaving together the delicate threads out of which quiescence is made. I was the tuner of silences."At times like this, it is beautiful, poetic language. But it is that of a much older Mwanito, who adds layers that the then-illiterate child could not have had words for. Almost all through the book, there is an air of fantasy, so that you never quite know what is a metaphor, what real, what a dream, and what merely the product of Silvestre's encroaching madness. It is a great relief halfway through the book when a Portuguese woman appears, for she is someone who at least has recognizable roots in the real world. I found the third quarter of the book by far the most absorbing, as this woman's presence begins to act on the group of men. In the final quarter, the reasons for Silvestre's flight will become clear, and also how the woman is connected into their story. But from a beginning which contained almost nothing that could unambiguously be labeled as fact, suddenly at the end the back-story comes pouring out with a wealth of detail that is almost too much. The poetic silences of the opening, unfortunately, are a thing of the past.Mia Couto is a distinguished writer from Mozambique. Though of European descent, he found an important position with the revolutionary government after the war of independence, and something of the legacy of those wars can be seen in the background of this novel, for those who know where to look. But without that knowledge, it does not come over as a book that says much about a country, a time, or a people. So ordinary readers like me can only judge it as a literary creation of undoubted originality and feeling -- just one that does not happen to be to my taste. [3 stars for my enjoyment, moved up to reflect the quality most probably waiting there for the right reader.]

When I interviewed Kim Thúy (author of Ru and Mãn), she referenced Mia Couto's "The Tuner of Silences" in her interview ("it feels like their organ to dream had been amputated from them.").  I immediately ordered the book.  The only reason why is because Thúy wrote so beautifully and saw the beauty in words.  I wanted to know what inspired her phenomenal works.  This is a story of loss and pain, wandering through emptiness due to regrets and trying to live, yet not live at all because you are scared to face your truths.  You will never forget Couto's work.  Set in an abandoned animal reserve in Africa, Mwanito lives with his father, brother and former soldier.  His uncle sometimes visits, bringing them supplies.  Mwanito grows up believing that they are the only people left in this world.  He is eleven years old before he sees a woman for the first time.What he doesn't know is that he is being forced to live in his father's world...a place to forget and to be forgotten.  Why they are there is the question.  Are they in prison for something his father did? Or are they in a prison of his father's own design?  Beautifully written.  When we are introduced to the woman, Couto's writing changes into something much more passionate that will make you sigh at the beauty of his words.

Liked the story,Liked the way the atmosphere is builtAs I said, not so easy to read, but promote a lot of thoughts

"I was eleven years old when I saw a woman for the first time, and I was seized by such sudden surprise that I burst into tears." This opening line pulled me immediately into Mia Couto's novel, THE TUNER OF SILENCES; it raised questions for me from the beginning and these didn't let me go til the end. Mwanito, the narrator, reflecting back on the early years of his life, recounts his experiences while living in the company of three men and his slightly older brother in a remote campsite in a semi-desert. Couto, an award-winning Mozambican author, has written a novel that is part coming of age story, part family drama and part a kind of love story. Mwanito's mature voice recaptures convincingly the innocence of his childhood, his gradual awakening to a life that may be different from the one prescribed by his father, whose trauma and loss keep haunting him. In the tradition of African story telling, Couto's narration moves with ease from realistic depiction of people and scenarios to fantasy, symbolism, mythology and the rich imagination of dreams. Set against the early years of post-Portuguese colonial rule in Mozambique, Couto touches on questions of race and identity, of long held beliefs and traditions, and the uncertainties in the newly independent country.After the sudden death of his wife, Mwanito's distraught father takes his sons and flees the city for an abandoned game reserve far away. For him life as he knew it has ended and, he explains to his sons, "Over There", beyond their camp, the world has seized to exist; it is a total wasteland. He declares the camp an "independent" land, names it "Jezoosalem". Yes, the religious connotation is intended. Following the "renaming ceremony" of place and people, he, now Silvestre, rules "his land" dictatorially, his strict discipline not to be questions. The children live in fear of their father. No books are allowed or anything to do with writing; Mwanito is forbidden to learn: he is to be the Tuner of Silences. "I was born to keep quiet. My only vocation is silence..." he recalls his early experiences. Only he can calm the father's anxieties. The family is accompanied by a raggedly looking ex-soldier who acts as a servant, security guard, hunter for essential meat supplies and, sometimes, friend to Ntunzi, Mwanito's brother. Lastly, there is "Uncle Aproximado", who lives at the edge of the game reserve, far away from the camp. He turns up from time to time to bring other essential supplies from "Over There". His arrival is welcomed by the boys, who also wonder whether he steals, whether the father has escaped a crime, whether there is really a "wasteland" beyond the perimeter they are allowed to explore...Mwanito, too young to remember his mother or anything from "Over There", is a docile and dedicated follower of his father's instructions. However, influenced by his older brother's stories about their mother, Mwanito feels her presence in his vivid dreams, yet cannot define her features. Ntunzi, old enough to have been to school, pressures his younger brother to go against the father's rule and learn to read, one letter at a time. "I already knew how to travel across written letters, as if each one were an endless highway. But I still needed to learn how to dream and to remember. I wanted that boat that took Ntunzi into the arms of our dead mother..."Eventually, after years in isolation, Marta, the woman from the novel's opening sentence appears, inadvertently disturbing the life of each of the camp's inhabitants and challenging the father's enforced order. Marta's presence is not quite as coincidental as it may seem at first, although some readers might find her involvement with the family and their secrets a bit too convenient. Still, she represents an important new conduit to the world outside, essential for the boys in coming to terms with their understanding of identity and other needs.Mia Couto's writing is engaging, his sense of place evident and with it the description of the abandoned game reserve in the semi-desert environment evocative. I found the story's narrator Mwanito totally believable and in his childhood observations, his dreams, desires and wonderment very endearing. While his father may need him as the Tuner of Silences, the boy is a very astute observer of his surroundings. In his musings his language is gentle, poetic and rich in imagery. Silvestre, the father, by contrast, comes across as a tragic figure. In his inability to communicate, he isolates himself increasingly from his children. Unable to recover from his personal trauma, his clinging to a happier past with pseudo-religious rituals alienates his children and, rather than protecting them from the "wasteland Over There", pushes them towards planning their escape if there is a chance. Given the place and the time frame the novel is set, I sense that Couto while personalizing his story very effectively, his novel also explores the deeper societal traumas and challenges that people in Mozambique have faced in their recent history. For me, this has been a thought provoking read. [Friederike Knabe]

"I was eleven years old when I saw a woman for the first time, and I was seized by such sudden surprise that I burst into tears." This opening line pulled me immediately into Mia Couto's novel, THE TUNER OF SILENCES; it raised questions for me from the beginning and these didn't let me go til the end. Mwanito, the narrator, reflecting back on the early years of his life, recounts his experiences while living in the company of three men and his slightly older brother in a remote campsite in a semi-desert. Couto, an award-winning Mozambican author, has written a novel that is part coming of age story, part family drama and part a kind of love story. Mwanito's mature voice recaptures convincingly the innocence of his childhood, his gradual awakening to a life that may be different from the one prescribed by his father, whose trauma and loss keep haunting him. In the tradition of African story telling, Couto's narration moves with ease from realistic depiction of people and scenarios to fantasy, symbolism, mythology and the rich imagination of dreams. Set against the early years of post-Portuguese colonial rule in Mozambique, Couto touches on questions of race and identity, of long held beliefs and traditions, and the uncertainties in the newly independent country.After the sudden death of his wife, Mwanito's distraught father takes his sons and flees the city for an abandoned game reserve far away. For him life as he knew it has ended and, he explains to his sons, "Over There", beyond their camp, the world has seized to exist; it is a total wasteland. He declares the camp an "independent" land, names it "Jezoosalem". Yes, the religious connotation is intended. Following the "renaming ceremony" of place and people, he, now Silvestre, rules "his land" dictatorially, his strict discipline not to be questions. The children live in fear of their father. No books are allowed or anything to do with writing; Mwanito is forbidden to learn: he is to be the Tuner of Silences. "I was born to keep quiet. My only vocation is silence..." he recalls his early experiences. Only he can calm the father's anxieties. The family is accompanied by a raggedly looking ex-soldier who acts as a servant, security guard, hunter for essential meat supplies and, sometimes, friend to Ntunzi, Mwanito's brother. Lastly, there is "Uncle Aproximado", who lives at the edge of the game reserve, far away from the camp. He turns up from time to time to bring other essential supplies from "Over There". His arrival is welcomed by the boys, who also wonder whether he steals, whether the father has escaped a crime, whether there is really a "wasteland" beyond the perimeter they are allowed to explore...Mwanito, too young to remember his mother or anything from "Over There", is a docile and dedicated follower of his father's instructions. However, influenced by his older brother's stories about their mother, Mwanito feels her presence in his vivid dreams, yet cannot define her features. Ntunzi, old enough to have been to school, pressures his younger brother to go against the father's rule and learn to read, one letter at a time. "I already knew how to travel across written letters, as if each one were an endless highway. But I still needed to learn how to dream and to remember. I wanted that boat that took Ntunzi into the arms of our dead mother..."Eventually, after years in isolation, Marta, the woman from the novel's opening sentence appears, inadvertently disturbing the life of each of the camp's inhabitants and challenging the father's enforced order. Marta's presence is not quite as coincidental as it may seem at first, although some readers might find her involvement with the family and their secrets a bit too convenient. Still, she represents an important new conduit to the world outside, essential for the boys in coming to terms with their understanding of identity and other needs.Mia Couto's writing is engaging, his sense of place evident and with it the description of the abandoned game reserve in the semi-desert environment evocative. I found the story's narrator Mwanito totally believable and in his childhood observations, his dreams, desires and wonderment very endearing. While his father may need him as the Tuner of Silences, the boy is a very astute observer of his surroundings. In his musings his language is gentle, poetic and rich in imagery. Silvestre, the father, by contrast, comes across as a tragic figure. In his inability to communicate, he isolates himself increasingly from his children. Unable to recover from his personal trauma, his clinging to a happier past with pseudo-religious rituals alienates his children and, rather than protecting them from the "wasteland Over There", pushes them towards planning their escape if there is a chance. Given the place and the time frame the novel is set, I sense that Couto while personalizing his story very effectively, his novel also explores the deeper societal traumas and challenges that people in Mozambique have faced in their recent history. For me, this has been a thought provoking read. [Friederike Knabe]

Its a beautiful story about the attempt of trying to forget the past and the many issues it carries, with poetry and a critical sense of the reality of wars, the book is a pleasure of reading!