Paulina Chiziane: The Power of the feminine voice

Translated by: Bárbara Ferreira

There are books that teach us. Now, others seem to have the purpose of making us think. If asked, what I consider the most captivating is having someone to talk to about these stories which stay with us. Throughout this essay I am going to share, in a general view, the opinions and perspectives I have towards the Mozambican writer Paulina Chiziane and her novel The Joyful Song of the Partridge. With this, I consider it unnecessary to say that I am going to talk about a lot of other themes.

In 2023, I had the opportunity of developing my desire of hearing and being heard by other authors through the Literary Club of the Fernando Piteira Santos Library, located in Amadora, moderated by Tânia Ganho. With time, I got more and more amazed to enter this world of books while communicating with other people. Nowadays, I am the Literary Club’s moderator in that same library and have learned that what is important is to talk passionately about the novels that so many people enjoy. It is not necessary to be a renowned writer or editor. Being myself and allowing for others to be comfortable to the point of being themselves is enough. In March, the chosen book was The Joyful Song of the Partridge, by Paulina Chiziane. Initially, I thought the book wouldn’t be a cause of great discussion, until I got there and was left surprised with the opinions that each one had about it.

Chiziane’s novels are set in a lyrical environment, making us reflect about the female condition, racism, cultural realism, ambition (and even obsession) with the conquest of a better life, along with many other themes…It seems that even the most disturbing stories can be romanticized when Chiziane writes them. On top of that, it has to be considered that Chiziane was the first woman in Mozambique to publish a novel (with her first book Ballad of Love in the Wind). This act of courage has won so much of my respect and my interest as well as other readers’. However, in order to better understand the type of novels the author writes, I would like to quote her: “It is said that I am a romancist and that I was the first mozambican woman to write a novel, but I say: I am a story teller, not a romancist. I write books with many stories, big and little stories. I get inspired by the short stories around the bonfire, my first art school”. In other words, she is the type of writer who in fact intends on developing the content of some stories. In order to read them, it is necessary to savour the journey that the author desires so much to share.

Sometimes, there are moments of “stories” in African oral tradition which are created with the intention of developing a bit of these legends which are so famous in their culture. This aspect makes it so that it is possible to make a parallel with Elif Shafak’s novel, The Bastard of Istanbul. Elif Shafak also feels this pleasure in providing the reader with her perspective. We can feel a certain vulnerability in the fact that these authors talk about such present subjects in their hearts. After all, these are stories that they heard during their childhood which brings a certain necessity in sharing them. Initially, while reading these authors’ novels, there is a literary cultural shock. Their stories live in fiction, but these instances of cultural truth shock the reader. At least, I felt that, due to being such a different culture, I couldn’t immediately connect with the stories and life experiences of these protagonists.

The title The Joyful Song of the Partridge gives much space for discussion about this novel. The song of the partridge is normally the male’s in order for the female to come and mate. In this book, the writer reverses the parts. Delfina is the one who comes at night to call the mates. Our Delfina is the focus and vehicle of transformation throughout the book. And, thanks to her, we get to accompany the following generation. And that is exactly how the book starts: with the “crazy lady from the river”, Maria das Dores, who is Delfina’s daughter, looking for her children. She walks through the city without even realising they are right in front of her.

Delfina’s obsession for a better life makes it so that her own daughter is condemned, which leads her to marry and lose her virginity with Simba, the village’s wizard, who mistreats and rapes her. To me, this part of the story is the best one. Maria das Dores is forced to grow and a part of her dies, never coming back. At this point in the book, there is a painful moment of description, however, instead of being about what happened physically, there is a conflict of thoughts that appear in the narrator’s head, such as: “A girl subjected to the sadistic obsession of those who should love her” (excerpt situated in page 240).

Another pillar very well structured by the author is, as I have already mentioned, racism. Delfina intends to be the “black woman that white people like”. She spends the entirety of the narrative trying to be what she is not. She has this dream of an idealized Cinderella that if she was a white woman or acted like one, her problems would disappear. When she, finally, temporarily accomplishes this dream, thanks to Soares, there is a moment of racial intolerance towards what she truly is. In fact, she even gets to the point of treating her own black children as slaves and openly chooses her mutilated daughter. Delfina radicalizes the assimilation traces and discriminates against all the others. The racial question throughout the book is notorious, molding the characters.

In the end, the narrative finishes in an idealized way: with the children’s forgiveness for what their own mother did to them. In my point of view, this is a rose coloured lens perspective of the story. Deep down, we are all somewhat like Delfina. We search for a better life and end up “selling” ourselves and making decisions that would change the whole course of a life so that we get what we wish for in a perspective that is, most of the time, irrealistic. The big problem with this character is that she doesn’t know how far she should go.

These are three generations of women who reach the reader’s imagination, where racial, tribal, power, feminist, independence and colonialist questions culminate in an unrealistic ending, in which forgiveness prevails.

Could Maria das Dores truly forgive Delfina for the decisions her mother made for her? Does a mother who “sells” her own daughter for an ambition that is simply selfish, while destroying her innocence and future, have the right of being forgiven?

In the end, everything goes down to the acceptance of the characters’ human mistakes and to forgiveness, allowing the reader to agree or not, but with this being the finale chosen by the author, “story” teller.

In fact, a very rich book in its narrative that captures and awakens emotions in us, such as love, hate, denial, acceptance of a culture different from our own, creating a mixture of emotions— and that is what makes it so singular and unique.

To those who haven’t read it, go read it and feel diverse emotions in this journey by Paulina Chiziane!