Staff Pick
Angolan writer José Eduardo Agualusa, Independent Foreign Fiction Prize-winning author of The Book of Chameleons, has penned some two dozen works, yet A General Theory of Oblivion is but the fifth to be rendered into English. Inspired by the true story of Ludovica Fernandes Mano, who bricked herself into her Luandan apartment on the eve of Angolan independence (and would reside there for the next three decades — subsisting on rooftop vegetables and visiting pigeons for nourishment, and books and furniture for warmth), A General Theory of Oblivion was adapted from an unfilmed screenplay Agualusa wrote earlier.
Ludo's agoraphobia (partially resulting from an earlier rape) limits her world to the confines of her apartment, yet she chronicles her days within a series of journals and charcoal pictures drawn upon her walls. Doleful, yet delighting, Agualusa's novel unfurls over decades, offering a touching glimpse of a life spent closeted (while her nation endured great change and upheaval). There is much to love about A General Theory of Oblivion, though the book's defining quality (as it was in Agualusa's previous outings) is its rich, descriptive, and melodious prose. Tracing the turmoil of Angola's independence via the enigmatic non-participation of one of its residents, Agualusa has added a magnificent footnote to his country's storied history. Recommended By Jeremy G., Powells.com
Synopses & Reviews
Synopsis
As the country goes through various political upheavals from colony to socialist republic to civil war to peace and capitalism, the world outside seeps into Ludo's life through snippets on the radio, voices from next door, glimpses of someone peeing on a balcony, or a man fleeing his pursuers.
A General Theory of Oblivion is a perfectly crafted, wild patchwork of a novel, playing on a love of storytelling and fable."
Synopsis
Winner of the 2017 Dublin International Literary Award
Shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize 2016
Who is this solitary young woman on the top floor of a luxury building in Luanda, Angola's capital, and why has she walled off her apartment? Her name is Ludo...Her brooding presence is inescapable" -- Kirkus Reviews
On the eve of Angolan independence, an agoraphobic woman named Ludo bricks herself into her Luandan apartment for 30 years, living off vegetables and the pigeons she lures in with diamonds, burning her furniture and books to stay alive and writing her story on the apartment's walls.
Almost as if we're eavesdropping, the history of Angola unfolds in A General Theory of Oblivion through the stories of those Ludo sees from her window in a a wild patchwork of a novel, playing on a love of storytelling and fable.