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Saturday
Aug132011

In the Sea There are Crocodiles by Fabio Geda

 

Published by Doubleday on August 9, 2011

In the Sea There Are Crocodiles is a fictionalized account of Enaiatollah Akbari's real-life journey from Afghanistan to Italy, as he related it to Fabio Geda. Akbari left Afghanistan when he was ten years old, shortly after his mother disappeared. After spending time in Pakistan, Iran, Turkey, and Greece -- sometimes working, sometimes sleeping in parks, sometimes paying traffickers to help him move on -- Akbari ended up in Italy at the age of fifteen. He told his story to Geda when he was twenty-one (ages are approximate since Akbari isn't sure of his birth date) and encouraged Geda to write this book so that readers would better understand people like Akbari.

Akbari's story lacks the intensity and urgency that is a common feature of the best accounts of displaced persons fleeing oppressive regimes. Akbari had a difficult childhood, but his travels and struggles do not seem nearly as vexing as those of many other refugees. Even a month long walk from Iran to Turkey does not seem as arduous in the telling as it must have been. The narrative voice is surprisingly detached from the hardships it relates; it didn't make me feel the pain and deprivation that Akbari undoubtedly endured.

On a few occasions, Geda pauses to insert his own voice into the narrative, as if he were providing the reader with excerpts from a transcript of his interview with Akbari. Geda says things like "I'm interested in everything [you say], Enaiatollah" and "We'll say [this thing you think is important] loud and clear, Enaiat." These interruptions seem designed to portray Geda as an admirable biographer. A couple of the digressions were all about Geda; they did nothing to advance the story. The book would have been better without Geda's intrusions.

Too often, Akbari comes across as insensitive to the people who helped him. Akbari more than once tells us that his story is important -- and I have no doubt that it is -- but he makes it sound as if he doesn't regard anyone else's story as important. He expressly states that he doesn't want to tell Geda about his mother or friends or village because "they aren't important." At another point he refuses to talk about a woman who gave him food, clothing, and a bus ticket, because "She could have been anybody. ... Anybody could have behaved like that." Actually no -- most people wouldn't behave like that, which is exactly why she (not just her behavior toward Akbari) is important. According to Akbari, "It's what happens to you that changes your life, not where or who with." Many people changed Akbari's life by making his journey much easier than it could have been, and it struck me that he might have bothered himself to learn their names. Granting that Akbari is still young, it seems clear that he still has a lot to learn about life, and that realization diminished my belief that he is capable of telling an insightful story.

If Geda's goal was to tell Akbari's tale in Akbari's voice, I suppose I can't fault his unremarkable prose. Not every displaced person speaks poetically. Still, in a book that is packaged as a novel rather than a memoir, I expect stronger writing. Whether the voice is Geda's or Akbar's, it is surprisingly lifeless. Nothing about the unremarkable writing style encourages me to recommend the book.

Having said all that, there are things I like about this book, although I'm not sure they are the things Akbari intended his readers to take from it. I was impressed by all the people who helped Akbari along the way -- people willing to assist a boy from a foreign land who was a complete stranger to them. I also agree with Akbari that it's important for the world to understand what life is like for displaced persons. For those reasons, I give the book a guarded recommendation.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

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