The work of Colombian writer Laura Restrepo (73) has long been forgotten in the Netherlands. With her new, impressive novel Song of old lovers she makes a well-deserved comeback.
Thirteen novels she already has to her name. Yet Colombian writer Laura Restrepo, who lives mostly in Spain, is a rather unknown to most Dutch readers. After translations of her first few novels, subsequent books were not published in Dutch. Fortunately, this passionately committed writer was given shelter with her new novel by Wereldbibliotheek publishers. Because it is very much worth reading.
Mythical queen
Were Restrepo's first books mainly rooted in the violent realities of her native Colombia, her new book Song of old lovers is set in Yemen. Main character Bos Mutas, a writer, researches the Queen of Saba (or Sheba in English), who inspired writers such as Thomas Aquinas, Gérard de Neval, André Malraux, Gustave Flaubert and Arthur Rimbaud.
This mythical dark-skinned queen discovered incense and, with its production, became one of the most powerful and prosperous princes of the ancient world. Her empire stretched across the borderlands of Yemen, Somalia and Ethiopia. But unlike other rulers, she did not build gigantic palaces or wallow in opulence; she remained a nomad. Her wisdom impressed Israel's king Solomon, who wanted to marry her.
Overwhelming
During his quest, Bos Mutas is taken by Somali midwife Zahra Bayda, who works for Médecins Sans Frontières in a camp with a hundred thousand refugees. In the beautiful capital Sanaa, which according to legend is said to have been founded by Noah's son, he admires the beautifully carved, centuries-old buildings. In this region tormented by war, hunger and drought, where human civilisation once began, overwhelming beauty and overwhelming misery coexist.
Restrepo magisterially manages to blend ancient myths and fables with brutal contemporary reality, and lets old and new cultures and religions shake hands.
That makes Song of old lovers into an engaging and rich 'classic' novel, full of references to historical and cultural heritage, in which time becomes a fluid concept.
How did you end up in Yemen?
"For years, Médecins Sans Frontières has regularly invited me to go with them to areas where they work, to the heart of a crisis. Places where famine and other disasters have been going on for so long that the press has turned its back on them, where people live in such horrible conditions without the world noticing. For that reason, they sometimes invite writers and photographers for reports so that more attention is paid to these humanitarian crises. Previously, besides Colombia of course, I have been to India and Mexico, and to refugee camps in Greece and Syria. I always write reports first, followed by a novel if necessary.
Because of all the restrictions, sometimes you don't hear where you are going until the day itself. When I heard it was going to be Yemen, I immediately thought of the Queen of Saba; I knew the myth about her and King Solomon from before. Yemen, Somalia and Ethiopia would have formed the kingdom of Saba together, I had read in a very nice little book by André Malraux. That was all I knew about that region."
What did you find?
"We went to Aden, straight into the desert. There we encountered a huge mass of women who had crossed the Gulf of Aden. They come into the country from Africa - Kenya, Somalia - by many thousands and thousands at a time. So many men have been killed or soldiered away by the wars that this gigantic crowd consists only of women with their children, and old and sick people. Almost naked, burnt by sun and salt, they trek into that desert, without a guide or an idea of where to go, without means to make that crossing. It takes courage. Walking from nowhere to nowhere, they live without a tomorrow. But with an iron will to arrive somewhere where they might survive. If not themselves, then at least their children.
These women, who owned nothing, let alone jewellery, silk or camels, proudly, sometimes almost defiantly, answered my question about who they were: 'I am a descendant of the Queen of Saba.' In that moment, in that place, myth and reality met. The Queen of Saba was alive. And she was not a queen on a throne, but a migrant."
What did that visit do to you?
"Time in a linear sense disappeared. That is also an effect of the infinity of desert. Yemen is a biblical place. They tell you along the way: on the left you see a refugee camp, on the right the remains of the Ark of the Covenant. At the spot where Cain and Abel are said to have lived, hundreds of women were now queuing for doctors at a field hospital. You start to experience and understand time in a completely different way.
I have travelled every continent, but nowhere have I seen more beautiful cities than in Yemen. In the middle of the desert, there are groves where vegetables and herbs are grown, while at the same time a war is raging that is destroying it all. Because of Covid, climate disasters, wars and nuclear threats, in recent years many people worldwide have felt that the end of times is near. But in Yemen, even then, the feeling crept up on me that those end times may have already begun. An alliance of the UK, the US and Saudi Arabia bombed the country, without residents understanding why. There was drought, famine, a plague of locusts. Everywhere you looked, you saw the end of the world. Not as a Judgement Day, but as a disaster that kept unfolding and people were living in it. But how do you write about that? I realised that this called for a style and structure that could reflect this feeling."
It succeeded: in the book, centuries, cultures and religions melt together as if it were.
"That's nice to hear, because it took me seven years to complete the book. During that time, so much has changed, so much has happened. Together with my husband - he died three months ago - and my son, I live in a fourteenth-century house. Since we are all writers, we all have our own workspace in the house. At breakfast every morning, we would get together and share what we were working on. So then I would come downstairs: 'Singer Patti Smith has entered the story, because in magazine Rolling Stone she was called the Queen of Sheba. New elements kept presenting themselves. I didn't think them up, they revealed themselves to me. The extraordinary thing was that during the third trip Covid broke out and we got trapped in this fourteenth-century house in the middle of the forest, which in a way also has a sense of timelessness. The perfect circumstances to immerse myself completely in this novel."
As far as you are concerned, what do the kings of Saba symbolise?
"This woman and her descendants, the women who keep going every day despite drought, pain, famine and death, represent the future of a very large part of humanity in this world. I saw the future there.
I got another insight at the National Museum in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, where the skeleton of Lucy, so far the oldest female humanoid found on earth, is on display. A very small person, standing upright. I imagined her looking at the horizon thinking that life might be better there. It started with her. As humans, we have always been adrift, searching for a better, happier life."
In fact, we have always been migrants.
"Migration is the theme of our time. I greatly admire all those people who live against the odds, against all odds. In the West, we see migrants as a big, anonymous mass of people who are a threat and need to be kept out if necessary with military intervention. But when those women said to me, 'I am the descendant of the kings of Saba', I thought above all: this universal myth, known in the West as well as in the East, can give all these anonymous people a face, provide them with meaning and relevance in the outside world.
Myths are not unreal, they are a part of ourselves. That is why they have universal expressiveness. Especially in an uncertain time like this, they can help us understand what it all means and what we are in danger of losing."
About the author
Laura Restrepo (b. 1950) is a writer and journalist. She grew up in Colombia, but has lived mostly in the Spanish region of Catalonia for many years. Her social reports appear in El País. Four of her novels were previously translated into Dutch: Leopard in the sun (1993) and The dark bride (1999) published by Meulenhoff; Delirium (2004) and Too many heroes (2009) at Luitingh-Sijthoff. Her new novelSong of old lovers was published by Wereldbibliotheek publishers.
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