British-Sudanese writer Jamal Mahjoub's latest novel The Fugitives is a delightful tale of a fictional Sudanese dance band, the Kamanga Kings, and how the son of one of the founders, an English teacher called Rushdy, reforms the band and goes on a raucous road trip to play their music in the US.
Several novels about music and society have appeared in this column over the years, such as Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, Roddy Doyle's The Commitments, Oscar Hijuelos' The Mambo Kings, and my favourite, the novella about Buddy Bolden's life (one of the early pioneers of jazz), Coming Through Slaughter by Michael Ondaatje.
Many of these novels were made into successful movies. For instance, in Thailand, a novel about an aspiring luk thung singer Mon Rak Transistor by the late political exile Wat Wanlayangkoon was made into a very successful movie in 2001, directed by Pen-Ek Ratanaruang. If you feel down or have the blues, I highly recommend you get a copy of the film (legal ones are readily available) and enjoy its romantic tale (and the wonderful theme song by legend Surapon Sombatcharoen, Luem Mai Long).
The Fugitives opens with narrator Rushdy trying to teach literature to a misbehaving class of spoiled rich kids. He lives with his mother and uncle, the latter of whom was a co-leader of the Kamanga Kings; Rushdy's late father, a Bohemian, inspired him to take up the trumpet. The household is upturned when a letter arrives from the US government inviting the long-defunct band to perform in America.
The background to the Kings' rise to fame before a bloody coup by Omal Al-Bashir explains how the entertainment industry was destroyed by zealots in power. Together with his friend, the aged original singer, and his uncle, Rushdy auditions musicians in their attempt to recreate the Kings' magical sound. Eventually, a seven-member band plus sponsors and unexplained hangers-on board a flight and part two of the novel, the road trip, begins.
The group's culture shock is brilliantly described by Mahjoub, right from the surreal and nightmarish immigration procedures in Trumpian USA to the actual performances. Mahjoub's small details reveal so much, such as how the new immigrants marvel at the weather (it's one of the first things one notices when living in a new country). Strangers in a strange land.
Tensions emerge in the group (its members are a cross-section of Sudanese society) as Rushdy's close friend, Hisham, decides to stay in the US and work illegally, and the author uses this internal conflict as a way of dealing with some of the questions that centre this book. Who are we? Where is our real home. Is it where we are born or is it where we feel most comfortable? And how does music represent this feeling or belonging?
Rushdy has to make some decisions about what he is going to do, but I'm not going to spoil your reading pleasure by revealing these details. You'll have to read the book to find out.
What I liked about the book is the seamless way Mahjoub weaves into the story real figures from music history and their influence, such as Louis Armstrong (his early 60s African tour inspired many real musicians and bands, as well as the fictional Kamanga Kings), so that we can imagine the Kamanga Kings' sound and social impact even though it never existed.
The perfect musical soundtrack and accompaniment to the novel (Canongate, Mahjoub's publisher, has put up two Spotify playlists that you can access via the publisher's website) is an album by a Sudanese master musician I reviewed about a year ago: Sharhabil Ahmed. He was known as the King of Sudanese Jazz, and he was very popular in the early 1970s (the same period as the Kamanga Kings). As I said in my review, he didn't play jazz as we know it. His music was a heady blend of Sudanese traditional music, Congolese rumba, highlife, Arabic and Western music (rock'n'roll and funk). African bands used the term jazz to denote modernity.
The Habibi Funk label's wonderful The King Of Sudanese Jazz is a must-have for any self-respecting music collection and is a great accompaniment to this fine novel. Indeed, I have just received a copy of Habibi Funk's weird and wonderful compilation, An Eclectic Selection Of Music From The Arab World, Part 2 which features a wide selection of Arabic disco, funk and fabulous organ sounds from artists I have never heard of. There are some terrific tracks on the album, which is well worth checking out. More info from the label's Facebook page.
John Clewley can be contacted at clewley.john@gmail.com
