The tragic life of an albino girl in Rhodesia, then Zimbabwe, takes on vital symbolic significance. At the core of this complex story are two important misinterpretations. And they stand in reasonably well for the deliberate blindness (on both sides) that contributed so much to Zimbabwe’s tragic degeneration under Mugabe.

What makes it such a gem is the imaginative evocation of life for ordinary Zimbabweans. As an albino, Memory (that’s her name) has a certain distance from all she sees. But her feelings are real as she watches her mother’s desperation lead to the point at which she is handed over to a gentle white professor who gives her a quality education to which she responds eagerly. Then wires get crossed and she betrays her benefactor. Eventually she lands in jail, and the ramshackle justice system brings her crashing back into the ordinary life of the poor.
The intersectionality feels a bit contrived, but Gappah is never heavy-handed with it. This seems to reflect her character’s emotional reserve, so that the point is not injustice but human damage and the role of misunderstanding in turning power into harm. It may never be a smash Hollywood hit, but it will be studied.
One small reservation. I got used to the Shona showing up, but I still would have appreciated footnotes for the passages I really wanted to understand.

The Book of Memory is a multilayered book, both an emotionally charged story of passion and crime, and a critical portrayal of Zimbabwean corruption and politics. Ultimately, however, it is a mature and honest depiction of a diverse society that is working through its violent and traumatic history, and how that history affects the present. It is a story of Zimbabweans of all races and alignments, and how prejudice, ignorance and corruption continue to cause immense tragedy. Gappah is not the voice of Zimbabwe, but she adds her voice to the chorus of Zimbabwean writers who are doing incredible things with fiction, and in The Book of Memory she hits all the right notes.