Whose Hero? Reinventing Epic in French West African Literature by Jonathon Repinecz A dissertation submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in French in the Graduate Division of the University of California, Berkeley Committee in charge: Professor Karl Brito Professor Soraya Tlatli Professor Charles Briggs Fall 2013 Whose Hero? Reinventing Epic in French West African Literature Copyright 2013 by Jonathon Repinecz 1 Abstract Whose Hero? Reinventing Epic in French West African Literature by Jonathon Repinecz Doctor of Philosophy in French University of California, Berkeley Professor Karl Britto, Chair This dissertation explores the relationship between oral and written literature through the lens of epic. Springing from an engagement with scholarship that has defined and defended the notion of an African epic, it seeks to reevaluate the relevance of this category in the case of West African literature in French. While some critics have argued that the concept of epic is too Eurocentric to be relevant to African narrative traditions, most believe that to renounce the idea of an “African epic” is to stifle comparative literature, and possibly even to reproduce the trope of a Dark Continent too primitive to produce anything great. At the same time, scholars of francophone literature regularly rely on the notion of an “epic” dimension in some contemporary texts. However, such studies too frequently conform to Mikhail Bakhtin’s vision of this dimension as a grandiose but flat world of ancient heroes, utterly removed from the evolving concerns of the present—which belong to the realm of the novel. This study both draws on and challenges scholarship within these conversations in order to propose a more innovative reading of West African oral traditional narratives that we call epic, as well as their place in francophone writing. The inherently oral and performance-specific element of West African heroic narrative is a crucial motivating factor for its contemporary reincarnations in French-language literature. Rather than “flattening” the genre of epic, as Bakhtin and other critics have done, by framing it in terms of European points of reference, conservative group identities, or a navitist return to authenticity, African literature in French channels the critical reflexivity of oral heroic narrative: traditional material constantly reinvents itself in ways that are self-reflexive, adaptable to “modern” concerns, and indeed capable of offering social criticism in the present. For this reason, major African writers—specifically Amadou Hampâté Bâ of Mali, Ahmadou Kourouma of Ivory Coast, and Boubacar Boris Diop of Senegal—weave these traditions into their writing as a way of reimagining the relevance of precolonial discourse genres in the postcolonial world. A recurring goal of their novels is, for example, to challenge received interpretations of oral heroic narrative and to draw new inspiration from them regarding issues like contemporary politics, gender roles, and intergenerational relations. They also open up important theoretical questions, such as what it means to criticize the very category of “tradition” from within a “traditional” space. This strategy of rewriting allows us to think the epic-novel paradigm as depending not just on rupture, as much literary theory has emphasized, but also on continuity. The first two chapters of this study explore the category of West African epic from the point of view of colonial and postcolonial literary history and anthropology, while the final two 2 as well as the conclusion examine how this category is mobilized in the literary work of the individual writers mentioned above: Amadou Hampâté Bâ’s L’Etrange destin de Wangrin (1973) and posthumous memoirs Amkoullel, l’enfant peul (1991) and Oui mon commandant! (1994) in Chapter Three; Ahmadou Kourouma’s political-historical novelistic trilogy, consisting of Les Soleils des Indépendances (1968), Monnè, outrages et défis (1990), and En attendant le vote des bêtes sauvages (1998) in Chapter Four; and Boubacar Boris Diop’s Wolof-language novel Doomi Goolo (2003), adapted into French as Les Petits de la Guenon (2009), in the conclusion. In general, the discursive shift that is traced over time leads away from epic as “usable past”— that is, as an interpretation of history that serves political ends—to a critical consciousness of this usability. The authors in question specifically try to reorient heroic narrative away from its generally understood function of legitimating existing power structures and transmitting dominant ideology, using it instead to articulate critiques and alternatives to these. They also draw attention to the often dangerous mobilizations of epic discourse, which involve notions of authenticity and heroism, made by political elites. i Contents Acknowledgements ii Introduction How can we Read African Epic? 1 Chapter One 10 “This Half-Black Iliad”: Epic and the Politics of Comparison Chapter Two 33 Uncertain Heroisms: The Politics of Performance and Interpretation Chapter Three 53 Fetishes of Empire: Complex Historicities in the Writings of Amadou Hampâté Bâ Chapter Four 76 “A Hero is Not Welcome”: Imagined Traditionalities in Ahmadou Kourouma’s Political-Historical Trilogy Conclusion 93 “The Tales of Tomorrow”: Toward a Futurist Vision of Tradition References 103 ii Acknowledgements It would be impossible to name everyone who is deserving of my thanks. Throughout my years at Berkeley and my time abroad, a great many people have contributed in a multitude of ways to the completion of this dissertation. My apologies to anyone I may have missed here. I am grateful above all to the committee that has accompanied me on each step in the completion of this task: Karl Britto, my advisor, for his extremely insightful readings, attention to detail, and unwavering reliability; Soraya Tlatli, for her thoughtful feedback, especially on all matters theoretical; and Charles Briggs, whose seminar on “Postcolonial Practices of Folklore” largely inspired this project in the first place, and who has never stopped encouraging me to expand my intellectual horizons. Many colleagues have contributed comments, readings, rebuttals, and discussions as my writing unfolded. The faculty of the UC Berkeley French department have my eternal gratitude. I have been endlessly fortunate to count on friends there and elsewhere for intellectual stimulation and collaboration, as well as support of all kinds, both big and small: Livi Yoshioka- Maxwell, Tobias Warner, Maria Vendetti, Ivy Mills, Fatoumata Seck, Celine Piser, Caitlin Scholl, Juan Caballero, Anna Skrzypczynksa, Maya Smith, Sarah Zimmerman, Matthew Smith, and Matthew Evans, among others. I thank Justin Ward for his help with translation from German. This study owes a great deal to my Wolof teachers, especially Paap Alsaan Sow and Assane Diallo, whose linguistic expertise and patience as educators enabled me not only to read Doomi Goolo in the original, but also to survive in Senegal. My analysis of this novel also benefitted from the razor-sharp feedback of the Wolof Literature Working Group. Jërë ngeen jëf. I must also express thankfulness to professors from farther afield who have sharpened my thought by generously giving of their time: David Conrad of SUNY Ogdensburg, Mathieu Hilgers of the Université Libre de Bruxelles, and Bassirou Dieng, Samba Dieng, and Amadou Ly of the Université Cheikh Anta Diop de Dakar. The hospitality of many friends during my peregrinations throughout the U.S., Europe, and Africa deserves special thanks. I am grateful to Brian Balingit, Maureen Orda, and Julien Lafrance-Vanasse in the Bay Area; Julien Marciliac and Christopher Whitehead in Paris; Amath Sy and his family, Anta Fall, Christophe Mbodj, Jacqueline Manga, Amadou Diallo, and the Samb family in Senegal; and Anushka Ratnayake in Mali. Thanks are due to the French Department, Center for African Studies, and Townsend Center for the Humanities at UC Berkeley, which have graciously and consistently supported my research abroad. The French Department at Reed College is also deserving of gratitude for the moral support it offered during the final stages of this enterprise. The assistance in research and documentation provided by a number of institutions warrants acknowledgment. These include the Université Cheikh Anta Diop de Dakar, the Institut Fondamental de l’Afrique Noire, the Senegalese National Archives, and the West African Resource Center in Senegal; and the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Archives Nationales d’Outre-Mer, Institut National de l’Audiovisuel, and Bibliothèque de Recherches Africaines in France. Finally, I have no words to thank my parents, Martin and Yolanda Repinecz, and my brother, Martin, for being there for me, through everything. 1 Introduction How can we Read African Epic? Any historical look at modern African literature has a dilemma to confront. Do we assign it a principally European genealogy, considering writing in French or English as it moves through an arc of colonial, anticolonial, and postcolonial intellectual contexts? Do we indulge in the “bien pensant platitudes” of connecting it “to some generalized roots in ‘the oral tradition’” (Austin 1999b: 82)? Or is there a road less traveled, one that would allow us to account for the intersections between oral tradition and specific intellectual and literary uses of it? While this problem is hardly the only one we face when studying African writing, or even really as simple as