{"title":"尼日利亚-比夫拉内战文学缺乏回归","authors":"S. David","doi":"10.1163/18757421-05001007","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"\n When the Nigeria-Biafra civil war ended in July 1970, the Commander in Chief of the Federal Army, General Yakubu Gowon, declared that there was “no victor no vanquished” and, consequently, drew an iron curtain on a painful historical moment. This closure foreclosed further engagements with the events of the war in a manner that imposed a “code of silence” on its historiography. However, in the face of this silence and the silencing of public remembrances, private remembrances have continued to bloom. And in recent times, these remembrance(s) have fertilized a virulent demand for secession. I argue that literary accounts of the conflict question its ‘closure’ through what I call ‘lack of return.’ Relying on Van der Merwe and Gobodo-Madikizela’s conception of narratives as spaces of healing, I engage in a close reading of one fictional account—Saro-Wiwa’s Sozaboy—and two memoirs—Achebe’s There Was a Country and Chukwurah’s The Last Train to Biafra—to examine how narratives of Biafra call attention to the persistent freshness of the wounds and trauma of the war by creating stories that lack denouement. I find that in these texts, the silencing of ordnance doesn’t herald a return home—whether spatially or mentally. Consequently, these stories could be read as palimpsests that reveal a need for spaces of narrative engagements, abreaction, and healing.","PeriodicalId":35183,"journal":{"name":"Matatu","volume":"18 1","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2018-06-14","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Lack of Return in Nigeria-Biafra Civil War Literature\",\"authors\":\"S. David\",\"doi\":\"10.1163/18757421-05001007\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"\\n When the Nigeria-Biafra civil war ended in July 1970, the Commander in Chief of the Federal Army, General Yakubu Gowon, declared that there was “no victor no vanquished” and, consequently, drew an iron curtain on a painful historical moment. This closure foreclosed further engagements with the events of the war in a manner that imposed a “code of silence” on its historiography. However, in the face of this silence and the silencing of public remembrances, private remembrances have continued to bloom. And in recent times, these remembrance(s) have fertilized a virulent demand for secession. I argue that literary accounts of the conflict question its ‘closure’ through what I call ‘lack of return.’ Relying on Van der Merwe and Gobodo-Madikizela’s conception of narratives as spaces of healing, I engage in a close reading of one fictional account—Saro-Wiwa’s Sozaboy—and two memoirs—Achebe’s There Was a Country and Chukwurah’s The Last Train to Biafra—to examine how narratives of Biafra call attention to the persistent freshness of the wounds and trauma of the war by creating stories that lack denouement. I find that in these texts, the silencing of ordnance doesn’t herald a return home—whether spatially or mentally. Consequently, these stories could be read as palimpsests that reveal a need for spaces of narrative engagements, abreaction, and healing.\",\"PeriodicalId\":35183,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"Matatu\",\"volume\":\"18 1\",\"pages\":\"\"},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.0000,\"publicationDate\":\"2018-06-14\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"0\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"Matatu\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.1163/18757421-05001007\",\"RegionNum\":0,\"RegionCategory\":null,\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"Q3\",\"JCRName\":\"Arts and Humanities\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Matatu","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1163/18757421-05001007","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"Q3","JCRName":"Arts and Humanities","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
摘要
尼日利亚-比夫拉内战于1970年7月结束时,联邦军总司令雅库布·戈文将军宣布“没有胜利者也没有被征服者”,从而为痛苦的历史时刻画上了铁幕。这种关闭阻止了对战争事件的进一步接触,以一种对其历史编纂施加“沉默准则”的方式。然而,面对这种沉默和公众记忆的沉默,私人记忆继续绽放。最近,这些记忆助长了分裂的恶毒要求。我认为,通过我所谓的“缺乏回报”,对这场冲突的文学描述质疑了它的“终结”。依靠Van der Merwe和Gobodo-Madikizela关于叙事作为治愈空间的概念,我仔细阅读了一个虚构的故事——saro - wiwa的《sozaboi》——和两部回忆录——achebe的《有一个国家》和Chukwurah的《前往比夫拉的最后一列火车》——来研究比夫拉的叙事是如何通过创造缺乏结局的故事来唤起人们对战争创伤的持久关注的。我发现,在这些文本中,军械的沉寂并不预示着回家——无论是在空间上还是在精神上。因此,这些故事可以被解读为重写,揭示了对叙事参与、发泄和治愈空间的需求。
Lack of Return in Nigeria-Biafra Civil War Literature
When the Nigeria-Biafra civil war ended in July 1970, the Commander in Chief of the Federal Army, General Yakubu Gowon, declared that there was “no victor no vanquished” and, consequently, drew an iron curtain on a painful historical moment. This closure foreclosed further engagements with the events of the war in a manner that imposed a “code of silence” on its historiography. However, in the face of this silence and the silencing of public remembrances, private remembrances have continued to bloom. And in recent times, these remembrance(s) have fertilized a virulent demand for secession. I argue that literary accounts of the conflict question its ‘closure’ through what I call ‘lack of return.’ Relying on Van der Merwe and Gobodo-Madikizela’s conception of narratives as spaces of healing, I engage in a close reading of one fictional account—Saro-Wiwa’s Sozaboy—and two memoirs—Achebe’s There Was a Country and Chukwurah’s The Last Train to Biafra—to examine how narratives of Biafra call attention to the persistent freshness of the wounds and trauma of the war by creating stories that lack denouement. I find that in these texts, the silencing of ordnance doesn’t herald a return home—whether spatially or mentally. Consequently, these stories could be read as palimpsests that reveal a need for spaces of narrative engagements, abreaction, and healing.