The What

I've recently finished reading Dave Eggers' new novel What is the What. It is the story of a Sudanese man who was a refugee of the Sudanese civil war and is now living in America. Calling it a novel is a little confusing because it is a true story told in the voice of the main character, but too many elements of storytelling like dialog and detail have been added to truly call it a biography. Usually this would make it a memoir, but I think the publishers are a little afraid to use that category after the whole James Frey A Million Little Pieces fiasco that happened about a year ago.
What is the What is the life story of Valentino Achak Deng, one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. It recounts his childhood before the war through the attack on his village, his fleeing from one refugee camp to another and then immigrating to America. There are relentless accounts of the tragedies in his life, but in the book humanity is never overshadowed by the crimes against it.

The narrative structure follows Valentino through one day, while he tells his stories to the people he encounters, even though they aren't listening.

The title of the book refers to a Sudanese creation myth. God created a Dinka man and woman (the Dinka are a group of tribes in southern Sudan) and he gave them cattle. The cattle were perfectly suited to their life and would provide all the meat and milk the people could want. But then, and this is the part I love, God said the Dinka could choose between having the cattle or having The What.
I love this part because it is so much like Let's Make a Deal: They were offered a chance to give up a domesticated animal that could be the basis of a civilization and take what's behind curtain number 2.
I don't want to give any more away about the book, but it is a great and moving account of the civil war in Sudan and Darfur and features a cameo by NBA legend Manute Bol.

Strange Transmissions

The other day I turned on the radio on my alarm clock because I was sick of the music on my computer. I switched it to AM and slowly spun the dial to try to find 1125 Radio Hauraki for some decent classic rock. But as I was searching I tuned in something else. It was old, beyond oldies. The song was a sort of Mexican-influenced love ballad from the 40s or 50s. It was followed by another. I wasn't really into it, and I wanted to keep searching and hopefully get some good music. But I was transfixed, it was like the radio equivalent of a train wreck. I was listening to the most whack station I had ever heard, but I couldn't turn away. I didn't believe it, and I still kind of don't.

I finished what I was doing and turned the radio off. Then today I was folding some laundry and I turned it back on again. This time it was an Irish woman hosting a show of songs that were apparently write-in requests for English and Irish ballads. I think I'm picking up a signal from the past. Commercials or call letters have not been broadcast. I think it's a transmission that was made at least 40 years ago and got beamed into space and has bounced off a distant satellite and is now returning to the wire antenna taped to my bedroom wall. I don't really want to listen to this all the time, but I don't want to change the station for fear that I'll never find it again. I've decided not to listen long or often or investigate any further because I don't want to ruin this wonderful strange station with the mundane truth.

Update 6/2/07: It's gone.