Book Review: “Masquerade” by O.O. Sangoyomi
Stockholm Syndrome?
As a member of his former congregation, I know the ex-pastor of my church, who is recently semi-retired, would be captivated by Masquerade by O. O. Sangoyomi. (He was born to missionary parents in Kenya and is currently in that country seeking to reconnect with his past heritage.) He always tried to incorporate novels by East African writers into his sermons, hoping to inspire the congregation to explore such literature. Therefore, when Masquerade appeared on my book-reviewing radar, I jumped at the opportunity to read it. The book, while set in West Africa in the 15th-century pre-colonialism, is inspired by the myth of Persephone; this unique setting, with Africa as a pseudo-character, challenges the power dynamics that the northern hemisphere has over the mostly southern one. The setting allows author Sangoyomi to make some pointed observations about the similar power dynamics between women and men. This debut novel is impressive, even if it does take a while to get going.
The novel concerns a young woman named Òdòdó, who works as a blacksmith in the city of Timbuktu, which seemingly calls its female blacksmiths witches. One day, she is kidnapped and taken across the Sahara Desert to the capital city of Ṣàngótẹ̀ where she is to be wed as the second wife of the local warrior king. In a case of potential Stockholm Syndrome, Òdòdó falls in love with her captor. However, she comes to realize that being the luxurious wife of the king is a better situation for her to be in rather than as a poor blacksmith. Still, she refuses to get married until her mother can be found and witness this elevation of position. The problem is that her mother is nowhere to be seen, seemingly inspiring other female blacksmiths to leave their jobs. Has Òdòdó gotten into a position that’s well over her head? Is she also being double-crossed by her to-be husband and his jealous first wife? Time will tell.
The book is interesting, particularly through the feminist themes it explores. For instance, women are painted as having to be wilier and more intellectual to get past the brute force favored by men. However, the heroine of this tale does get kidnapped. Some readers will find this will leave a bitter taste in their mouth. While Masquerade does have feminist leanings, particularly as the book nears its conclusion, it still might be hard to fathom why a woman would fall for someone who did her harm and injustice. However, I will concede that perhaps the situation was common then, and I can certainly see how Òdòdó may see the kidnapping as advantageous. Still, even though I might be carping about something that could be waved away as cultural relativism, the kidnapping aspect of the book initially soured me on the tale. If I hadn’t needed to read the book for review, I might have abandoned it — if not for that reason, then because the first half of the tale is relatively dry, with nothing too much happening. Things begin to get intriguing only when Òdòdó gains a seat at the general’s table.
The book’s big turning point is when Òdòdó begins to see physical battles and warfare with her own eyes. That’s where Masquerade truly begins to pick up steam. Until then, the novel spends a great deal of time detailing Òdòdó’s education and the comings and goings of big city life. The result might put most modern readers to sleep, given that this meticulous detail is a bit like reading about the speed of molasses. Thus, it could be argued that Masquerade could use some pruning. However, I would encourage readers to keep attacking the book as it does get much better in its second half. The big question is whether readers will care that much to see this tome through to its conclusion. Their patience will be rewarded if they do because this novel yields impressive returns. There’s court intrigue and some political maneuvering as Òdòdó captures her to-be husband’s ear with a relatively successful military strategy. Even though some twists towards the novel’s end are a tad bit predictable, there suddenly is enough excitement in the text that even formulaic plot points become suspenseful.
Ultimately, Masquerade is worth reading, even if it takes some time for the reader to warm up to it. It doesn’t help that Òdòdó’s warrior king treats her like a cad, which is only resolved at the end of the novel, and that whole kidnapping plot point is one that modern readers may feel a little uncomfortable in their skin reading about. Still, despite its flaws (and many major ones), Masquerade is a recommended read. We need stories like this told of precolonial times in African nations to come to learn and understand these cultures. To that end, Masquerade was an instructive read for me; it was a true eye-opener. This book is about the powerless working their way into powerful situations and the cost they must take to get there. It’s not always an easy book, and it may leave some readers squirming, but Masquerade gets to the truths behind people’s masks. If you’re looking for something different and startling, I recommend starting here, particularly if you’re a particular pastor who has sadly left a grieving congregation of churchgoers mourning their loss. Once you get past the book’s lumpy beginning and early mid-section, it turns into something compelling. In other words, this one’s for you if you’re into that sort of thing.
O.O. Sangoyomi’s Masquerade was published by Forge Books on July 2, 2024.
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