A review by Raisedon Baya of Tendai Huchu's The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician

There is literature that comes to you, sits with you, keeps you company, helps you sleep and then goes away and never bothers you or visits you again. Then there is literature that comes -usually without much fanfare or much ado - grabs you by the collar, sits you down, commands you to listen, asks you important questions, demands you to think, takes away your sleep and when it leaves, leaves you lost, unsure of what just happened or what you just experienced. Literature that touches you in places many others will not reach. This literature, rich and unflattering, is rare and special.

When I picked Tendai Huchu's book, The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician , I honestly didn't know what to expect. The title, somehow, looked heavy, brainy - complex. I honestly was in no mood for a heavy and complex read. Little did I know I was in for some ride. Several pages into the book Tendai Huchu had me sitting on the edge of the cliff, holding my knees, not knowing whether he wanted me to jump off or hang on.

Huchu swung me from one storyline to another, one character's life to another - from the Magistrate to the Mathematician, to the Maestro and back. He took me around Edinburgh, Scotland , showed me the streets, the nightclubs, the beach and homes where most immigrants spend their time doing care work - 'wiping bums' as many like to say. He painted characters that were so vivid, so realistic, so relatable - characters that had come overseas in search of dreams, characters still dreaming and those who had been uprooted and looked lost. He painted, and painted and painted.

Huchu's writing, the weaving of the stories, the details, the evidence of deep research, the humour - it sometimes just jumped on you from nowhere - and the richness of language made me want to pause after every chapter and call all my literature loving friends for a feast. 

This book, with it's strange title, was a lesson in reading, in literature. What it means, what it must mean for different people. What it can do to our lives. What is good literature and what is not? The books we read and the books we don't read. Who decides or influences our reading list. A subtle highlight of the complex relationship between readers, authors, and the literary world.

It was also a lesson in Zimbabwean music - that it has meaning and lessons and can be a soothing and powerful companion when one is uprooted from home and placed in some strange foreign land with its strange cultures and expectations. 

Another lesson was in diaspora/immigrant life. Tendai Huchu paints a vivid canvas about this kind of life. He gives it to you as it is. Like a doctor who gives you pills knowing they won't be sweet to the tongue or nurse that gives a child an injection knowing its sting will shock the child but also very aware of the necessity of the shock. Unflinching, yet necessary. 

Huchu explores themes such as immigration, identity, culture, politics, especially the complex relationship between Zimbabwe's official opposition and the ruling party. After putting the book down you'll ask yourself one question "is it a political novel or not?" And your answer to that will be interesting to other readers of the book.