The Language of the Land : Living Among a Stone-Age People in Africa

Rating:
Summary: A compelling portrait
Review: In "The Language of the Land" James Stephenson tells a compelling story of his life among the Hadzabe. He celebrates the nobility of this people at the same time exposing the specter of modern civilization and its potential impact on them. Mr. Stephenson's immersion into the very soul of the Hadzabe makes for excellent reading. His descriptions are vivid and his perceptions poetic. His friends and guides became my friends, his fear mine. I could smell the blood of freshly slaughtered game; feel the second wind of survival. His experience not only took him into the day-to-day existence of the Hadzabe but also their spirit world and ultimatley a journey into his own Mythology. The accounts of his adventure made me acutely aware of the thin edge we all live on. I admire his courage and appreciate his gift of this story.

Rating:
Summary: Africa awaits you...
Review: James Stephenson combines an extarodinary adventure with a poetic sensibility in this work that is rare indeed. Interested readers will find _The Language of the Land_ a window to a world as old and as sacred as human memory itself, simultaneously intimate and expansive. I found myself laughing at the exploits of James and the hunters Mustaffa and Sabina and others in their wild celebrations after the hunts, short of breath on the safaris where they passed within feet of lions and warned them off with medicine, and completely caught up in the intricate, tattered tapestry of Africa Mr. Stephenson reveals here.

This book is beautifully produced, and Mr. Stephenson's narrative is combined with photographs of the African bush outsiders will never, one hopes, actually ever see. It also combines what surely must be the first ever collaborative art between a Westerner and the Hadzabe, several works of which are included in a stunning portfolio of color plates at the end of the book.

If you have an interest in human history, Africa and its peoples, strong poetic prose, or a story which is piercingly important at this point in our world, then you need to get this book, read and experience it, and then pass it on to your children.

Rating:
Summary: The Point of Shared Humanity
Review: James Stephenson's (known as Jemsi to the Hadzabe) book cannot be called unique, but certainly deserves the title of unusual. In the tradition of Kabloona, a white man blends moves in with a tribe, eats what they eat, dances what they dance, sings what they sing. Unless it is raining and uncomfortable, then he goes to Zanzibar for a sex and drug odyssey until the weather where the Hadzabe live improves a bit.

Without a doubt Jemsi has achieved a deeper knowledge of the Hadzabe than any other American. While Jemsi absorbed first hand knowledge of their songs, rituals, and sacred places, he exchanged with them confabulatory tales of America, a place inhabited with bears that fly and have sex with humans. Explaining that he felt that he should imitate the "tall tale" method of story telling used by the Hadzabe, his gift for the knowledge that was given freely to him by the tribe was a few goats, some cornmeal, a few good drinking bouts on the house, and what some might call outright lies about Jemsi's own American culture.

Noting the devastating effect that alcohol was having on the Hadzabe, Jemsi's response was to freely participate in the drinking binges, even supplying the cash that made the binges possible on some occasions. Put into an American context, it would be interesting to see how the enthusiastic reviewers of this book would feel about a European that came to America to have an "experience", moved in with an Indian tribe, slept with their women without regard to possible offspring, and actively abetted the alcoholism that so devastates some Native American tribes.

Bottom line? A fabulous tale is marred by the narcissism of the author. Stephenson's behavior while staying with the Hadzabe is indistiguishable to me from the behavior of Western explorers for centuries: enjoy what the native culture has to offer to the fullest, but offer little (alcohol, crayons, and paints in this case) in return. Written passably, but not strikingly, well, excellently illustrated with photos and drawings, the book still satisfies anyone that wishes to glimpse a usually hidden corner of the African continent.

Rating:
Summary: Jemsi's Arrow Misses the Mark
Review: James Stephenson's (known as Jemsi to the Hadzabe) book cannot be called unique, but certainly deserves the title of unusual. In the tradition of Kabloona, a white man blends moves in with a tribe, eats what they eat, dances what they dance, sings what they sing. Unless it is raining and uncomfortable, then he goes to Zanzibar for a sex and drug odyssey until the weather where the Hadzabe live improves a bit.

Without a doubt Jemsi has achieved a deeper knowledge of the Hadzabe than any other American. While Jemsi absorbed first hand knowledge of their songs, rituals, and sacred places, he exchanged with them confabulatory tales of America, a place inhabited with bears that fly and have sex with humans. Explaining that he felt that he should imitate the "tall tale" method of story telling used by the Hadzabe, his gift for the knowledge that was given freely to him by the tribe was a few goats, some cornmeal, a few good drinking bouts on the house, and what some might call outright lies about Jemsi's own American culture.

Noting the devastating effect that alcohol was having on the Hadzabe, Jemsi's response was to freely participate in the drinking binges, even supplying the cash that made the binges possible on some occasions. Put into an American context, it would be interesting to see how the enthusiastic reviewers of this book would feel about a European that came to America to have an "experience", moved in with an Indian tribe, slept with their women without regard to possible offspring, and actively abetted the alcoholism that so devastates some Native American tribes.

Bottom line? A fabulous tale is marred by the narcissism of the author. Stephenson's behavior while staying with the Hadzabe is indistiguishable to me from the behavior of Western explorers for centuries: enjoy what the native culture has to offer to the fullest, but offer little (alcohol, crayons, and paints in this case) in return. Written passably, but not strikingly, well, excellently illustrated with photos and drawings, the book still satisfies anyone that wishes to glimpse a usually hidden corner of the African continent.

Rating:
Summary: Raises as many questions as it answers.
Review: Stephenson's memoir about the Hadzabe in Tanzania, one of the last tribes of hunter-gatherers, is fascinating, though not always in ways the author probably intended. As much about the 27-year-old author and the casual romanticism with which he plunges into life in another culture as it is about the death throes of a Stone Age tribe being overtaken by "progress," the author announces at the outset that this is "a journey greater than [him]self, a journey that has chosen [him]."

Propelled initially by visions and fever dreams, New Yorker Stephenson, called "Jemsi" by the Hadzabe, participates in all phases of their lives--the hunting and gathering, the long, thirsty treks in the bush, the seemingly endless drinking of intoxicating pombe, the meals of everything from monkey brains to baboon marrow, and dangerous, unprotected sex with camp followers, who believe that baboon oil will protect them from AIDS.

The reader cannot help but admire the gusto with which the author approaches this life, his genuine fear that this culture will soon die completely, and his reverence for their beliefs, their connection to the land, and their ancestors. But it's impossible also not to wonder about the authenticity of his observations when he is so often paying to accompany the Hadzabe in the bush, when it is his flashlight the Hadzabe sometimes use to blind the small antelope they kill and eat, and when so much of his knowledge seems to come from visions or in dreams.

And he can always escape. During an uncomfortable time of heavy rains, he takes a vacation, flying to Zanzibar, where, he says, the "energy of the stars, the earth, the trees, the animals...all seemed to channel through me...I was creatively on fire and sexually out of control...The ancient man inside me had awakened and was struggling violently with the modern man," which sounds like a creative way of saying, "The devil made me do it."

Stating in his preface that he "came to understand the importance of exaggeration...to create a more universal truth for the listening party," the author conveys his excitement in a skillful narrative, which often includes striking imagery: of elderly people entering the camp "like slow wakes in still water," and of walking "through the oracles of singing red birds." His visions, dreams, and psychic premonitions, however, may cause the reader to pause, wondering if they are part of the exaggeration he finds so important here. And there is unintended irony, with Nubea, an old Hadzabe, mournfully asking, "Why are the forests eaten by the corn and bean?" [p. 176] , while the author, just a few pages later [p. 185], admires the life of a friend in Zanzibar, stating, "One could definitely envy the family's way of life. They 'lived' life on a farm..." In this fascinating story about a modern young man's attempts to share an endangered life style, Stephenson raises as many questions as he answers. Mary Whiipple

Rating:
Summary: Raises as many questions as it answers.
Review: Stephenson's memoir about the Hadzabe in Tanzania, one of the last tribes of hunter-gatherers, is fascinating, though not always in ways the author probably intended. As much about the 27-year-old author and the casual romanticism with which he plunges into life in another culture as it is about the death throes of a Stone Age tribe being overtaken by "progress," the author announces at the outset that this is "a journey greater than [him]self, a journey that has chosen [him]."

Propelled initially by visions and fever dreams, New Yorker Stephenson, called "Jemsi" by the Hadzabe, participates in all phases of their lives--the hunting and gathering, the long, thirsty treks in the bush, the seemingly endless drinking of intoxicating pombe, the meals of everything from monkey brains to baboon marrow, and dangerous, unprotected sex with camp followers, who believe that baboon oil will protect them from AIDS.

The reader cannot help but admire the gusto with which the author approaches this life, his genuine fear that this culture will soon die completely, and his reverence for their beliefs, their connection to the land, and their ancestors. But it's impossible also not to wonder about the authenticity of his observations when he is so often paying to accompany the Hadzabe in the bush, when it is his flashlight the Hadzabe sometimes use to blind the small antelope they kill and eat, and when so much of his knowledge seems to come from visions or in dreams.

And he can always escape. During an uncomfortable time of heavy rains, he takes a vacation, flying to Zanzibar, where, he says, the "energy of the stars, the earth, the trees, the animals...all seemed to channel through me...I was creatively on fire and sexually out of control...The ancient man inside me had awakened and was struggling violently with the modern man," which sounds like a creative way of saying, "The devil made me do it."

Stating in his preface that he "came to understand the importance of exaggeration...to create a more universal truth for the listening party," the author conveys his excitement in a skillful narrative, which often includes striking imagery: of elderly people entering the camp "like slow wakes in still water," and of walking "through the oracles of singing red birds." His visions, dreams, and psychic premonitions, however, may cause the reader to pause, wondering if they are part of the exaggeration he finds so important here. And there is unintended irony, with Nubea, an old Hadzabe, mournfully asking, "Why are the forests eaten by the corn and bean?" [p. 176] , while the author, just a few pages later [p. 185], admires the life of a friend in Zanzibar, stating, "One could definitely envy the family's way of life. They 'lived' life on a farm..." In this fascinating story about a modern young man's attempts to share an endangered life style, Stephenson raises as many questions as he answers.

Rating:
Summary: Africas close up
Review: Stephenson, a 27 year old landscaper from New York, spends 9 months with the Hadzabe tribe south of the Serengeti.. He describes this experience in a very honest way, and so we learn about these hunters in the bush: their dreams, their spirits, their hunting, their daily life and their families. It is a well rounded picture. He loves these gentle people and finds peace and quiet with them. But he admits that he never learned their language and, of course, he always has his return ticket to New York.

To call this adventure a retrogression in time towards stone age people would be quite wrong. The Hadzabe are well connected to civilization. They drive by car to the local hospital. They steal radios. They sell their hunting trophies for money, go to the village bar and get stoned on pombe. They wear western clothes and hunt at night with a flashlight. But they prefer their life in the bush, and that is the difference.

The book has many pictures and drawings. It is a nice adventure story.

Rating:
Summary: delight for armchair travelers
Review: Surely one of the greatest pleasures of reading is that a book can take us to places where we will never go. James Stephenson has done that, bringing to life in these pages the feel, the taste even the emotions of the Hadzebe. This is not anthropology, it is life as he experienced it. We can be grateful that he has shared the experience.

Rating:
Summary: delight for armchair travelers
Review: Surely one of the greatest pleasures of reading is that a book can take us to places where we will never go. James Stephenson has done that, bringing to life in these pages the feel, the taste even the emotions of the Hadzebe. This is not anthropology, it is life as he experienced it. We can be grateful that he has shared the experience.

Rating:
Summary: MORE ADVENTURES PLEASE!
Review: This guy rocks! I felt has though I was with him every step of the way. What a whimsical, wonderful, spiritual read. It's like going for a rollercoaster ride--your up, your down and never want to get off. Very Cool! I highly recommend this for all you adventurous souls. Great insight into the real Africa, not the Hollywood version! We want more James Stephenson.