to portray the Rwandan genocide as a historical event. One question that the novel raises is how effective fiction can be at portraying tragic events. It may be argued that the reality of the massacre can be best described in concrete facts or statistics. Also, as Catherine Kroll ponders, “why produce fictionalizations of Rwanda’s genocide, especially as the country, like most of Africa, has already been distorted by a Western master narrative to the point of near existential erasure?” However, one cannot truly understand the depth of a situation without contemplating how the historical event affected people who experienced it. Often the voices of the victims of a tragedy are skewed or ignored in the factual portrayal of history. In fiction, however, especially in Diop’s novel, the multitude of characters with differing experiences combats this issue. Voices of the victims, leaders, and spectators of the Rwandan genocide are all weaved together in Murambi, The Book of Bones to form an emotional experience for the readers to give an understanding of the tragedy that historical facts alone could not. One character essential to the portrayal of the Rwandan genocide is Cornelius Uvimana. Cornelius was a Rwandan exile who journeys to find the truth and confront the tragedy of the Rwandan genocide. Cornelius struggles with his identity and how he fits into a role of the genocide as his father, Dr. Karekezi, is a Hutu leader responsible for the murder of thousands of Tutsis. Cornelius also grew up with strong influences from his uncle Siméon, a Tutsi victim of the genocide. Growing up under these two paternal figures, Diop makes it clear that Cornelius is “the ‘son’ of post-genocide Rwanda: the heir of a country faced with an impossible reconciliation.” Cornelius also symbolizes the readers and their perception of the genocide. For many, this novel may serve as an introduction to the Rwandan genocide and allow their navigation of the complex events. Cornelius represents the world community in that they must accept their complicity of the tragedies that occurred, and being an exile that was raised in Rwanda creates a situation in which Cornelius and the readers may attempt to make sense of the genocide and search for answers. Cornelius’s uncle Siméon assists him in his search for the truth about the events that occurred. Siméon constantly analyzes Dr. Karekezi’s actions to make sense of the situation. He ponders, “Joseph, who was so intelligent, was he also completely insane? He succeeded in tricking everyone. Nobody suspected a thing. In Murambi, the dying called on him for help" (p. 154). hnic School. Simeon ponders the horror of his brother's acts with incredulity, but he never gives up trying to analyze them. " Then Simeon goes much further, trying to uncover the social and psychological roots of such insanity. "Even during the best years, Joseph couldn't stand to see his enemies much wealthier than him. He looked down on them, knowing that in their eyes he was nothing, just a poor devil with impressive diplomas. He suffered a lot because of that" (p. 155). Simeon traces the deep historical roots of his psychological analysis: the colonial exacerbation of Hutu and Tutsi social and economic differences and its deep grounding in a politically fostered disdain by the privileged, and a reciprocal hatred by the disdained. The seeds of distrust and hatred among neighbors, friends, and even within families, lay dormant for the most part, but they increasingly sprouted their awful fruit after the 1959 Hutu revolution. "When your father decided to become a powerful man, he knew that he would have blood on his hands. Since President Kayibanda's time, people were always killing Tutsis and then going home to play with their children. Tens dead. Hundreds dead. Thousands dead. They couldn't be bothered to count any more. Little by little it bec Diop also portrays the nature of tragedy through the separation of the novel into fragments. The stories of each of the nine characters with different settings are alternated within the four different sections of the novel. Cornelius’s story is also separated into the second and fourth parts. Many trauma theorists say that trauma is also fragmented. In states of terror, the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain that is used for complex behaviors, rational thought, personality development, and inhibiting impulses, is impaired by stress chemicals. When one experiences a traumatic event, other parts of the brain control where attention is focused, which is kept within memory rather than the traumatic event itself. The separation of characters and the limited information provided through alternating perspectives replicates the clouded memories associated with trauma. Diop emphasizes this disjointedness quite literally by describing the genocide and how bodies were mutilated. He writes. “ Through this fragmentation, the reader may feel empathy and connect to each individual narrative, which helps Diop challenge the reader to recognize the horror of the genocide on a personal level. Diop also highlights and criticizes the world’s ignorance of the genocide.
Africa has continuously been ignored, and many countries attribute any problems to deep-rooted tribal conflicts. Belgian colonial government in Rwanda, for example, took advantage of stereotypical physical features that separated the Hutu and the Tutsi to distinguish and separate the two groups despite their distinct congruities in culture. The attitude of much of the world during the genocide can be summarized by French President François Mitterrand’s statement in May 1994: “In such countries, genocide is not too important.” Western countries refused to aid Rwanda and continued to ignore the genocide as it happened. United States President Bill Clinton also defended his stance on not aiding Rwanda by saying that that it was a “tribal” conflict. The novel opens with Michel Serummundo saying that the world is unaware or disinterested in the genocide. Readers are forced to face their ignorance as Michel says, “The World Cup was about to start in the United States. The planet was interested in nothing else. And in any case, whatever happened in Rwanda, it would always be the same old story of blacks beating up on each other. Even Africans would say, during half-time of every match, ‘They’re embarrassing us, they should stop killing each other like that.’ Then they’ll go on to something else… What I’m saying is not a reproach. I’ve seen lots of scenes on television myself that were hard to take… I suffered from these things without really feeling involved. I didn’t realize that if the victims shouted loud enough, it was so I would hear them, myself and thousands of other people on earth, and so we would try to do everything we could so that their suffering would end. It always happened so far away, in countries on the other side of the world. But in these early days of April in 1994, the country on the other side of the world is mine.” After telling his wife that the world is watching and the
Hutus will not be able to get away with their actions, he admits in this section that he had been like “the other side of the world” that chose to focus their attention somewhere else, but it is impossible to ignore when the tragedy surrounds you and affects you daily.