I Dreamed Of Africa
Perhaps, most of the travelogues one come across in the print media are no more than arm chair writing?the author resorts to available information from various sources and cooks up a concoction of fake experiences. So the author gives free reign to his or her imagination and there evolves a well chiseled piece. The poor reader may aghast at the varied experiences the writer tells for there may be anecdotes of places and people that may defy reality.
But there is a vanishing species in creativity, yes the writers with the steak of originality. I want you to take perusal tripe to Kuki Gallmann?s ?I Dreamed of Africa?, telltale ones about the adventurous stint that the author had in the inaccessible abode called Africa.
As a child Kuki dreamed of Africa, without ever thinking of it might come to true one day. Born near Venice, Italy she grew up listening to her father?s bedtime tales of the Sahara. With Paolo, her soon-to-be-husband,she explores the dingy Savnnahs and rich wild of the land and felt being part of it. The book tells you the wild beauty of Africa with its unpredictable potential to surprise and invokes sense of home coming as life here is pulsating at a most natural pace. Your entire inner universe may be permuted with the sight how people there struggle to harness primordial energy of Nature. Man is pitted against odds, the black skinned humans experience life every moment as they can?t be oblivious even for a fraction of time: reason, death may star at them for instance as a poisonous snake or a voracious wild animal. Kuki explores breaking all bounds and finally Africa yields to her invincible sprit for adventure. The work with its lush prose is must read
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- ''the Year Of Magical Thinking''