Take a woman from America. Place her in Africa as part of a team delivering books to African villages that have none. Give her a surly manager, a college-educated villager, a little girl who dreams of things beyond her small village, a little boy who refuses to return his books, and a village culture battling against the advent of the knowledge the books bring; and you have a wonderful story that leads you forward from page to page.
While this story is not a thriller with gratuitous violence and carnivorous - or even 'fluffy' romantic sex - or, in other words, it has not of the titular elements some books employ to excite a reading audience - it has the drama of the unanswerable question: progress versus tradition. Where does the one stop and the other one begin?
While this story is not a thriller with gratuitous violence and carnivorous - or even 'fluffy' romantic sex - or, in other words, it has not of the titular elements some books employ to excite a reading audience - it has the drama of the unanswerable question: progress versus tradition. Where does the one stop and the other one begin?
What is the answer? Allow the books to continue, bringing the new knowledge teaching the villagers new ways; or prohibit any further visits that intrude upon the culture that has maintained the village for so many years? The ending Masha Hamilton offers is one of the most satisfying I have ever found.
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