They are stories written by the pen of Mia Couto, already published in a newspaper, covering the post-war of Mozambique. The fantasy begins
What fascinates me in the African writers is their poignant imagination, anything is possible, literally. Trees that swallow people, talking animals, spirits that haunt the living, ghosts that materialize in different shapes, there is no impossible. The limit of the imagination does not exist. Mia Couto fits into this category. A day dreamers who heard these enchanted stories in his childhood, or rather amazed. They are tales that brings us to another world. Africa, the continent that the writer loves and who never gests tires of describing, as if it didn't exists, as it were a fantasy. He describes dreams with ambiguous characters; some more than others, that bring us to parallel realities, like a kaleidoscope full of colors and unexpected patterns. Language is his assistant in this collective memory, full of words, fluffy ones, strange sounds that to ears accustomed to the Portuguese seem magical. The intention is that. Transporting the reader to his universe very distant, but yet so near. It seems, but it is not. These are stories that want to pretend truth, as the author writes. It is the reader to decide whether to stick to the end. I hope you read it. Happy reading!
