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Quote by Maaza Mengiste

“Standing on deck, feeling the weight of his camera in his hand, Ettore realizes again that he has spent all his years since he was a child trying to capture what cannot be spoken, to manifest visually a world both trapped in darkness and defined by it.”

Quote by Maaza Mengiste

Work

The Shadow King

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Author

Maaza Mengiste
Maaza Mengiste

Maaza Mengiste is an Ethiopian-born American writer whose works delve into the complexities of the African continent. Born in 1971, she has authored novels and short stories that examine historical and contemporary issues, often focusing on the experiences of women in Ethiopia. Her writing is noted for its rich narrative style and deep engagement with the cultural and political landscape of her native country. more

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“Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me here in hideous darkness. Feste: Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: sayest thou that house is dark? Malvolio: As hell, Sir Topas. Feste: Why it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clearstores toward the south north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction?”

“Death shall reign bliss over the abyss to those who fear the end. All those who are dying will travel only once through the desolate. Dim it will be for the souls in gray, not ready to evanesce from this world. Grief will cling to ice, limbs will stiffen as timber, voices will go unheard through a death rattle, and our minds will turn into eternal shadow. All of the love you carry will stand on a thread of pinhole conviction. Your lifeless body will be entombed in your graveyard of disbelief. A path to an empty conscience is the only one that leads to naught. In the spiritual dimension after demise, we are the paradise lost that has disappeared.”

“They agree only on the point that the most important aspect is reason. For one entire evening they play around with the metaphor of the light of reason that illuminates everything equally and dispassionately. Gertruda remarks immediately and intelligently that wherever something’s brightly lit, there is also a shadow, a darkening. The more powerful the light, the deeper, the more intense the shadow. That’s true, that’s a little bit disturbing; they stop talking for a while.”

“As grief ripples through the river of soul where white lilies sleep, it finds its lyrics for the deeps are lit and unknowingly escapes the sadness through the flute for the soul is in wonder at the song it weaves.... You who once curled on the rusty bed in quiet, now find the caress that gently sways you inside, and grief o' grief shuffles the layers of your deeps. Darkness is thick no more for the lonesome moments turn to dawn and the glimmer of light is disguised no more....”