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8 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Africa awaits you..., September 9, 2000
James Stephenson combines an extarodinary adventure with a poetic sensibility in this work that is rare indeed. Interested readers will find _The Language of the Land_ a window to a world as old and as sacred as human memory itself, simultaneously intimate and expansive. I found myself laughing at the exploits of James and the hunters Mustaffa and Sabina and others in their wild celebrations after the hunts, short of breath on the safaris where they passed within feet of lions and warned them off with medicine, and completely caught up in the intricate, tattered tapestry of Africa Mr. Stephenson reveals here. This book is beautifully produced, and Mr. Stephenson's narrative is combined with photographs of the African bush outsiders will never, one hopes, actually ever see. It also combines what surely must be the first ever collaborative art between a Westerner and the Hadzabe, several works of which are included in a stunning portfolio of color plates at the end of the book. If you have an interest in human history, Africa and its peoples, strong poetic prose, or a story which is piercingly important at this point in our world, then you need to get this book, read and experience it, and then pass it on to your children.
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5 of 5 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Do you dream of Africa?, February 6, 2001
I owe James Stephenson a mighty big thank you. He gave me an all-expenses paid trip to Africa, and he's willing to give you one, too. No, he's not chartering planes for random winners of some unknown sweepstake. In this sometimes landscape artist, sometimes explorer's wonderful book, The Language of the Land: Living Among the Hadzabe in Africa, he shares the experiences of his life for nearly a year when he plunged into the jungle of East Africa and lived among the Hadzabe. Often mystical, Stephenson's adventure stems from joining with these hunters as they live, sharing in their ceremonies, following their rules. The Language of the Land burgeons with fascinating photos. I finished the book feeling like I knew the people and the land, not only because of the tale that kept me from putting the book down until I finished it, but also because of the pictures that I studied, mesmerized. As an unexpected bonus, a portfolio of paintings by Stephenson and the Hadzabe awaits the reader in the back of the book. I received The Language of the Land as a gift from a thoughtful friend who knows that I am anxious for the day when I can visit Africa to smell the air there and learn about the world that I imagine to be so different from my own. This book both teased me, increasing my desire to see Africa, and appeased me, satisfying, if only temporarily, my longing for adventure.
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10 of 12 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Jemsi's Arrow Misses the Mark, April 8, 2001
James Stephenson's (known as Jemsi to the Hadzabe) book cannot be called unique, but certainly deserves the title of unusual. In the tradition of Kabloona, a white man blends moves in with a tribe, eats what they eat, dances what they dance, sings what they sing. Unless it is raining and uncomfortable, then he goes to Zanzibar for a sex and drug odyssey until the weather where the Hadzabe live improves a bit. Without a doubt Jemsi has achieved a deeper knowledge of the Hadzabe than any other American. While Jemsi absorbed first hand knowledge of their songs, rituals, and sacred places, he exchanged with them confabulatory tales of America, a place inhabited with bears that fly and have sex with humans. Explaining that he felt that he should imitate the "tall tale" method of story telling used by the Hadzabe, his gift for the knowledge that was given freely to him by the tribe was a few goats, some cornmeal, a few good drinking bouts on the house, and what some might call outright lies about Jemsi's own American culture. Noting the devastating effect that alcohol was having on the Hadzabe, Jemsi's response was to freely participate in the drinking binges, even supplying the cash that made the binges possible on some occasions. Put into an American context, it would be interesting to see how the enthusiastic reviewers of this book would feel about a European that came to America to have an "experience", moved in with an Indian tribe, slept with their women without regard to possible offspring, and actively abetted the alcoholism that so devastates some Native American tribes. Bottom line? A fabulous tale is marred by the narcissism of the author. Stephenson's behavior while staying with the Hadzabe is indistiguishable to me from the behavior of Western explorers for centuries: enjoy what the native culture has to offer to the fullest, but offer little (alcohol, crayons, and paints in this case) in return. Written passably, but not strikingly, well, excellently illustrated with photos and drawings, the book still satisfies anyone that wishes to glimpse a usually hidden corner of the African continent.
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