GauZ’ is a short-form of his tribal name, Gauzorro, bestowed on him by his grandmother. She’s the person who got him thinking: “thinking about Africanness, thinking about the stories we tell and how we tell them, and thinking about [his] relationship with language and through language with the people around [him].”

That’s a lot to think about, so you might be surprised to learn that this Ivorian author’s debut is under 200 pages. Perhaps surprised, also, to hear that Standing Heavy (in translation by Frank Wynne) reads quickly, even though it’s rich and complex. I’d intended to read just a couple of chapters, but I spent a snowy afternoon reading the whole book until it was finished, while outside the window darkness fell.

Partly it’s compelling because the style is vivid, the dialogue taut, and the presentation is clever. After giving up a scholarship to France, GauZ’ travelled around Côte d’Ivoire for three years, honing the skill of observing people, with a camera given to him by his father when GauZ’ was twelve (readers can see this in his characterisation). And eventually he did go to school in France, and he worked as a security guard briefly there (and again, later, when he ultimately returned home, too) which created the opportunity for more observation.

That’s where Standing Heavy begins, with a scene pulled from the author’s experience of applying for that job. He says: “I found it so surreal and funny, I said to myself, I’ve got to write this down, one day I’m going to put it all in a film.” His notes for this book were scribbled on anything at hand: garment-tags, receipt-paper, whatever.

So the story is about three security guards, from three generations, but “ultimately it’s a woman’s story” GauZ’ says. (All this information is from an interview his publisher conducted with him.) And it really does seem like the perfect job for a writer-in-training: “I was able to look without being seen.”

The men’s lives are often difficult, but the situations they observe are often funny. GauZ’ values humour, values its potential to bring people together and to cultivate understanding. His view of the position, however, is thoughtful and serious. “That’s when you realize that you’re just another accessory. You’re being paid to be a consumer accessory.”

Between the detailed and imaginative scenes, there are extended segments that situate the characters in a broader context; here, beyond the day-to-day of an individual’s life, readers have a more sweeping perspective on history and events that impact the present-day. (GauZ’ views these as excerpts from an archaeologist’s field notebooks: he titles each one for an age—gold, bronze, and lead.)

These feel satisfying because, throughout the novel, the author is attending to pacing; he’s recognising not only the characters’ sense of time (their days often begin before dawn and extend after dark), but also the readers’ sense of time (it’s clear that he wants people to be engaged with the story and his experience as a screenwriter shows).

But what makes it doubly satisfying is how much thought the author has given to his story and to the way he’s telling it. He’s contemplated his role in the landscape of African literature from a theoretical perspective and he seems to be constantly engaged with the work of other writers and thinkers too. (There are lengthy discussions in the interview, best enjoyed after you’ve read the book.)

There are many clever bits worth quoting, but it’s a delight to come across them in the story. Instead, here are a few lines that give a sense of the humour and the incisive thoughts on consumption and bargain-shopping.

The Hades jacket is 100% pigskin leather. Is such a jacket off-limits to Muslims and Jews?
The Grand Mufti: “Hades—this jacket is Haram.”
The Chief Rabbi: “Hades—this jacket is not Kosher.”
The Great Sales Assistant: “Hades –this 100% pigskin leather jacket, was €99.95, is now 70% off—succumb to temptation.”

Earlier this month, Frank Wynne won the 2023 Scott Moncrieff Prize for Translation for Standing Heavy, and here are judge Jane MacKenzie’s comments:

“The writing is searingly witty, incisive, full of vivid imagery, and has been superbly translated by Frank Wynne, losing none of the humour, the energy, the authentic street view. This is a true tour-de-force in both languages, and reads as joyfully and sharply in English as it does in French.”

It’s outstanding. (Published by Biblioasis in North America and by MacLehose Press in the UK.) I hope its success brings his other fiction into English translation (Comrade Papa, winner of the Prix Éthiophile for 2019, and Black Manoo) because I certainly want to read more.

Thanks to Kaggsy and Lizzy for hosting the fourth Read Indies event!