Gerald Felix Tchicaya U Tam'si (Gerald Felix Tchicaya). Republic of Congo (1931-1988).

U Tam'si was born in Mpili (Congo Brazzaville), but moved to France in 1946. He died in Oise, France in 1988. Like David Diop, U Tam'si's poetry is colloquial and spoken. Though informal, his work is sophisticated, mocking, and rife with dark humor. He juxtaposes vivid historic images and symbolic, even surrealist, renderings of reality, producing a powerful commentary on not only African life, but the human condition. His forays into the meaning of "black-ness" contribute to Senghor's "negritude, " providing valuable insights into race and significance. A journalist, activist, and strong supporter of Lumumba, U Tam'si was a vital member of the Congolese independence movement. As such, his work reflects a harsh view of the world, but a reverence for new beginnings.

Surrealist Influence

Forest, Part III (of V)

- Where are the flowers that smell
of the warm flesh under the armpits?
- In paradise on the victim's burial mound
Those that as a child I lapped
closed my burning eyes
the sun itself on my cropped head
through it was all red lead
ah! I still danced though I had no woman
hilarious toads and astounding pythons
as if my dead returned through them

Symbolism

The Belly, Lines 35-42

Slobber within the masks will serve better for this carnival
than grinning on a thousand different notes
But since I have only one face
Over that alone shall I pass my hand.
The flat horizon of this country splits my heart
If I recoil everything bristles suddenly!
I will stay at the gate with the wind in my side
but with tornadoes in my belly

The Dead, Lines 7-12

That woman who swoons at every kiss

the moon watches her, a dog bays, sucks her breast
This gout of milk which gushes from her breast
ah! it is already the seed from which the dawn takes flesh
slackly upon the road
where walks the traveler teller of good tales

Love

Legs, Lines 5-10

A hesitant love
pours nothing over our labours
but an icy shower of gold
gnawing away
the last warm sigh
anonymously

Viaticum, Lines 154-162

Am I quite sure that backbone was mine
And then who was that woman I loved
She had the blue scent of burnt grasses
on the savannah at pitch of noon
at noon when the cicada sings
in the shadow of some murdered shade
a woman with arms blackened by the sun
a woman with empty cradled arms that rocked me
poisoned my soul to love no one but her

[ Home ] [ Up ]

Contact danrebo@ufl.edu with questions or comments about this web site.
© Copyright 1995-2005. Dan Reboussin, Africana Collection, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida . Last modified: July 22, 2004 . All hyperlinks verified as of May 28, 2004.