Books in Brief: The Grass Rain

The Grass Rain: A Tale of Modern Africa, by Eduardo Garrigues (Macmillan, 288 pp., $16.95)

Kenya, famous for its teeming wildlife, grandiose scenery, distinctive tribes, and often eccentric ex-colonials, is only marginally less so for several unsolved murders. The violent death in 1941 of Lord Erroll has recently been dissected in James Fox’s White Mischief; now, in The Grass Rain, novelist Eduardo Garrigues attempts to make sense of a far more delicate incident—the murder, in 1975, of J. M. Kariuki, a Kenyan MP whose ambitions were said to be at odds with those of President Jomo Kenyatta. Whether or not the author is correct in his analysis of the murder is for the reader to decide, but one might surmise that Mr. Garrigues had access to privileged information, since at the time of Kariuki’s murder he was posted to Nairobi as a diplomat. Today he is Spain’s Director General for Africa, and one might wonder why he would dare risk his influence in black Africa by exhuming such an embarrassment. But he protects himself by changing the spelling of a few names, bouillabaissing an assortment of facts, and airbrushing the most telling details. Mr. Garrigues is a discreet man, careful not to incriminate those who count while making sure that anyone politically important in Kenya at the time appears in a cameo role. The novel is compelling reading, not merely for its tantalizing account of the murder but for its revelations about diplomacy, politics, and espionage in an African nation. Mr. Garrigues is amused by the anomalies of post-colonial Africa. He makes much of a character he calls Judge McGredy, the carbon copy of a fierce proponent of capital punishment once nicknamed “Bwana Maximum.” Why would a black regime cling to such a figurehead of white justice while, with the other hand, it is flouting whole principles of law? Why does black Kenya hold enormous appeal for white remittance men, reprobates, and fortune hunters? Mr. Garrigues’s explanations are very credible. If the reader is not already smitten by this seductive land, then he will surely succumb through the novel’s descriptions—the Norfolk Hotel verandah, the savage Galana Ranch, the grand-scale Kenyan dinner parties, the lushness of the tropical coast. Mr. Garrigues’s descriptions are nearly photographic. Even sex in Kenya seems to have its own distinctive allure. The result is a taut mystery that is faithful to the reality of an important Third World nation in a pivotal time. One might be permitted a few complaints: The author never quite allows his hero, Bob Fender, to do much more than bump into the very engaging situations in the plot. Some of the early scenes are slightly contrived, and the heavy focus on hunting seems, after a while, extraneous. But these faults, in the larger context, are seen as mere details. Eduardo Garrigues has written a splendid thriller, capturing the spirit of a bountiful but reckless nation. What is more, he has done what I always believed impossible for a diplomat: He has convinced me he is not mincing his words.

JH

About the Author

John Heminway

Featured Tags

The Grass Rain: A Tale of Modern Africa, by Eduardo Garrigues (Macmillan, 288 pp., $16.95)

Kenya, famous for its teeming wildlife, grandiose scenery, distinctive tribes, and often eccentric ex-colonials, is only marginally less so for several unsolved murders. The violent death in 1941 of Lord Erroll has recently been dissected in James Fox’s White Mischief; now, in The Grass Rain, novelist Eduardo Garrigues attempts to make sense of a far more delicate incident—the murder, in 1975, of J. M. Kariuki, a Kenyan MP whose ambitions were said to be at odds with those of President Jomo Kenyatta. Whether or not the author is correct in his analysis of the murder is for the reader to decide, but one might surmise that Mr. Garrigues had access to privileged information, since at the time of Kariuki’s murder he was posted to Nairobi as a diplomat. Today he is Spain’s Director General for Africa, and one might wonder why he would dare risk his influence in black Africa by exhuming such an embarrassment. But he protects himself by changing the spelling of a few names, bouillabaissing an assortment of facts, and airbrushing the most telling details. Mr. Garrigues is a discreet man, careful not to incriminate those who count while making sure that anyone politically important in Kenya at the time appears in a cameo role. The novel is compelling reading, not merely for its tantalizing account of the murder but for its revelations about diplomacy, politics, and espionage in an African nation. Mr. Garrigues is amused by the anomalies of post-colonial Africa. He makes much of a character he calls Judge McGredy, the carbon copy of a fierce proponent of capital punishment once nicknamed “Bwana Maximum.” Why would a black regime cling to such a figurehead of white justice while, with the other hand, it is flouting whole principles of law? Why does black Kenya hold enormous appeal for white remittance men, reprobates, and fortune hunters? Mr. Garrigues’s explanations are very credible. If the reader is not already smitten by this seductive land, then he will surely succumb through the novel’s descriptions—the Norfolk Hotel verandah, the savage Galana Ranch, the grand-scale Kenyan dinner parties, the lushness of the tropical coast. Mr. Garrigues’s descriptions are nearly photographic. Even sex in Kenya seems to have its own distinctive allure. The result is a taut mystery that is faithful to the reality of an important Third World nation in a pivotal time. One might be permitted a few complaints: The author never quite allows his hero, Bob Fender, to do much more than bump into the very engaging situations in the plot. Some of the early scenes are slightly contrived, and the heavy focus on hunting seems, after a while, extraneous. But these faults, in the larger context, are seen as mere details. Eduardo Garrigues has written a splendid thriller, capturing the spirit of a bountiful but reckless nation. What is more, he has done what I always believed impossible for a diplomat: He has convinced me he is not mincing his words.