by Amanya Maloba
Amanya was a guest on Roz Morris's Undercover Soundtrack blog and I liked what she said about her book of short-short stories. I don't read much flash fiction - so much of it reads like cryptic jokes you might find in up-market Christmas crackers, or like prompts for a creative writing class. But the best Flash Fiction reads like prose poetry, which I do have a taste for.
I also fell in love with the cover of Harvest, the contrasting colours and the image - covers are very important for me - they have to attract and I often buy a book for its cover. In this case, the cover didn't lie.
Amanya's stories centre around food and appetite and they have quite a bite! 'We are what we eat' and so much of our lives revolves round food and its rituals. The stories are written in lyrical prose (the author is also a poet), sometimes with an edge, sharp observation and memorable lines. "The sizzle of beignets frying in the back of the outdoor cafe has more timbre and raw emotion than any note to come out of Christopher Breaux's larynx. The shake of powder sugar over the nearly square pillows of dough is sweeter than any kiss wrapped in foil or on lips." [Beignets and Trumpets]
Coffee becomes a series of associations and character changes. "A cup of coffee, skidding tires of an airbus, and the frigid temperatures of a window seat, shift me into someone I don't know, someone fragile, someone that terrifies and kills me, exposing me to all my possible selves and all of yours. . . . What does the coffee in Tokyo taste like? Bali? Accra? And why doesn't the coffee I brew in my place, whereever it is, always taste like shit, flat and fundamentally lacking?"
Amanya is an American whose family originally came from Kenya, but she has also lived in Europe - these stories have a global reach and are full of colour, with characters like Mango, Persimmon and Lime and titles like 'Pancakes at the 2893 World's Fair', 'The Watermelon Man', 'Habanero Lips', 'Cookie Woman', and 'George Washington's Black-Eyed Peas'. One of my favourite stories concerns the Avocado Whisperer. 'I squish and mash them into bowls of black beans, onions, and corn, throw the whole lot in tortillas for the kind of meal that sits at the bottom of your stomach like the coked-out kids on the Red Line at four a.m... I'm an avocado racehorse - a thoroughbred sure bet. . . nothing short of what God binged on when She got the munchies on the seventh day'.
I loved 'Termites' - the story of a childhood visit to Nairobi to visit relatives, but one story in particular continued to haunt me. 'Dinner is served (Karibu)', which is narrated by the animal on the plate. 'I am consumable. I do not belong to myself. I am designed solely for your gratification. You can stuff your greedy minds with my words and lick my tears off your dry hands . . . I exist only for your gluttonous pleasure. . . I will kill you with every bite you take, but you will continue to eat because I am the finest cuisine you've ever had. I will be your last meal. Dinner is served.'
If you like to try something different, then Harvest is definitely one to read.
You can find out more about Amanya Maloba at www.amanyamaloba.com