112: Guma
12/31/2016
I’ve been an absent and neglectful father to my Batu work in recent months. My change of environment and lifestyle here in Connel are not at all conducive to creative work at the level I require for my writing.
I have, of course, been thinking about my work daily. Specifically, lately I’ve been contemplating the notion of letting the reader in on the reality (or lack thereof) of Guma’s existence from the very beginning, instead of this elaborate process of deception I’ve been employing thus fare.
I have two primary reasons for considering this:
Such a prolonged and contrived gimmick is a bit too cheeky, insultingly manipulative of the reader, and even a bit too much of a cliché. The Twilight Zone punchline is too cutesy for an epic saga spanning so many years and books in the series.
I think there may be much more for the reader to enjoy if they’re in on the gag and are able to see even on the first reading how it’s pulled off. After all, it is a source of fascination for me (who knows all the secrets) to see how the concept is managed and to what ends. It is as source of great intrigue for me as I write that is totally absent for the oblivious reader. I am purposely misleading for a long-term shock value payoff WAY down the road. It could possibly enhance the first-time reader’s experience exponentially by letting them be aware of the mystery of Guma from the very first chapter Where Diallo meets him. The food for thought this would bring to even the initial reader could very well elevate its quality to a whole new level.
Considering this possibility for future rewrites of the first books has led me to think more consciously about Guma’s symbolic meaning, and his functions as a driving force for the plot. Guma does not exist within the objective reality of my main narrative, only within the bounds of Diallo-Mogai’s perceptions. Thus, he only appears in chapters written from Diallo-Mogai’s point of view.
Within the backstory Guma did in fact exist, but he died before Diallo ever met him. He was indeed considered the Fa Hawara from the prophecy of Mugasha. But he died as a child shortly before my main narrative begins, eaten alive by a swarm of ants. His death and removal as a candidate for the Fa Hawara prophecy created an internal controversy concerning the interpretation of the prophecy as to whether the Fa Hawara could be female or not. This, of course, is driven by Siona’s desire to place Alena as the likely candidate rather than Diallo-Mogai.
So, who is the Guma that Diallo meets in the first chapter, and why is he the only one who can see him? I choose not to answer this question definitively, though I may pose several possibilities that could be considered. The simplest, and therefore the least satisfying explanation may be that Diallo is insane. Perhaps schizophrenic. This view is certainly hinted at within the text.
But it may just as easily be that Diallo has a special innate ability of perception, which allows him to interact with spirits as if they were as real as the living. In this case, the Guma Diallo meets in the first chapter is a ghost who believes himself to still be alive. The problem with this is that it would not take long for Diallo to figure out that no one can see Guma but him, or that Guma only appears when they’re alone (except for animals like Tuk who can’t talk) and nobody ever talks to Diallo about Guma or refers to him as would be typical if her were alive.
That problem is neatly resolved, however, if you take Guma as a manifestation of Diallo’s dementia, his subconscious actively inhibiting his ability to put this together. Therefore, if Guma is a ghost from the first chapter on, it would be necessary that Diallo is also suffering some sort of dementia correlating with the paranormal explanations.
Another explanation is that Guma is a demon, or some such entity of mild malevolence. In this case, Guma knows precisely who and what he is from the beginning and is deliberately deceiving Diallo and influencing events for his own mysterious reasons.
I confess, I don’t like this interpretation much. It limits the psychological depths of Guma’s character and doesn’t fit the persona I have thus far depicted. In my mind the most satisfying view of Guma is one where he is a boy who is lost in the darkness, deluded about his own reality, and is determined to live his lie rather than recognize himself for what he is. Whether he be spirit or a construct of Diallo’s unconscious is left for the reader to determine for themselves. I endeavor to write for all of these possibilities, though I suppose it’s inevitable that some perspectives will compile more convincing evidence than others as I use Guma in different ways for different purposes.
Whatever his source may be, there are nonetheless obvious symbolic interpretations that appear to be reflections of Diallo’s subconscious. Guma is initially cast in the role of the good son that threatens to replace Diallo as Mosai’s son within the context of his nightmare in The Fever. Guma is strong, brave, obedient, and proud. He’s a winner and a torch-bearer of Batu traditions that would bring honor to any father in the tribe. His purpose in this aspect is to let Diallo know of his inferiority and how he doesn’t measure up. This stems from Diallo’s poor relationship with his father, his feelings of inadequacy, and his inability to enjoy the bond with his father that he wants more than anything else. Guma represents everything Diallo feels he is himself lacking. So, though they are ostensibly friends, Diallo on some level hates and resents Guma.
Another purpose that Guma serves is as a voice for Diallo’s subconscious. Guma’s persistent refrain, “Come on, follow me,” is a play on the Devil made me do it. In this scapegoat role, Guma is the trickster culture hero, the troublemaker who leads Diallo into situations Diallo knows is wrong or dangerous but uses Guma to disassociate himself from his own decisions. Nothing is fundamentally Diallo’s fault if it’s Guma who always instigates his troubles.
In Book One it was Guma who led Diallo up the tree along the Dula river to spy on the bathing girls, leading to Diallo’s humiliating confrontation with Alena. It was Guma who woke up Diallo shortly thereafter and pushed him to break the taboo of violating the women’s fire circle (spying again). In Book Two, it is Guma who took Mosai’s kulu from his hut and brough it to the village hub where it was then lost (intentionally?), which was the first step along the path leading to Mosai’s death.
But Guma is also used a wake-up call, pointing things out that Diallo already knows but doesn’t want to face. Guma is the voice of Diallo’s doubts, articulating his fears and providing him with someone to argue them with. And when Diallo went to run away again in The Wounded, Guma elevated their arguments to actual violence in order to keep Diallo from continuing on his current course. It makes it more interesting to view this scene as Diallo battling violently with himself, and that he didn’t really want to run away or face Pardos again, but at the same time would rather die than continue on in Ephrathah after losing his father and losing face with Alena.
Guma returns again in Dissolutions, this time more peacefully and as the good friend. Guma is now the voice of reason trying to help Diallo cope with losing Alena a letting her go, which of course Diallo won’t listen to.
Then in The Shadow Falls, Guma actually rapes Diallo. This may be viewed as a response to losing Alena. Diallo has not yet passed through his rite of passage into manhood and so there’s still the possibility that he may be like his uncle Kanunga and adopt the third gender of amori – neither male nor female. Diallo seems to be at least rebelling from females due to Alena’s betrayal; however, he can only allow himself to contemplate bisexuality or homosexuality if his is seduced initially by Guma and then raped. Within the role of a rape victim, he is provided the experience of exploration without the responsibility of having made a choice. Being a victim lets him off the hook so he can pursue certain ideas guilt free. It wasn’t him; it was Guma. Being the psychic scapegoat for Diallo is probably Guma’s predominant function.
When Guma is then killed (again) in The Shadow Falls, this can be interpreted in more than one way. First, it can be seen as Diallo trying to let go of this thing that keeps getting him into trouble. An attempt to destroy his id. But it can also be viewed as Diallo’s reaction to his forays into homosexuality where he in essence kills his homosexual lover so he can return to the world and become a man during his rite of passage. Also, his friendship with Guma was irrevocably tainted by the rape, and Guma’s death is a tidy way for him to wash away this human stain and get on with a normal life. The fall of Guma also represents yet another relationship failure and one more instance of rejected love for Diallo, though this time it is he who’s rejecting.
After living without Guma’s presence for a while he begins to come into his own. He becomes a man, a skilled hunter, a husband… but with Fon’s betrayal it all falls apart and Guma returns to him, now as a self-aware ghost. This is an odd twist if he were a ghost to begin with. In that case he would now be the ghost of a ghost. But if he were merely a product of some form of dementia withing Diallo’s brain, then this return of Guma is merely a coping mechanism for his conscious mind to overcome the handicaps of his own faulty wiring.
Either way, one thing achieved by having Guma die again only to come back as an acknowledged spirit is that Guma no longer has to disappear for others to share a scene with Diallo. Diallo is still the only one who can see Guma, but by having him acknowledged as a spirit now, Diallo’s subconscious has found a way to increase Guma’s presence and influence in his life. Diallo now knows consciously that nobody else can see him, and the complicated modes of subterfuge concerning Guma’s reality in the previous books are no longer necessary. The genie has been let out of his bottle and Guma can now appear in every scene Diallo is in, regardless of who else is in it.
So, this second death of Guma in The Shadow Falls can be viewed as the sacrifice of a prototype that served the needs of a child but was becoming obsolete as Diallo came to the cusp of adulthood. Then, as a Christ-figure, Guma leaves the world and Diallo to himself for a time only to rise from the ashes like a phoenix and return in a more powerful, pervading, and influential force than he could ever have been while Diallo believed him alive.
Now Guma can be ever-present as a whisper in his ear, even as other characters are there interacting with Diallo. If Guma were the product of dementia, it has now been magnified exponentially. If he was always a spirit, he is now a vastly stronger one.
As for Guma’s title and status in Diallo’s mind as the Fa Hawara, this seems to symbolize Guma’s attainment of their family throne, both figuratively and literally. Thus, Guma is more than a rival, when Guma appears to be removed, and Diallo transforms into Mogai and mates with Fon, the Freudian hero requirements for ascending the family throne should ostensibly be fulfilled. But because Mogai’s heart remains on the troubled path of incest in his feelings for Alena as a mother figure, and the ghostly return of Guma as a father figure, all his achievements in adulthood are fundamentally empty and doomed for failure. Even when he assumes his father’s mantle of the Fa Hawara, his failure with Fon as he clings to his child-self reflects his total failure toward the Freudian independence his society demands of him.
Present-Day Reflection
9/14/2026
As it turned out, I didn’t actually spoon-feed it to the reader in Chapter One: Diallo that Guma isn’t really there. I provided more clues and evidence of this being the case, but I left it more or less concealed so that most readers are not likely to guess the truth about him.
It was a gray, misty morning like any other when the ghost came to him from out of the morning fog. (The first line in Chapter 1: Diallo. But it goes on to describe a heron emerging from the fog, which misdirects the first line away from Guma’s eventual appearance.)
What, am I chasing a ghost now? (Diallo’s thought when not finding anybody after hearing something under the log bridge.)
The ghostly figure stood eclipsing the sun, a corona of golden light streaming all about him. The apparition… (The repetition of the ghost motif now being applied to Guma.)
Diallo didn’t recognize him… there shouldn’t be anybody he couldn’t at least recognize… there was no word in the Batu tongue of Kanar for stranger. (Explaining to the reader the oddity of Diallo not recognizing Guma)
“You’re not Guma… I’ve heard of you, but… I heard… How come I’ve never seen you around before?” (Diallo’s response after Guma introduces himself by name. Diallo stops just short of saying “I heard you died.”)
All of this is too subtle, I think, for readers to pick up on what’s really going on. And this is how I left it. I like the way Dickens opens his Christmas Carol by making sure the reader knows very well that Jacob Marley was dead, as dead as a door-nail. Because without establishing that fact up front …nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.
Well, I’m hoping that isn’t the case with my story.
