Here are 24 books that A Long Way from Douala fans have personally recommended if you like
A Long Way from Douala.
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I’m a public health professional, author, and reader. During part of my childhood and my subsequent career in international public health, I lived in Côte d’Ivoire and the Central African Republic; I’ve also worked throughout West and Central Africa, primarily in Francophone African countries. My experiences in these parts of the continent have not only influenced my fiction writing, but also what I read. While there are plenty of books by Anglophone African authors, few of their Francophone counterparts see their work translated into English. As a result, stories from French-speaking Africa are underrepresented in the literature available to English-speaking audiences. This list is an attempt to make a dent in this disparity.
I’ve added this graphic novel to my list in part for nostalgic reasons. Although the book and its two sequels were published in the 2000s, they are all set in 1970s Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire, when I had the good fortune to live there. Aya is an adolescent girl living in the vibrant neighborhood of Yopougon, where everyone knows each other’s business. While she just wants to focus on her studies, she keeps getting distracted by the drama of those around her—from the boy-chasing machinations of her girlfriends to the foolish missteps of her parent's generation.
"Aya is an irresistible comedy, a couple of love stories and a tale for becoming African. It's essential reading." -Joann Sfar, cartoonist of The Rabbi's Cat
Ivory Coast, 1978. It's a golden time, and the nation, too-an oasis of affluence and stability in West Africa-seems fueled by something wondrous. Aya is loosely based upon Marguerite Abouet's youth in Yop City. It is the story of the studious and clear-sighted nineteen-year-old Aya, her easygoing friends Adjoua and Bintou, and their meddling relatives and neighbors. It's a wryly funny, breezy account of the simple pleasures and private troubles of everyday life in…
I’m a public health professional, author, and reader. During part of my childhood and my subsequent career in international public health, I lived in Côte d’Ivoire and the Central African Republic; I’ve also worked throughout West and Central Africa, primarily in Francophone African countries. My experiences in these parts of the continent have not only influenced my fiction writing, but also what I read. While there are plenty of books by Anglophone African authors, few of their Francophone counterparts see their work translated into English. As a result, stories from French-speaking Africa are underrepresented in the literature available to English-speaking audiences. This list is an attempt to make a dent in this disparity.
As a public health worker, I was moved by this beautiful novel, an homage to the courageous people who prevented Ebola from becoming a worldwide pandemic. Set in an unnamed country, most likely Guinea, it uses lyrical language and multiple points of view of those affected and infected by the virus—patients, health care providers, gravediggers, the bats who transmitted the virus to humans, and even an old baobab tree that observes the humans with detached wisdom. Using language both poetic and empathetic, Tadjo reminds us in this cautionary tale that Mother Nature is very much in charge.
Two boys venture from their village to hunt in a nearby forest, where they shoot down bats with glee, and cook their prey over an open fire. Within a month, they are dead, bodies ravaged by an insidious disease that neither the local healer's potions nor the medical team's treatments could cure. Compounding the family's grief, experts warn against touching the sick. But this caution comes too late: the virus spreads rapidly, and the boys' father is barely able to send his eldest daughter away for a chance at survival.
I'm passionate about stories that portray women as full human beings managing their passions, challenges, and obligations with grit because I grew up surrounded by a phalanx of them. Those who add “wife” and “mother” to their plate fascinate me all the more, especially as I grow older and better understand the pressures heaped on women. I saw my mother, sister, grandmothers, and aunties in all their complexities, building themselves up as they built families and businesses, starting over when they had to, overcoming the seemingly insurmountable, challenging the status quo, and never giving up. I gravitate toward female characters who share that spirit or grapple with how to get it.
I could not put this book down—and not just because it’s 90 pages long. The letter format instantly drew me into this candid conversation between two old friends grappling with the fallout of their upended marriages.
I love that Ramatoulaye shows no hint of judgment toward Aissatou about the different choices each woman made when faced with similar circumstances. I also appreciated Ramatoulaye’s frank reflections on her daughter’s opinion of her.
Written by Mariama Ba and translated from the French by Modupe Bode-Thomas, So Long a Letter won the first Noma Award for Publishing in Africa, and was recognised as one of Africa's 100 Best Books of the 20th Century in an initiative organised by the Zimbabwe International Book Fair. This edition includes an introduction by Professor Kenneth W. Harrow of Michigan State University.
I’m a public health professional, author, and reader. During part of my childhood and my subsequent career in international public health, I lived in Côte d’Ivoire and the Central African Republic; I’ve also worked throughout West and Central Africa, primarily in Francophone African countries. My experiences in these parts of the continent have not only influenced my fiction writing, but also what I read. While there are plenty of books by Anglophone African authors, few of their Francophone counterparts see their work translated into English. As a result, stories from French-speaking Africa are underrepresented in the literature available to English-speaking audiences. This list is an attempt to make a dent in this disparity.
In the rare instances that the Central African Republic makes it into the news, it’s for political turmoil or for having some of the worst development indicators. After getting to know Central Africans during my years living there, I’ve long been on the lookout for fiction that shows the day-to-day, human side of the CAR. Yabouza’s novel does exactly that, exploring the lives of two co-wives, Ndongo Passy and Grekpoubou, as they cope with the aftermath of their husband’s sudden death. While the premise might sound similar to Ba’s novel, the results are entirely different, thanks to the tight bond that forms between the two former rivals—and the wit, warmth, and seen-it-all wisdom of Yabouza’s storytelling.
Co-Wives, Co-Widows is the first adult work of fiction from the Central African Republic to be translated into English.
This is the story of Ndongo Passy and Grekpoubou, the two widows of Lidou. Following their husband’s sudden and unexplained death, they find themselves fighting tooth and nail for all that is important to them.
A playful, bittersweet, story full of dry wit and local colour, set against a backdrop of political instability, corruption and the friction between the old and the new in Bangui in the Central African Republic.
Tales of magic have captivated me since I was a small child, and I started writing fantasy stories in high school. But it was only when I discovered the YA faerie subgenre several years ago that I truly found my niche. As my book recommendations will demonstrate, there’s a delicious connection between faerie magic and teenage angst, and it’s the tension that arises that makes for fantastic worldbuilding and storytelling. I hope that you enjoy my top books in the genre and find a new favorite for yourself!
One thing you’ll discover as you read YA tales about the fae is that bored faeries are always causing trouble. In Porter’s novel, they tempt Ksenia’s foster brother and best friend away from her and then put her through a progression of nightmares as she tries to wrest him out of their clutches. There’s so much darkness in this book but it never quite tips into horror. It’s more of that incessant creepiness of the Twilight Zone, with scenes that keep ratcheting up the tension and impossible situations. This isn’t your average faerie tale with romance and hijinks—not by a long shot. But because of all that, it’s an absolute delight to read.
“Sarah Porter is a genius. Her language is lush and dangerous, and her books burn with the beautiful, ferocious intensity of a bonfire in the darkest night.”―Brittany Cavallaro, New York Times bestselling author of A Study in Charlotte
From critically-acclaimed author Sarah Porter comes Never-Contented Things: a standalone surreal young adult fantasy of teenagers ensorcelled into a wicked bargain with otherworldly beings…
Every moment of the night― Forever changing places― And they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces… ―Edgar Allan Poe, “Fairy-Land”
Bound by haunting tragedies, Ksenia Adderley and Joshua Korensky have shared a home…
My newest YA novel, Home Field Advantage, is your typical cliché sports romance between a high school quarterback and aspiring cheer captain…except that they’re both girls. Sports is such a fascinating setting for queer YA to me, because it adds a whole extra social dynamic of being teammates and how that can work for or against you, depending on the culture and who you are. It’s also a great venue for subversion of gender norms, which is always welcome to me! And in general, I really just love protagonists who are really passionate about what they do. If they happen to be queer as well, that’s just a nice bonus!
Lundin writes one of the best explorations of internalized and externalized misogyny I’ve ever read in this contemporary YA about Mara, a lesbian who needs a new sport when she’s bounced off of basketball for a fight and finds herself fighting to join football. She’s soon joined by four other girls (including both her crush and her enemy) aiming to join with her, which pisses her off—why do they have to turn it into some girl power thing when she just genuinely loves the sport? But the way things play out teaches Mara a lot about who’s really on her team.
“What if I played football?” I ask. As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I feel stupid. Even suggesting it feels like I’ve overstepped some kind of invisible line we’ve all agreed not to discuss. We don’t talk about how Mara is different from other girls. We don’t talk about how Mara is gay but no one says so. But when I do stuff like this, I worry it gets harder for us all to ignore what’s right in front of us. I direct my gaze to Quinn. “What do you think?” “I think it’s frickin’ genius,” he says.…
I write for middle grade readers because they still dwell in a place of possibility. They know flashy magic doesn’t exist but they’ll still check the back of a wardrobe to see if it leads to Narnia. Middle grade is a period where readers explore their identity, trying to figure out who they are as well as who they’ll become. In these witchy books, the protagonists are exploring their identities, trying to reconcile expectations and the broadening world around them with who they truly are. The resulting books are adventures both external and internal and the start of exciting journeys.
While staying with her aunt in Italy, Lilla comes across a book that reveals she’s a witch. But the Stregamama, an ancient witch, wants to use Lilla for her own means. Meanwhile, Lilla’s crushing on her aunt’s assistant and trying to avoid the local boy her family is trying to set her up with. As a bookish introvert who wanted space to read, draw, and grow on my own terms, I couldn’t help but see myself in Lilla. Slightly artwork brings movement to the story while the palette adds spots of spookiness. A cute, queer graphic novel of realizing and voicing one’s identities, this book charms.
Thirteen-year-old Lilla feels she is a bit different. She's quiet and shy and sometimes feels uncomfortable in the company of boys. She'd much rather spend time by herself drawing and daydreaming. This summer, while staying with her aunt in rural Italy, Lilla discovers a book of magic which reveals that she is a witch with special powers, the magic of 'Strega'.
But unbeknownst to her, an ancient witch, Stregamama, threatens to ruin more than just her summer. Lilla is soon faced with a choice that could change her life forever.
I came out as bisexual way back in 1991, and experienced a lot of discrimination, hostility, and ridicule from both the gay and straight communities. Finding stories about me and my own experience has always been vital, to help me explore and understand more about myself and how I “fit in” in a world that seems to be so locked into an either/or framework. True, I have witnessed a number of positive changes for bi+ folks in the decades since I came out, but there's still a long way to go in terms of visibility, acceptance, and understanding.
This collection of essays about bisexuality came out earlier this year, and I already feel like I need to read it again. The book encompasses both ends of a philosophical spectrum, from recognizable authors who go deep into subjects I thought I was already familiar with to newer voices who open up my mind with their engaging questions surrounding bisexuality, gender-fluidity, polyamory, and more.
Some of these writers challenged my thinking, which I found rare and rewarding in a lot of contemporary writing on bisexual identity and experience. I want to re-read this book so I can process the ideas and questions Vaneet Mehta and Lois Shearing have assembled here and see how I can pour some of this into my life and fiction.
The bisexual experience is, by necessity, incredibly diverse - we are likely to be attracted to different genders, form part of multiple marginalised groups, and be perceived (depending on the gender of our partner) in wildly different ways... This anthology is a radical and ambitious attempt to capture the incredible multiplicity of bisexual identities. With essays that unpack the intersectionality and conflict of bisexuality with history, language, sexual violence, class identity, religion, polyamory, gender critical ideology, fatness, trans activism, the asylum system, literature and anarchy - this collection of bi voices demands to be heard.
I’m a reader and an author who loves stories that are so beautifully written they wrap you up tight in comfort, ensuring no matter what hurt the characters go through, you know it will all be okay in the end. And in stressful times—even in times that aren’t so stressful!—I think we all need that little bit of fictional certainty, that knowing that everything is going to be okay in the end. I started writing to give queer characters suffering from problems like loneliness, anxiety, and homelessness, as many happy endings as I could.Because no matter the difficulties you may be going through, everyone deserves a happy ending.😊
A beautifully written coming-of-age tale. And another book I have read many times. The descriptions are so sensuous and evocative of a hot summer in the French countryside that it’s easy to lose yourself in them. This story isn’t a straightforward romance and reading about deeply flawed but very human characters are ultimately what gives me comfort with this one.
Now also available as an audio-book, read by the author. Adam is a delightful 16-year-old who does well in school and spends his spare time practising the cello. Or that’s what his parents think. But there is another side to him, as farmer’s son Sylvain discovers when he meets Adam alone in the middle of a wood… The results of this chance encounter are explosive in this classic, passionate story of illicit romance and teenage sex during one long, hot summer in the French countryside…
Reviews:
A fine and elegantly written work deserving of a wide readership irrespective of sexual…
I’m a full-time writer, part-time editor, and avid reader of romances between queer women. I’ve just published my twenty-third novel, and I’m still amazed and humbled at getting to live my dream: writing sapphic romances for a living. Discovering sapphic books was a life-saver for me since I grew up in a tiny little village, with no openly LGBT+ people around, and I love knowing that my books are now doing the same for my readers.
This book is the epitome of a slow-burn romance, so as a reader, you get to know both main characters—small-town doctor Maddie and new-in-town librarian Syd—really well and fall in love with them as you watch them slowly fall in love with each other. The author has a unique sense of humor, and the witty banter between Maddie and Syd made me laugh out loud several times.
Librarian Syd Murphy flees the carnage of a failed marriage by accepting an eighteen-month position in Jericho, a small town in the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. Her plans to hide out and heal her wounds fall by the wayside as she gets drawn into the daily lives of the quirky locals. When Syd gets a flat tire and is rescued by the town physician, Maddie Stevenson, the two women form a fast friendship—but almost immediately begin struggling with a mutual attraction. And, if that’s not enough, Syd is straight and going through a divorce—and Maddie somehow forgets to mention her…
