Books: More magic than realism

After another fantastic voyage with the spirits of Africa, Andrea Henry yearns for solid ground

Infinite Riches

by Ben Okri

Phoenix House, pounds 16.99, 338pp

READERS HAVE tended to fall decisively into two camps in their opinions of Ben Okri's novels. If you are capable of suspending disbelief, of entering into the spirit of his haunted African world, then the intellectual tussle of his poetic prose is rewarding. If, however, the exotic imagery of anthropomorphic forests, human freak shows, Alice in Wonderland-type journeys and circular conversations through which a story imperceptibly wends its way sounds to you like a lot of metaphor, then you probably already know to avoid Okri's new work.

is something of an encore to the Booker Prize-winning The Famished Road in 1991 and Songs of Enchantment (1993). I hesitate to call it a sequel as that implies a progression, whereas in returning to the life of Azaro - the spirit child through whose eyes the novels are told - we find that his experiences, and those of his parents in their Nigerian village, are disarmingly familiar.

As a spirit child, Azaro has the ability to remove himself from his body and, unseen, visit remote locations. He knows other people's waking thoughts and enters their dreams; he sees the dead occupying the spaces between the living. For Azaro, everyday life consists of a dangerous and erratic meandering between the real and the surreal worlds. For his parents it is an unstable, often unhappy existence. Their more tangible concerns comprise keeping an eye on their wandering son, struggling to feed themselves through menial work, and their new nation's politics.

As opens, Nigeria is on the verge of independence and elections loom. Azaro's father is wrongly arrested for the murder of the local carpenter. Savagely beaten in custody, he is released several days later as a result of his wife's inexhaustible campaigning. He is a changed man, mentally scarred. She is a changed women, fired-up, impressive. The dynamics in the household are irrevocably altered.

On his travels Azaro "sees" the Governor-General destroying incriminating papers in anticipation of revolt. Simultaneously, an old woman in the forest knits a huge tapestry - life's rich tapestry, no less - recording for posterity Africa's unique culture.

Here is the novel's strong anti-colonial message, in beautifully written diatribes against the white man's appropriation of Africa. It has been a troubled love affair. While the colonist has anglicised African names; made beliefs and customs seem ridiculous; dismissed philosophies as crude superstitions and authorised the rape of the land, still the magic of the place and the people has overwhelmed him.

Increasingly, the extraordinary rubs shoulders with the commonplace. After a foray into Azaro's otherworld, Okri smoothly returns to the brutality of the real world. As political parties gear up for the pre- election rally, the ravings of Madame Koto - bar owner, rumoured witch and people's politician - cast an ominous shadow. Nigeria moves towards a new era but has first to live through chaos, like a bacchanalian scene from Revelation, to emerge the other side with some semblance of hope.

The reader, too, emerges the other side after a gruelling intellectual journey. It is pleasantly surprising to find that Okri's intensity does not preclude a sense of irony. Azaro is questioned by the local photographer about events in the village. Azaro tells him that among various phenomena recently witnessed, the forest has been singing and the dead carpenter has been roaming the streets. The photographer eyes Azaro curiously. "Tell me something I can believe," he says.

Reading , you may arrive at a similar conclusion. Okri is infinitely rich in imagination, but at times so tangential that his meaning can be elusive. A fantastic sense of the magic of Africa and a wonder at its strangeness only go some way towards a satisfying read. For while, it is good to travel, but it would also be nice to arrive. Okri tends not to be much of a guide, at least in terms of hard facts. Africa is magical, but it is also real.