Kennedy Cast
Moez Surani, The Legend of Baraffo.
Toronto: Book*hug, 2023. $23.00
In its exploration of the precariousness of a seemingly progressive, intellectually evolved society, this slow-burn of a novel perfectly encapsulates the tension of our own current political climate in much of the Western world. In The Legend of Baraffo, Moez Surani grabs the reader's hand, walks us through a magic-realist tale of personal and political intrigue, and dares not let us go until the very last page.
Set in the fictional town of Baraffo (in a vague, unnamed country), we follow Mazzu, a young, orphaned boy emerging into adulthood, who is forced to confront the placid nature of his daily life once civil unrest begins to disturb the town and the quiet order enforced upon it by the longtime mayor, Papa (with whom Mazzu lives). After the arrest of Babello, a philosophical, politically revolutionary young man wise beyond his years, the prisoner is locked in a cell in Mazzu’s basement, accused of arson. As Mazzu tentatively forges an unlikely friendship with the prisoner he learns first-hand how privilege can distort one's perspective, how power can both silence and deafen, and how even the unlikeliest of people can become the closest of friends through conversation and empathy. While we never get to see Papa’s perspective, through the eyes of those closest to her we can see how easily one's best civic intentions (towards justice, fairness, and community) can be corrupted by power and complacency. As social and political allegory for various real-world political contexts — including those of present-day Canada — The Legend of Baraffo explores the importance of discomfort, action, and revolution while also highlighting that sometimes the true cost of freedom is not always apparent, even for those on the front lines.
The firebrand Babello is a character to whom anyone who has ever felt embittered by, and raged against, the status-quo can relate. He explains to Mazzu:
More than the fire, what I am guilty of is hatred. I’ve hated this town, and these people. I’ve hated the good things people have that make them want to keep this town just as it is, instead of reforming it. I hate their meals and furniture, and the politeness that makes it seem like the difference is fine.
By allowing Babello to feel the bitterness he has both for and on behalf of the people adamantly against change — those who willfully ignore the unjust nature of society altogether — Surani allows us to share in that frustration. Babello’s passion may just be enough to motivate him, and us, to continue fighting for what is right, and against what is wrong, in our world.
But with civil unrest often comes failed promises and the rise of false messiahs. While some are made out to be perfect encapsulations of justice, as Papa once was and as Babello becomes in Baraffo, no one is perfect once their idealism wears thin and the power they hold must actually be wielded. Just because someone is actively trying to do the right thing, it does not mean everything they do is right. Surani’s writing worries the concept of power itself by exploiting its administrative banality under Papa and her strongman, Bhara; the novel wonders what kind of distress and dangers lurk behind not only the power of complacency and obedience, but around the political structure of power itself. How is it that an entire population of people can put all of their faith into one person or idea? Especially when the pretenses on which they earned that power degrade, or, worse, turn out to be false? Is a chosen leader responsible to remain what they were in the moment they came to power, or is it their responsibility to change? And by what measure?
Masterfully, Surani switches between different character perspectives but chooses to stay away from the points of view of both Babello and Papa — oppressed and oppressor. Mostly, we see the world through Mazzu, who pretends to be much older and wiser than he is; Surani’s prose, though, never fails to remind us that he is still in fact a child. In addition to exploiting Mazzu’s innocence (and perhaps our own adult cynicism), the narration shows that justice is not always black and white, but rather unfolds in shades of grey. Papa has taken guardianship of this orphan boy, given him a home, food, access to education, and opportunities others in Baraffo could only dream of. Yet as mayor she plays a clear role in the injustice occurring in the town against which Babello and others are rebelling. In this way, The Legend of Baraffo embodies the confusion and reckonings of childhood, and specifically what it means to love someone as you learn more about who they actually are. Happily, this P.O.V. also guides the story’s fantastical forays into magic realism and wonder that provide the novel with a sense of mystery and enchantment.
The Legend of Baraffo captures the flames of dissent, revolt, and uprising that are always simmering beneath the surface of outwardly stable political climates. It is a novel of and for our time, and one I fear will become more and more relevant to those of us who feel increasingly ignored by the systems of governance meant to take care of us. Still, The Legend of Baraffo remains whimsical, curious, entertaining, and engaging, and draws readers in so that they too become citizens of Baraffo; through the vibrant images of the town square, the smells of fruit being cut open, and the lively chatter of gossip being passed between market stalls, the reader is enveloped by a sense of collective belonging. And perhaps this feeling of community, alongside the beauty and magic of Surani’s storytelling, is what we all need now more than ever to remind us of the political power of art, and of people desperately searching for the common ground of collective agency.
Kennedy Cast (she/her) is a queer Canadian author and student in her final year in Sheridan College’s Creative Writing & Publishing program. Her work has been featured, and is forthcoming, in Grim & Gilded and The Familiars. She has worked in a variety of roles with publications such as B222, The Ampersand Review, and Rue Morgue Magazine. She is also the Managing Editor and co-founder of Hysteria Horror Mag.