What Is The What

“Now create in your mind the best of days, and memorize these details, place this day center in your mind, and when you are the most frightened, bring forth this day and place yourself within it. Run through this day and I assure you that before you are finished with your dream-breakfast, you will be asleep.”

Deng uses this mental technique to help survive difficult circumstances, often taking himself mentally to another place and time, where things are better. He advises that is as a good way to sleep, when anxiety keeps you awake.

“Some sociologists, liberal ones, might take issue with the notion that one society is behind another, that there is a first world, a third. But southern Sudan is not any of these worlds. Sudan is something else, and I cannot find apt comparison.”

Western eyes are accustomed to seeing nations as either developed or developing. Deng argues that the trouble in Sudan is so intense that they are far behind even other countries that seek to become more economically and socially advanced.

“This boy thinks I am not of his species, that I am some other kind of creature, one that can be crushed under the weight of a phone book. The pain is not great, but the symbolism is disagreeable.”

This is an example of how low in regard Michael and his people hold Deng and other refugees and immigrants. They are seen as vermin, not worth speaking to, but simply something to be controlled and squashed. On the flipside, it shows the underbelly of American society; a mother is having her 10-year-old son guard the victim of the home she’s invaded.

“Trust in the army had evaporated. The uninvolved had to choose sides.”

This line marks a moment where there is no longer a possibility to remain neutral. Deng’s father had tried to remain uninvolved in the escalating conflict, but was dragged into it against his wishes.

“They started a great fire in the middle of the market, and from this fire, they took burning logs and torches, and these they threw onto the roofs of most of the homes within a one-mile radius. The few men who resisted were shot. This was effectively the end of any kind of life in Marial Bai for some time. Again, the rebels for whom this was retribution were nowhere to be found.”

The first attack on Marial Bai devastated the people there, and ruined any possibility of having a life there. The subtext here is that even though this attack on the village was supposed to be revenge upon the rebels, only innocent people were actually harmed, with the rebels not even present in the village.

“The message from Khartoum was clear: if the rebels chose to continue, their families would be killed, their women raped, their children enslaved, their cattle stolen, their wells poisoned, their homes plundered, the earth scorched.”

The Muslim-controlled north of Sudan has decided to intimidate the rebels by attacking the easiest targets that could be attached to them: women, children, and sources of food and shelter. Essentially, they are willing to commit war crimes to try and gain leverage over the rebels, some of whom might be involved or related to people in the villages.

“I want you to stare into my face, boy. I need you to do this. You see this face? This was the face of a man who trusted. Do you see what happens to a man who trusts? Tell me what happens! His face is taken. Good! Yes, My face was taken. That’s a good way to say it. This is what I deserve. I said I was a friend of the Arab and the Arab reminded me that we’re not friends and never will be.”

This quote is a stunning example of the horrors of war, and how nobody is allowed to remain neutral. This man was mutilated by people who he considered his friends, due to the charged political and socio-theological nature of the conflict.

“No one was important enough to fly away from the war, not in those days.”

Even people with money and fame could not escape the violence entirely. In this case, a wealthy couple tries to pay a pilot to take them to safety, but he refuses.

“This war has made racists of too many of them and too many of us, and it is the leadership in Khartoum that has stoked this fire, that has brought to the surface, and in some cases created from whole cloth, new hatreds that have bred unprecedented acts of brutality.”

The population of southern Sudan is largely Christian, and the population of the north is largely Muslim, but the two demographics are not very different in appearance at all. Deng points out that the president of Sudan, Omar al-Bashir, is almost as dark-skinned as he, and yet he and his predecessors look down on the Dinka and other southern tribes as people to either be converted or eradicated. The leaders in Khartoum actually deny that slavery has been happening in Sudan, stating for the record that kidnappings are actually work arrangements and battles are tribal disagreements. Yet, they use a word for the southern Sudanese that means “slave.” The government of Sudan has created and fostered this division to remain in control of the region.

“I do not think that the Sudanese are particularly argumentative people, but those in Atlanta seem, too often, to find reason to feel slighted by whatever is given to any other. It became difficult to accept a job, a referral. Any gift, from church or sponsor, was received with a mixture of gratitude and trepidation. In Atlanta there were one hundred and eighty pairs of eyes upon us all at any point, and there seemed never to be enough of anything to go around, no way to distribute anything equitably. It was safer, after a time, to accept no gifts, no invitations to speak at schools or churches, or to simply drop out of the community altogether. Only then could one live unjudged.”

Although the Lost Boys of Sudan relied on one another for support and community, there was a bold and corrosive streak of jealousy among them that kept many from succeeding or getting ahead, for fear of having to live under the constant judgment of their peers.

“This was not the Ethiopia we had walked for. I was sure we had farther to go. We are not in Ethiopia, I thought. This is not that place.”

After a terrible and horrific struggle, the boys reach what they thought would be the promised land, with safety, food, and water, but they are devastated to find that it differs little from where they came, and their journey may have been for nothing.

“I was accustomed to walking every day, to walking at night and at the first light of morning, but now, when the sun rose, we stayed. There were boys spread all over the land, and all that was left to do, for some, was to die. The wails came from everywhere. In the quiet of the night, over the hum of the crickets and frogs, there were the screams and moans, spreading over the camp like a storm.”

The Lost Boys find some measure of safety when they arrive in Ethiopia; however, they are unused to staying in one place, and it is strange for them to rest. The journey has taken such a toll on them, mentally, physically, and emotionally, that many of them die when they are finally able to stop moving.

“One day a group of boys threw rocks at a group of new arrivals. The rock-throwing boys were beaten severely and it never happened again, but in my mind, I threw rocks too. I threw rocks at the women and the children and wanted to throw rocks at the soldiers but I threw rocks at no one.”

As the number of refugees grows, frustration and anger set in, and they become resentful of one another. The more people who come, the less resources there are for everyone, and they are already woefully low on supplies of any kind. Further, we gain a window onto Deng’s honesty about his feelings. Even if he doesn’t want to throw rocks, he feels like he has, and that he needs to, in order to show territoriality and agency in a situation where he has little of either.

“The white man is a close descendant of Adam and Eve, you see. You have seen pictures of Jesus in your books, have you not? Adam and Eve and Jesus and God all have such skin. They are fragile, their skin burning in the sun, because they are closer to the status of angels. Angels would burn in a similar way if placed on earth.”

Christianity has become the primary religion of the south of Sudan, and it fosters some internalized racism for the dark-skinned people of the region. The priest has seen pictures of Jesus and God, illustrated in his Bible, and so believes and spreads the word that their holy figures are white men. This affords the white race a holier status, and elevates them over the black people to whom this view is constantly reinforced.

“I think you will have the power to make people see. I think you will remember what it was like to be here, you will see the lessons here.”

Here, Father Matong explains to Deng why he was named after a saint. The boy will tell the story of his people, how they suffered, and illuminate these times through his words, once he has grown into an adult. This is proven by the publication of What Is the What. It also brings into question the interesting liberties Eggers takes in calling this novel a work of autobiographical fiction: did this event actually occur, or is it being used as something akin to a metafictional device in the novel?

“The rain weakened us all. It was very much like what the rain would do to the cattle we would make from clay—under the relentless rain, the clay would soften and give, and soon the clay would not be a cow anymore, but would break apart. The rain did this to the suffering people of Pochalla, especially the boys who had no mothers: they broke under the force of the rain, they melted back into the earth.”

In this passage, Deng compares the refugees to the tiny clay cow statues that they made. They are fragile, and easily destroyed by the natural forces that wear things down. In this case, the comparison is very appropriate, since the rains kill many of the boy by making them frail and sick, and bringing the insects that spread malaria among them.

“When we left Ethiopia, so many died along the way. There were thousands of us together, but there were so many injured, so much blood along the path. This is when I saw more dead than at any other time. Women, children. Babies the size of the Quiet Baby who would not survive. There seemed to be no point. I look back on that year and see only disconnected and miscolored images, as in a fitful dream.”

The flight from Ethiopia to Kenya, while pursued by the government forces driving them out, was one of the Lost Boys’ lowest and most deadly times of all. Deng was essentially blind at the time from diseases of the eye, and had to shuffle along with the group, holding onto whomever walked ahead of him. All around him, members of their group fell dead along the path.

“If I ever love again, I will not wait to love as best I can. We thought we were young and that there would be plenty of time to love well sometime in the future. This is a terrible way to think. It is no way to live, to wait to love.”

Deng curses the fact that he and Tabitha waited to be together, assuming that there would be plenty of time to make their relationship work. He did not know at the time she would be dead soon at the hand of her former lover, Duluma, who killed her in a fit of jealousy.

“In his trials, St. Augustine realized that the presence of the Risen Christ had never left him; it was the light in the midst of his darkness. There have been times when those words have helped me and times when I found those words hollow and unconvincing.”

Deng is no stranger to depression, and has considered suicide on more than one occasion. When he is at his lowest, he not only struggles to want to continue to live, but also with his faith, as he has many doubts in the angriest corners of his soul.

“Is the curse upon me so great that it casts a shadow over everyone I know, or do I simply know too many people?”

Deng has seen so many people die, and experiences so much tragedy throughout the novel. Even when he reaches America, he is often called upon to help settle disputes and spread information among other Sudanese, so he often hears stories of his people. He begins to wonder if he is cursed, since he has been close to so much death and suffering, and yet remains alive to tell the story.

“You’re a soul whose human form happened to take that of a boy from Sudan. But you’re not tied to that, Val. You’re not just a Sudanese boy. You don’t have to accept these limitations.”

Tabitha tries to convince Deng to run away with her when they are visiting Nairobi together as part of a theater trip. She reminds him that he has done little but go where people tell him to and do what they force upon him, but she believes they can choose for themselves and forge a new path.

“We had been thrown this way and that, like rain in the wind of a hysterical storm. But we’re no longer rain, I said, we’re no longer seeds. We’re men. Now we can stand and decide. This is our first chance to choose our own unknown. I’m so proud of everything we’ve done, my brothers, and if we’re fortunate enough to fly and land again in a new place we must continue.”

Here, Deng speaks with a frightened boy and the other men waiting to travel to America as part of the project by which the Sudanese were moved to the US. He sums up their existence of tragedy and difficulty, and tells them that through all their trials, they kept fighting, and now they are finally about to get their reward.

“I close my eyes against the white sky and see the yellow of a falling sun. I can see her clearly now, moving swiftly down the path toward me, walking her tall gangly walk.”

Deng feels some guilt about not being back in Sudan, trying to help it recover from years of suffering and devastation. He thinks of his mother, and believes that someday, when the time is right, he will go back to Africa and try to tell his story to as many people of the world as he can so that people will understand what is happening there.