The Abyssinian Contortionist by David Carlin

The Abyssinian Contortionist Reviews

• 
  Sam

  The Abyssinian Contortionist
  By David Carlin
  Published in 2015 by the University of Western Australia.
  
  Review by Sam Robb.
  
  I loved reading about Sosina Wogayahu, whom I knew in 2001 at the NICA and saw again in 2006 at a circus festival in Tasmania (the weekend of the Black Saturday fires in Victoria).
  
  Carlin’s book is part biography of Sosi, part personal reflection, and part travel narrative, with a powerful family tribute to Sosi and her care for her father in his final days towards the end of the book.
  
  The writing is often good, but I found some of the timeframe shifts clunky, and while I wanted to know more about Sosi, I don’t know Carlin and got a bit annoyed with his putting his own perspective to the fore. I suppose he did this as a form of inter-cultural translation. Cudos to him for taking on the subject matter. It is a book I am glad was written, despite Carlin’s implicit politics sometimes distorting the significance of events, roles and choices; that is the authors privilege. Could I do a better job? Maybe, but I haven’t yet and this is a book I doubt I would write.
  
  I am not often drawn to travel narratives, but find when I am (almost) ‘tricked’ into reading one, that I quite enjoy them and learn about faraway places, or at least derive a pleasure from glimpsing a window into a different society.
  
  A scene describing Sosina teaching herself juggling and manipulation skills early in the book thrilled me and I would have liked to read more about that.
  
  I was disappointed to find myself described in what could be the only category in the book possibly referencing me; “buttoned-up springy gymnasts” (ex) on page 131. Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about – I wish people would better understand this. At least it was part of an acknowledgement of all different category of circus performer’s abilities to belong and contribute to circus, which I agree is a broad church.
  
  The person Marc Le Chance and his deplorable exploitation of young boys in the Ethiopian circus was handled with sensitivity by Carlin, but was not as central a theme as a story about one of the male performers might have been.
  
  Carlin did sufficient homework on the history of Ethiopia, and seems to have a reasonable grasp of post-modern/post-colonial theory, but he harps on a bit about the whole first world third world divide. Me thinks he protesteth too much at times. I have to say books written by academics usually have a certain self-conscious righteousness which I just find altogether too clever to be true.
  
  I work in mental health now and am planning to give my copy to an Ethiopian colleague disillusioned with the new NDIS mental health system and returning for a time to Ethiopia. I don’t know how successful my gesture will be, but I hope Carlin’s book can do some work of diplomacy, as it is, overall, a very positive book.
  
• 
  Shana Kennedy

  Really impressed with the quality of the writing, and how fascinating Sosina’s story is. David Carlin hits a great balance of care, reflection, self-awareness, and biographical & historical detail.
• 
  Andrew McMillen

  A biography written across several years in real-time, in the immersive style of narrative non­fiction, 'The Abyssinian Contortionist' is a book as striking and memorable as its cover art. Its author, Melbourne-based writer and teacher David Carlin, charts the course of his friendship with a circus performer named Sosina Wogayehu, who was born in Ethiopia, visited Australia as a teenager in the late 1990s, and has lived and worked here since.
  
  It feels strange to summarise Wogayehu in a sentence as stark as that, however, as hers is a story of such emotional depth and complexity that it is certainly deserving of a book-length narrative. In Carlin, we have a narrator of rare honesty and bald self-doubt. On numerous occasions he makes clear to the reader that this story was written in close collaboration with its subject: he writes of poring over early drafts of the manuscript with Wogayehu, taking in her feedback and sharpening his prose accordingly.
  
  At one point, while visiting an Ethiopian locale of special significance, he writes, “I look across at Sosina relaxing in the cool air, chewing on her lunch. ‘Do you think this is where the book should end?’ I ask her.” (The answer is self-evident, as the story continues for another 10 pages.)
  
  This meta, self-reflexive style of writing easily could have been a gimmick, and quickly tiresome, but from the outset it is clear Carlin is a master storyteller who is well-equipped for the challenge of capturing the life of a woman about whose culture, at the outset, he knows practically nothing. The subject of 'The Abyssinian Contortionist' is clearly a remarkable person of unusual social mobility and ability, yet Carlin manages to navigate the high-wire act of astute observation without falling into hagiography.
  
  Wogayehu’s story begins in her birthplace, the national capital of Addis Ababa, where the eight-year-old entrepreneur earns pocket money by selling single cigarettes to passers-by each afternoon after school. (This fact alone speaks volumes of her canny character.) Life in Ethiopia is tough, and although her father has a job at a local brewery and her mother runs a combined hotel, restaurant and cafe attached to the family home, their means are limited. Sosina teaches herself how to bend her body into seemingly impossible shapes by watching a weekly German variety show on the only television station in the land, and it is in the family lounge room that her career as a contortionist and circus performer takes root.
  
  So she joined Circus Ethiopia, a group that performed on Broadway in New York, in London and Europe, and in Australia. A scandal erupted within the ranks of the performers, who were disturbed by their exploitation, financial and sexual, during a visit to our shores. The man at the centre of subsequent charges, Marc LaChance, committed suicide after confessing his sins of pedophilia. A splinter group of 15 performers, mostly teenagers, fled Circus Ethiopia seeking humanitarian asylum from the Australian government, which eventually relented by agreeing that Sosina and her friends could stay.
  
  It was while working as a director for Circus Oz — “among trapeze bars and tightwire walkers”, as he puts it — that Carlin crossed paths with the young performer, who had recently graduated from the Australian national circus school. As he notes at the beginning, he was drawn to make a book “that traced the contours of the gap” between the two of them. Carlin states early in the piece that he was also looking to write about something other than himself, having published his acclaimed debut in 2010, 'Our Father Who Wasn’t There', about his father’s suicide when Carlin was six months old, and his resultant search for paternal figures.
  
  This story, however, would have been a far less compelling read if it were a straight biography, as Carlin-as-narrator is present throughout its telling. His regular asides are by turns poignant and comedic, as the narrative smartly jumps between reconstructed scenes from the past and first-person observations in the present without jarring the reader. This is quite a skill, and it is one of Carlin’s chief achievements here, as the book was written across several years and includes two visits to Ethiopia. The closing chapters see Carlin tagging along to his subject’s home town following a death in the family, where he is allowed the rare privilege of bearing witness to the startlingly wide-screen, surround-sound manner in which Ethiopians mourn and grieve. In these scenes, Carlin’s fish-out-of-water presence — as a tall white guy among a sea of dark skin — is never clearer, and his insights into this foreign culture are many and worthy. Throughout 'The Abyssinian Contortionist', his writing is so crisp and vivid that, on reading its final pages, I felt a deep satisfaction and a longing for more.
  
  (Review originally published in The Australian, May 2 2015:
  http://www.theaustralian.com.au/arts/...)
• 
  Lauren

  A fantastic read. Combining my two passions of circus, and reading I could hardly put this book down. Sosina's story is incredible and inspiring, I'd recommend it to anyone, though more so women seeking empowerment.
  
  My one criticism is Carlin's narration. More then once he shifts the focus to himself which I found frustrating, and an unnecessary comment about the lack of sexual tension between he & Sosina rather sours the remainder of the book.
  
  Overall I loved this book and can't wait to see what Sosina will do in the future.
• 
  Gill Collins

  This easy paced book was a light yet enjoyable read. The author David Carlin places himself within the story as he shares the life of an Ethiopian woman, Sosina, he met during his time with Circus Oz. A highly motivated and resourceful woman , even as a young child, we read stories of her life growing up in Ethiopia and her 'escape' to Australia mid a pedophile scandal within the Circus Ethiopia she was working for. The book could have used some tighter editing in places but overall a well constructed story.
• 
  Bruno

  A sweet book with an amazing heroine. Sosina's story is that of the entrepreneurial refugee who renews countries and inspires others. The authorial presence others find intrusive I found involved the reader more; like listening all afternoon to a pub story. Read and enjoy.
• 
  Caroline

  I really enjoyed Sosina's fascinating story but felt that the author made it too much about himself. There were plenty of sections I just skipped over because they didn't seem relevant. I also found myself rolling my eyes at David Carlin's very white-focussed perspective.
• 
  Sophie

  Sosina's story is amazing but Carlin's narration is far too self-involved for my liking. I want to know about Sosina, not Carlin realising his white-privilege.
• 
  Ann Tonks

  Charming and thoughtful. A warm book about an amazing woman with the gentle voice of the writer helping us on the journey.