I had the foresight to expect something radical, based on the reviews and summaries that put matters in context the first time I read the Amharic novel "Adefris", but its writing style was unlike anything I had read before.

The unlikely juxtaposition of the traditional and the modern, the spiritual and scientific, the conservative and the progressive was challenging. This duality in perception, self-expression and sentiment came as a surprise, considering it was written in the 1960s when much of the country was still in the feudal era.

Adefris literally means a disruptor in Amharic. I suspect the author purposely chose this word to convey the shaking of the status quo. In every sense of the word, that was what it did for me: disrupting the literary universe and existing worldview and expanding philosophical discourse.



I witnessed ingenuity in depicting mundane rural life through people, churches, places, dates and holidays in a seemingly haphazard and nonsensical manner. The rather hilarious mention of the diverse names and events only trigged the non-specificity of identity, space, and time in my mind. I was baffled as to why I was provoked by the apparently silly exercise. However, once I got the hang of it, I could not help but be amused and marvel at the sheer imagination, free spirit and mastery of an unusual literary technique.

I navigated through the moral and philosophical universe through the dilemmas in the human mind and society. The characters are used as vehicles carrying several world views from the traditional feudal Ethiopian to a modern Western-style philosophical discourse.


One of the characters, a young university student who struggles with his utopian vision and naivety, unveiled this particular dilemma. I was perplexed by the philosophical discussion he engaged in with an elderly man who challenged his ultramodern ideas. The conversation is complementary and partially aligns tradition with modernity.

The book persists in mentioning a small part of the brain where the mind registers everything since childhood in a chaotic myriad of ideas, thoughts and perceptions. This includes everything that is seen, observed, learned and yet exists in a state of confusion. It got me wondering if it is similar to a term I was familiar with in Physics, Entropy, defined as a lack of order or predictability resulting in a gradual decline to disorder.



Through the characters, the book gives a glimpse into a nation's soul with the typically Ethiopian sense of reverence for the divine. It perturbs the mind about the magnanimity of God, appealing to the reader's conscience.

The tragic fate of the main characters serves as a reminder that social change must be approached carefully and with consideration for values and beliefs. It is a cautionary tale that should be heeded by all who seek to bring about change in their communities—the importance of maintaining social order and upholding accepted norms in society.


As I delved into Adefris, it brought a new revelation and perspective. I learned to experiment with techniques I was not aware of. Each session prompts a new insight and opens the door to a new dialogue, reminding me of the author's sheer genius and intellect.


I could not help but marvel at how the author, Dagnachew Worku, was ahead of his time in style, perspective, and universality of vision.

Perhaps his diverse background helped him to navigate through social norms critically. Dagnachew was born in Northern Shoa near the town of Debre Sina, the same locality serving as the setting for his novel. During high school, he was granted a scholarship at the prestigious Lycee Gebremariam in Addis Abeba. He went on to study literature at HaileSellasie I University (now renamed Addis Ababa University) and continued his postgraduate studies in Fine arts at the University of Iowa, USA.

His style remains insulated from the feelings and views of his character while still portraying them vividly in all their colours. He also does not cast or propagate any personal moral or ideological perspective and remains invisible as a writer.

Dagnachew went on to write poetry, prose and articles in Amharic. A major work in English, The Thirteenth Sun, was first published in 1973 as number 125 in Heinemann’s African Writers series. I had seen a copy in the now-defunct British Council Library near Ras Mekonnen Bridge (Piassa) when I was a university student.

I highly regret not having read the book while I had the chance. It was translated into German, Portuguese and Mandarin with more global reach than Adefris, which remains only in the Amharic version.


The critical reception for the novel Adefris at the time the book was published was not positive. The critics at the time were shell-shocked by the strangeness and novelty of his approach. The misunderstanding translated to rejection and denouncement, leaving the author a pariah to be scolded and an outcast to be shunned. His disappointment and anger led him to collect all unsold copies with the aim of destroying them.

It took decades and further dialogue, debate and intrigue in the literary circles as the notoriously Adefris continued to create controversy. However, as time elapsed and as society opened up and the critics woke up from their slumber, the work started to spark admiration, and its popularity started to gather steam.

The book has become quite difficult to lay hands on a copy. Unfortunately, there is not even a second-class rate copy, as even the few editions printed quickly run out of circulation. I consider my copy a highly prized possession and have qualms about even lending it to other people.



PUBLISHED ON Jun 24,2023 [ VOL 24 , NO 1208]




Bereket Balcha works in the aviation industry and is passionate about fiction writing and can be reached at (bbalcha5@yahoo.com)





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