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A Dance of The Forests Analysis: Wole Soyinka
A Dance of The Forests Analysis: Wole Soyinka
Wole Soyinka
A Dance of the Forests is one of Wole Soyinka's best-known plays and was
commissioned as part of a larger celebration of Nigerian independence. It was a polarizing play
that made many Nigerians angry at the time of its production, specifically because of its
indictment of political corruption in the country.
After having gone to university in England, Soyinka returned to Nigeria to write this play in
1959, submerging himself in Yoruba folklore as a way of reconnecting with his homeland. The
play is about a group of mortals who invoke the spirits of the dead, hoping that these wiser spirits
will help to guide them, but disappointed to discover that the spirits are just as petty and flawed
as they are.
The play has been interpreted by many as a cautionary tale for the Nigerian people on the
occasion of their newfound independence, to remind them to be critical and seeking, and warning
against becoming complacent. It also provides a metaphor for not sentimentalizing pre-colonial
Africa too much and remaining vigilant. When Soyinka won the Nobel Prize for Literature in
1986, A Dance of the Forests was named as one of his crowning achievements, and he was
named "one of the finest poetical playwrights that have written in English.”
A Dance of the Forests presents a complex interplay between gods, mortals, and the
dead in which the ideal goal is the experience of self-discovery within the context of
West African spiritualism. The living have invited two glorious forefathers to take part in
a feast and celebration—the “Gathering of the Tribes.” The god Aroni, however,
explains in the prologue that he received the permission of the Forest Head to select
instead “two [obscure] spirits of the restless dead”: the Dead Man and the Dead
Woman, a captain and his wife from the army of the ancient Emperor Mata Kharibu.
These two were selected because in a previous life they had been violently abused by
four of the living. The four mortals are Rola, an incorrigible whore nicknamed Madame
Tortoise, who was then a queen; Demoke, now a carver and then a poet; Adenebi, now
council Orator and then Court Historian; and Agboreko, Elder of Sealed Lips, a
soothsayer in both existences. They have been selected because of past debauchery,
which Aroni hopes can be expiated through revelation. Aroni further explains in the
prologue that the Forest Head, disguised as a human, Obaneji, invites the four mortals
into the forest to participate in a welcome dance for the Dead Man and the Dead
Woman, who Aroni takes under his wing after the living ostracize them. The dance is
interrupted by the wayward spirit Eshuoro.
Eshuoro seeks vengeance for the death of Oremole, a devotee of Oro and apprentice to
the carver Demoke, who killed Oremole by pulling him off the top of the araba tree that
they were carving together. Ogun, the patron god of carvers, defends Demoke. Ogun
(the god of iron, war, and craftsmanship of the Yoruba, Soyinka’s own society) and Oro
(the Yoruba god of punishment and death) represent antithetical forces that
continuously interact until their hypothetical synthesis, through which the mortals would
attain self-understanding.
As the play itself begins, the dead pair, encrusted in centuries of grime, are observed
from a distance by Obaneji as they are rejected in turn by mortals Demoke, Rola, and
Adenebi, who refuse to hear their case. While the mortals play charades with their
inglorious backgrounds, the Dead Woman observes that the living are greatly influenced
by the past accumulation of the dead: “The world is big but the dead are bigger. We’ve
been dying since the beginning.” She implies that the living are in no position to be
choosy about which of their past lives they confront first.
The ceremony for the self-discovery of the four mortals consists of three parts: first, the
reliving of the ancient prototype of their present crimes; second, the questioning of the
dead couple; and third, the welcoming dance for the dead couple. As a preliminary step,
the four mortals are compelled to reveal their secrets. In Demoke’s passionate account
of his killing of his apprentice Oremole, he associates the negative aspect of creation
with a feeling more appropriate to the positive aspect. The blood that flows from
Oremole acts as a medium through which the spiritual energies of the forest are
manifested (an event often resulting in the possession of a human witness). The tapping
of these demon forces may account for Demoke’s supernatural burst of creative energy
just after the murder—an example of the ever-present spirits interacting with mortal life.
In part 2, the scene retrogresses about eight centuries to the ancient court of Emperor
Mata Kharibu. Rola, Demoke, and Adenebi are portrayed as Madame Tortoise (the
queen), the Court Poet, and the Historian respectively—all of whom enact paradigms of
their current crimes. Madame Tortoise, for example, fights boredom by seducing her
subjects and then sending them to retrieve her canary from the palace’s dangerously
steep roof. After a risqué bantering session with the Poet, the piqued Madame Tortoise
dispatches him to fetch her canary. The Poet instead sends his pupil, who falls and
breaks his arm. At this point a chained warrior (the Dead Man) is brought before Mata
Kharibu on charges of treason. The captain had fought against a fellow chief and
abducted his queen, Madame Tortoise, for Mata Kharibu, but he now refuses to risk his
men in another frivolous battle to obtain her dowry. The Court Physician tries to reason
with the captain, who adamantly refuses to obey.
Adenebi, the Historian, asserts that the carnage of history is normal, that the warrior’s
pacifism is sick or traitorous. Adenebi’s historical evaluation suffers from the restricted
awareness that the four mortals share, a state of awareness that the Forest Head tries
to expand. Of the four, only the Soothsayer attempts to spare the captain from being
enslaved and to restrain Mata Kharibu from plunging into another senseless war: “I see
much blood Mata Kharibu. On both sides of the plough.” Fretful, Kharibu asks the
Soothsayer if the captain is a “freak” who can multiply; the answer is “no.” However, the
Dead Man has returned and participates in the welcoming dance of revelation. He is not
“perfectly dead.”
Before the questioning of the dead pair begins, the spirit Eshuoro demands vengeance
against Demoke and hurls invectives at the Warrior. Aroni, however, says, “It is enough
that they discover their own regeneration.” The dead pair are asked to give an account
of themselves and explain the reason for their return. The Dead Woman is pregnant—a
universal mother figure seeking fulfillment.
After the dead couple are welcomed, the Dance of Welcome is performed by the spirits
of the Forest (represented by Demoke, Rola, and Adenebi, wearing masks) who, while
momentarily entranced, chorus the future. The dead pair listen in suspense to see
whether the future will be more auspicious than the past or present. The Forest Head
orders Aroni to relieve the Dead Woman “of her burden (the Half-Child) and let the
tongue of the unborn, stilled for generations, be loosened.” The multiple spirits of the
Forest envision a future of more suffering and hopelessness; it becomes apparent that
the Interpreter of the spirits is collaborating with Eshuoro by conjuring up portents of
disaster to demonstrate the futility of self-knowledge.
At this point Demoke comes to himself and, in the “Dance of the Half-Child,” tries to
rescue the Half-Child from the fate of being continually “born dead.” The significance of
Demoke’s intervention is not that it liberates the Half-Child—this is beyond him—but
that he has taken the first tangible step toward his own redemption. In the dumbshow at
the end of the play, the “Dance of the Unwilling Sacrifice,” Demoke’s totem is
silhouetted as the town people dance around it. Eshuoro finally consummates his
involvement by forcing Demoke to climb the araba tree with a basket over his head, a
burden representing the blindness of his guilt. Eshuoro then sets fire to Demoke’s tree
of transition, from which he falls into the arms of Ogun, the patron god of carvers. Thus
Demoke’s rebirth is symbolized not with words, but with dance and music. The impulse
toward transcendence originates not from the Forest Dwellers, but from within each
mortal, from their inner gods that the Forest personifies.
Although offered to a nation to celebrate its independence, the irony of A Dance of the
Forests is that the victim of its satire is Nigeria itself. Completely devoid of nostalgia,
Soyinka boldly deromanticizes his characters by focusing on delusion, death, and
betrayal. The great gathering of the tribes corresponds to the birth of a nation, but the
heady excitement of the present, bolstered by a glorious heritage, is satirically
complemented by a glimpse of the disquieting truths of the human condition
accumulated throughout the ages. Soyinka’s characters are forced to confront the grim
realities lurking behind their dreams. For Soyinka, then, Africa has an inglorious past;
his technique is to expose this reality through the metaphysical elements of Yoruba
cosmology. Expecting to worship their historic magnificence, the African audience
instead looks back across time to a whore as queen, a barbaric king, and a subjugated
people.
Noted for its Janus-like viewpoint, A Dance of the Forests uses Africa’s past to cast
blame on the present and future. The Dead Man and Mata Kharibu were involved in the
slave trade, implying that Africa too readily accepted its chains, whether imposed by
foreigners or brothers. The living characters’ rejection of the past, moreover, constitutes
a deplorable treatment of guests that violates the rules of conduct held in high esteem
by African societies. Men treated each other badly in the past, and they continue to do
so in the present. Events in Nigeria since 1960 (including a bloody civil war) have
proven Soyinka’s prescience in predicting the need for rational self-criticism. Soyinka’s
satiric vision resembles that of Jonathan Swift. He has also been compared to Joseph
Conrad in his representation of horror and to William Wordsworth in his lament on
man’s inhumanity to man.
Another ritual that gets performed is the Dance of Welcome, in which the spirits of the forest
perform and deliver monologues. Then the Dance of the Half-Child determines with whom the
unborn child will go. Often, rituals, dances, and formal representations stand in for literal events.
Indeed, the entire play can be seen as a stringing together of the different formalized rituals that
make up the narrative.
A Dance of the Forests Symbols, Allegory and Motifs
Smoking out the forest (Symbol)
The Old Man sends for a truck to smoke out the forest with the petrol fumes, all in order to find
his son. This event is symbolic of the ways that humans are willing to disrupt and destroy nature
in order to get what they want.
Coin purse (Symbol)
In the court of Mata Kharibu, the Slave-Dealer hands the Historian a coin purse in exchange for
his agreement that his ship is a worthy vessel. The coin purse is a symbol of how bribery and
corruption work in the court of Mata Kharibu. People are willing to get paid off in order to turn a
blind eye to injustice, and the coin purse symbolizes their greed and the fact that they can be
bought.
Out of the Soil (Symbol)
Dead Man and Dead Woman come up out of the soil in the opening of the play, which
symbolizes their journey from the subterranean world of the dead to the world of the living. It
represents that they are not alive, but it also represents that they have unfinished business, and
that they come with issues that have been buried and that they are literally and figuratively
bringing to light.
Music and Ritual (Motif)
Throughout the play, music and ritual are used as theatrical devices to illuminate elements of the
narrative and render the story in different ways. Music, ritual, poetry, and possession root the
play in Yoruba traditions from which Wole Soyinka was taking his inspiration, and they also
serve to abstract the events, so that the spiritual, emotional, and ethical truths of the story are
further illuminated. For instance, there are certain parts of the story that are so outside the realm
of literal reality, such as the presence of the Dead Woman's Half-Child in the narrative, that ritual
serves to make sense of events and images that a reader might have a hard time understanding
otherwise.
The Play as an Allegory for Nigerian Politics
While many celebrated the play when it was first performed in 1960 to celebrate Nigerian
independence, its critics believed that it was attacking Nigerian politics and interpreted it as a
warning for the future. Many of the play's critics were members of Nigeria's elite who saw the
play as exposing post-colonial Nigerian politics as corrupt. The play has been interpreted as an
allegory for the ways in which Nigerians were tasked with casting away the structures of
colonialism and beginning anew, trying to find better political modes. While Soyinka's
depictions of mortals and spirits alike as fallible can be read as an indictment of Nigerian
politicians in the post-colonial moment in which it was written, it can also be interpreted as
offering a more idealistic vision of what might be in the future, the possibilities and potentials for
a country on the brink of crafting a new identity.