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Life and Travels of Mungo Park in Central Africa by Mungo Park

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The sad fate of this wretched woman, notwithstanding the outcry before
mentioned, made a strong impression on the minds of the whole coffle, and
the schoolmaster fasted the whole of the ensuing day, in consequence of
it. We proceeded in deep silence, and soon afterward crossed the river
Furkoomah, which was about as large as the river Wonda. We now travelled
with great expedition, every one being apprehensive he might otherwise
meet with the fate of poor Nealee. It was, however, with great difficulty
that I could keep up, although I threw away my spear, and every thing
that could in the least obstruct me. About noon we saw a large herd of
elephants, but they suffered us to pass unmolested, and in the evening we
halted near a thicket of bamboo, but found no water; so that we were
forced to proceed four miles farther, to a small stream, where we stopt
for the night. We had marched this day, as I judged, about twenty-six
miles.

April 26th. This morning two of the schoolmaster's pupils complained much
of pains in their legs, and one of the slaves walked lame, the soles of
his feet being very much blistered and inflamed; we proceeded,
notwithstanding, and about eleven o'clock began to ascend a rocky hill
called Boki-Kooro, and it was past two in the afternoon before we reached
the level ground on the other side. This was the most rocky road we had
yet encountered, and it hurt our feet much. In a short time we arrived at
a pretty large river called Boki, which we forded: it ran smooth and
clear, over a bed of whinstone. About a mile to the westward of the
river, we came to a road which leads to the north-east towards Gadou, and
seeing the marks of many horses' feet upon the soft sand, the Slatees
conjectured that a party of plunderers had lately rode that way, to fall
upon some town of Gadou; and lest they should discover, upon their
return, that we had passed, and attempt to pursue us by the marks of our
feet, the coffle was ordered to disperse, and travel in a loose manner
through the high grass and bushes. A little before it was dark, having
crossed the ridge of hills to the westward of the river Boki, we came to
a well called _culleng qui_, (white sand well,) and here we rested for
the night.

April 27th. We departed from the well early in the morning, and walked on
with the greatest alacrity, in hopes of reaching a town before night. The
road, during the forenoon, led through extensive thickets of dry bamboos.
About two o'clock we came to a stream called Nunkolo, where we were each
of us regaled with a handful of meal, which, according to a superstitious
custom, was not to be eaten until it was first moistened with water from
this stream. About four o'clock we reached Sooseeta, a small Jallonka
village, situated in the district of Kullo, which comprehends all that
tract of country lying along the banks of the Black river, or main branch
of the Senegal. These were the first human habitations we had seen since
we left the village to the westward of Kinytakooro; having travelled in
the course of the last five days upwards of one hundred miles. Here,
after a great deal of entreaty, we were provided with huts to sleep in;
but the master of the village plainly told us that he could not give us
any provisions, as there had lately been a great scarcity in this part of
the country. He assured us, that before they had gathered in their
present crops, the whole inhabitants of Kullo had been for twenty-nine
days without tasting corn; during which time, they supported themselves
entirely upon the yellow powder which is found in the pods of the
_nitta_, so called by the natives, a species of mimosa; and upon the
seeds of the bamboo cane, which, when properly pounded and dressed, taste
very much like rice. As our dry provisions were not yet exhausted, a
considerable quantity of kouskous was dressed for supper, and many of the
villagers were invited to take part of the repast; but they made a very
bad return for this kindness; for in the night they seized upon one of
the schoolmaster's boys, who had fallen asleep under the Bentang tree,
and carried him away. The boy fortunately awoke before he was far from
the village, and setting up a loud scream, the man who carried him put
his hand upon his mouth, and ran with him into the woods; but afterwards
understanding that he belonged to the schoolmaster, whose place of
residence is only three days' journey distant, he thought, I suppose,
that he could not retain him as a slave without the schoolmaster's
knowledge; and therefore stripped off the boy's clothes, and permitted
him to return.

April 28th. Early in the morning we departed from Sooseeta, and about ten
o'clock, came to an unwalled town called Manna, the inhabitants of which
were employed in collecting the fruit of the nitta trees, which are very
numerous in this neighbourhood. The pods are long and narrow, and contain
a few black seeds enveloped in the fine mealy powder before mentioned,
the meal itself is of a bright yellow colour, resembling the flour of
sulphur, and has a sweet mucilaginous taste; when eaten by itself it is
clammy, but when mixed with milk or water, it constitutes a very pleasant
and nourishing article of diet.

The language of the people of Manna is the same that is spoken all over
that extensive and hilly country called Jallonkadoo. Some of the words
have great affinity to the Mandingo, but the natives themselves consider
it as a distinct language. Their numerals are these:--

One _Kidding_.
Two _Fidding_.
Three _Sarra_.
Four _Nani_.
Five _Soolo_.
Six _Seni_.
Seven _Soolo ma fidding_.
Eight _Soolo ma sarra_.
Nine _Soolo ma nani_.
Ten _Nuff_.

The Jallonkas, like the Mandingoes, are governed by a number of petty
chiefs, who are in a great measure independent of each other: they have
no common sovereign; and the chiefs are seldom upon such terms of
friendship as to assist each other even in war time. The chief of Manna,
with a number of his people, accompanied us to the banks of the Bafing,
or Black river, (a principal branch of the Senegal,) which we crossed
upon a bridge of bamboos of a very singular construction. The river at
this place is smooth and deep, and has very little current. Two tall
trees, when tied together by the tops, are sufficiently long to reach
from one side to the other; the roots resting upon the rocks, and the
tops floating in the water. When a few trees have been placed in this
direction, they are covered with dry bamboos, so as to form a floating
bridge, with a sloping gangway at each end, where the trees rest upon the
rocks. This bridge is carried away every year by the swelling of the
river in the rainy season, and is constantly rebuilt by the inhabitants
of Manna, who, on that account, expect a small tribute from every
passenger.

In the afternoon we passed several villages, at none of which could we
procure a lodging; and in the twilight we received information that two
hundred Jallonkas had assembled near a town called Melo, with a view to
plunder the coffle. This induced us to alter our course, and we travelled
with great secrecy until midnight, when we approached a town called Koba.
Before we entered the town, the names of all the people belonging to the
coffle were called over, and a freeman and three slaves were found to be
missing. Every person immediately concluded that the slaves had murdered
the freeman, and made their escape. It was therefore agreed that six
people should go back as far as the last village, and endeavour to find
his body, or collect some information concerning the slaves. In the
meantime the coffle was ordered to lie concealed in a cotton field near a
large nitta tree, and nobody to speak except in a whisper. It was towards
morning before the six men returned, having heard nothing of the man or
the slaves. As none of us had tasted victuals for the last twenty-four
hours, it was agreed that we should go into Koba, and endeavour to
procure some provisions. We accordingly entered the town before it was
quite day, and Karfa purchased from the chief man, for three strings of
beads, a considerable quantity of ground nuts, which we roasted and ate
for breakfast; we were afterwards provided with huts, and rested here for
the day.

About eleven o'clock, to our great joy and surprise, the freeman and
slaves, who had parted from the coffle the preceding night, entered the
town. One of the slaves, it seems, had hurt his foot, and the night being
very dark, they soon lost sight of the coffle. The freeman, as soon as he
found himself alone with the slaves, was aware of his own danger, and
insisted on putting them in irons. The slaves were at first rather
unwilling to submit, but when he threatened to stab them one by one with
his spear, they made no further resistance; and he remained with them
among the bushes until morning, when he let them out of irons, and came
to the town in hopes of hearing which route the coffle had taken. The
information that we received concerning the Jallonkas, who intended to
rob the coffle, was this day confirmed, and we were forced to remain here
until the afternoon of the 30th; when Karfa hired a number of people to
protect us, and we proceeded to a village called Tinkingtang. Departing
from this village on the day following, we crossed a high ridge of
mountains to the west of the Black river, and travelled over a rough
stony country until sunset, when we arrived at Lingicotta, a small
village in the district of Woradoo. Here we shook out the last handful of
meal from our dry provision bags; this being the second day (since we
crossed the Black river) that we had travelled from morning until night,
without tasting one morsel of food.

May 2d. We departed from Lingicotta; but the slaves being very much
fatigued, we halted for the night at a village about nine miles to the
westward, and procured some provisions through the interest of the
schoolmaster; who now sent forward a messenger to Malacotta, his native
town, to inform his friends of his arrival in the country, and to desire
them to provide the necessary quantity of victuals to entertain the
coffle for two or three days.

May 3d. We set out for Malacotta, and about noon arrived at a village,
near a considerable stream of water which flows to the westward; here we
determined to stop for the return of the messenger which had been sent to
Malacotta the day before; and as the natives assured me there were no
crocodiles in this stream, I went and bathed myself. Very few people here
can swim; for they came in numbers to dissuade me from venturing into a
pool, where they said the water would come over my head. About two
o'clock the messenger returned from Malacotta; and the schoolmaster's
elder brother being impatient to see him, came along with the messenger
to meet him at this village. The interview between the two brothers, who
had not seen each other for nine years, was very natural and affecting.
They fell upon each other's neck, and it was some time before either of
them could speak. At length, when the schoolmaster had a little recovered
himself, he took his brother by the hand, and turning round, "This is the
man" (said he, pointing to Karfa) "who has been my father in Manding; I
would have pointed him out sooner to you, but my heart was too full."

We reached Malacotta in the evening, where we were well received. This is
an unwalled town; the huts for the most part are made of split cane,
twisted into a sort of wicker-work, and plastered over with mud. Here we
remained three days, and were each day presented with a bullock from the
schoolmaster; we were likewise well entertained by the townspeople, who
appear to be very active and industrious. They make very good soap, by
boiling ground nuts in water, and then adding a ley of wood ashes. They
likewise manufacture excellent iron: which they carry to Bondou to barter
for salt. A party of the townspeople had lately returned from a trading
expedition of this kind, and brought information concerning a war between
Almami Abdulkader, King of Foota Torra, and Damel, King of the Jaloffs.
The events of this war soon became a favourite subject with the singing
men, and the common topic of conversation in all the kingdoms bordering
upon the Senegal and Gambia; and as the account is somewhat singular, I
shall here abridge it for the reader's information. The King of Foota
Torra, inflamed with a zeal for propagating his religion, had sent an
embassy to Damel, similar to that which he had sent to Kasson, as related
in page 67. The ambassador, on the present occasion, was accompanied by
two of the principal Bushreens, who carried each a large knife, fixed on
the top of a long pole. As soon as he had procured admission into the
presence of Damel, and announced the pleasure of his sovereign, he
ordered the Bushreens to present the emblems of his mission. The two
knives were accordingly laid before Damel, and the ambassador explained
himself as follows:--"With this knife (said he) Abdulkader will
condescend to shave the head of Damel, if Damel will embrace the
Mahomedan faith: and with this other knife, Abdulkader will cut the
throat of Damel, if Damel refuses to embrace it:--take your choice."
Damel coolly told the ambassador that he had no choice to make; he
neither chose to have his head shaved, nor his throat cut; and with this
answer the ambassador was civilly dismissed. Abdulkader took his measures
accordingly, and with a powerful army invaded Damel's country. The
inhabitants of the towns and villages filled up their wells, destroyed
their provisions, carried off their effects, and abandoned their
dwellings, as he approached. By this means he was led on from place to
place, until he had advanced three days' journey into the country of the
Jaloffs. He had, indeed, met with no opposition; but his army had
suffered so much from the scarcity of water, that several of his men had
died by the way. This induced him to direct his march towards a watering
place in the woods, where his men, having quenched their thirst, and
being overcome with fatigue, lay down carelessly to sleep among the
bushes. In this situation they were attacked by Damel before daybreak,
and completely routed. Many of them were trampled to death as they lay
asleep by the Jaloff horses; others were killed in attempting to make
their escape; and a still greater number were taken prisoners. Among the
latter was Abdulkader himself. This ambitious or rather frantic prince,
who but a month before had sent the threatening message to Damel, was now
himself led into his presence a miserable captive. The behaviour of Damel
on this occasion is never mentioned by the singing men but in terms of
the highest approbation; and it was indeed so extraordinary in an African
prince, that the reader may find it difficult to give credit to the
recital. When his royal prisoner was brought before him in irons, and
thrown upon the ground, the magnanimous Damel, instead of setting his
foot upon his neck, and stabbing him with his spear, according to custom
in such cases, addressed him as follows:--"Abdulkader, answer me this
question: If the chance of war had placed me in your situation, and you
in mine, how would you have treated me?"--"I would have thrust my spear
into your heart," returned Abdulkader with great firmness; "and I know
that a similar fate awaits me."--"Not so, (said Damel,) my spear is
indeed red with the blood of your subjects killed in battle, and I could
now give it a deeper stain by dipping it in your own; but this would not
build up my towns, nor bring to life the thousands who fell in the woods.
I will not therefore kill you in cold blood, but I will retain you as my
slave, until I perceive that your presence in your own kingdom will be no
longer dangerous to your neighbours; and then I will consider of the
proper way of disposing of you." Abdulkader was accordingly retained, and
worked as a slave for three months; at the end of which period, Damel
listened to the solicitations of the inhabitants of Foota Torra, and
restored to them their king. Strange as this story may appear, I have no
doubt of the truth of it: it was told me at Malacotta by the Negroes; it
was afterwards related to me by the Europeans on the Gambia; by some of
the French at Goree; and confirmed by nine slaves who were taken
prisoners along with Abdulkader, by the watering place in the woods, and
carried in the same ship with me to the West Indies.




CHAPTER XXVI.

_The caravan proceeds to Konkadoo, and crosses the Faleme River.--Its
arrival at Baniserile, Kirwani, and Tambacunda.--Incidents on the
road.--A matrimonial case.--The caravan proceeds through many towns and
villages, and arrives at length on the banks of the Gambia.--Passes
through Medina, the capital of Wolli, and finally stops at Jindey.--The
Author, accompanied by Karfa, proceeds to Pisania.--Various occurrences
previous to his departure from Africa.--Takes his passage in an American
ship.--Short account of his voyage to Great Britain by way of the West
Indies._


On the 7th of May, we departed from Malacotta, and having crossed the _Ba
lee_, "Honey river," a branch of the Senegal, we arrived in the evening
at a walled town called Bintingala, where we rested two days. From
thence, in one day more, we proceeded to Dindikoo, a small town situated
at the bottom of a high ridge of hills, from which this district is named
_Konkadoo_, "the country of mountains." These hills are very productive
of gold. I was shown a small quantity of this metal, which had been
lately collected: the grains were about the usual size, but much flatter
than those of Manding, and were found in white quartz, which had been
broken to pieces by hammers. At this town I met with a Negro, whose hair
and skin were of a dull white colour. He was of that sort which are
called in the Spanish West Indies _Albinos_, or white Negroes. The skin
is cadaverous and unsightly, and the natives considered this complexion
(I believe truly) as the effect of disease.

May 11th. At daybreak we departed from Dindikoo, and after a toilsome
day's travel, arrived in the evening at Satadoo, the capital of a
district of the same name. This town was formerly of considerable extent;
but many families had left it in consequence of the predatory incursions
of the Foulahs of Foota Jalla, who made it a practice to come secretly
through the woods, and carry off people from the corn fields, and even
from the wells near the town. In the afternoon of the 12th, we crossed
the Faleme river, the same which I had formerly crossed at Bondou in my
journey eastward. This river, at this season of the year, is easily
forded at this place, the stream being only about two feet deep. The
water is very pure, and flows rapidly over a bed of sand and gravel. We
lodged for the night at a small village called Medina, the sole property
of a Mandingo merchant, who, by a long intercourse with Europeans, has
been induced to adopt some of their customs. His victuals were served up
in pewter dishes, and even his houses were built after the fashion of the
English houses on the Gambia.

May 13th. In the morning, as we were preparing to depart, a coffle of
slaves, belonging to some Serawoolli traders, crossed the river, and
agreed to proceed with us to Baniserile, the capital of Dentila; a very
long day's journey from this place. We accordingly set out together, and
travelled with great expedition through the woods until noon; when one of
the Serawoolli slaves dropt the load from his head, for which he was
smartly whipped. The load was replaced; but he had not proceeded above a
mile before he let it fall a second time, for which he received the same
punishment. After this he travelled in great pain until about two
o'clock, when we stopt to breathe a little, by a pool of water, the day
being remarkably hot. The poor slave was now so completely exhausted that
his master was obliged to release him from the rope, for he lay
motionless on the ground. A Serawoolli therefore undertook to remain with
him, and endeavour to bring him to the town during the cool of the night;
in the meanwhile we continued our route, and after a very hard day's
travel, arrived at Baniserile late in the evening.

One of our Slatees was a native of this place, from which he had been
absent three years. This man invited me to go with him to his house; at
the gate of which his friends met him with many expressions of joy;
shaking hands with him, embracing him, and singing and dancing before
him. As soon as he had seated himself upon a mat by the threshold of his
door, a young woman (his intended bride) brought a little water in a
calabash, and kneeling down before him, desired him to wash his hands;
when he had done this, the girl with a tear of joy sparkling in her eyes,
drank the water; this being considered the greatest proof she could give
him of her fidelity and attachment. About eight o'clock the same evening,
the Serawoolli, who had been left in the woods to take care of the
fatigued slave, returned and told us that he was dead; the general
opinion, however, was that he himself had killed him, or left him to
perish on the road; for the Serawoollies are said to be infinitely more
cruel in their treatment of slaves than the Mandingoes. We remained at
Baniserile two days, in order to purchase native iron, shea-butter, and
some other articles for sale on the Gambia; and here the Slatee who had
invited me to his house, and who possessed three slaves, part of the
coffle, having obtained information that the price on the Coast was very
low, determined to separate from us, and remain with his slaves where he
was, until an opportunity should offer of disposing of them to advantage;
giving us to understand that he should complete his nuptials with the
young woman before mentioned, in the meantime.

May 16th. We departed from Baniserile, and travelled through thick woods
until noon, when we saw at a distance the town of Julifunda, but did not
approach it; as we proposed to rest for the night at a large town called
Kirwani, which we reached about four o'clock in the afternoon. This town
stands in a valley, and the country for more than a mile round it is
cleared of wood and well cultivated. The inhabitants appear to be very
active and industrious, and seem to have carried the system of
agriculture to some degree of perfection; for they collect the dung of
their cattle into large heaps during the dry season, for the purpose of
manuring their land with it at the proper time. I saw nothing like this
in any other part of Africa. Near the town are several smelting furnaces,
from which the natives obtain very good iron. They afterwards hammer the
metal into small bars, about a foot in length and two inches in breadth,
one of which bars is sufficient to make two Mandingo corn hoes. On the
morning after our arrival, we were visited by a Slatee of this place, who
informed Karfa, that among some slaves he had lately purchased, was a
native of Foota Jalla; and as that country was at no great distance, he
could not safely employ him in the labours of the field, lest he should
effect his escape. The Slatee was therefore desirous of exchanging this
slave for one of Karfa's, and offered some cloth and shea-butter, to
induce Karfa to comply with the proposal, which was accepted. The Slatee
thereupon sent a boy to order the slave in question to bring him a few
ground nuts. The poor creature soon afterwards entered the court in which
we were sitting, having no suspicion of what was negociating, until the
master caused the gate to be shut, and told him to sit down. The slave
now saw his danger, and perceiving the gate to be shut upon him, threw
down the nuts, and jumped over the fence. He was immediately pursued and
overtaken by the Slatees, who brought him back, and secured him in irons,
after which one of Karfa's slaves was released and delivered in exchange.
The unfortunate captive was at first very much dejected, but in the
course of a few days his melancholy gradually subsided; and he became at
length as cheerful as any of his companions.

Departing from Kirwani on the morning of the 20th, we entered the Tenda
Wilderness of two day's journey. The woods were very thick, and the
country shelved towards the south-west. About ten o'clock we met a coffle
of twenty-six people, and seven loaded asses, returning from the Gambia.
Most of the men were armed with muskets, and had broad belts of scarlet
cloth over their shoulders, and European hats upon their heads. They
informed us that there was very little demand for slaves on the Coast, as
no vessel had arrived for some months past. On hearing this, the
Serawoollies, who had travelled with us from the Faleme river, separated
themselves and their slaves from the coffle. They had not, they said, the
means of maintaining their slaves in Gambia until a vessel should arrive,
and were unwilling to sell them to disadvantage; they therefore departed
to the northward for Kajaaga. We continued our route through the
Wilderness, and travelled all day through a rugged country, covered with
extensive thickets of bamboo. At sunset, to our great joy, we arrived at
a pool of water near a large tabba tree, whence the place is called
Tabba-gee, and here we rested a few hours. The water at this season of
the year is by no means plentiful in these woods; and as the days were
insufferably hot, Karfa proposed to travel in the night. Accordingly,
about eleven o'clock, the slaves were taken out of their irons, and the
people of the coffle received orders to keep close together, as well to
prevent the slaves from attempting to escape, as on account of the wild
beasts. We travelled with great alacrity until daybreak, when it was
discovered that a free woman had parted from the coffle in the night; her
name was called until the woods resounded, but no answer being given, we
conjectured that she had either mistaken the road, or that a lion had
seized her unperceived. At length it was agreed that four people should
go back a few miles to a small rivulet, where some of the coffle had
stopt to drink, as we passed it in the night, and that the coffle should
wait for their return. The sun was about an hour high before the people
came back with the woman, whom they found lying fast asleep by the
stream. We now resumed our journey, and about eleven o'clock reached a
walled town called Tambacunda, where we were well received. Here we
remained four days, on account of a _palaver_ which was held on the
following occasion. Modi Lemina, one of the Slatees belonging to the
coffle, had formerly married a woman of this town, who had borne him two
children; he afterwards went to Manding, and remained there eight years,
without sending any account of himself, during all that time, to his
deserted wife; who, seeing no prospect of his return, at the end of three
years had married another man, to whom she had likewise borne two
children. Lemina now claimed his wife, but the second husband refused to
deliver her up; insisting that by the laws of Africa, when a man has been
three years absent from his wife, without giving her notice of his being
alive, the woman is at liberty to marry again. After all the
circumstances had been fully investigated in an assembly of the chief
men, it was determined that the wife should make her choice, and be at
liberty either to return to the first husband, or continue with the
second, as she alone should think proper. Favourable as this
determination was to the lady, she found it a difficult matter to make up
her mind, and requested time for consideration; but I think I could
perceive that first love would carry the day. Lemina was indeed somewhat
older than his rival, but he was also much richer. What weight this
circumstance had in the scale of his wife's affections, I pretend not to
say.

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An intricate, kaleidoscopic, all-embracing history of 20th-century music from Mahler to La Monte Young is the winner of this year's Guardian first book award. Alex Ross's The Rest Is Noise was the clear and undisputed winner of the £10,000 prize, which has been presented at a ceremony in central London tonight.

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Ross, who is the music critic of the New Yorker, has distilled a lifetime's enthusiasm and learning into a rich narrative of musical history, setting the works of Mahler, Schoenberg, John Cage and the rest into their cultural and political contexts – but also giving a vivid sense of what the music he describes actually sounds and feels like.

Of all the artforms, modern and contemporary classical music is often seen as the most rebarbative. Ross brushes aside the mythology of 20th-century music's "inaccessibility" as he charts its meandering histories. Along the way, fascinating connections are made: hip-hop has more in common with Janacek than you might think; Arnold Schoenberg and George Gershwin were tennis partners; Gershwin, in turn, was an ardent fan of Alban Berg and kept an autographed photo of the composer of Lulu in his apartment. If there is an overarching idea to the book, it is perhaps contained in Berg's pronouncement to Gershwin: "Mr Gershwin, music is music."

Ross, 40, was born in Washington DC, and studied English and history at Harvard. An enthusiastic teenage musician and student broadcaster, he began writing music criticism after university and in 1996 was appointed music critic of the New Yorker. His blog – also called The Rest Is Noise – has been a trailblazer in harnessing the internet as a way of amplifying (often literally) his writing on music.

The New York Review of Books described The Rest Is Noise as "by far the liveliest and smartest popular introduction yet written to a century of diverse music". The Economist noted: "No other critic writing in English can so effectively explain why you like a piece, or beguile you to reconsider it, or prompt you to hurry online and buy a recording."

Nicholas Kenyon, managing director of the Barbican and a former Observer music critic, said: "At a time when people are still talking about 20th-century music as if it were a problem, here is a lucid and entertaining book about what I regard as some of the greatest music ever written. It's a wonderful way to advance the cause of 20th-century music to an ordinary, intelligent general reader. It's the ideal mix of enthusiasm and information."

This year's judging panel comprised novelist Roddy Doyle; broadcaster and novelist Francine Stock; poet Daljit Nagra; the historian David Kynaston; novelist Kate Mosse and Guardian deputy editor, Katharine Viner. Stuart Broom of Waterstone's also joined the deliberations, speaking as the representative of the readers' groups.

The other books on the shortlist were Mohammed Hanif's A Case of Exploding Mangoes; Ross Raisin's God's Own Country; Steve Toltz's A Fraction of the Whole (which was also shortlisted for the Man Booker prize) and Owen Matthews's Stalin's Children.

Previous winners of the prize have included Stuart: A Life Backwards by Alexander Masters (2005) and Zadie Smith's White Teeth (2000).

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