What Is the What: The Autobiography of Valentino Achak Deng by Dave Eggers

the perimeter of the compound and then addressed the young man.
    —You think, what, twenty deserters from the Sudanese army are going to come back and make Sudan a Communist nation? That’s madness. The government of Sudan would crush Ethiopia. And they’ll crush any little insurrection.
    —I don’t dispute that the deserters would lose, the young man said. —But I don’t see a great love of Khartoum in Dinkaland. They could gain some support.
    —Never, said Sadiq.
    —Not this time, my father added. —We know the cost of that. Of civil war. We do that again and we’ll never recover. That would be the end.
    The men seemed to approve of this assessment and it was quiet again, with the sounds of eating and drinking and the animals who retake the forest when the night comes.
    —How about a story then, my father Arou? Sadiq said. —Tell us the one about the beginning of time. I’m always entertained by this.
    —Only because you know it to be true, Sadiq.
    —Yes. Exactly. I throw out the Koran and adopt your story.
    The men laughed and urged him into the story. My father stood and began, telling the story the way he always told it.
    —When God created the earth, he first made us, the monyjang. Yes, first he made the monyjang, the first man, and he made him the tallest and strongest of the people under the sky…
    I knew the story well, but had not heard my father tell it in the presence of men who were not Dinka. I scanned the faces of the Arabs, hoping their feelings would not be hurt. All were smiling, as if they were hearing a fable of some kind, and not the true story of creation.
    —Yes, God made the monyjang tall and strong, and he made their women beautiful, more beautiful than any of the creatures on the land.
    There was a quick burst of approval, this time of a more guttural tone, joined by the Arab men. It was followed by a wave of loud laughter from all. Sadiq nudged me and grinned down to me, and I laughed, too, though I wasn’t sure why.
    —Yes, my father continued,—and when God was done, and the monyjang were standing on the earth waiting for instruction, God asked the man, “Now that you are here, on the most sacred and fertile land I have, I can give you one more thing. I can give you this creature, which is called the cow…”
    My father turned his head quickly, spilling some of his cup into the fire, where it hissed and sent a plume of smoke upward. He turned the other direction and finally found what he was looking for: he pointed to a cow in the distance, one of those waiting to be sold at the market the following day.
    —Yes, he continued, God showed man the idea of the cattle, and the cattle were magnificent. They were in every way exactly what the monyjang would want. The man and woman thanked God for such a gift, because they knew that the cattle would bring them milk and meat and prosperity of every kind. But God was not finished.
    —He never is, Sadiq said, to a wave of laughter.
    —God said, “You can either have these cattle, as my gift to you, or you can have the What.” My father waited for the necessary response.
    —But…Sadiq said, helping out,—What is the What? he said, with an air of theatrical inquisitiveness.
    —Yes, yes. That was the question. So the first man lifted his head to God and asked what this was, this What. “What is the What?” the first man asked. And God said to the man, “I cannot tell you. Still, you have to choose. You have to choose between the cattle and the What.” Well then. The man and the woman could see the cattle right there in front of them, and they knew that with cattle they would eat and live with great contentment. They could see the cattle were God’s most perfect creation, and that the cattle carried something godlike within themselves. They knew that they would live in peace with the cattle, and that if they helped the cattle eat and drink, the cattle would give man their milk, would multiply every year and keep the monyjang