Itushi Kawase, a Japanese researcher and anthropologist who studied Ethiopian music and Azmari culture for several years, focuses on portraying people living on the margins of society on the streets of Gondar town. His book, Mischief of the Gods: Tales from the Ethiopian Streets (translated from Japanese to English by Jeffrey Johnson), captures these depictions. In his descriptions, Gondar emerges as an uncaring place, inhabited by resourceful poor people, rogues, and vagabonds—impoverished residents struggling to eke out a living.

The author’s goal was not to honor or flatter his subjects but to depict moments of vulnerability, creating a series of unsettling portraits of people living on the margins of society. He recounts what he heard, felt, and perceived during his encounters with homeless individuals, street vendors, and shoe-shine boys, tour guides, revealing the harsh realities of life on the streets—where they face vulnerability to drug addiction, violence, and exploitation. In his prologue, the author establishes a personal tone by recalling his first indelible first contact with the town, which dates back to 2001. He writes, “I had left Japan and traveled via Cairo, just days after the 9/11 terrorist attacks in the US, arriving in Addis Ababa. From there, he headed north to Gondar, where he “collected stories. Some people spoke eloquently, some of them in whispering voices.” “These voices did not pertain to the fact-based discourse that I, as an anthropologist, am trained for”, he unflinchingly asserts.
 

While the work shows promise, it ultimately falls short—relying on half-truths and clichés presented as facts. The portrayal of the culture comes across as overly simplistic, and the author’s tone can feel patronizing, occasionally positioning himself as a savior.

And then there’s the part where he calls the Gondar bus station a den of pickpockets and rogues. To drive the point home, he talks about the misnamed Gebre Kristos, whom he portrays as both the leader and a troublesome opponent, based on accounts from his informant. Nicknamed “Kangaroo” for the stick he carried and his manner of jumping, Gebre Kristos becomes the target of mockery for his physical disability. He also mocks the meaning of his name, ‘Servant of Christ’, saying “What a pompous and depressing name”.  This is clingy. Names in Ethiopia are deeply tied to faith and tradition. Calling such a name “pompous” or “depressing” comes across as disrespectful, from someone who claims to know the country and its language. (The person targeted is an identifiable individual named Gebre Yesus, which means “Act of Jesus” and is known in Gondar for selling maps to tourists, contrary to Kawase’s characterization.) But such insensitive remarks are in large supply in his book. There is another tale about a local Gondar guide who was in a relationship with an American woman, a known figure to this reviewer. The author notes that the woman was much older than the guide. It is a banal story, yet there was a clear attempt to embellish it and make it sound grandiose. Unlike the narrative spun in the book, there was no lavish wedding, nor did the guide move to America—nothing could be further from the truth. Why the need to exaggerate the story so much about a known person, without even bothering to change his name?

Although he attempts to convey sympathy for the struggles of the people he writes about, the author’s approach often feels detached. Currently an associate professor at Japan’s National Museum of Ethnology, the author reflects on his absence from their lives, expressing regret in the epilogue: “To my friends in Gondar, I apologize for my absence. Because at this moment, I walk with you on the street that stretches out in front of the Ethiopia Hotel; together, we sing and dance.” This sentiment comes across as performative rather than genuinely heartfelt. He made references to the financial aid he provided to some of them, portraying himself as generous and benevolent. By highlighting his contributions, Kawase seems to be positioning himself as a savior, reinforcing a patronizing dynamic.