“A History of Books” by Ignatius Sserulyo
An Art Story
How does Ignatius Sserulyo’s A History of Books trace the evolution of human communication? What does it reveal about the ways ideas were recorded before paper and books, and how storytelling has endured across cultures?
By Merritt Eby Gates
“A History of Books” is a monumental multi-panel mural, measuring approximately 3 x 5 metres installed in the stairwell of the East African School of Library and Information Science at Makerere University. Divided into 28 scenes, more than a history of books, it depicts the evolution of human communication.
At first glance, I find the painting slightly overwhelming due to the sheer volume of information that it portrays: a multitude of figures from different cultures engaged in all sorts of activities, blended with seemingly random letters and scripts from different languages layered over animals, draped across musical instruments, machinery and universal symbols. What is going on?
I sit in the stairwell and make myself comfortable – this is gonna take more than a glance to understand what this painting wants to say. Since I can’t seem to find one central figure or obvious storyline, I decide to start at the top left and read it like I would a book. Not every panel is immediately clear, but it seems the artist is moving somewhat chronologically. While I don’t really understand the first row, I notice that the second has Egyptians amongst hieroglyphics. The third row has what looks like Cuneiform (the earliest form of Western written language), alongside Nyero Rock and East Asians making paper against a backdrop of Chinese characters. The fourth row contains biblical imagery, monks transcribing manuscripts, people carving wood, and Egyptians writing in a workshop on what is presumably papyrus, and a sarcophagus.
I remember that some of the oldest Bibles are found in Ethiopia, written in Ge’ez, and I wonder if one of those other figures represents the Babylonians. “Is that right? Babylonians?” I think to myself, as fragments of world history slowly bubble up in my head. I don’t wait for those long forgotten details to surface, instead I quickly do a Google search and find that the language Sserulyo painted is Phoenician. While I’m on the internet, I read about the history of written language and, within five minutes I’m caught up on what may have taken Sserulyo weeks of research and multiple books back in 1973.
Coming to the fifth row, I encounter European medieval musical notation and a man that’s looking at us. I get closer and find that Sserulyo has written all about him – Johannes Gutenberg – on the very papers that Gutenberg himself is holding. This attention to detail – the inclusion of text I can read, when all the other texts were isolated letters or in ancient languages (I admit, my Cuneiform and Phoenician are rusty) – makes me backtrack to the fourth row and reconsider what I had taken for biblical imagery. I ask myself, “What’d he write here, on that part that looks like a newspaper clipping? Something relevant to the bible?” I find that Sserulyo got cheeky somehow and wrote the current news of 1973: “Nixon Watergate”… “Mutesa II of Buganda first president of Independent Uganda”… “Asians asked to leave Uganda in 50 days”... Returning to the fifth row, I notice an industrial paper making workshop and more scribes dressed in modern European clothing.
The sixth row is beautiful and intricate and near impossible for me to discern, only that it’s clear there are letters that I recognise. I move on to the final row: modern-day Uganda. A thatched roof shelters the “Uganda Books” shop, musicians play traditional instruments, aeroplanes carry “air mail,” and radio towers broadcast news of Nyerere across the airwaves. In the bottom right corner, the last panel has what looks like a collage of symbols from cultures around the world – a skull and crossbones, the male and female symbols showing a family tree, stoplights, and, from Uganda specifically, the Crested Crane.
So, what at first was overwhelming, once I took the time to sit and actually look at the mural, I found that I understood and could “read” much more than I had initially thought. I noticed how Sserulyo wove in Africans and Ugandans from the start of the story all the way until the end. I noticed that the printing press and modern print form didn’t come in until more than half way through the mural. I realised this was much more about the evolution of human communication than it was about “A History of Books.”
Ignatius Sserulyo created this work to fulfil the requirements for a Master of Fine Art degree. His dissertation, which is available at the university library, describes almost every scene in detail. A lot of what I observed aligned with what Sserulyo intended to portray according to his dissertation, and yet there is so much more, so many symbols that went over my head – symbols that many Ugandans would likely be able to decipher.
After reading his dissertation it became clear to me that Sserulyo used “A History of Books” to talk about the broader history of communication and communication-related cultural traditions of Ugandan people, and tribes specifically. Through this intricate, detailed piece of work, Ignatius Sserulyo helps to decolonise the history of written communication by ensuring that his Ugandan people are represented in the evolution of communication, even if they didn’t invent the printing press.
Panels of "A History of Books" by Ignatius Sserulyo, created in 1973. Photo: Merritt Eby Gates
"A History of Books" by Ignatius Sserulyo, created in 1973. Photo: Merritt Eby Gates
Merritt Eby Gates
Merritt is a visual artist and expressive art facilitator originally from Colorado, USA. She has lived in Kampala for more than a decade. Her art focuses on themes of mental health and healing, longing and belonging, and the magical quintessence of the imagination.