In an April 1926 letter to her brother Thomas, Isak Dinesen complains bitterly about her “pathetic ‘authorship,’” frustrated that all her ideas for literary compo sitions in different genres invariably “turn into mbuni before my pen can touch them.” Whether the book at hand amounts to more than so much mbuni – a waste product from the manufacture of coffee – is for others to judge. That the book exists at all is due to the help and good will of many people.