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Love themes for the wilderness
Book by Jamal, Ashraf
297 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1997
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March 21, 2015
Jamal treats his reader to an oddly distanced cast of characters; one feels immediately at home with them but in the same instance, it is as though each has been sheathed in clear acrylic. You may hear them speak but you will not feel their breath upon the cheek. I suppose like S.A. itself, there is the potential for love of them, perhaps especially for Prue, but it is a difficult love. Hard won, hard fought for.
As it is with writers, the author both is and is not the narrator. I have to say, the narrator was not by any means the type of fellow one would describe as having a big heart. Yet all of his actions are strictly heart propelled; his heart is his rudder. But the mechanism is damaged. Stoker is not one to self scrutinize, and he loses much for it. But after all, the reader finds herself cheering him on. Bless his heart, he seems to be trying.
For anyone interested in the land, the culture, the territory of South Africa, this is an important book. Much more at play than a Jim Coetzee creation, in comparison, Jamal's cast very nearly frolics. But do not overlook the other side of the coin -- the play-ers, each in their own time, seem to be hanging on by a thread, attempting to clutch and re-grasp the hem of a garment that is both familiar and dangerous. What they each have left in their hand at the end of it all is perhaps a too deliberate self definition. Yet that deliberate guard is tucked all around with a notion of impermanence, the sense that everything they have whipped up may be turned on its head tomorrow. I certainly hope that Jamal will permit us a visit with them again, say, 10 years or so down the way. One simply cannot close the book without setting up the table for one more soiree, one more cup of coffee, however far in the future.
As it is with writers, the author both is and is not the narrator. I have to say, the narrator was not by any means the type of fellow one would describe as having a big heart. Yet all of his actions are strictly heart propelled; his heart is his rudder. But the mechanism is damaged. Stoker is not one to self scrutinize, and he loses much for it. But after all, the reader finds herself cheering him on. Bless his heart, he seems to be trying.
For anyone interested in the land, the culture, the territory of South Africa, this is an important book. Much more at play than a Jim Coetzee creation, in comparison, Jamal's cast very nearly frolics. But do not overlook the other side of the coin -- the play-ers, each in their own time, seem to be hanging on by a thread, attempting to clutch and re-grasp the hem of a garment that is both familiar and dangerous. What they each have left in their hand at the end of it all is perhaps a too deliberate self definition. Yet that deliberate guard is tucked all around with a notion of impermanence, the sense that everything they have whipped up may be turned on its head tomorrow. I certainly hope that Jamal will permit us a visit with them again, say, 10 years or so down the way. One simply cannot close the book without setting up the table for one more soiree, one more cup of coffee, however far in the future.
Displaying 1 of 1 review