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On The Contrary
Estienne Barbier, born in the Loire Valley in 1699, lays claim to service in the armies of the kings of France and Prussia, but he is an inveterate liar, and the truth is less irate husbands have made the Lowlands too hot to hold him, and he has deserted his pregnant wife to stow away for the Cape of Good Hope.
An expedition to the hinterland opens his eyes to the majesty of the African landscape and its wondrous animals and he is enchanted by the rumour of a fabled city of gold. But he also begins to see clearly the sordid dealing that underlies the self-righteous pomposity of the East India Company. It is a vision that makes him powerful enemies. Taking cover on a remote farm, and energetically consoling sundry widows, Barbier finds himself, to his own surprise, fomenting rebellion.
An expedition to the hinterland opens his eyes to the majesty of the African landscape and its wondrous animals and he is enchanted by the rumour of a fabled city of gold. But he also begins to see clearly the sordid dealing that underlies the self-righteous pomposity of the East India Company. It is a vision that makes him powerful enemies. Taking cover on a remote farm, and energetically consoling sundry widows, Barbier finds himself, to his own surprise, fomenting rebellion.
384 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1993
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47 people want to read
About the author
André Brink
116 books262 followersAndré Philippus Brink was a South African novelist. He wrote in Afrikaans and English and was until his retirement a Professor of English Literature at the University of Cape Town.
In the 1960s, he and Breyten Breytenbach were key figures in the Afrikaans literary movement known as Die Sestigers ("The Sixty-ers"). These writers sought to use Afrikaans as a language to speak against the apartheid government, and also to bring into Afrikaans literature the influence of contemporary English and French trends. His novel Kennis van die aand (1973) was the first Afrikaans book to be banned by the South African government.
Brink's early novels were often concerned with the apartheid policy. His final works engaged new issues raised by life in postapartheid South Africa.
In the 1960s, he and Breyten Breytenbach were key figures in the Afrikaans literary movement known as Die Sestigers ("The Sixty-ers"). These writers sought to use Afrikaans as a language to speak against the apartheid government, and also to bring into Afrikaans literature the influence of contemporary English and French trends. His novel Kennis van die aand (1973) was the first Afrikaans book to be banned by the South African government.
Brink's early novels were often concerned with the apartheid policy. His final works engaged new issues raised by life in postapartheid South Africa.
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
February 22, 2009
This one is for Andre Brink fans. It's a riveting tale of a Frenchman who traveled with the East India Company to South Africa in the 1700s and then later journeyed into the interior. Even though the hero is French, I still thought that the use of Jeanne d'Arc as his muse was a little strange, particularly since she is presented as a "live" companion he talks to. But, overall, I'd still give the book a 3.5 rating because the prose describing Africa is wonderful.
March 11, 2023
Estienne Barbier is not the kind of person one would want to befriend. Though many clearly do. At least in his estimation. But that, obviously, wouldn’t count for much. Estienne is the kind of person whose word is his bond. His bonds, more often than not, shackle his hands to the wall, because he is often incarcerated in the black hole that serves as a dungeon for convicts and suspects alike. You can always trust everything that Estienne says, down to the last word, which probably wasn’t his anyway.
Estienne Barbier is French. He, like Joan of Arc, is from Orleans but, for one reason or another, we encounter him in Cape province in the employ of the Dutch East India Company in the early years of the eighteenth century. He offers a few words on his recruitment.
He is not alone. He has never alone. He is accompanied by his book, his leather-bound book, in which he writes. It’s like a diary. It’s like a notebook. It’s probably evidence. It did, once at least, save his life. He writes regularly as he crosses the Cape, visits various farms and homesteads, treks into the interior, searches successfully for myth and unsuccessfully for mythical riches.
He has quite a swagger, but self-confessedly, he is more of a fighter than a writer. His style is direct, usually not florid, but apt to get to the core of the subject with the tip of his sword, or, depending on gender, the tip of something else protruding. He fights quite a lot and pursues the other much more frequently. In fact, it might be said that wherever he goes, he comes.
But what he doesn’t like is people telling fibs, apart from himself, of course. Always at his side is the spirit of Joan of Arc, who advises him whenever needed on valour, deportment, and tactics. Her wisdom, clearly, is beyond question, and far beyond the nineteen years of her own experience. And when he finds that his superiors, his managers (not his owners, because he himself is not a slave) are involved in pecuniary deception, he organizes what can only be described as a rebellion against their authority. Thus he is pursued, hunted down, incarcerated, tried (several times, in fact) and eventually executed, his bits distributed far and wide. Along the way, he finds time to double-cross a few people in his own inimitable style, free a slave, murder people just because they don’t look like him, kill a unicorn, and castrate at least one anniversary. Such is life.
Regularly, taking his cues from one Don Quixote de La Mancha, supported, of course, by Sancho Panza, his trusty though not bright aid, Estienne basically makes it up, imagines he is more powerful than he is, lives the life of confrontation, and gets his comeuppance. But the journey is rich and powerful, his unreliable account as reliable as he is himself. The denouement, when Estienne realises his folly, is more contemporary to our own age than Estienne’s.
An enduringly interesting point about On The Contrary is the way Andre Brink uses the written word as a metaphor for the exercise of power. Estienne Barbier is himself fascinated by human-created myth. He can sense not a real Joan of Arc nearby but only a recreation of an idea she embodied for someone else. Whoever might have created the historical account has thus dictated what subsequent recipients receive. Don Quixote, who also appears regularly, was a fictional character created out of the mind of an unreliable writer who claimed the work was written by someone else and that he merely translated the text from Arabic.
And then there’s Barbier’s own account stored in his leather-bound book. At the start of his journey, he is acting almost as an official scribe. When those more powerful than he realise he might not be reporting things to their advantage, they have someone else “correct” the account by writing a wholly new one. And then later when Barbier seeks to submit proceedings of his case as evidence, he finds the documents have been completely rewritten to protect the powerful. Given this thread about the validity of reporting that runs through the book, the denouement becomes understandable. There, it is not Barbier asking for a reinterpretation of history, it is Brink himself acknowledging that the history of his country has been written by the victors, in fact falsified by them. He is not calling for justice, merely accuracy, for the record to be corrected.
It is rare that a writer can transport a reader convincingly into a different time, even rarer to arrive there and feel at home in a different culture and mindset. On the contrary, Andre Brink does it every time.
Estienne Barbier is French. He, like Joan of Arc, is from Orleans but, for one reason or another, we encounter him in Cape province in the employ of the Dutch East India Company in the early years of the eighteenth century. He offers a few words on his recruitment.
He is not alone. He has never alone. He is accompanied by his book, his leather-bound book, in which he writes. It’s like a diary. It’s like a notebook. It’s probably evidence. It did, once at least, save his life. He writes regularly as he crosses the Cape, visits various farms and homesteads, treks into the interior, searches successfully for myth and unsuccessfully for mythical riches.
He has quite a swagger, but self-confessedly, he is more of a fighter than a writer. His style is direct, usually not florid, but apt to get to the core of the subject with the tip of his sword, or, depending on gender, the tip of something else protruding. He fights quite a lot and pursues the other much more frequently. In fact, it might be said that wherever he goes, he comes.
But what he doesn’t like is people telling fibs, apart from himself, of course. Always at his side is the spirit of Joan of Arc, who advises him whenever needed on valour, deportment, and tactics. Her wisdom, clearly, is beyond question, and far beyond the nineteen years of her own experience. And when he finds that his superiors, his managers (not his owners, because he himself is not a slave) are involved in pecuniary deception, he organizes what can only be described as a rebellion against their authority. Thus he is pursued, hunted down, incarcerated, tried (several times, in fact) and eventually executed, his bits distributed far and wide. Along the way, he finds time to double-cross a few people in his own inimitable style, free a slave, murder people just because they don’t look like him, kill a unicorn, and castrate at least one anniversary. Such is life.
Regularly, taking his cues from one Don Quixote de La Mancha, supported, of course, by Sancho Panza, his trusty though not bright aid, Estienne basically makes it up, imagines he is more powerful than he is, lives the life of confrontation, and gets his comeuppance. But the journey is rich and powerful, his unreliable account as reliable as he is himself. The denouement, when Estienne realises his folly, is more contemporary to our own age than Estienne’s.
An enduringly interesting point about On The Contrary is the way Andre Brink uses the written word as a metaphor for the exercise of power. Estienne Barbier is himself fascinated by human-created myth. He can sense not a real Joan of Arc nearby but only a recreation of an idea she embodied for someone else. Whoever might have created the historical account has thus dictated what subsequent recipients receive. Don Quixote, who also appears regularly, was a fictional character created out of the mind of an unreliable writer who claimed the work was written by someone else and that he merely translated the text from Arabic.
And then there’s Barbier’s own account stored in his leather-bound book. At the start of his journey, he is acting almost as an official scribe. When those more powerful than he realise he might not be reporting things to their advantage, they have someone else “correct” the account by writing a wholly new one. And then later when Barbier seeks to submit proceedings of his case as evidence, he finds the documents have been completely rewritten to protect the powerful. Given this thread about the validity of reporting that runs through the book, the denouement becomes understandable. There, it is not Barbier asking for a reinterpretation of history, it is Brink himself acknowledging that the history of his country has been written by the victors, in fact falsified by them. He is not calling for justice, merely accuracy, for the record to be corrected.
It is rare that a writer can transport a reader convincingly into a different time, even rarer to arrive there and feel at home in a different culture and mindset. On the contrary, Andre Brink does it every time.
August 23, 2020
Ce livre est un roman historique qui raconte l’histoire d’Estienne Barbier, un homme français qui était parti pour trouver des aventures en Afrique. Le récit commence à la fin, quand il est prisonnier et attends sa mort dans un cachot immonde, car il veut écrire une lettre imaginaire à Rosette, une jeune esclave qu’il avait aidé à fuir. Alors, il raconte son première voyage au limites de la colonie, quand il avait essayé de chercher le Monomotapa (c’est comme El Dorado, mais en Afrique), comment il avait abandonné son père en France, son temps aux Pays-Bas, comment il était parti pour travailler avec le Conseil des Dix-Sept à Cabo, et les faits qui étaient sa perdition. C’est un livre qui n’est pas écrit d’une façon linéale car le récit d’Estienne saute entre le présent, ses réflexions, et différentes parties du passé. Puisque le personnage principal adore le Quichotte, il essaie de raconter ses expériences mélangées avec la fiction, alors il y a des anecdotes fantastiques aussi.
J’ai aimé : C’est clair que l’auteur a fait une investigation historique très complète pour écrire ce roman, et cela est toujours intéressant pour moi. Je pense que l’écrivain a réussi avec son description de la corruption et l’inégalité qui existaient pendant la colonie, et la violence présente dans les relations entre les autorités, les européens, les colons, et la population native. Si bien je n’aimais Estienne pas du tout pendant au moins la moitié du livre, chacune de ses aventures montre des parties plus profondes de lui, donc le développement du personnage principal était bien fait. Ses relations avec tante Louise ou Hendrik Raas étaient charmantes, par exemple. La troisième partie du texte est la plus captivante, et c’est pour cette partie seulement que j’ai ajuté une autre étoile à mon notation. Cependant, les meilleurs éléments du livre sont les contes de Rosette.
Je n’ai pas aimé : Vraiment, je voulais arrêter de lire presque tout le temps, mais j’ai continué seulement pour pratiquer mon français. Il y a des parties longues et lourdes qui n’étaient pas nécessaires. J’ai trouvé le personnage d’Estienne gênant parce qu’il a quarante ans, mais il a la maturité d’un adolescent, il est idéaliste, arrogant, imprudent, et il ne assume pas la responsabilité de ses actes. Il avait menti et trahit des personnes partout pour arriver en Afrique, mais il était indigné quand il s’est rendu compte de la corruption à la colonie, sans se questionner ses propres erreurs. Même à la fin, quand il se sentait très coupable des horribles actes des blancs contre les africains noirs, il ne pensait pas aux gens qu’il avait blessé, donc les sentiments et la position morale de Barbier n’était pas assez solide pour que je sente empathie avec lui. Je ne voulais pas un personnage parfait, bien sûr, mais je voulais un personnage plus cohérent. Même si je comprends que ce livre, comme des autres qui s’inspirent en Miguel de Cervantès, voulait jouer avec la réalité et la fiction dans un roman, j’ai détesté quand Estienne inventait des choses pour améliorer ses récits, parce que pour moi c’était ennuyeux et une perte de temps. Aussi, si bien à la fin Barbier faisait une critique du système colonial, je ne pouvais pas supporter la façon dont il parlait de ses désirs d’héroïsme pendant tout le livre, c’était trop ridicule pour moi. Cependant, le plus grand problème que j’ai eu avec ce roman c’est que la recherche de Rosette est le mobile de l’histoire, mais Estienne l’avait rencontré seulement une paire des fois et ses interactions étaient superflues. C’est bizarre aussi l’élection de l’auteur de mettre l’esprit de Jeanne d’Arc comme la seule vraie amitié d’Estienne et sa guide pour arriver à je ne sais pas quoi (le personnage était bien, j’ai aimé Jeanne, mais c’était trop bizarre qu’elle ait été une partie du récit). Alors, je peux comprendre qu’il y a des choses qui valent la peine, mais je n’ai pu jamais connecter avec les éléments qui donnaient de sens à cette histoire…
J’ai aimé : C’est clair que l’auteur a fait une investigation historique très complète pour écrire ce roman, et cela est toujours intéressant pour moi. Je pense que l’écrivain a réussi avec son description de la corruption et l’inégalité qui existaient pendant la colonie, et la violence présente dans les relations entre les autorités, les européens, les colons, et la population native. Si bien je n’aimais Estienne pas du tout pendant au moins la moitié du livre, chacune de ses aventures montre des parties plus profondes de lui, donc le développement du personnage principal était bien fait. Ses relations avec tante Louise ou Hendrik Raas étaient charmantes, par exemple. La troisième partie du texte est la plus captivante, et c’est pour cette partie seulement que j’ai ajuté une autre étoile à mon notation. Cependant, les meilleurs éléments du livre sont les contes de Rosette.
Je n’ai pas aimé : Vraiment, je voulais arrêter de lire presque tout le temps, mais j’ai continué seulement pour pratiquer mon français. Il y a des parties longues et lourdes qui n’étaient pas nécessaires. J’ai trouvé le personnage d’Estienne gênant parce qu’il a quarante ans, mais il a la maturité d’un adolescent, il est idéaliste, arrogant, imprudent, et il ne assume pas la responsabilité de ses actes. Il avait menti et trahit des personnes partout pour arriver en Afrique, mais il était indigné quand il s’est rendu compte de la corruption à la colonie, sans se questionner ses propres erreurs. Même à la fin, quand il se sentait très coupable des horribles actes des blancs contre les africains noirs, il ne pensait pas aux gens qu’il avait blessé, donc les sentiments et la position morale de Barbier n’était pas assez solide pour que je sente empathie avec lui. Je ne voulais pas un personnage parfait, bien sûr, mais je voulais un personnage plus cohérent. Même si je comprends que ce livre, comme des autres qui s’inspirent en Miguel de Cervantès, voulait jouer avec la réalité et la fiction dans un roman, j’ai détesté quand Estienne inventait des choses pour améliorer ses récits, parce que pour moi c’était ennuyeux et une perte de temps. Aussi, si bien à la fin Barbier faisait une critique du système colonial, je ne pouvais pas supporter la façon dont il parlait de ses désirs d’héroïsme pendant tout le livre, c’était trop ridicule pour moi. Cependant, le plus grand problème que j’ai eu avec ce roman c’est que la recherche de Rosette est le mobile de l’histoire, mais Estienne l’avait rencontré seulement une paire des fois et ses interactions étaient superflues. C’est bizarre aussi l’élection de l’auteur de mettre l’esprit de Jeanne d’Arc comme la seule vraie amitié d’Estienne et sa guide pour arriver à je ne sais pas quoi (le personnage était bien, j’ai aimé Jeanne, mais c’était trop bizarre qu’elle ait été une partie du récit). Alors, je peux comprendre qu’il y a des choses qui valent la peine, mais je n’ai pu jamais connecter avec les éléments qui donnaient de sens à cette histoire…
November 6, 2025
Hetkittäinen viihdyttävyys päähenkilön värittäessä tarinaansa ei riitä korvaamaan muutoin sietämätöntä tylsyyttä.
April 5, 2017
Van die omslag van die boek: 1ste Druk 1993:
"Dit is Desember 1739. In die Donker Gat van die Kasteel ontboesem die terdoodveroordeelde rebel Estienne Barbier sy verhaal aan 'n ontsnapte slavin met wie hy die skandelikste nag van sy lewe deurgebring het. Ek is dood; jy kan nie lees nie: dié sal(daarom)nie 'n brief gewees het nie. Dit is die kleurryke verhaal van 'n Franse soldaat (as hy ooit 'n soldaat was), wat in Holland sy gesin in die steek laat (as hy ooit ooit getroud was), en in diens van die VOC (of miskien as verstekeling op 'n skip?) na die Kaap kom waar hy baie gou met die korrupte owerhede bots. Te voet (of miskien in 'n tamboer met vlerke?) ontsnap hy uit die Kasteel om 'n rebellie van burgers op die been te bring. Maar wie is hierdie Estienne Barbier eintlik? Wie pen op papier sit, lyk my, lieg.
Agter sy versinsels word stadigaan 'n patroon blootgelê bepaal deur drie reise wat verband hou met die omswerwinge van die ridder Don Quixote: 'n reis in diens van die Kaapse gesagvoerders, vir wie hy 'n joernaal skryf, onder meer oor die diere wat hulle teëkom (leeu, olifant, renoster, eenhoring, hippogrief); 'n reis saam met 'n wettelose boere na die land van die Houzouanas (of is dit Monomotapa?); en dan 'n derde reis om skuld te gaan bely en boete te doen teenoor dié wat nog altyd die spit afgebyt het. Ons het alles van mekaar nodig. Ek was by te veel moorde teenwoordig. Sonder vergiffenis kan dit nie end kry nie.
Komies, vindingryk, buitensporig, gewelddadig, nadenkend, romanties, roekeloos, speels, doodernstig. Dit is alles dié pikareske roman oor 'n skelm, 'n verleier, 'n man wat kans sien om Inteendeel te sê vir alles wat 'n mens se menslikheid bedreig.
Dit is seker die mees radikale vernuwing in André P. Brink se loopbaan as skrywer."
My mening: Die boek het moeilik gelees en ek moes dit oor 'n paar dae doen om konsentrasie te behou. Dit is nogtans een van Brink se kragtoere deur die argiewe van die land se verborge geskiedenis wat dit weereens vir die leser net nog meer kleurvoller maak.
"Dit is Desember 1739. In die Donker Gat van die Kasteel ontboesem die terdoodveroordeelde rebel Estienne Barbier sy verhaal aan 'n ontsnapte slavin met wie hy die skandelikste nag van sy lewe deurgebring het. Ek is dood; jy kan nie lees nie: dié sal(daarom)nie 'n brief gewees het nie. Dit is die kleurryke verhaal van 'n Franse soldaat (as hy ooit 'n soldaat was), wat in Holland sy gesin in die steek laat (as hy ooit ooit getroud was), en in diens van die VOC (of miskien as verstekeling op 'n skip?) na die Kaap kom waar hy baie gou met die korrupte owerhede bots. Te voet (of miskien in 'n tamboer met vlerke?) ontsnap hy uit die Kasteel om 'n rebellie van burgers op die been te bring. Maar wie is hierdie Estienne Barbier eintlik? Wie pen op papier sit, lyk my, lieg.
Agter sy versinsels word stadigaan 'n patroon blootgelê bepaal deur drie reise wat verband hou met die omswerwinge van die ridder Don Quixote: 'n reis in diens van die Kaapse gesagvoerders, vir wie hy 'n joernaal skryf, onder meer oor die diere wat hulle teëkom (leeu, olifant, renoster, eenhoring, hippogrief); 'n reis saam met 'n wettelose boere na die land van die Houzouanas (of is dit Monomotapa?); en dan 'n derde reis om skuld te gaan bely en boete te doen teenoor dié wat nog altyd die spit afgebyt het. Ons het alles van mekaar nodig. Ek was by te veel moorde teenwoordig. Sonder vergiffenis kan dit nie end kry nie.
Komies, vindingryk, buitensporig, gewelddadig, nadenkend, romanties, roekeloos, speels, doodernstig. Dit is alles dié pikareske roman oor 'n skelm, 'n verleier, 'n man wat kans sien om Inteendeel te sê vir alles wat 'n mens se menslikheid bedreig.
Dit is seker die mees radikale vernuwing in André P. Brink se loopbaan as skrywer."
My mening: Die boek het moeilik gelees en ek moes dit oor 'n paar dae doen om konsentrasie te behou. Dit is nogtans een van Brink se kragtoere deur die argiewe van die land se verborge geskiedenis wat dit weereens vir die leser net nog meer kleurvoller maak.
July 24, 2024
I love Andre Brink's novels. This is not my favourite within his production though. Perhaps the reason was partly that the events were located so far back in the history (18th century) and I'm not a great fan of historical novels. I also felt that there was a lot in this novel I didn't quite get.
Brink is not a simple writer. There are always different levels on his stories, in this one more than usual I would say. If I was an Afrikaner living in South Africa I would perhaps have understood some things better. And possibly liked less :-) It helped that I have read several Brink's novels before this one.
This was a cruel story about cruel ignorant people. Brink has never treated the South African white population with kid gloves. Here he shows that their whole history has been filled with blood and violence towards the original inhabitants, both people and animals. The racism and inhumanity has very deep roots. Brinks's explanation is not heroism or pioneer spirit but fear. He is probably right.
The "hero" of the story seems to fulfill his destiny in incoherent manner. Consulting Jeanne d'Arc and Cervantes' book about Don Quijote de la Mancha during his journeys and telling his story to a slave woman Rosette (in his mind). A story filled with alternative truths, myths and lies. A story filled with incomprehensible violence and uncanny ignorance.
The South African Eldorado, Monomotapa remains undiscovered, as you can guess from the very beginning. Symbolism also in that.
Kovan valon maa
WSOY 1995
Brink is not a simple writer. There are always different levels on his stories, in this one more than usual I would say. If I was an Afrikaner living in South Africa I would perhaps have understood some things better. And possibly liked less :-) It helped that I have read several Brink's novels before this one.
This was a cruel story about cruel ignorant people. Brink has never treated the South African white population with kid gloves. Here he shows that their whole history has been filled with blood and violence towards the original inhabitants, both people and animals. The racism and inhumanity has very deep roots. Brinks's explanation is not heroism or pioneer spirit but fear. He is probably right.
The "hero" of the story seems to fulfill his destiny in incoherent manner. Consulting Jeanne d'Arc and Cervantes' book about Don Quijote de la Mancha during his journeys and telling his story to a slave woman Rosette (in his mind). A story filled with alternative truths, myths and lies. A story filled with incomprehensible violence and uncanny ignorance.
The South African Eldorado, Monomotapa remains undiscovered, as you can guess from the very beginning. Symbolism also in that.
Kovan valon maa
WSOY 1995
December 28, 2020
(First: I shall celebrate that book with some... music. Gorgeous recording of Jordi Savall „Don Quijote de la Mancha”. Second: I will take few days to complete that entry. The book proved to be something completely different that I expected.) tbc.
March 10, 2021
Very different to the other Brink novels I've read, but in the end still a book written by the genius that is Brink. Might read it again in future.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews