Penumbra

by Songeziwe Mahlangu

Maybe Mfundo shot me that night. This is all a path to my place of rest. I am being shown my life and the things that happened to me. There was also the night I broke the window in my room. I felt trapped. I tried opening the door, but couldn’t. I was woken by Tongai mumbling that I would not be able to go anywhere. Next, I was pushing on the window. Tongai later told me that I suffer from night terrors. Perhaps I threw Tongai out of the window that night. And the guilt made me shut the truth away. Tongai is dead. I killed him a long time ago. Such a decent guy, who never wanted to harm anyone; I murdered him. It is this sin that is eating me up.

Mangaliso Zolo lives in the southern suburbs of Cape Town, near the university. He has an office job at a large corporate, but he does little every day bar shuffle papers and surf the ’net. Penumbra charts Manga’s daily struggles with the twin pull, from friends and acquaintances, of reckless living or charismatic Christianity. A very different Cape Town comes to life – far removed from both the gloss of tourism brochures or the familiar poverty of the Flats – and a certain dissolute South African reality is dissected with haunting precision.

Genres: Fiction, African Literature, Africa, Religion

212 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2013

Reviews

[Siyamthanda Skota · Rating 3 out of 5]

My book club read Penumbra by Songeziwe Mahlangu a few months ago. We were surprised to find that the book had gone as far as getting shortlisted for the Sunday Times Fiction Prize 2014, which has since been renamed after Barry Ronge, a mysterious move which shocked some quarters of the South African literary landscape. We even concluded that maybe Mahlangu’s publishers tried sabotaging him because even at the bookshops the book was hidden far away. Later we found out about Perfect Hlongwane’s Jozi. And we thought it would be quite interesting to read both books and compare the stories after noticing there were some similarities.




In Penumbra (212 Pages): “Mangaliso Zolo is a hapless recent graduate, still living in the southern suburbs of Cape Town near the university. Manga has an office job at a large insurance company, but he is anonymous and overlooked in this vast bureaucracy. Penumbra charts Manga’s daily struggles with mental illness and the twin pull, from his many friends and acquaintances, between a reckless drug-fuelled lifestyle and charismatic Christianity. The novel brings an alternative experience of Cape Town to life, one far removed from both the gloss of tourism brochures and the familiar poverty of the Cape Flats. Mahlangu’s voice is unlike anything South African literature has yet seen and this debut novel dissects young, urban slackers in South Africa with startling precision”.




In Jozi: A Novel (94 Pages) : “This novel collection by first-time author Perfect Hlongwane offers a biting portrait of inner-city Jo’burg, a place where dreams come to die. Written as a series of interlinked stories centring around an eclectic ensemble of characters, Jozi conjures for readers a city both familiar and surprising. With its vein of painful self-examination, evocative sense of place and unflinching exploration of the rawer aspects of Jo’burg living, it brings to mind the impact of cult literary figures like Dambudzo Marechere and Phaswane Mpe”.

Well these books are definitely new and emerging South African voices. They are unique and they are real. And they are really contemporary. Hlongwane says he wrote Jozi for both the youth and adults. I feel like the youth will relate more to the stories in his novel collection. What I love about these books is that even though they have similarities in terms of the themes, the books are also set in cities apart. While Jozi is self-explanatory, Penumbra is based in Cape Town. The writing styles are also different and ever so engaging that even people who hardly read books will find it easy to read and finish the two books.



One of the things which caught my eye in Jozi was foreign men and their treatment of local women. I have observed this treatment particularly from Nigerian men. I’ve also observed how they interact with Nigerian women. Of course this is a generalization and it is only based on my experience. I’ve seen them disrespect the police in South Africa. However, that relationship is very toxic and filled with xenophobia. South Africans are very xenophobic and this is public knowledge. The South African police are also very corrupt. This is public knowledge too. The system is full of holes and clutter. South Africans themselves don’t particularly have a good working relationship with their very own police. It would be unfair on anyone’s part to expect the relationship between the local police and foreign nationals to be smooth and without flaws.

Jozi is a 94 Page book but it discusses a whole range of topics which one would not easily find on a 500 page novel. Tribalism comes out in a rather amusing but not so amusing way when one of the characters in the book comments about Limpopo being somewhere outside South African borders during one of their drinking sessions. This comment isn’t to be taken lightly even in our day to day conversations and interactions. Dark skin is associated with less; ugly; foreign; outsider; and all the negativity in the world. We all know where this comes from. I, for one, have been asked why I am so dark as though I come from Limpopo when I’m actually Xhosa. While someone else (a South African infact) would get so offended for being associated with Limpopo when these comments come up, I don’t. Instead, that someone else offends me. I also take great offence in that comment because I personally do not have any problems with my skin color and tone. I fail to understand how it affects the next person. But my head also spins and stomach turns with great pain because its times like these that I learn that our minds are not yet liberated. We need to decolonize the mind. We need to set our minds free.

One of the most peculiar similarities which the two novels share is mental illness. Everyone is currently discussing this topic everywhere we go. I suppose someone like Robin William had to take their life to revive the public debate as well as private conversations on the subject again. Both lead characters are struggling writers, one in Cape Town, and the other one in Johannesburg. Their spirits are broken and they are leading shattered lives. This reminds me of a conversation on twitter about Ghosts in Johannesburg a few days ago. It was about unhappy and wandering spirits. My immediate response was that I can understand and appreciate unhappy ghosts in that part of the world though. How many souls have perished there? How many dream chasing games have been lost? How many shattered and lost lives are still looking for guidance to their homes and places of rest? And one of the characters in Jozi dies this similar death. He might just be one of the said unhappy ghosts in certain parts of Johannesburg.

Another similarity in the two novels is characters mushrooming out of nowhere and later in the story; and then vanishing again into thin air. Without warning and without a trace. Like ghosts. Of course this annoyed and bored me to death. None of the characters in the books are stronger or extraordinary than the other. So for me, it does not make sense to bump into random characters when I’m a few pages away from the ending of a book. Not when the lead characters themselves are plain, flat and really just absolutely ordinary.

The endings are sudden and abrupt. And maybe that’s the only similarity to note there. Maybe not. Both books leave you with a frown and longing for more. But that longing also leaves you with a smiling and jumping heart because hope tells you that these authors have unfinished business with their readers. It feels like they have more to tell and I absolutely have no doubt that some of the characters in these debut novels will certainly come up with different names in the future. The character’s stories are familiar. We might see ourselves in the stories. We might see our friends and families in the stories, or we might just see the people we have met.

Penumbra is published by NB Publishers and dare I say they have done a poor job of giving this young man’s work some decent publicity.

Jozi is published by the UKZN Press and they are doing some wonderful work there. I remember they also published Mtutuzeli Nyoka’s magnificent “I Speak To The Silent”.



About the authors

Songeziwe Mahlangu was born in Alice in 1985, and holds a business science degree from the University of Cape Town. He was a member of the first MA class in Creative Writing at Rhodes University, in 2011, where he wrote the first manuscript of Penumbra.

Perfect Hlongwane has lectured English at the University of the Witwatersrand and currently works as an independent editing consultant in Johannesburg and Lecturer in Communication at Varsity College.

[Phindi Maduna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Penumbra is an original novel whose fast paced and descriptive writing captivated me and kept me in a world of muddle and murkiness while I was reading it; and had me mystified even after I had finished reading it. So, when I take into consideration that the noun ‘penumbra’ is defined (by dictionary.com) as a partial shadow outside the complete shadow of an obscure mass, where light from the source of illumination is partly cut off, I consider the title and content of this novel to be impeccably apt.

Narrated from the perspective of Mangaliso Zolo, whose struggle with mental illness is worsened by drug and alcohol abuse which he takes part in with his friends, Penumbra gives a perspective of Cape Town that is debauched and depressing.

Penumbra was a trip whose ending left me struggling to see the light through the obscurity of Mangaliso’s, and his friends’ drug and alcohol abuse; but whose subject matter enlightened me nonetheless.

[Palesa · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is very difficult to not draw any parallels between Penumbra and Sello K. Duiker's 'The Quiet Violence of Dreams.' Often times I was distracted by making this comparison but I enjoyed the book. I really love how the story was structured but sometimes I found the writing slightly repetitive, perhaps this was intended. Nonetheless, I think Songeziwe is an incredible storyteller, the ending was mystifying and really resonated with the book's title. I cannot wait to see this fledgling writer grow more into his own voice!

[Nachi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Loved it! Enjoyed the unique style of writing the author presented. Narrated through the protagonist character Mangaliso who is living in Cape Town South Africa. Mangaliso is navigating and trying to make ‘sense’ to life as he battles with mental illness. The books lives you mystified in a good way, a kind of Penumbra, befitting book title.

[Karin Human · Rating 1 out of 5]

Awful.

[Penny de Vries · Rating 3 out of 5]

I began reading this book without an inkling of what to expect. I had not read other’s opinions of it and the blurb on the back cover was not at all illuminating as it merely held an extract. Part One held me entranced as it depicts a young man in the throes of a disturbing mental episode that makes him feel panicky, claustrophobic and paranoid as he lurches through the day, assigning symbolic meaning to every person or thing that crosses his path so that the whole world seems to conspire against him. Even the meaning of the names of those he encounters take on significance

The writing is interesting; I particularly like the way the writer describes the physical sensations in the body; his “brain shakes…wind blows in ..[his] bowels” and “flies cluster in…[his] chest” as his panic grows. I find these metaphors evocative and visceral. I still did not know where the book was going but was enjoying the ride.

After this promising beginning. I was disappointed in Part Two. It describes the period before this episode when he is working as a graduate intern for a company where he is not given much to do and is probably only there to make up the numbers. He tries to find another job but the interviewees detect his underlying apathy. He buys a cigarette on the street. “I inhale the smoke and blow out the arrogance of the wealthy.” I enjoy these flashes of insight and good writing but this is not enough to redeem the novel.

All that seems to happen is the relating of one long litany of jols as the protagonist careens from one to another with his friends; drinking too much, becoming involved with a petty criminal, who introduces them to cocaine and champagne, topped by a sprinkling of sexual exploits with prostitutes. For a moment, it was reminiscent of Young Blood by Sifiso Mzobe and I wondered if the world of crime was going to suck Mangaliso and his friends into its cycle of destruction. However, this aspect was not developed. None of the characters were developed either; they just seemed like a bunch of rootless youngsters that had fallen into a pit of addiction to booze, drugs and sex. Mangaliso appears to realise this and, in trying to distance himself from them, turns to religion. This aspect of the novel is interesting because it is more symptomatic of his paranoia than of a genuine calling. Every encounter has spiritual undertones; even a man he meets in a nightclub. “His dark eyes peer through me. It’s as if he’s stealing bits of my soul.”

Part Three describes events directly after his breakdown and is more of the same with his paranoia and distrust of his friends increasing. it ends in the middle of nowhere. I still have not figured out what the over-riding thrust of this book is meant to be. I do not mind the lack of plot so much as the lack of focus. The depiction of Mangaliso’s mental turmoil is excellent but there is little context or understanding of its provenance. The same applies to all the characters in the book where elements are introduced that seem to go nowhere. Should they not then have been left out? I was surprised to learn that this novel had been shortlisted for the Sunday times Fiction prize; I have read quite a few excellent novels that have not even made the longlist (still, who on earth knows how these prizes work). Nevertheless, despite its shortcomings, this novel is worth reading for its glimpses of talent and exposure to its shadow world.

[Julie Capell · Rating 3 out of 5]

I am rating this as a "3" for two reasons: First, high marks for good writing and an interesting look at life in South Africa. I liked hearing how people travel around in collective taxis and other glimpses of life in a big city there. At the very beginning, I was intrigued by the mystery surrounding the protagonist and what was happening to him. But very quickly it was revealed that he was affected by some sort of mental illness and was having a breakdown, and getting involved in a religious cult. Mental illness and the stigma surrounding it is something I am interested in, but this book didn't seem like it was going to examine that, instead it was focusing on religion.

So . . . reduced score because the narrative started losing traction for me and eventually I stopped reading the book altogether. I had been hoping, based on the description, that it was going to be a bit more provocative in the sense of having some magical-realism or even scifi elements, but it was more of a straightforward novel about religion or cults . . . others might like it but it was not something I wanted to spend time finishing.

[Marius Plessis · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is not how things are meant to be.

A concise, pithy opening line makes me a happy reader. It immediately sets the tone of the novel, and tells me what I’m going to be up against. So, I was intrigued by the opening sentence of Songeziwe Mahlangu’s Sunday Times Fiction Prize-shortlisted Penumbra. Here we have a debut novel by a young South African, a member of the post-evil-A-word generation. I mean, this has just got to be good. Am I right?

Penumbra is a journey through the varying states of mental breakdowns of Mangaliso Zolo, the protagonist-narrator. I use ‘protagonist’ solely because my English 101 lecturer insisted that every story has one; to me, Mangaliso is a far cry from what we associate with the word.

Mangaliso suffers from some serious dementia, fuelled by a religious fanaticism that had me huffing with rage at many points throughout the book. I found him to be very unlikeable as a character; self-absorbed to the point of oblivion, cynical, and over-sensitive. To be blunt: he annoyed me.

Read the rest of the review on atlas house.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was fascinating as it covers the lives of a group of young men who've escaped living in the townships, and are living in middle class - formerly white - suburbs, but their lives lack substance and meaning... the main protagonist has an empty, pointless 9 to 5 job, but is looking for something with more substance and meaning ... his friendships too seem shallow, revolving around the consumption of drugs and alcohol, and when he tries to improve the substance of his life by bringing god into it, this clearly also has no traction for him, so he's left without any clear direction, nor any way to make sense of what life offers him. It's a story about alienation, the emptiness of suburban life, and the void of direction for young men, who having worked to climb out of the average black South African life, find themselves rootless and ungrounded.

[Sami Tunji · Rating 4 out of 5]

This novel is quite awesome with the way the author penetrates the mind of a man, who struggles to be mentally stable. It's like a voyage into the murkiness of madness; like an autobiography of a partially mad man.

We find Mangaliso, the protagonist, struggling to survive and sustain his sanity, which he appears to be losing as a result of alcohol and drug abuse he engages in with his friends.

The regular use of short sentences gives the novel a fast pace that makes the reader to just flow along to the end, the kind of end that makes one to wish the story will not end. Surprisingly there's no chapter division; the novel is just divided into three parts that move from present to past and back to present.

Anyway, it's a novel that is worth reading, and I am not surprised that it won the 2014 Etisalat Prize for Literature.

[Chiomaah Ugo Nwachukwu · Rating 3 out of 5]

A little too vague and boring. But not too bad for a first-time writer. I hope your next work is more enjoyable Mr. Mahlangu

[Em · Rating 3 out of 5]

Here's my review of Penumbra https://subtleroyalty.wordpress.com/2...