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A blistering, brutal novel of the South African frontier from a major new literary voice
Winner of four major South African prizes
At the end of the eighteenth century, a giant strides the Cape Colony frontier. Coenraad de Buys is a legend, a polygamist, a swindler and a big talker; a rebel who fights with Xhosa chieftains against the Boers and British; the fierce patriarch of a sprawling mixed-race family with a veritable tribe of followers; a savage enemy and a loyal ally.
Like the wild dogs who are always at his heels, he roams the shifting landscape of southern Africa, hungry and spoiling for a fight. This is his story; the story of his country, and of our blood-soaked history.
Red Dog is a brilliant, fiercely powerful novel-a wild, epic tale of Africa in a time before boundaries between cultures and peoples were fixed.
Willem Anker was born in Citrusdal in the Western Cape in 1979 and lectures in creative writing at Stellenbosch University. His first novel, Siegfried, was published in 2007. Red Dog was published in Afrikaans in 2014 and won six major literary prizes in South Africa. It is his first novel to be translated into English.
432 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 20, 2014
" His uncommon height, for he measured nearly seven feet; the strength yet admirable proportion of his limbs, his excellent carriage, the confident look of his eye, his high forehead, his whole mien, and a certain dignity in his movements, made altogether a most pleasing impression. Such one might conceive to have been the heroes of ancient times; he seemed the living figure of a Hercules, the terror of his enemies, the hope and support of his friends."
The representations which rumour, too much addicted to exaggeration, had given us beforehand of this extraordinary man, were corrected from the moment of his entrance. His uncommon height, for he measured nearly seven feet; the strength, yet admirable proportion of his limbs, his excellent carriage, his firm countenance, high forehead, his whole mien, and a certain dignity in his movements, made altogether a most pleasing impression. Such one might conceive to have been the heroes of ancient times; he seemed the living figure of Hercules, the terror of his enemies, the hope and support of his friends. We found in him, and it was what according to the descriptions given we had little reason to expect, a certain retiredness in his manner and conversation, a mildness and kindness in his looks and mien, which left no room to suspect that he had lived several years amongsts savages, and which still more even contributed to the remove that his conversation the prejudice we had against him. He willingly gave information concerning the objects upon which he was questioned, but carefully avoided speaking of himself and his connection with the Caffres. This restraint, which was often accompanied with a sort of significant smile, that spoke the inward consciousness of his own powers, and which was plainly to be read that his forebearance was not the result of fear, but that he scorned to satissfy the curiosity of any one at the expense of truth, or of his own personal reputation, made him much more interesting to us, and excited our sympathy much more than it would perhaps have been excited by the relation of his story.