The Wall of the Plague

by André Brink

Andrea, a Black woman from South Africa, living in France with her white lover, a filmmaker, discovers new meaning, vulnerability, and responsibilities as a Black and as a woman, after the intrusion of a militant South African Black man

Genres: Fiction, Africa, South Africa, Novels, 20th Century, France

447 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1984

About the author

André 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.

Reviews

[Philip · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an amazing book which has many objectives, some achieved and some not. Its first is to tell of Provence and this is a rousing success. I have been to each place described, felt them, lived them; the book is totally accurate. The second is to describe and picture the horrors of apartheid. Again a perfect score. But then the third of the portrait of a “coloured” South African woman, Andrea, is both wordy and flawed. I ultimately didn’t like her, and thought the book labored far to much on this plot.

[Staffan Windh · Rating 3 out of 5]

Nyfiken att se vad som dolde sig bakom ”muren” (😊) började jag läsningen av denna roman.

En beskrivning av en färgad sydafrikansk kvinnas kärleksrelation till framförallt 2 vita män vid olika tidpunkter i hennes liv. Miljöerna skiftar mellan Sydafrika, England och Frankrike.

Man börjar ana att bokens titel kanske ska syfta på å ena sidan murar mot pesten i en förgången tid och å andra sidan de barriärer som fanns (och fortfarande finns ) mellan människor i Sydafrika.
Problemet är att det blir lite väl tjatigt att följa kvinnans (Andrea) relationsutveckling med de båda männen. Det tar liksom aldrig riktig fart och den där kopplingen till Apartheid är också svag. Trots fina miljöbeskrivningar av framförallt Provence i Frankrike så var det nära att boken inte skulle bli färdigläst. Men efter ca halva boken får man skärpa koncentrationen...storyn får ny energi när en tredje man (Mandla) kommer in i Andreas liv.
En ung färgad sydafrikan som i början enbart ger Andrea intrycket av att vara en överdrivet progressiv antiapartheidförespråkare. Men allteftersom han berättar mer och mer om sin uppväxt och sin familj, och de svåra trauman de utsatts för, så väcks också Andreas minnen till liv och hon förstår mer och mer om sitt ursprung och de orättvisor som pågår i hennes hemland.

Parallellt med denna insikt börjar också en annan känsla smyga sig på henne . Hon känner sig attraherad av Mandla. Till en början försöker hon skaka av sig den men till slut så exploderar det .
Hon kapitulerar fullständigt i sin kärlek till Mandla som i sin tur drabbas av en enorm ångest när han inser att han är kär i Andrea. Detta är det sista han önskar eftersom han inte är beredd att leva i en kärleksrelation och samtidigt viga sitt liv åt frihetskampen i Sydafrika……
Som sagt…det var i senaste laget som läsgnistan tändes men väl då så blev man återigen påmind om orättvisorna i världen.

In english:

Curious to see what was hidden behind the ‘wall’ (😊), I began reading this novel.

It describes the love affair of a black South African woman with two white men at different times in her life. The settings shift between South Africa, England and France.

One begins to suspect that the book's title may refer, on the one hand, to the walls against the plague in a bygone era and, on the other hand, to the barriers that existed (and still exist) between people in South Africa.
The problem is that it becomes a little tedious to follow the woman's (Andrea) relationship development with the two men. It never really takes off, and the connection to apartheid is also weak. Despite beautiful descriptions of the settings, particularly Provence in France, I almost didn't finish the book. But about halfway through, you have to sharpen your concentration... the story gains new energy when a third man (Mandla) enters Andrea's life.
A young black South African who, at first, only gives Andrea the impression of being an overly progressive anti-apartheid advocate. But as he tells her more and more about his upbringing and his family, and the difficult traumas they have been through, Andrea's memories are also brought to life and she begins to understand more and more about her origins and the injustices that are taking place in her home country.

Parallel to this realisation, another feeling begins to creep up on her. She feels attracted to Mandla. At first, she tries to shake it off, but eventually it explodes.
She surrenders completely to her love for Mandla, who in turn is struck by enormous anxiety when he realises that he is in love with Andrea. This is the last thing he wants, as he is not prepared to live in a romantic relationship while devoting his life to the struggle for freedom in South Africa...
As I said... it was only recently that the spark of reading was ignited, but then I was once again reminded of the injustices in the world.

[Tony · Rating 2 out of 5]

Halfway through The Distant Mirror by Barbara Tuchman, a wonderfully written but sometimes dense look at the Plague that ravaged the 14th century, I decided to take a break and, somewhat coincidentally, took up The Wall of the Plague, a novel which carries a sub-plot of a black South African expatriate woman coursing through Provence to research locations for a film of the Plague that her white lover intends to shoot. Among the research tools she brings with her, and which author Brink quotes from in the text, is Tuchman's The Distant Mirror. I guess I wasn't meant to leave it.

Brink is one of my favorite authors. In particular, I list Looking on Darkness and An Act of Terror among my favorite novels. The Wall of the Plague sadly does not make that list. The idea -- using the Plague as a metaphor for Apartheid -- was promising enough, if obvious. From The Pied Piper through Camus and Saramago, The Black Death has served as a rich literary vein. However, here, writing techniques got in the way. Constantly shifting POVs can work and enhance a work, adding depth and nuance; but can also, as here, simply annoy. Also, writers often tease by taking a storyline to the point of denouement and then ending abruptly, making the reader wait many chapters to find out what happened. Sometimes that works and sometimes it just comes off as Writing 101. Brink should be better than that.

Things happen in this novel -- deaths, changing partners -- without satisfactory explanations. And the last third of the book was filled with characters simply asking themselves existential questions as they meandered back and forth through Provence. You could feel Brink wanting desperately to make this book important, but mostly I just wanted him to stop, already.

Back to Tuchman.

[Sue · Rating 3 out of 5]

Andrea Malgas is a colored woman from South Africa living in France helping her lover Paul research settings for his movie on the Plague. She is traveling with Mandla Mqayisa, a black South African and friend of Paul's. Mandla's outspoken views are at odds with Andrea's. The trip uncovers more than just filming locations; it uncovers buried emotions forcing themselves to be faced.
I picked this up a few years back in a second-hand bookstore in Windhoek, Namibia. The beginning of it was hard for me to follow partly because of the frequent flashbacks. At times it was hard to know what was present and what was past. As I got further in to it, I began to consider that it was about more than a screenplay about the Plague. As with other Brink books, there is the issue to race relations and this is no different. Many of the flashbacks are to experiences in South Africa before each of them escaped the country. It all came together in a line on page 374: "Anything that can keep one person away from another is a Wall of the Plague." Each of the characters is asked to face what they've been hiding from. This is a book which can be read of different levels. I read it this time for the plot, but there's more to it than that.

[Sandra · Rating 2 out of 5]

It's an interesting book, but hard to really understand it, especially at the first reading. It holds very interesting views about what it is like to live in Apartheid-governed South Africa and what it takes for a person to truly stand up against a regime that, seemingly, can't be beaten. It also has some intriguing views on whether or not a person can ever really escape their past - or their country of origin.

As this book is dating back to the early 1980s, it also holds some very demeaning views of women which sometimes made my skin crawl. The fact that these views were presented as truths by a female narrator (voiced by a male narrator) made it even worse.

[Janique · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed the story and the 'history lesson' on the black plague. I found the sex scenes too frequent and too explicit. The author is excellent at drawing his readers into the story, I found my imagination stimulated and that's why I enjoy reading, so five stars to the author for that. He beautifully describes the landscapes of the towns and cities where the story takes place but I didn't quite connect with the characters and at times found Andrea's indecision annoying. Overall a good read though and will likely pick another of Andre Brink.

[Philip · Rating 3 out of 5]

At the heart of the book is an obvious but tenuous parallel. Andrea Malgas is an attractive – even stunning – coloured woman from South Africa. She has lived in Europe for several years and has become involved with a film-maker who is researching the plague in Europe, southern France in particular. She has had a number of relationships, the first with a white Englishman beginning in South Africa and thus breaking the law. Association took her to Paris. Paul is the current incumbent and he is the film-maker. Andrea gets a job she does not want, to accompany an ANC exile on a tour of southern France. The initial revulsion turns to attraction and Andrea becomes rather homesick. The obvious parallel that does not work arises out of the juxtaposition of being black or coloured in South Africa and being an outcast in the era of the plague, an illness that makes some victims turn black.

At the heart of the story, always, is Andrea. She seems strangely unable to direct her own life, despite coming over as a thoroughly focussed person. It is almost as if by taking control of situations she becomes a victim of them. Mandla (not Mandela!) is revolting to her as far as first impressions go. A few chapters later she is in bed with him, unable to resist a raw physicality that elsewhere she often decries. She is a complex type with a complex past that has consciously and unconsciously always sought to challenge. She similarly seems to reject South Africa and its unacceptable social system and racist laws, but equally can not get the place out of her system.

Eventually the attempt to marry the parallels simply falls apart, and we are left with a psychological analysis of Andrea’s approach to life. It’s an interesting read, but never really captivates. TimeOut of the front reviews it as “a very good book”. Let’s leave it at that.

[Jeremy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first read this many years ago and on this reading I was astonished at how intense and sexual the writing is, so different from novels of today. A very powerful and absorbing work with vivid prose and descriptions. Watching the Tour de France each year certainly helped with orienting myself to the French landscape and the many towns and areas it is set in. Lots to mull over, especially how one would react in a similar situation. For my part having grown up as a white South African, it simply wasn't my struggle and I left, but for others it may be harder. Strange seeing South Africa referred to as Azania - haven't see or heard that word in decades - why didn't that take off after liberation?

[Matthew Field · Rating 1 out of 5]

It was average at best until the end, when it turns out [spoilers] that it was all a sad white guy's breakup letter. Then it just left me feeling icky

[Steve · Rating 1 out of 5]

Not good when you start skimming after less than 10 pages.