The Promise

by Damon Galgut

as

many of you do,

don’t know him well enough to ask.

Not unlike yourself, perhaps. Now

no need to go into it here, hardly applies in this case,

conversation takes place in the garden behind the church. No, more likely it happens inside the

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,

Whatever you can believe in might be true.

You may have noticed it yourself, protesting

She has a cat curled up on her lap. No, she doesn’t, there is no cat. But allow her a couple of plants at least, growing greenly in their tins on the windowsill.

Liked this book and as a novelist was astounded by the fluency and intimacy of Galgut’s use of third person. Seems reminiscent of other South African greats like Coetzee and Gordimer.