From Publishers Weekly
If any South African writer's fragmentary meditations are worth reading, those by BreytenbachAthe essayist (The Memory of Birds in Times of Revolution, etc.), poet, painter and ex-revolutionary who is still a renegade AfrikanerAare in the front rank. Long based in Paris, he has repeatedly returned to his beloved home territory in the rural Cape Province for brief periods, eliciting this mix of reportage and reflection. Those who know South Africa can fill in the political and geographical context; others may find many passages cryptic. For the former group, Breytenbach is an unsparing observer, unwilling to blame the country's endemic violence on historic racism. True, an opening anecdote notes how "the [white] security dogs" once harassed a clergyman, but threaded through the book is a gruesome blotter of crimes committed by the black and the brown. The contemporaneous passagesAincluding visits with friends and relatives and some utterly South African encounters, as when an old man on the street asks "what race am I?" or when the author meets homeless beach dwellers whose patriotic "installation" reminds him of a graveAcontrast with Breytenbach's more distanced reflections on family forebears. Throughout, the writing is artful and some passages soar: "People are trapped in the sad slanting light washing over the country like ants in treacle." Although not a full-scale view of the New South Africa, this installment in Breytenbach's continuing portrait of self and land offers a multitude of piercing, if idiosyncratic, observations.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
South African poet and novelist Breytenbach (The Memory of Birds in Times of Revolution) presents an unusual memoir composed of seemingly unrelated sketches and memories. Returning to his homeland from France, where he has lived since being released from prison in 1982 (he had been sentenced as a member of the anti-apartheid African National Congress), Breytenbach goes to Bonnieville, his birthplace; the town and its environs trigger a flood of memories about his childhood, especially his connection to nature and the various people who inhabited his world. Making only a few tangential references to race, Breytenbach writes more as mystical lyricist than as a polemicist with an ax to grind. Beautifully written, if somewhat confusing; recommended for major college and public libraries.AAnthony O. Edmonds, Ball State Univ., Muncie, IN
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.