South Africa Books

Set in South Africa in the mid 1970s, and narrated by Marnus Erasmus, the eleven year old son of the well connected and politically influential Afrikaner General Erasmus and his now retired opera singer wife Leonora, the story gives real insight into how one's background and upbringing facilitate firmly held ideals and beliefs.
The Erasmus family plays host to a Mr Smith, the alias given to a visiting undercover Chilean General who sympathises with the Afrikaners' views. Through their interaction with Mr Smith, with their attitude toward their Coloured servants and their behaviour toward the Blacks, we get a very good impression of the Afrikaners' proud belief in their own superiority; however shocking such views may seem today.
But the beauty of the story is in the telling through the eyes of the eleven year old Marnus. Behr convincingly conveys the activities, expressions and innocence of youth, despite the perverted indoctrinated beliefs. His friendship with is class mate Frikkie, something of a bully and problem child at school; and his spiteful relationship with his older sister Ilse are well portrayed. Particularly endearing is the relationship he enjoys with his parents and his undoubted love and respect for them; a love than can even overcome the horrifying discovery Manus makes towards the end involving his father.
Interspersed with the current narrative is an ongoing account from the twenty four year old lieutenant Manus as he serves on the war front.
A beautifully written and revealing account, Behr succeeds in presenting an appealing view of a year in a family's life despite their horrifying attitudes and beliefs.

The beauty of this book is that it is so convincing. It helps you to understand how a sensitive, kind child can get caught in supporting a very wrong system.
There is this little boy, who wants to be loved by his mother and adored by his father, and this is so important for him that he is willing to pay any price for it. And beacuse he loves so much, he is incapable of seeing through their mistakes and finding his own route in life.
And during the book, first slowly and later with deafening speed , the pink curtains over this ideal life of the little Marnus are being torn away, and every time it happens ,Marnus still sticks to his former upbringing and stands loyal by the convictions of his father and mother. O yes, sometimes he sees the cracks in the appearances, as his sister Ilse or his aunt Tannie Karla try to show, but he cannot let the information in. That will treathen his quest for love from his parents. He tries so much... so much to behave that it is heartbreaking. His upbringing was too succesful. He cannot open his eyes,... Not when he sees how destitute Chrisjan , their former servant is, ...Not when he sees the pain of Little Neville, ...not when he sees how his infallible father mistreats his best friend. He cannot allow in his mind the realisation that the goodness of his parents is limited. And still love them despite their failings.
Yet he has learned a little bit when grown up. During the book we meet Marnus again as a grown up man of 26, when he is fighting in the South African Army against rebels on Angolan soil. Everytime the inserts appear you see how the exepriences of being twarted and confused as a child have their repercussion in his adult reactions. And you can see how he is learning and growing, albeit it piecemeal and slowly. "How come you are here as a soldier?", he asks one of his soldiers. It feels that it is one of the first times he turns towards a person of an other colour and asks a direct question about their thoughts. The first time he is really interested. And than also the remorse breaks through, so big that dying seems a reasonable option out of this guilt. Not choosen, just like he was unable to steer his own course as a child, but submitting to fate.

"Memorable for the eye-opening authenticity with which Behr catches the Afrikaner mentality at home ... Behr's novel offers a disturbing confirmation that sincere and kindly people can still be the walking representation of evil" (Sunday Times)

Mark Behr's first time novel "The Smell of Apples" won the prestigious CNA Literary Debut Award and the Eugene Marais Prize. It was a wordlwide success, because it contains one of the most expelling themes in South Africa of the last 30 years.

Behr tells the story through the eyes of the 11-year old Marnus Erasmus who lives with his sister and parents in Cape Town of 1973.Behr links many aspects throughout the story so that the reader gets to know about Marnus's story of initiation, the apartheid system, the sexual mischiefs of his parents and Marnus being a 26-year old soldier in the Angolan Civil War.
But mainly the reader is led through the week of Marnus's life becoming more smart and grown up.He and his sister Ilse especially try to behave like adults when a Chilean general visits the family. This so called Mr.Smith has a symbolic function in the novel, because he is the one(the snake)who steels the apples out the families Garden of Eden.

All in all the novel by Mark Behr is a good introduction for readers who want to inform theirselves and who are interested in the apartheid system and the life of blacks and whites in this period of time.

In his novel "The Smell of Apples" Mark Behr deals with problems of Apartheid by telling the story of a white South-African boy called Marnus Erasmus.
Throughout the book the strong relation to his father becomes obvious. Although Mr. Erasmus is really strict and authoritarian, Marnus regards him as a hero, especially because he is a general in the South African Army. Nevertheless the reader believes that Marnus's father is very considerate concerning his family, but this illusion gets destroyed when Marnus observes that his best friend Frikkie is raped.
The end of the novel is really shocking, but exactly that makes the book so interesting and readable. Telling the story through the eyes of a 10-year old boy makes the story even more dramatic.
I like the story and the characters, although the parts of the novel concerning Marnus's time in war are sometimes hard to understand

After Mark Behr's "The Smell of Apples" had earned best critics by famous newspapers like "The Sunday Times" or "The Daily Telegraph", I decided to get a personal impression of this book.
Indeed the story seemed to be quite interesting from begin on: Behr describes a harmonious family. He writes with with a sense for details and creates a perfect illusion, in which the eleven year-old protagonist lives.
This idyllic picture is first disturbed by the second time-level, which appears always suddenly without connection and ends the same way. Here Marnus is a 26 year-old soldier, who fights in Angola and finally dies.
The contrast of these two levels makes the reader soonly mistrust the harmony of Marnus's life and his family.
Little incidents engross this feeling time after time, although the really tragic end is very surprising anyway.
Mark Behr succeeds in showingthe former or maybe still actual conflict between South African Blacks and Whitesby analyzing the Afrikaner-mentality in an apparently normal Afrikaner-family.
The change of society (military) is told in a detailed and really understandable way. So you can experience the younger South African history by identifying with Marnus, who has to face bad things, but doesn't seem to learn from it anyway.
For the interested reader a real duty!

Tense and involving ? No. An absorbing story? No. A brilliant literary thriller ? No. Life-altering? Absolutely not!

I had expected this to be reasonably good however, given its MAN Booker Prize nomination, instead it left me wondering about the standard of writing of the books that DIDN`T get nominated - they must have been pretty bad ! This is just passable pulp, a paper-thin story involving mostly uninteresting characters and with dark undertones of post-apartheid that I'm guessing may only really be understood by those who have lived and experienced that way of life. The central character (not the Good Doctor by the way) was, to me, a man of little character at all and the only time I found myself interested in anything to do with him was during his brief visit to his rich and powerful father. As for the Good Doctor himself, well, he was initially portrayed as something of an enigma but as the story progressed he became more and more ordinary and his idealistic attempts at nobility proved anti-climactic at best. I believe that the real message of this book, assuming there is one, will only be appreciated by anyone who lives (or has lived) in or near to South Africa.

Damon Galgut's "The Good Doctor (GD)" is arguably the best among last year's Booker nominees, though sadly its classy but staid and measured qualities may not be what critics look for in prize winners. With GD, those acquainted with the works of South African novelists like Nadine Gordimer and J M Coetzee will find themselves in familiar territory. South Africa in transition is a perspective commonly adopted by these writers.

At its highest level, the brooding tension between Frank and Laurence in their unlikely relationship is symbolic of the struggle for supremacy between the forces of old and new. When Laurence's wide-eyed enthusiasm is pitted against Frank's resigned and cynical indifference, the result is cataclysmic, far beyond the reader's imagination. While Galgut's story is touched by death and regret, his vision isn't entirely bleak. When Laurence and Frank swap beds, deadbeat after a long night out, they feel strangely comfortable in each other's beds. Like yin and yang, are they not twin halves of a pupa society emerging from its chrysalis ? Laurence's stubborn perseverance against the stultifying bureaucracy of Dr Ngema's hospital isn't always altruistic. His callous disregard for Frank's plight as he goes in frenzied pursuit of his vision of setting up a village clinic is delirious if not a little mad. In spite of this, it is Laurence who unleashes the momentum that forces Frank to examine what's wrong in his thwarted life - his failed relationships with his father, his ex-wife, Maria, etc, and who is ultimately the catalyst for Frank's transformation.

There are scenes in GD that are truly memorable, like Frank's and Zanele's unexpected nocturnal encounter with the shadowy figure of the Brigadier, the town's former tinpot dictator. Surely Zanele's schoolgirl-like enchantment with her host is Galgut's sideswipe at the veneer thin and uncomprehending sloganeering of armed chaired liberals from afar. Galgut's characterisation is excellent, sharp and realised throughout. The sullenness of Tehogo, the hospital's sole unqualified male nurse, perfectly encapsulates the corruption, rot and decay of South African society. Only the rehearsed platitudes flowing from the mouth of Dr Ngema comes across as false, stagy and predictable. You know what she will say even before she says it. A minor lapse in otherwise great characterisation.

Galgut's poised, unhurried and reasoned prose is an absolute delight. Its greatest strength lies in its ability to reveal many layered truths of a society at its crossroads without hyperbole or false bravura. A thoroughly confident and assured debut from Galgut, who will no doubt join the ranks of great South African novelists.

I came away from this book with that feeling you get leaving a restaurant where the portions just haven't been big enough, and you're hoping no one will see you slip into the fast-food place round the corner. The Good Doctor is strong on characterisation and the tension between the two doctors kept me hooked till the end. However, the whole political backdrop to events is too obliquely rendered. 'Backdrop' is hardly the word; politics has intruded so completely into the lives and personalities of these people that I felt a more detailed description of the social situation and relationships was required to help me fully understand why these characters feel compelled to do the things they do. Perhaps Galgut was writing for a South African audience who could complete his implications by themselves. Perhaps it was the opposite; he kept things deliberately vague to add a universality and timelessness to the appeal of the book. Either way, it doesn't work for me. In summary, a good enough read but lacking a certain something.

POSSIBLE SPOILERS AHEAD: Don't be fooled by the slender size of this book. The writing and content is powerful, packed with haunting images and searing content. On one level, it could be read as a thriller, taut and humid. On another, it appears to be a parable of the repercussions left by apartheid, the inchoate attempts to right centuries of abuse. The hospital, while continuing its administrative operations, with doctors doggedly showing up for duty and logging in rounds, lies indolent, barren and for the most part, unpopulated by the people it is meant to heal. "Not even the seasons changed much. We were too near the tropics for that. There was a dry season & a rainy season, but the temperature that ran through them both didn't rise or fall too much on the chart."

I saw Dr. Eloff's relationship with a native woman, whose true name he never does discover, as the white/native racial issue captured in mineature, his failure to win her over as too much too late. The fact that he only knows her by an Anglicized name is indicative of the entire sequence of events which lead to their tragedy.

very bare in its story telling. i believe this was short listed for the Booker Prize. This book really didn't do anything for me. Its like one of those books you read and then they become part of those untitled stream of books you've read but vaguely remember-kind of like going to a movie that you can barely recall seeing from 2-3 years ago.

Its not badly written but if it had not been assigned reading for class, i would have preferred to read something else. If yu want to read good South African literature, try Gordimer, or Coetzee. Both of whom won the Nobel Prize in literature in recent years. There is no reason why you should or should not read it. It may resonate for those who are south african more.

The characterization is particularly strong so that the characters seem indelible. There is a subtlety to the meaning of the story and the analogy or metaphor it paints of all south africa- young white idealism, blacks who can't forget apartheid, old cynical views, etc. i think this may be the sort of book that touches people differently. SO while i may read it and feel unaffected, it may do something quite different to another.

This is well written but overly long and involved. It's a Swedish police procedural novel that morphs into an International espionage novel about a secret Afrikaner plot to assassinate Nelson Mandela. So, it gets long and involved with lots of characters & subplots. Even after halfway through the book, the author is still introducing new characters and subplots. The series character, Kurt Wallender behaves in an unprofessional, foolish and actually illegal manner in the course of the book & I kept getting annoyed & exasperated with him. Mankell presents the religious views of his Swedish characters with such amazing ignorance that it's difficult to believe that he understands the world-view of his South African characters any better.

This is the first book I have read in the Kurt Wallender series. And, this is not a good place to start. I'm sure Mankell has written something better than this. He seems to be a skilled writer, generally speaking. Maybe this book is just a mis-step.

One of the things I look for when reading a translation, is the smoothness in which the characters move through the narrative parts of the novel. Laurie Thompson has done a superb job in this novel, especially because there are two diametrically dissimilar societies involved in the story; Sweden and Aparteid South Africa.

Mr. Mankell should be quite pleased with the way the book came out because the tension and subtlety of the story is there throughout the story. Unlike a lot of European Crime novels, those from the Scandinavian counties are not very procedurally involved. They tend to be more thoughtful and philosophical and will question the sociological aspects of the situation more than the criminal.

This story, which starts with a man reporting his wife missing, then the finding of the finger of a 'blackman' in an area where the woman might have disappeared, continues to grow in small pieces until we are able to see the whole. It is wonderfully written (and translated) and explains a lot about the society of Sweden as well as South Africa. The one weakness in the book is the "villian" who is very much a "stock" character and very one-dimensional.

Having already read the 4th Wallender book, 'The Man Who Smiled' ('Silkeridderen' or 'The Silk Rider, in Norwegian translation), I now know where Wallender's depression came from. It's developed in the present book. Wallender has character the opposite that of a psychopath, and it's why he rarely carries a pistol.

I though early on that this book is terribly boring. Half the time is spent in aparteid South Africa, where the plot originates and developes. After a while I realized that the description of S. Africa in that era is pretty interesting. In Sweden, unemployed psychopathic former KGB killers for hire play a central role, branching out on a theme began in 'The Dogs of Riga', where the KGB ran the Black Market. A very human, erring Wallender is shown here, he's not always in control of himself and for good reason. After overcoming my initial unpleasant experience with the book, I would now rate it as one of Mankell's best. How much truth is there in the pre-Mandela history presented therein? In any case, the pseudo-history is thought provoking.

This review is based, as usual, on the excellent Norwegian translation 'Den hvite løvinen' by Kari Bolstad. Unfortunately, I have no idea how good or bad the English translations of Mankell are, and will probably never find out because I have but three unread Wallenders in Norwegian left to read, and Mankell is one of my ways to keep up that language. I can say that the three German translations I've read do give the correct sense of Wallender and south Sweden near Ystad.

Detective Kurt Wallander in "The White Lioness" sets out to find the woman, an estate agent, who disappeared coming home from work. Little does he know that the search for her will get him entangled in the international plot, devised to assassinate Nelson Mandela.

The third volume of Henning Mankell's series of crime novels featuring Wallander is probably weaker than the first one, but definitely it is better than "the Dogs of Riga". I usually prefer the good police procedural or detective story in the local setting, not a political crime in the "Bourne identity" style, but this novel captivated me as I read on.
Luise Akerblom set off to see a house for sale on a Friday afternoon. She lost her way and was not seen alive again. Search for her was a puzzle to the whole Ystad police department and Wallander quickly guessed that the investigation would be far from routine. Police discovers a cut of black finger not far from Louise's body and discover that Louise was shot, execution-style. Almost immediately, a house goes up in flames...

The action switches from Sweden to South Africa, where the group of Boer radicals plots the assassination attempt, hoping to undermine the plans to end apartheid. It is 1992, Wallander gets involved in a massive scheme, where Louise Akerblom is but a pawn, but he does not get lost. He also does not lose his sensitivity and philosophical attitude to life. The novel is written in a mild, reflective tone, there is not too much tension despite the obvious weight of the described events, it is somehow grey and even throughout. I have to warn the fans of mystery novels that here there is no search for the killer and no guessing - everything is known very early, so the reader can only follow the problems of the police and wait if the assassination attempt happens (well, from sources other than this novel we know what really happened or didn't happen).

I like Mankell's characters, they are always psychologically intriguing - and "The White Lioness" is no exceprion. Aside from Wallander, the characters of dreadful Konovalenko, a former KGB agent, and the South African mercenary killer Mabasha are very well rendered, and some of the secondary characters, although only sketched, are amazingly real. Mankell's knowledge of Africa is visible from the pages of this novel. South Africa, unstable in 1992, and the general political upheaval in Europe at the beginning of that decade provide a good background for this type of novel. As I said, I enjoyed "The White Lioness" only fractionally less than "Faceless Killers", found what I wanted in it, and it did not discourage me from reading more of Mankell's cycle about Wallander's work.

I liked this book from the start to somewhere around page 250 or 260. But I thought it faltered pretty badly for a hundred pages or so. Fellow police are shocked that a man just seconds from a gun battle for his life is in a frantic frame of mind. Really? A man he's chasing seems to, inexplicably, feel that it's important to get Wallander. Why? Reasons are purported but they seemed very false. It helped the story along but it was faintly ridiculous. There was a little too much sentimentality in stereotypically expected ways.

Very suspenseful and also well-written and perceptive. The steamy atmosphere of a girls' boarding school is rendered with great precision here. I highly recommend.

"There is grease around our mouths, down to our chins; our lips are stained with red wine, our lipstick, smudged, our camouflage, undone."

Everything is indeed undone during a rather somber reunion of middle age women who once attended a small girls' school in an uninhabited corner of South Africa. Brought together by a persuasive letter from their elderly headmistress, an accordion-faced wisp of a woman who desperately needs money in order to save the school from destruction, the women have traveled from all corners of the world; one --- Sheila Kohler, both the author's and character's name --- from as far as America. It turns out the returning women have one thing in common --- they were all members of the school's elite swim team, hand picked by the bronze goddess, Miss G. Why they are the only ones chosen for this reunion is a mystery that is unraveled by the end of the novel, which swings back and forth from present to past until the harrowing conclusion.

The swim team, as well as the rest of the students, all live in near isolation at this school in the middle of the parched desert sands of South Africa. Without mothers to sing them to sleep, stroke their feverish faces, soothe their tremulous tears, these girls turn to the only woman they can find --- not the withered headmistress or the embittered biology teacher --- but the most female, the most headstrong, courageous, outrageous, beautiful woman, the one in charge of selecting the girls for the swim team, the almighty Miss G. But just as fast as she selects them, she throws them away and picks new ones when the old disappoint her. The final 12 girls she selects are the same ones invited to the reunion 40 years later. All attend except two, but there is still someone missing. The luminous and distant Fiamma, whose mysterious disappearance years ago haunts the school and continues to eat away at the swim team members.

Fiamma was the golden girl, literally --- her long flaxen strands stretched out and curled like a Princess's. Indeed that's what she supposedly was, born from a common mother and a regal Italian father. From the beginning, the girls were in awe of this seemingly perfect specimen, her delicate milky white skin, large almost clear blue eyes, willowy limbs, and long plaited golden hair. Maybe the other girls would have embraced her if she even pretended to care what they thought --- but she didn't. Always aloof, reserved, and mysterious, Fiamma didn't indulge in their games or secrets, and the girls despised this. It's not until later that they wonder if she was only waiting to be asked. All the adults, however, were enamored by Fiamma's luminosity and heritage, including the headmistress and especially Miss G, who after seeing her streamlined body gliding through the water like a sleek vessel, bribed her with sweets to join the swim team. Fiamma reluctantly consented and became the fastest girl on the team --- and Miss G's object of desire.

The book most often hovers in the past, but returns sporadically to the present, always through the collective voice of the girls in what writer's refer to as first person plural narration, a deceptively familiar voice, which always keeps the reader an arm's length distance away from the true inner thoughts of the characters. Because of this somewhat vague narration, when the reader finally pieces together the puzzle at the end and the truth crashes over like a wave, there is a moment of "How could I have not seen this coming?"

There are secrets hidden in every sentence of this haunting and at times horrifying book --- secrets that you aren't aware of until you reach the final pages. It's an ending that makes you pause, and then flip back through to see what you missed the first time around. The tautly told story with its tropical backdrop of sterile humidity is in great contrast to the young women's budding fecundity. Fiamma's fate is sealed from the first page, but to find out what happened, you have to make the journey with her and the rest of the girls who have returned to their school, not entirely of their own free will, to confront the past and to ensure the school a future.


--- Reviewed by Dana Schwartz

Compare this with Lord of the Flies, but with girls instead of boys. Set in South Africa and told in Sheila Kohler's inimitable elegant and dark style of writing, it's the story of a swim team in a remote boarding school, a story in which the girls' "coming of age" doesn't turn out as expected.
Cracks is full of memorable characters, including an Italian princess, but most memorable is the shadowy 1st person narrator who somehow manages to be within the story but without at the same time.

Wonderful writing.
Creepy story.

Some other reviews gave too much of the plot away. There are things the reader should find out for themselves...like the incredible sensual imagery evoked by the prose. The sights, sounds and in particular, the smells of summer season on the veldt create such a three-dimensional setting for this novel. The headlong rush of young girls into puberty is augmented by the setting, the isolation and frustrated lives of their teachers. One thing that puzzles after the book is read, why is there so much leniency allowed at an all girls' school in the mid-fifties? Having not attended such a school in South Africa, but having attended one in the US at the same time and at approximately the same age as these girls, I find it incomprehensible that they were allowed so much freedom.

Reading this book was like seeing several familiar elements mixed together in a new way. Lord of the Flies meets Picnic at Hanging Rock meets Walkabout meets the Wildfire Club. I found Kohler's portait of girl-crushes at a remote boarding school evocative and compelling. She uses setting well - the stiffling African heat followed by chaotic rain. I was also intrigued by the 2nd person plural narration, and by the fact that one of the characters shared the author's name. However! The ending - oh the ending. I didn't believe it for a second, not for those characters. It was as if the author felt she had to have something appalling up her sleeve for the book to be worth it or didn't believe that less graphic betrayals can be deeper and more believable.

Ultimately, I found this an intriguing novel, but I wouldn't wholeheartedly recommend it because of the disappointing ending.

When I first saw this book in the store, I thought it was about Flash Gordon. It wasn't until half-way through the book, that I realized this book had nothing to do with the eighties film I saw as a kid. So uh, I dunno, it's not that bad. Flashman is not very nice, but he scores a lot with the ladies, and that's pretty cool.

Wonderful story as usual. A 19th Century Forest Gump (a little brighter but more cowardly and more lecherous) finds himself at the center of history's most important events hobnobbing with the memorable charcters and real life men of greatness. Don't miss it!

Flashman is in cracking form again, this time avoiding the big campaigns, instead getting mixed up in a minor yet significant skirmish -- the attempt by abolitionist John Brown to launch a raid into the slave territory of the southern U.S.

As with the best Flashman tales, the narrative is perfectly convincing, historically meticulous, funny, bawdy and thoughtful in turn. With less action of the military kind in this instalment of the Flashman Papers, we are treated to rather more introspection, which works well, since the central theme of the book is the difficult one of slavery and exploitation. There is a slower pace, more intrigue, and less randy cavorting than in some other works in the canon, but that doesn't detract from another brilliantly written and absorbing tale.

George MacDonald Fraser is a superb action writer who never loses his sense of humor as he moves his readers through great historical events. And in FLASHMAN AND THE ANGEL OF THE LORD, Fraser takes you into the moment as Flashman takes the lead in John Brown's assault on Harper's Ferry, witnesses the drunken and angry siege of the engine house, and is on hand for the final bloody attack by the marines. This is my sixth Flashman novel. And throughout, Fraser's work as an action writer is absolutely first-rate.

Fraser also has a knack for developing his narrative so that Flashman exposes the reader to all sides of an issue--in this case, the abolitionist, pro-slavery, and government's perspective on John Brown. And, he is adept at moving Flashman in and out of the historical event so that the reader has the best possible view.

In ANGEL OF THE LORD, this skill is most apparent as Fraser moves Flashman out of Brown's raiding party, into the body of siege, and back to Brown's beleaguered band for its final futile defense. On reflection, Flashman's movements during the raid are improbable. But Fraser makes them seem plausible, and even character-driven, as he presents a complete historical tableau to his readers. With this talent, Fraser becomes a fine historical novelist as well.

In ANGEL OF THE LORD, Fraser also provides a thoughtful essay in the first appendix where he wrestles with the character and exploits of John Brown, who he elsewhere calls "the most violent and ruthless abolitionist in the country." In this appendix, Fraser acknowledges that Brown was "devious, foolish, vain, unscrupulous, and irresolute in crisis." But he concludes: "He is part of history and historic legend, and if what he tried to do was not heroic, then the word has no meaning." For me, this appendix added a lot.

At the same time, there are two negatives in ANGEL OF THE LORD. First, Fraser takes 50 pages to insert Flashman into ante-bellum America. This section works but I found it slow and creaky and very self-referential. The section might not work for readers who have missed Flash for Freedom! (Flashman).

Second, there are many references to details in other Flashman books, which this fan of the series often found obscure. This, I suppose, is a byproduct of Fraser's intentions. Certainly, Fraser intends, and is successful, in his effort to entertain. But, he also intends to explore great historical events and their personages. But, what happens when Flashy makes a reference to his own fictional interaction with a historical figure, such as Bismarck? Well, I remember Bismarck in history from Royal Flash (Flashman). But I've often lost the fictional context that makes Flash's comment witty.

Likewise, I'm befuddled when Flash refers to many of Fraser's secondary characters, probably because Fraser has created them to move Flashman in and out of events, not really to live beyond the narrative. Admittedly, there are a few memorable characters in the series, such as Captain Springs. But many of his fictional characters, even the prurient Elsbeth, are a little gray. (Of course, I haven't yet read Flashman's Lady (Flashman).) Still, these references do cloud the work.

Regardless, FLASHMAN AND THE ANGEL OF THE LORD is a worthy installment in this terrific series and a great pick-me-up for anyone caught in the doldrums.

For those of you who aren't familiar with his exploits, please allow me to introduce you to Sir Harry Flashman, literature's most unrepentant scoundrel. Flashman (whom some may remember as the bully from Tom Brown's Schooldays), is the hero of twelve (as of 2007) novels by the literate and witty George MacDonald Fraser. The setting for these novels is the Nineteenth Century, a time filled with countless skirmishes and disasters, with Flashman seemingly involved in most of them. Fraser, in an explanatory note, says it best:

"From the day of his expulsion from Rugby School in the late 1830s, Flashman the man fulfilled the disgraceful promise of Flashman the boy; toadying bounder and bully matured into the cowardly profligate and scoundrel, who, by chance and shameless opportunism, became one of the most renowned heroes of the Victorian age, unwilling leader of the Light Brigade, fleeing survivor of Afghanistan and Little Big Horn, tarnished paladin of Crimea and the Mutiny, and cringing chronicler of many another conflict, disaster, and intrigue in which he bore an inglorious but seldom unprofitable part."

Flashman's memoirs were purportedly discovered in an attic in Leicestershire in 1965, half a century after his death at the age of 93. Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, the tenth packet of the "Flashman Papers" to have been edited and published by Fraser, chronicles Sir Harry's second trip to America. The last time around, he was sold as a slave, worked as a plantation foreman, met a young congressman named Abraham Lincoln and smuggled an escaped slave via the Underground Railroad. This time, through misadventure, coincidence, and the consequences of his own cowardice and womanizing, he is forced into acting as John Brown's right hand man, training Brown's followers for their disastrous 1859 raid on Harper's Ferry, the kickoff to the Civil War. Flashman, incidentally, served on both sides during that conflict, the details of which I can only hope will be revealed in a forthcoming volume.

In this age of political correctness, Flashman's bawdy adventures are a breath of fresh air. These books deserve every ounce of the praise they've received over the years---the only drawback of being a Flash-fan is enduring the long intervals between installments. Each novel stands by itself, but if you read one, you'll want to read them all. Sample one and join the ranks of rabid Flashmaniacs all around the world.

This is a very engrossing story, and I did not have much of a problem reading additional information (not directly related to the tragedy of castaways) about the careers of those who came to grief in Pondoland in 1782, the society in England and Bengal/Calcutta from which they were drawn, and the culture of local Africa's clans with which they interacted and came into conflict. History of the first Dutch settlement in Cape Town area is also interesting, shedding some light on early beginning of South Africa country. Positively, this historical book is in the same league as "Skeletons of the Zahara" and "Wreck of the Medusa". How different were dwellers of the East Coast from the mean tribes in the West Coast of Africa where slavery was not unknown even before arrival of English slave ships! Author points out several times about general hardship of the seamen in this Nelson's era, when they preferred to be forced/enlisted on Indiaman or slave ship instead of being drafted by British Navy.
Very good read and not because of the bargain price.

Caliban's shore is a well written story & worth the read. I don't want to give away details - I would rather just say that if you like true historical adventures this book is worth getting. In a similar vein I would say "Skeleton's on the Zahara" is slightly better & "In the Heart of the Sea" is better still. If you like this type of book get all three.

I really can't add much to the glowing reviews of this superb book. Suffice it to say that the author, Stephen Taylor, uses a shipwreck on the Transkei coast as a springboard to reconstruct an entire world -- the world of 18th century seafaring, Pondo tribal life, the politics of the East India Company, European racial and sexual phobias, and more. His writing is flawless, whether describing African scenery or the interior lives of long-dead people. "Caliban's Shore" is a small masterpiece of historical and imaginative recreation. Six stars.

If you like shipwreck stories from the sailing era, consider this a 'must.' Not because it is so well written. It's a workman like job but Philbrick's "In the Heart of the Sea" wins that prize. Not because it is so well researched. It is well researched, to the point where it could do with a bit less speculation, especially at the end. Rather, this is not your usual 'cast out to sea in a little boat for weeks on end' story. Here you have over 100 people in the late 18th century, almost the entire crew and passengers, safely deposited on Africa's southeastern shore near fresh water and a native village . . . and only a few survive. How can that be? Read the book.

Stehpen Taylor has done a masterful job researching and putting together the sad, tragic tale of the Grosvenor and the fate of its survivors. In addition, I found his place-setting and contextual storytelling regarding Indian society, the British mercantile economy, and the spice trades around the late 1700s to be exemplary.

What I liked best about this book is Taylor's engrossing writing - he has written a compelling narrative, bringing to life each of the many characters encountered in this lost world, and effectively organizing a massive research project to collect it all together.

For my money, Caliban's Shore is certainly in the top pantheon for shipwreck/seafaring tales of historical misadventure, and one I would highly recommend to anyone who enjoys this type of non-fiction.

To the casual observer Africa looks to be the "heart of darkness' or the "dark continent" found in Joseph Conrad. From the bits of news and information gleaned from the Western press, it would appear that the entire continent is a cauldron of ethnic diversity simmering under the heat of individual quasi-nation states that could erupt for any reason at any time. "Tribalism" becomes a codeword for inaction, since it would appear to be useless to act with all the ancient hatreds.

This quick diagnoses and prescriptions for non-action have allowed Africa to flounder in a disconnection from the global economic, political and social revolutions of the twentieth century. Bill Berkeley operates on the crazy notion that one should look into the issues facing Africa before making such judgments. Instead he meets individuals in and connected with Africa. In six chapters he finds two basic theses: first, the individual actions are affected by what he terms, the "big man"; second, the individual actors seek their own ends through means that may hurt or help other actors

One example is Zaire. In Zaire, Berkeley's Big Man is Mobutu who uses the idea of anarchy and instability to maintain his own tyranny, a theme throughout through out the work. Mobutu uses the ethnic differences as a "wedge issue" to divide his subjects and through a slight of hand pitting Kaisans against Katagans. This divide and rule allowed Mobutu to continue his kleptocracy long after it had outlived its Cold War uses.

Berkeley reports his experiences in Africa. Further, he analyzes the strengths and weaknesses of the "oh, it's Tribal" attitude. While not letting the US or the Soviets completely off the hook, Berkeley sees a larger picture in each case. In Rwanda he sums it as "the rule of the gun over the rule of law." While at times he tends to under-analyze, such as whether Museveni's point on ethnicity versus class is valid, Berkeley is still open to interpretations and does not see anything as the good guys versus the bad guys. (His look into the Tutsi rebels in Rwanda and the violence perpetrated by the ANC bares this out). The fact is that problems in Africa are not "just tribal." Instead, he tries to look to qui bono. If the Zulus are fighting with the ANC instead of the Apartheid regime; qui bono? This is a must read for anybody interested in Africa or political movements in the world in general.

The Graves Are Not Yet Full disappoints all the more because it comes so close at times to being a good book. Berkeley clearly has the experience and writing talent to give real insight into the convulsions of post-independence Africa. Instead of doing that, he's let his affection for Africans trick him into absolving African societies of any role in the continent's endless bloodshed. It's all because of white greed, and a few totally unnatural Africans who became the pawns of foreigners.

For anybody who's actually inclined to believe that white people have a monopoly on greed, cynicism or callousness, Berkeley's gripping accounts of his own encounters with African thuggery give the lie to his thesis. By the end of the book, a drearily prolix effort to misunderstand Mangosuthu Buthelezi and the Zulu Inkatha movement, Berkeley has lost all his conviction, and meanders off into a childish jeremiad on Buthelezi's (extremely understandable) hostile responses in an interview.

The realities of tribal animosity must be why, despite his subtitle, Berkeley never gets around to asking a single African how she or he sees her or his own and rival tribes: they'd've said the wrong thing, and Berkeley certainly comes across as too honest to lie about that. He doesn't want to believe in tribalism, so he doesn't ask or talk about tribes. And as Cashew Son's review points out, he's not intellectually honest enough to look at some of the bloodiest African conflicts, because they wouldn't fit his cockeyed theory.

So the book's almost, but not quite, a waste of time--the forty per cent or so that represents Berkeley's own adventures and the history of Liberia make it worth buying for anybody who wants to start understanding Africa.

(Just in case I might be taken for some sort of closet apologist for Western dealings with Africa, let me say that what particularly infuriates me is the way this sort of gross exaggeration of Western responsibility for Africa's woes lets the globalizers and neo-imperialists paint all their detractors as loonies. Nothing helps the Bad Guys like letting your emotions lead you to make wild accusations.)

This book is first of all an excellent bit of research by the author. In each of the African nations he profiles, he goes to great lengths to interview the major and minor figures in each crisis, in order to get as full a picture as possible of the situations. He also fully seeks out US officials who work in the region. Unfortunately, where he loses me sometimes (though not all the time) is to pass the blame back on to outsiders for the atrocities committed during each conflict. I do agree that many of the dictators and regimes in question actively sought to use chaos as a weapon against their enemies, but rather than put the blame squarely on the Taylors, Bashirs, and Does that enacted this policy, he goes back to blame the legacy of colonials or US support for these regimes.

This legacy and American support for crackpot dictators is deplorable, but there comes a point in any society when its people must stand up and take responsibility for their own actions. That means owning up to the killing. . .not matter who sold you the guns or the machetes.

The Graves are not yet Full: Race, Tribe and Power in the Heart of Africa

Atlantic Monthly correspondent Bill Berkeley has written a thorough and provocative account of the relationship among racial, tribal, and ethnic interests in African culture.
Drawing on the Rwanda genocide and the recent famine and mass starvation in Darfur, Berkeley says these developments are not so much the result of "age old hatreds" as they are the consequence of a history of tyranny going back to Leopold II of Belgium and the failure of the international community to focus on Africa except as an extension of the Cold War.

"For four decades U.S. policy toward Africa was driven almost entirely by our competition with the Soviet Union. Africans scarcely existed except as strategic pawns in the great global game. Democratic and Republican administrations alike defined their options narrowly: they seldom gave priority to initiatives that did not serve U.S.
Strategic interests. They often overlooked, excused, rationalized ---and bankrolled-- wanton repression, injustice, corruption and economic mismanagement by unelected
Leaders who were willing to oppose Moscow." (Berkeley, P. 78)

The CIA bears responsibility for much of Africa's problems, Berkeley says, and the media is to blame as well. "The press bears a measure of responsibility for this attitude. There is a school of thought that the overwhelming emphasis on bad news creates an unrepresentative image of Africa. There may be some merit in this. My own view is that a more serious, and sinister problem is not the quantity of bad news but the quality." (Berkeley, P.88)

Finally, he says, Africans bear responsibility for their actions. He says there is a culture of Corruption where everything is for sale and everybody has his price.

In all a gloomy, but well-researched, look at the problems of a continent which one ninth of the world's population calls home.

Four Stars: ****

I liked this book, more because it shed several spotlights on how several things happened that have contributed to past and present conditions in Africa. Much scorn should be rained down on several generations of leaders of the so called industrialized world for prepetuating the continued patronage of really bad people who seem to hold no regard for thier fellow man outside of thier clan or tribe. How divide and conquer is used repeatedly. When the cold war ended, Africa was suddenly abandoned as a front and more support for bad people was prepetuated. Five areas that continually recieve attention for good and bad, mostly bad are the key hotspots, we have to the northeast, Sudan and Somalia, though not much mention of the latter here, in the southwest; Liberia and all of the hate and discontent that a sucession of this leaning and that leaning despots created. In the centre, we have Rwanda, Zaire( the Congo) and Uganda and the very bottom, South Africa. Much of the cause for many of these turmoils seems to be a result of a half hearted attempt to extract the wealth from the country, and leave the mess for some one else to deal with, a general misunderstanding of history and the legacy of colonialism past and present.

The book is incredibly well researched, yet manages to keep it all organized and interesting. If you want to learn more about Robert Mugabe and his rule over Zimbabwe, this is the book for you.

This is a super-readable book about the career of Zimbabwean President Robert Mugabe, whose corruption, brutality, and paranoia have wrecked Zimbabwe's democratic institutions and have brought the country to the brink of economic ruin. The book is refreshingly free of cant, and the author has a sharp eye for political grotesqueries, which have abounded in post-independence Zimbabwe. My only complaint (and hence the rating of 4 stars) is the lack of footnotes or any real analysis of the social or economic currents underlying Zimbabwean politics. Instead, journalist Meredith is content to chronicle events newspaper-style.

~Our Votes, Our Guns~ chronicles the tyrannical rule of Robert Mugabe, from his heyday as a revolutionary guerilla who was captured an imprisoned to a victorious leader in what was initially to be a coalition government in the 1970's with Ian Smith's Rhodesian white colonials, the various black factions, and Mugabe's ZANU party in unity. Recently he said he could be a "black Hitler ten-fold" in a political speech. By the early 1980's, Mugabe eschewed the idea of a coalition government, opting instead for total consolidation of rule by his party. Mugabe through Machiavellian manipulations managed to scapegoat the political opposition in the public eye. Thereafter, he justified purges ostensibly for the purposes of stifling his contrived threat of a coup d'etat. Mugabe's violence obviously only served to foment political opposition-both white and black-and browbeaten white farmers gradually dropped the conciliatory posturing as their farms were confiscated and family members were murdered. In his approach to counter-insurgency, Mugabe boldly proclaimed to his opposition, "We have to deal with this problem quite ruthlessly," with regards to resistance in Matebeland, so "Don't be surprised if your relatives get killed in the process..." Grim reports of Ian Smith's Rhodesian Apartheid regime knocking off guerillas pail in comparison to the horrors unleashed by Mugabe. Millions have been killed as a result of Mugabe's rule.

Robert Mugabe has secured his power base through a corrupt scheme of patronage to cronies while bribing armed cadres of murderous mobs to crush political opposition. Mugabe literally despises whites, but also shows his hatred for black minority opposition in his own nation. Espousing the familiar Afro-Marxist rhetoric of a demagogue dictator, he seemingly justifies any means requisite to purge his nation of the 'evil' vestiges of capitalism and colonialism. Mugabe rules with fanatical zeal and has morbid remarks in reference to his policies of forced famine and mass-murder, which are eerily reminiscent of Pol Pot. He offers no apologies for his cruel measures designed to solidify his rule. He has plundered the nation, stripped it of its productive capacity, and his made zealous efforts to confiscate and redistribute private farmland, which has utterly devastated the economy of Zimbabwe. He has reduced the productivity of a once largely self-sufficient agricultural nation to a destitute backwater republic. Besides utilization of political violence, Mugabe, much like the warlords of Somalia, holds onto power precariously by controlling the distribution of foreign aid and humanitarian relief through his spoils system of patronage. In doing so, he buys support from a loyal cadre of cohorts.

Recently, the fashionable thing amongst the media establishment and policymakers in the West-particularly Leftist cadres in the UK has been to tacitly support and praise Mugabe's efforts for land reform while conveniently ignoring the horrors of his regime perpetrated against both whites and blacks. The mass-media never does specials on ethnic cleansings in Zimbabwe. And unfortunately political correctness of leftist journalists in the West tends to extol leaders like Robert Mugabe (while ignoring his criminal track record as mass-murdering despot.) The one smug thing I really dislike about liberal journalist Martin Merideth is his initial enthusiasm for the good intentions of Mugabe when he first came to power... He acts as if socialism and anti-colonial wars of national liberation are all noble and admirable, but Mugabe simply came along and betrayed the principle. The communist bloc-the Soviets, Chinese, and North Koreans-launched anti-colonial propaganda campaign to fuel insurgent revolutions fusing nationalism with socialism in an effort to build a pro-communist, anti-Western bloc in the Third-World. Robert Mugabe and Nelson Mandela were among their minions. The red crown jewels in this endeavor included Ethiopia, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, and Zaire. The pictures documenting his torture and mass-murder at various web sites are repugnant to the human eye and conscious. Yet those supposed champions of human rights, the UN and IMF, continue to bolster his regime with aid. Meanwhile, in the Western media turn a blind eye to the atrocities when reporting anything on Zimbabwe and only gloss over the need for the West to help arbitrate Mugabe's land reform proposals. Land reform in Neo-Marxist newspeak means confiscation and redistribution of private property. Mugabe's legacy is one of criminal mass-murderer who destroyed his country's economy while murdering and starving 'his people.' He is a murderous thug whose judgment may never come from some tribunal, but will when he meets his maker.

Many outside observers naively approach southern African politics and international relations with the idea that fighting is between blacks and whites. They ignore abuses by black revolutionaries against their own blood kin, but why should it be any less acceptable when perpetrated against whites? Nelson Mandella, the media darling, was a violent communist terrorist, but doesn't get exposed by the Western media, but rather is heralded as a patron saint. There is a book by a black clergyman Sipo Mzimela tied to the ANC opposition, which documents the murderous ANC-perpetrated terrorism and corrupt assent of Mandella called Marching to Slavery, which may be found on a used book search since it is conveniently out-of-print. Despite exposing Mugabe, Martin Meredith cannot bring himself to trample the sacred cow of Mandella's fictious legacy as a humanitarian hero in his other book.

A nice book about the kleptacracy of present day Zimbabwe. Robert Mugabe took a jewell of a country and turned it into a failed state. He has done this so he can enrich his family, friends, and supporters at the expense of the vast Zimbabwean people. Meredith describes the liberation of Rhodesia and the early promise of Mugabe's presidency. After the honeymoon, Mugabe gave jobs to his supporters and enriched his party, the ZANU-PF. Latest developments in Zimbabwe continue to show the mass exodus of the few remaining whites, and the poverty of the majority population. Mugabe enriches himself and his supporters, but leaves the rest of the population to fend for itself.

I couple of comments about what some of the other reviewers said. Zimbabwe is no longer a democracy. Hitler took Weimar Germany and made it into a Fascist state. Ferdinand Marcos took the Philippines and turned it into a tin horn dictatorship. Just because a country has some trappings of democracy, it is not a democracy. Remember the Soviet Union had elections, and they were not free. Zimbabwe may have elections and a somewhat free judiciary, but it is not a democracy any more than Rhodesia was a democracy. Mugabe is showing traits of a Fascist or Communist Dictator (i.e. hero worship of the leader). Mugabe is also showing signs of his racist nature. He often berates the former white leader Ian Smith, but Mugabe's leadership (or dictatorship) is worse. At least Smith gave up power, Mugabe wants to retain power forever.

Another comment made by another reviewer is that the West should not show debt forgiveness to certain Third World countries. I quite agree, why subsidize Zimbabwe so we can enrich the kleptocrats of the ZANU-PF and Mugabe's family. The West should have learned its leason with Mobutu and Zaire. Don't give Zimbabwe a dime until ZANU-PF and Mugabe are gone.

This is a good book from a great author. I am reading his latest work about the Fate of Africa, and this is a nice companion read.

This book puts into context better than anything I have read the major tragedy that has been occurring in Zimbabwe for over twenty years. The parallels with the Congo (as covered in the excellent book "In the footsteps of Mr Kurtz" on Mobutu's kleptocracy in Zaire) are matched here by the story of how a wealthy and well developed colony after a crippling war of independence came under Mugabe's control.

The saddest aspect is while matters started very promisingly with the country ripe for a muti racial experiment and very similar to South Africa, the early use of force to remove tribal opposition was then applied unremmitingly to the white minority with fatal long term effects on the country's economy.

That inequality existed and changes were needed on land distribution were clear - the redistribution when it occurred was done in such a manner that not only were the whites permanently alienated but the corruption and lack of planning as to what was to replace has had fatal consequences with mass poverty, unrest and a wealthy autocratic elite destroying the future prospects for the poorer native populace of the country.

The control of every facet by Mugabe's Zanu Party whenever challenged has been met with violence from local opposition using North Korean trained cadres to outright intimidation of the judiciary, one of the real heroes in this story.

A very well told and researched history.

Paul D. Cohn has written a fine novel that details a unique period of history. "Sao Tome's" complex and intriguing characters seem to walk off the pages, into your heart, and take you on a compelling journey of sacrifice and bravery. This thoroughly researched novel provides praiseworthy insight into the Medieval cultures, politics, and people of Europe and Africa in the late 1400s.

"Sao Tome" begins with the kidnapping of Jewish children from their Lisbon synagogue by the Portuguese Crown and Catholic Church and their shipment to Sao Tome Island off the West-African Equator. There the children are expected to convert to the Catholic faith, work as virtual slaves on the Crown sugar plantations, and participate in the growing African slave trade. The main character, a young teenager named Marcel Saulo, rebels against the slave trade and defies the island's church and governance. Through many trials, he becomes a successful farmer and mason, yet always struggles to hold on to his Jewish traditions and mitigate the horrors of slavery. His family grows and prospers despite many tragedies.

As the reader nears the end of his journey to Sao Tome, Saulo pays a terrible price for his opposition to slavery. Even so, "Sao Tome" culminates with a hopeful and remarkable conclusion, healing important bonds that were shattered years before when he was kidnapped in Lisbon.

"Sao Tome" by Paul D. Cohn is a page-turner with compelling characters and a great story line. The setting, people, and events in 15th century Portugal and Africa came to life from the moment I opened the book and found myself caught in the story. Then, I couldn't put the book down, and read late into the evening. Next, trying to sleep, I could not get the characters out of my mind and kept wondering what would happen next.

The main character, a Jewish kid of fifteen or so, Marcel Saulo, gets kidnapped along with his friends and sent to work on the Crown sugar plantations on the island of Sao Tome. After many terrifying and potentially deadly experiences he becomes a successful sugar farmer. Then he opposes the growing slavery activity on the island and becomes embroiled in the regional politics. I like the way the author keeps the reader in touch with events in Europe (which eventually affect Tome) through letters with his family.

The book's ending is a genuine surprise, although it remarkably fits in with the story.

"Sao Tome" is a thoroughly enjoyable novel, and in addition is full of informative history. I definitely recommend it.

This work of historical fiction, which is based upon actual events, was an eye-opener for me, as I was unaware that in the late fifteenth century, while Spain was at the height of its Inquisition, Portugal was also targeting its Jewish population. Its methods were insidious, as Jewish children were forcibly removed from their families, forced to convert to Catholicism, and then shipped to Sao Tome, an island off the African equator. There, those that survived the perilous journey were forced to work in the Portuguese government sponsored sugar plantations under abominable conditions.

The author based his book upon the Saulo Chronicle, written by a Marcel Saulo in 1491. The chronicle covers a period of five years, and it is this document that forms the basis for the events in this book, which begins with the sundering of Marcel Saulo and his sister, Leah, from their family. The story describes the heartbreak of man's inhumanity to man. Set against a backdrop of religious fanaticism and slavery, it is a story that, while well-researched, is hampered by one dimensional characters and dialogue that leaves something to be desired in terms of skillful writing. Still, for those who are interested in reading about the Diaspora, this book provides an introduction into a little known chapter of history.

"Sao Tome" was on our alternate list for our Sr. Lit. class, and at first a few people read it. After word got around, pretty soon almost everyone was reading it, and it was immensely popular. It's about this teen-age Portuguese kid who gets kidnapped and sent to this African island to slave away on the sugar plantations. It moves really fast, the writing is excellent, and you can't get the characters out of your mind. By that I mean, you can't wait to see what happens next. Talk about hair-raising! And there is a lot of interesting history here. I mean, things were so bad back then (1491) that you wonder how we ever got civilized. Or did we? Just take Bagdad, set if back 500 years, and substitute sugar for oil, and BLANGG! you got "Sao Tome." They've really got to make a movie out of this one.

A Compelling Historical Journey

Several reviewers have preceded me in extolling the merits of "Sao Tome's" fast-moving story, the lyrical quality of the writing, and its compelling characters and narrative. While I endorse and second these accolades, including the reviewers' excellent recanting of "Sao Tome's" storyline, I want to focus on the important history presented in the novel, history that tangibly takes the reader into the world of Medieval Africa, the slave and sugar trades, and the politics of the time. The wholesale African slave trade begins in the late 15th century on this small, West-African island and spreads throughout Europe and America, and all is driven by the commerce of sugar and the greed and connivance of the Portuguese, Spanish, and the Catholic hierarchy of the time. Author Paul D. Cohn masterfully weaves this complex history into an exciting tale.

At the time, Portugal was master of the European side of the North and South Atlantic, but with Spain hot on her heels, and sugar--grown marginally in Italy, North Africa, and Madera--was a rich-man's commodity. When sugar culture on Sao Tome (and later in Brazil) produced "sugar for the masses," the demand went sky-high, including the addition of sugar as an ingredient for grain beer, transforming the beer of the time from a casual, low-alcohol (less than 1%) beverage, to a drink with a significant kick. Also during this time, refugee Jews from Spain, trying to escape the growing inquisitions there, were streaming into Portugal. The Catholic Portuguese felt these refugees--particularly the children--were ripe pickings for conversion and shipment to Sao Tome. Seems there was a little problem on the island: malaria was killing one-third of the Europeans within the first year of their arrival, and the Portuguese had discovered that the African slaves were somewhat more immune to malaria. Sugar agriculture required massive manpower, and the slave coast of Africa had plenty of people to supply. Meanwhile, the Jews if Iberia had become the pawns of Crown and Church politics, and the kidnapped Jews of Sao Tome became both willing and unwilling participants in slavery and sugar farming.

Enter Spain's alliance with Portugal and churchly politics: With discovery of coastal Brazil and its immense capacity for growing sugar, the wholesale slave trade was born. Slaves and sugar became the "petroleum industry" of the time--slaves shipped west, sugar shipped east. And the Portuguese controlled the slave trade by using Sao Tome Island as the off-shipment point for Africans destined for both The Americas and Europe. The Church created the "Diocese of Sao Tome," thus corrupting the African mainland into participating in slave commerce.

And there you have it, a compelling, must-read historical novel of slavery, greed, commerce, and bravery, "Sao Tome, Journey to the Abyss-- Portugal's Stolen Children."

Doris Lessing is a writer of many locales and many genres. Of British parentage, she was born in Iran when it was called Persia. At age six she moved to Zimbabwe when it was called Rhodesia, and in 1949 she moved to London where she has remained ever since. In her 83 years, she's written over thirty books: realistic novels, science fiction novels, and some that she calls "inner-space novels." She's written plays, an opera libretto for Phillip Glass, and an autobiography.
Her latest realistic novel, The Sweetest Dream, begins in the early 1960s, and concerns Frances Lennox, a forth-something actress who has turned to journalism out of financial need. She has two adolescent sons. Their London house serves as a crash pad for teenagers with family troubles, so prevalent in the `60s. Frances' husband, Johnny, has abandoned her and the boys in order to pursue his own ambitions within the Communist Party. The story traces the gradual growth of all of the characters, youth and adult, into the late 1980s. Some remain in London, others go to the States, and still others wind up in Africa. Halfway through, the novel shifts direction and concerns itself with Sylvia, one of the flophouse kids, a once-anorexic waif who, having become a doctor, devotes her life to helping poor people with AIDS in Africa.
But the novel's first half deals mainly with London's Swinging Sixties. Lessing, herself once a `60s communist radical, is now deeply critical of the movement. In an interview with Salon, she has said, "We were going to have justice, equality, fair pay for women, cripples, blacks -- everything, in a very short time. This nonsense was believed by extremely intelligent people." She's still incredulous at the current political correctness that has survived since the `60s. The Sweetest Dream seems to ask: did we really want our society torn down and rebuilt again by twenty-one year olds?
The sweetest dream that Lessing writes about is the dream of altruism, our dream of helping people, of serving others, of actively doing our parts to create a better, even a perfect world. What Lessing adds to the pot is that the character of altruism leans greatly upon the all-too-human personalities that practice it. Differing temperaments create different brands of social idealists.
Frances, for example, is the Good Mother whose instinct is to help wayward youth, to clothe, shelter and feed them. Her altruism falls naturally like rain, she cannot help but help. Her weakness is that she cannot say no. She is often taken advantage of and occasionally trounced all over. She has altruism with all heart and no head.
Her husband, Johnny, is altruism with all head and no heart. He is a young, charismatic Communist Party idealist whose dream is to unite the workers into an ideal society in which no one will suffer anymore. If it means sacrificing some individuals who get in the way, then so be it. Like many western European and American communists of his time, he remains in denial of Stalin's wholesale atrocities. Not to mention that, while he's out fighting to tear down the bourgeoisie, his sons remain fatherless at home.
Perhaps the novel's deepest flaw is that tends to meander. Anecdote gradually follows anecdote, and sometimes the reader is left wondering which was important and which wasn't. It reads like memories piled upon memories with very little rising drama, except for the question you might ask about any actual, living person: what will become of them in thirty years?
And this is what's compelling in The Sweetest Dream. The characters themselves are lively and varied. We watch them grow, or refuse to grow. Interestingly, the old adage that character is destiny only seems to apply to the novel's purely villainous characters. Communist Johnny remains a helpless, charming, deceitful dreamer until the end. Rose, the snot-nosed, vindictive teenager has become, appropriately, a tattletale journalist for a British tabloid. Lessing's villainous characters, lacking dimension, are unable to change into anything except self-caricatures. And it seems likely that the author intends it so.
But the more sympathetic characters such as Frances and her sons evolve in the most surprising and yet plausible ways. And even poor Sylvia, whose brand of altruism in Africa is rooted, like her anorexia, in a martyr's self-denial, changes in a most satisfying way. She grows from being helpless to being undeniably strong.
In showing the long-term evolution of her characters, Lessing has created a rich novel about personality and politics. In The Sweetest Dream, as in most of her work, there's a constant awareness that what at first seems only personal balloons into the political, and what's political affects us all in the most deeply personal ways.
For more writings of a literary nature, see www.maninquotes@blogspot.com

A good plot diluted with far too many sub-plots, some of which were rather contorted.
With remarkably few words this author can conjure up a vivid scene e.g.(pg.14)"she would go slowly upstairs, leaving behind her on the stale air the odours of flowers and expensive face powder." However, at other times the story is bogged down with far too much detail.
I liked some of the social and half-humorous statements that popped up from time to time. e.g the author's take on international conferences where "they get paid to travel to some beauty spot and talk nonsence....they take off every day to see the lions and the giraffes and the dear little monkeys and I don't think they notice the land is perishing from the drought." (437).
There were a vast number of characters in this book, making it difficult to keep track of everyone. What became of Clever and Zeberdee? We don't know. What became of Rose, the journalist,who came to Zimlia and tried to undermine and wreek havoc for Sylvia? That thread was dropped unceremoniously. Why so much attention to Colin's daughter, Celia, at the very end? Above all how does the name of the book fit this story?

Doris Lessing - The Sweetest Dream.


In the first half of this splendid book we are back more or less in the territory of the author's The Good Terrorist. Frances Lennox, a middle -aged woman living in a large Hampstead house, presides unassertively over a large dinner table frequented by a group of 1960s youngsters brought home by her sons and who mostly belong to the radical left. Her Stalinist (later Maoist) ex-husband (irresponsibly abandoning wives and children seriatim) also drops in from time to time when he is not being a delegate in plushy hotels abroad, and plays the guru to the youngsters. Some rooms in the house become almost permanent squats for the young people who have often fallen out with their middle class families. Frances herself is a middle class left-wing Liberal; but she is unwilling to assert herself even when some of those who avail herself of her hospitality abuse her for being bourgeois and for belonging to an exploiting class. The politics of these youngsters are depicted as crude, their rhetoric based on clich s and slogans, their behaviour as selfish and self-indulgent. For instance, they defend their shop-lifting as an anti-capitalist activity. Clearly this novel is in part a scathing political tract against the radical left. But it is much more than that, as the psychology of Frances, of her sons, her mother-in-law, and each of the other young people is displayed with an insight which makes this a great novel and a captivating read.

In the second half of the book, in the 1980s, we move to "Zimlia", a newly liberated African country. Sylvia, Frances' step-daughter, has trained as a doctor and has then gone to work in a desperately poverty- and AIDS-stricken village in that country. In Zimlia we meet again some of the other youngsters who had sat around Frances' hospitable table: two of them, Africans who had been exiles from the country before its independence, are now in with the corrupt and incompetent government; three others have become leading figures in wealthy NGOs, moving importantly from one international gathering to another, and distributing largesse to the corrupt government without troubling to make sure that the money reaches the people who most need it. Again any possible resentment a reader might feel about being exposed to another political tract is likely to be overcome by the sheer brilliance with which the setting, the circumstances and the characters are described. Here, too, one knows that Doris Lessing is burning with rage about intellectual and political corruption, but, though there is nothing subtle about the political level of the book, her craft is such that one becomes deeply involved with and interested in the many people she so vividly portrays. The Sweetest Dream of a better world that black and white radicals had hoped for is cruelly dispelled in the shadow of Stalin, Mao, and tin-pot dictators in Africa, and Doris Lessing seems to say that it is an illusion to think we can transform the world by politics, but that individual acts of goodness and unselfishness can create pools of light in the surrounding darkness.

Structured in two sections set in London and Africa, The Sweetest Dream is an interesting chronicle of the turmoil of western ideology in the post-World War era. Lessing bitterly attacks the dogmatic views on communism and justice held by leaderships which were soon forgotten when they rose to power. Instead, her heroines are women (Julia, Frances, Silvia) whose political positions are not so defined but who rise above their circumstances to provide care and support to those around them. The section set in Africa is particularly intense and vivid. On the other hand, plotwise the story meanders too much and often loses focus, specially in the 60's part. I got the feeling that the novel would have improved with better editing.

It's the sixties and Frances Lennox and her two sons try to make the best of their situation, which requires that they live with her conservative mother-in-law, who is the German matriarch of this English family. Francis's ex-husband, who is a Communist rabble rouser, dumps his second wife's problem child Sylvia with Frances and she takes charge of the girl as if she were her own in this excellent and dramatic novel that takes you back to the tumultuous sixties. The book moves forward through two decades, reliving the politics of the times through the voices and views of Ms. Lessing's well drawn characters. A super story laced with satire.