Part of the ‘Into and out of Africa’ reading
journey.
On an isolated sheep farm in the heart of
the South African veldt a spinster, past her prime, reflects on her
meaningless, wasted existence. Or, in her view, her non-existence, with a
father who largely ignores her and a few native servants whose life beyond the
house is a tantalising mystery.
In her ennui she daydreams and speculates,
blurring hopes, fears and reality.
The arrival of a young bride to the farmhand
sets off a new round of speculations; is it in reality or in her imagination that
her staid, self-absorbed father takes an increasing, and to her shocking,
interest in the recent arrival.
Further marginalised (at least in her own
mind) by the new favourite, she aches for something to happen to prove she is
alive, to get her noticed, to make an impact before she fades into the dry dust
of the interior. But when she makes her long gestated intervention it unleashes more than even she imagined.
The book is short, narrated by the
(un-named) spinster in 266 numbered, immensely powerful, paragraphs, with an
intensity of language than conveys anxiety, angst and anguish, then despair, desperation
and disgust (to name but a few).
What does it say about South Africa? Maybe
that the human condition is not that different either side of the racial divide
of the time; particularly as the balance of power shifts.
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