Jan Mbali
Reader
I am Curious as to how this book and its mini-biographies about some of our doubty women would be read by non-South Africans. They are in general pretty amazing and are the bedrock of our history.
It is a very eclectic collection, and written with a wonderfully light touch that conceals some sucker punches. Quite an emotional read for me, but not in all cases - only those that resonate because I knew about them already. Especially Ruth First (who I knew before her assasination by the Apartheid regime) and the Afrikaans poet Ingrid Jonker, whose more famous poems I read in English. Of her poetry I remember one line about her own work "My bloodchild lies in the sewer. From the chapter I now understand this refers to an abortion she had that troubled her. My people have rotted away from me" and link that to her poem about a child killed by soldiers at a roadblock which was read by Mandela at his inaugaration. I also recall my parents reaction to her funeral (after her suicide) when a child, pointing to a photo of her lover, the write Jack Cope, on his knees by the grave. The chapter on Ruth First is not nearly as inspired, although it captures her story well enough. There are a number of other of our icons, including great writers such as Olive Schreiner and Bessie Head. Those I did not know about held my attention, but more as curiosities and revealing of their times. There is a stripper, a cross-dressing doctor, and so on. Living South African women are left out, wisely, the auhor saying in her witty introduction that "it was too early to close the chapter on them."
It is a very eclectic collection, and written with a wonderfully light touch that conceals some sucker punches. Quite an emotional read for me, but not in all cases - only those that resonate because I knew about them already. Especially Ruth First (who I knew before her assasination by the Apartheid regime) and the Afrikaans poet Ingrid Jonker, whose more famous poems I read in English. Of her poetry I remember one line about her own work "My bloodchild lies in the sewer. From the chapter I now understand this refers to an abortion she had that troubled her. My people have rotted away from me" and link that to her poem about a child killed by soldiers at a roadblock which was read by Mandela at his inaugaration. I also recall my parents reaction to her funeral (after her suicide) when a child, pointing to a photo of her lover, the write Jack Cope, on his knees by the grave. The chapter on Ruth First is not nearly as inspired, although it captures her story well enough. There are a number of other of our icons, including great writers such as Olive Schreiner and Bessie Head. Those I did not know about held my attention, but more as curiosities and revealing of their times. There is a stripper, a cross-dressing doctor, and so on. Living South African women are left out, wisely, the auhor saying in her witty introduction that "it was too early to close the chapter on them."
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