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Every time I talk to
a friend going to Africa on safari I worry whether or not he or she
will come home alive. It's a morbid thought, I know, but in a country
so lawless, so filled with genocide, famine and general shenanigans,
it's hard to imagine those safari tour guides can guard rich American
tourists from everything (including ak-47-toting twelve-year-olds
and stampeding rhinoceroses). One of my best friends from high-school
was from South Africa--the setting of this book--and the country seemed
to have a real affect on him. It seemed to be a living being inside
his soul, always surfacing at odd times. Sometimes when inebriated
he would talk about the times of apartheid and how much he hated and
was ashamed of his homeland, but at the same time he missed it, as
if some part of him was left behind. That may be the case with any
recent immigrant, but Africa really had some magic I hadn't heard
my other friends from Argentina, Korea and Italy talk about in such
mystic terms. Reading this book reminded me of those talks, but added
in that element of lawlessness and danger that always tinges my perception
(whether it's deserved or not). There is a bit of that shame and anger
as well, as our white protagonist struggles to reconcile violence
against his family and his dealings with pre and post South Africa.
So Professor Lurie is basically tossed out of his teaching job at
a Cape Town University for having a relationship with one of his students.
We're not made to feel bad for the guy, as he is kind of a weird jackass
about the whole thing, resigning rather than facing suspension and
censure. In an attempt to reconnect with his daughter and sort out
his life, he goes out to stay with her in the boonies. I imagined
either the Old West or the Australian outback, both of which are sparsely
populated and filled with danger. The narrative continues from there,
with bad things happening and lots of anguish and stuff. The plot
is extremely linear and straight forward, which is something I'm honestly
not used to, but works for the most part here. Lurie is a reasonably
interesting character, and we do see his arc, but his daughter's character
is somewhat underplayed and could have been a stronger force in the
plot. While there are some semi-powerful sections of the book, I have
a feeling things would be exponentially more important if I were actually
South African, or at least had a better handle on my history of the
region. I came away not feeling one way or another about the book,
and while I recognize it as a well written tale of a man's journey
through trauma and shame, it didn't hit home the way it should have.
Maybe I'm just a cold, unfeeling bastard.
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