Publisher's Weekly Review
An elderly woman on her deathbed recalls a rural, isolated life before and just after the Boer wars, in this novel from one of South Africa's most award-winning authors. Sussie recalls her lonesome childhood and unmarried adult life: the only daughter of a domineering mother whose wicked temperament results in rage-fueled fits and ignites the scorn of her neighbors, and a respected father whose gentleness stirs the scant feelings of tenderness within her. Sussie's two brothers, Jakob and Pieter, who couldn't be more different, live in the Roggeveld mountains-a harsh and desolate landscape with extreme seasons that echo the tensions and stresses of daily life. When Jakob's new wife, Sofie, arrives, beautiful and free-spirited, Sussie's interest is piqued as Sofie teaches her what she's learned in school and includes her in clandestine excursions. Sofie has a son, and heir, Maans, who grows up to take control of the homestead. When tragedy and scandal befall the family, Sussie longs for some understanding. Resolutely introverted and perpetually wary of other people, she tries to piece the broken story of her family together from fragments of memories. The meandering, exploratory narrative is at once beautiful and heartbreaking. (May) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Kirkus Review
In this decades-spanning novel, an Afrikaner woman looks back at her life and the slow evolution of her family.At the time that Schoeman's novel opens, narrator Sussie is advanced in age. She's recalling her life, and that of her family; an early reference to "when the first white people toiled up the passes of the Roggeveld Mountains" gives a sense of the geographic and racial politics to come. The novel, originally published in Afrikaans in 1993, has a pace that unwinds slowly and unpredictably. Sussie sometimes contradicts herself, and it gradually becomes clear that this self-imposed mental journey is arduous. She writes of "running off sentences in a way my slow tongue could never have managed before." Later, her denials sound almost Beckett-ian: "I cannot remember any more; I do not know any more. I do not want to remember any more." To the extent that Schoeman's novel has a shape, it's one that coalesces very slowly, tracing the evolution of the family's fortunes through several generations, as they move from prominent farmers toward a more urban existence. Over that time, relatives die, both peacefully and violently, and Sussie remains an observer throughout, grappling with her memories and the quiet and gnawing anguish that comes from roads not taken. Late in the book, Sussie declares, "there is nothing more to tell," yet the novel hasn't reached its conclusion. Schoeman brings together the threads of mystery, loss, and progress in a haunting final scene. For all that Schoeman's novel summons up grand themes, its handling of them is subtle and sometimes mysterious, arriving at its most powerful moments unpredictably and honestly. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
