Gedig: My Diep Ontwaakde Hunkering

Note: This post originally appeared on my discontinued website maartensity.com. The published date and time has been adjusted to approximate the original.

Die hitte slaan op uit die teerpad
en die geur van stof en sinkdakke
roer swart sade van herinnering
die hartseer van herinnering
van 'n diep ontwaakde hunkering
want hier al langs Jakaranda takke
wat skuif en skuur oor die bruin sinkdakke
lê 'n diep begrawe hunkering.

Bo die pienk, gevalle Jakaranda blom
op grond grof tot die reën weer kom
hoe snak ek as die blare wink
as baksteen rooi deur die blare blink
beur my hart as die onthou weerklink
soos dreunings ver in die middagson
die donderweer van die reën wat kom
wat heimwee in my hart weer bring.

Daar's 'n huis wat agter heinings staan
'n huis waar grasse ruig opstaan
met skadus teen die baksteenmuur
en'k onthou weer eens was iemand hier
en sy het daar langs die rooi steenmuur
in die son soms vir 'n ruk gestaan
geglimlag en dan in gegaan
en my hele hart herroep haar hier

Want my leefruim het sy weg gebaan
met doel en drif verspoel in eiewaan
en haar sag bruin oë en helder lag
diep wys stem en roesbruin hareprag
het vir ewig eendag stilgeraak
vir ewig sag bruin nimmermeer
en die diep verlange eggo weer
want hartseer bly geduldig wag

Terwyl die hitte styg uit die teerpad op
en die geur van sinkdakke en stof
sag-saggies sweef soos herinnerings
soos die hartseer en herinnering
van my lank begrawe hunkering.
Daar duskant Jakarandatakke
wat skuif en skuur oor die roes sinkdakke
verrys beelde van my hunkering.

Review: The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick

Note: This post originally appeared on my discontinued website maartensity.com. The published date and time has been adjusted to match the original.

Isn't it strange? Sometimes you buy a book, it looks and is easy to read, promises to be entertaining--and yet rests on your shelf for ages. That was the case with The Invention of Hugo Cabret. I acquired the hardcover soon after it came out in 2007, yet only took it from the shelf last night--more out of a restless need to consume reading matter than a particularly focused interest.

And yet it was all finished in one sitting! The story boasts nearly 300 pages of illustrations, a further 120+ of prose, and is very innovative in its whole conception--you realise just how much towards the end, making it well worth the journey.

Its strength lies in the film-like sequences of illustrations to move the reader through the spaces that the characters occupy, adequately supported by passages of prose holding the story's panels together and expanding on the characters and the action. Nevertheless, the choice of subject is integral to the overall message and structural metaphysics of the novel, because the various facets of the book work together to provide its message, much like the different parts of the automaton in the story.

I should admit that I was seldom thrilled while reading it, merely pulled along by the speed of the ride. Yet as a whole it is a strangely compelling story with both educational and entertainment value.

Critics and reviewers (and this isn't a review as such) often judge too soon after reading a story, forgetting that its value is often changed by the way it grows on you (or fails to). I suspect The Invention of Hugo Cabret may have some aptitude in this regard, and I should give it the time it needs to prove itself.

Review: Breinbliksem by Fanie Viljoen

Note: This post originally appeared on my discontinued website maartensity.com. The published date and time has been adjusted to approximate the original.

During a recent trip to South Africa I had the pleasure of picking up some of the cream of Afrikaans writing. Breinbliksem is one of them.

Fanie Viljoen's hard hitting novel about a teenage boy living with his dysfunctional family, and getting up to no good with his friend Kerbs, is both entertaining and literary. The ending (which I won't reveal) has caused some dispute, and I was also in two minds about it. It is testament to the intrigue of the novel on a literary level, and raises a few questions about the nature of storytelling itself.

The back cover states: "Dear reader. This book comes with a warning - see page 1. Take it seriously." And lower down, in capitalised red letters: "NOT FOR SENSITIVE READERS!"

Now if that is not an invitation to open it and have a look--which is precisely what I did right there in the bookshop--then I don't know what is! So, onwards to page 1, and there the reader is confronted with yet another, more elaborate notice (my translation):

Warning

This is not a book that's going to make you feel better about yourself. It's not going to tell you the meaning of life. It's not going to help you to "discover your inner self". If Mommy and Daddy don't like you to read Afrikaans novels with English words in between, then you can do one of the following. 

1. Chuck it
2. Go ask the bookshop where you bought it if you can swap it for one of those make-your-life-just-lovely-fantastic-in-ten-easy-steps-books
3. If you stole the book at the bookshop, I'm afraid you'll have to put it back without being seen, and then steal one of those make-your-life-quite-massively-marvellous-in-ten-easy-steps-books
4. You can rip out the pages and use them to smoke a little something
5. You can read the book quietly on the toilet where Mommy and Daddy will (hopefully) not bother you 

If you are still sitting with the book in your hands, you are probably interested to read further. Well my bro, then you're in for a ride, but be warned: this book is going to whack your mind and leave you possibly more fucked-up than you already are.

The novel won the M.E.R. prize for youth literature (2005) as well as the Sanlam prize for youth literature (2005). I can see why it is aimed at a youthful audience, but its resonance is far wider, and it should appeal to anyone with an open-minded interest in contemporary South African writing.