The Choice Between Us by Edyth Bulbring

Every once in a while a book lands on my desk that I immediately know is an important read, and The Choice Between Us by Edyth Bulbring is one of those books. While at a glance this is a story that's skewed by the lens of two highly unreliable narrators, there's a bigger tale at play in which Bulbring offers readers snapshots of two very different South Africas, her narrators both in some way limited by their environments.

The Choice Between Us alternates cleverly between the lives of two young girls. It's 1963, and we see the world through Margaret's eyes. Her father is a well-to-do doctor, and she has a closer relationship with her nanny than she has with her own mother. Incredibly sheltered and totally naïve, she makes social blunders that ultimately have dire consequences within the toxic stewpot of apartheid-era South Africa. She is very much a product of her time, and reflects many of the social mores you'd expect from someone growing up in these circumstances – a privileged, oft-indulged child, yet I can't help but love her for her obliviousness.

Fifty years later, her relative Jenna goes to help her grand-aunt C-C pack up the old family house, and in doing so uncovers tantalising snippets into the history of her family. A damaged young woman, she in turn damages people around her through her actions. My heart bled for her, and there were times when I was yelling, "No, don't do it!" at the book. Yet watching her arc unfold was also incredibly satisfying, because despite her quirks, Jenna shows a surprising resilience and uncommon wisdom once she decides to take responsibility for her actions.

But what makes this book so powerful in my mind is how it effortlessly juxtaposes two vastly different eras. As a child of the 1980s, I grew up during the tail end of apartheid, so some of what Margaret expresses echoed with me in my family's attitudes from when I was younger. And yet Jenna's great disillusionment and, dare I say it, borderline nihilism, also touched me. This is not so much a story about two young woman, but rather glimpses into the lives of other people viewed through imperfect lenses and coloured with pronounced biases, and therein lies the charm. As always, Bulbring's characterisation is spot on. She understands the multitude of human cruelties all too well, down to the false smiles and barbed comments, to the larger evils. And yet she also offers us a glimmer of hope among the brokenness. 

The Reject by Edyth Bulbring

Edyth Bulbring brings her readers back to Juliet Seven's world in The Reject. Events in book one, The Mark, were left a little in the air, with Juliet escaped on board a stolen yacht with a price on her head while Mangeria was dumped into turmoil. There was no HEA for her and her love Nicholas.

It's going to be difficult to review The Reject without massive spoilers, so I'm not going to discuss specific plot points. At its heart, this is a quest-novel, with Juliet aiming to return to Mangeria and reunite with Nicholas. Except the Fates have other things in mind for her, and she's blown far off course with two major side-quests, as it were.

The story isn't straight-up SF, but blends in elements of fantasy as well, so be warned that occasionally there are dream-like sequences involving beasts of omen, like hadeda ibises and yes, even a great white shark. This novel reads far grittier and darker than I expected – Juliet is a hard young woman, and most certainly a product of her environment. This means that she's not particularly likeable, but her strong will to survive and yes, her bitterness, make a lot of sense. She doesn't allow folks to push her around. Or if they do push, she will find ways to push back.

I did feel that the pacing was a little off with The Reject, but then Edyth does compress a lot of time in the story – and although there are events that take place, they are almost lost in a kind of narrative summary. My suspicion is that this novel suffers a little bit of what I term as 'middle book syndrome' where there's a measure of setting up for a book three. Not that I've heard whether a book three is in the works, but it wouldn't surprise me a book were to drop at some point in the future. The first half of the novel feels like a detour, offering important back story, before it gets on the move again.

There are some pop-culture nods that made me smile, which I suspect may go a little over the head of readers who haven't watched older films. But I enjoyed the intertextuality. I will, however, suggest that folks might reread book one before dipping into book two, especially if some time has lapsed since the last read – and here the fault lies with me, the reader. I was a little overwhelmed with the cast of characters and their relationships in the last part of the story, where things really start moving. I think if I were more solidly grounded in the context, this wouldn't have been so much of a problem for me.

The Reject offers a cracker of a story, and when it really gets going, it rushes at a headlong pace, perhaps sometimes a little too fast, in my opinion. I would have liked to have seen more immersion in the world, a bit more tactile, sensory input to flesh the setting out. But these were not dealbreakers for me. I enjoyed seeing Juliet's interactions with the people around her, the way she's often in denial about her own feelings, and also how she tries (and perhaps even fails) to do better than the people in her past who let her down.

Snitch 2: A Year of Relative Madness by Edyth Bulbring

My first response to finishing Snitch 2 by Edyth Bulbring was "Wow! This was fun!" and it's rare to find a YA novel that has that magic combination of wit, humour and just a touch of the absurd. While I don't think it would have been vital to read book 1 first, I reckon it would most certainly help with context. Edyth is clearly comfortable with her characters, and it shows, and I feel that they truly shine in book 2, with the addition of a few more.

Most of all, this is a clever book, filled with characters who are all interesting, and who are constantly at cross purposes to each other – with many unintentionally (for them) humorous results. I won't go into the story too deeply, except to say that the Smith household is turned upside down when Uncle Charlie's mom, Gogo, comes to stay.

Ben himself hits a rocky patch in his relationship with Elizabeth, whose love for the rescued pitbull Baby puts Ben in second place when it comes to her affections. Not only that, but there's another rival for Elizabeth's attention on the horizon too, and Ben's attempts to get the better of the situation are both painful and absolutely adorable.

If you, like me, were a huge fan of the Adrian Mole books back in the day, then don't hesitate to pick up Edyth's Snitch books. You'll thank me later. I think what I love the most about Ben Smith's narrative is his sincerity, which is refreshing in a South African climate where we so often fall prey to apathy and cynicism. If you want to be reminded about what makes South Africa such a special place to live, then these stories will rekindle your love.

Thank you, Edyth, for this delightful book. You've exceeded my expectations with this funny, joyful story. Snitch 2 is a quick, clever read that will leave readers with a smile on their face.

Snitch by Edyth Bulbring, a review

The first thing you notice about this edition of Snitch by Edyth Bulbring, is the cover, which reminds me of some of the vintage Adrian Mole diaries (with some of the absurd humour). But all resemblance ends there because while our protagonist is awkward, he's no Adrian (and for that I'm grateful). And, while this is a YA book, typically of Edyth's writing, it goes much, much deeper. 

Ben Smith is what we can consider your everyday troubled teen. He lives with his mom, Sarah, and his sister Helen (who has blue dreads), as well as their aptly named dog Terror. His dad passed away when he was little, but his "uncle" Charlie visits often.

Without spoiling the story for you, I'll say this much, that we follow the heartaches and trials of Ben's school career when he is the subject of terrible bulling for Reasons [redacted due to spoilers]. The bonds of friendship and family are severely tested as Ben endures his ordeals ... and experiences that very first teenage love.

If I have to look at an underlying theme that runs through this book, it's about overcoming the labels that others apply to you. Bulbring's writing is at times humorous and poignant. She remains, as always, a keen observer of interpersonal relationships and how we often damage each other without meaning to. Snitch is accessible and highly enjoyable, and I'll add, not just for younger readers. And she's very much in touch with the issues that affect those who are coming of age.

A glimpse into a grim future with Edyth Bulbring

For those of you who missed my interview with South African author Edyth Bulbring when it first appeared in the Pretoria News this month, here it is in its full glory.

In a genre made popular by such a runaway successes as The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and Divergent, by Veronica Roth, which have both spawned film franchises, it is perhaps a difficult to break into and put one’s own stamp on, but South African author Edyth Bulbring has done just that with her novel, The Mark, which tells the story of one young woman, Juliet Seven – or Ettie, as she prefers to be known – who fights against a system that will see her serve her entire life as a drudge in service to the upper classes.

Though, as Bulbring says, there is a lot in The Mark that is similar to other examples dystopian fiction, when she set out to write The Mark, she hadn’t read any in the genre.

“It was a completely new genre for me,” says Bulbring, “and I only started reading books like The Hunger Games and Divergent after I had written the first draft of The Mark. Looking back, I think there is one thing that sets The Mark apart from its fellows. This is that Juliet Seven, or Ettie, who has a prophecy about her saying that she will be the one to overturn the existing repressive system, does not know about the prophecy and she does not embrace popular rebellion. She is a loner, deeply suspicious of other people and she neither joins, nor identifies with the movement in opposition to the existing order.

“But I think it reflects my belief that all systems/governments are pretty much all the same. They are all underpinned by ugly, greedy rich men with big guns. And, that at the end of the day, behind the Mandelas and the Gandhis – the kinds of people whose heroic faces we so love to wear on our T-shirts and shout slogans about – the new systems that come about because of their sacrifices and the movements they inspire, simply turn out to be pretty much like the old ones – underpinned by ugly greedy rich men with big guns. Nothing ever changes. I think Ettie knows this, that one system is as rubbish as the next, which is why she chooses not to become the new poster girl for other people’s agendas.

Ettie isn't the special girl with all the special powers we’ve come to expect in YA fiction. In fact, she isn't even a very nice person, yet she does have some redeeming qualities. Why do we cheer for her despite her not-so-nice side?

Bulbring explains: “There are lots of not so nice things about Ettie. She is duplicitous, cunning and manipulative, a thief, a liar and she is driven by self-preservation. But there are two qualities that allow us to forgive her and root for her. The first is that when she loves, she loves hard and true. The second is that she is loyal to those she loves. I think we like the fact that she is discerning – she doesn’t care who likes her and likes few people in return. She is not into celebrity culture. She spends her love and loyalty frugally and doesn’t spread it around much, but when she does, she becomes incredibly vulnerable. Her love and loyalty make her behave contrary to her nature and have the power to break her. She knows this, and despite it, she allows it to happen.”

The world Bulbring paints has very little hope in it, and Bulbring shares that The Mark started off as a short story she wrote several years ago when her nine-year-old-son was tricked out of some money by a con artist while they were on holiday in Italy.

She says: “I wanted to explore the relationship between a hardened scammer and the boy who falls in love with her. The short story died, but I couldn’t forget the idea about the con artist and the boy, so I thought I would try and turn it into a book. When I thought about a setting, I realised that it would never work in South Africa, or even abroad. I had to set it in a place that didn’t exist. I needed to create a new place and a different time for them. So that’s what I did. I am also a keen recycler and gardener, and one of the things that drives me mental is the control that big corporations have over the environment and the production of food. I wanted to explore the consequences that the actions of a few greedy bastards would have on our future.”

There are few other survivors in this future, but hadedas are a remnant from the past, and add a touch of magical realism to what might otherwise be straight SF. Bulbring concludes: “The Mark is set some 250 years after a time when the world blew up and cut the face of the moon in half. Very little survived apart from fleas and rats and, of course, cockroaches. Except I love birds, especially hadedas, which are prehistoric looking, extremely deceptive in that they are ungainly and ugly, except up close they are quite extraordinarily beautiful. The sound they make (like strangled vuvuzelas) when they circle above my house and wake me every morning, makes me feel glad to be alive. In The Mark, the muti nags takes the eyes out of the hadeda chicks so that they have a second sight. I chose them to the blind tellers of the prophecy because if there is one bird I imagined surviving a conflagration, it would be the hadeda. They look a billion years old and as if they are set to last another billion.”

Find out more about Edyth Bulbring at www.nb.co.za/authors/8506.

REVIEW
Title: The Mark
Author: Edyth Bulbring
Publisher: Tafelberg, 2014

Before you roll your eyes at what you may consider to be yet another YA dystopia read, you can be reassured that The Mark by Edyth Bulbring isn’t cast in the same mould as The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins as so many recent releases have been. Instead, the work has a grittier, more scratchy-behind-the-eyes feel that one would expect with George Orwell’s 1984.

Ettie, also known as Juliet Seven, isn’t the special girl with the super abilities who is going to save the world and overthrow the evil ruling elite. She’s no one. She’s a drudge, a young woman fated to work in a menial job until she’s only fit for the Reject Dump. Her Mark, which she desperately tries to remove throughout, means she’s trapped in the roles cast for her by others.

We discover a world that is, as Bulbring puts it, “Post-Conflagration”. What exactly went wrong, we don’t find out, but it’s beside the point. Humanity and nearly all the life on the planet (apart from flies) have been driven to the edge of extinction. The Machine is all that keeps mankind going, regulating a rigid caste system in which only a few are lucky enough to number among the Elite. The sun is no longer a life-giving source of light, and any who do not play by the rules in this harsh world are deemed Savage, and cut off from society.

When not training for her future in service of the elite, Ettie is also part of a criminal underground that scams the “Posh”, and she makes no excuses for behaviour nor does she possess many redeeming qualities, beyond her rigorous self-interest. Though she’s clearly not a nice person – and some of her nasty comments are true gems – her devotion to her friend and companion Kitty, whom she will go to the ends of the earth to protect, shines through; and also her love of literature that transports her to magical worlds so vastly different from the reality in which she is immersed.

The main theme throughout the story is that of escape, and not being satisfied with preordained lots. Ettie’s attempts to break free from an oppressive system lead her through many unpredictable twists and turns; as soon as I thought I knew which direction Bulbring was going to take readers, she confounded my expectations.

The Mark is a fast-paced, gritty and uncomfortable read and Bulbring maintains a cracking pace, blending elements of SF dystopia with nuances of magical realism. Pick this one up if you’re looking for something slightly different.