Notes on Falling by Bronwyn Law-Viljoen

Every once in a while, I encounter a literary work that is best described in terms of imagery, tones, and textures, and Notes on Falling by Bronwyn Law-Viljoen is one such work. We start the story with photographer Thalia, who has grown up motherless and raised by her father, who has done his best for her, but who has also never shared anything about her absent mother until quite late in her life. We learn that Thalia's mother left the country, left the baby Thalia in the father's arms, and that's about all we know – and this nagging absence perhaps does manifest itself in Thalia's life by her hunger to capture and quantify the world around her. If she can describe her world, lend it some form of permanence as a still image, perhaps she can control it in some way. Or at least these are my thoughts on the matter.

Thalia herself is a photographer, her entire life framed by how she works with light, objectifies and tries to understand her surroundings – and in that degree, Law-Viljoen paints with words in the same way a good photographer will paint with light, shadow, and subject matter. The reality that we are given is often naked, unforgiving, made up of sharp planes and angles that slice. A great photo will foreground details, open them up for analysis and understanding.

In this layered tale, we deal not only with the discomfort of the present, but we sift through memories encapsulated in stark imagery, be it 1990s South Africa and New York, and then also take a step even further back, to a New York of the 1970s, to catch a glimpse of a creative zeitgeist as ephemeral as its participants and instigators. Somehow, all these snapshots are tied together in Thalia's search for a mother who was willing to abandon her for a dream. 

Through Thalia, we encounter Robert, whose own search during New York of the 1970s, is intrinsically linked to Thalia's journey – though for fear of spoilers, I won't say how. What Law-Viljoen does well, is show how an individual can frame their lives in a search for meaning, not only of their innermost selves, but also in how they fit into the larger picture – even when the world is like an unstoppable train that continues hurtling through space and time with or without your presence. This is very much an existential novel, that does not have the neat, tidy hallmarks of a happy tale – much like real life, in that regards – that will leave readers with much to ponder on these seemingly isolated yet intrinsically linked themes expressed within the story. 

And as someone who majored in photography at university, it was a real treat for me to read a novel that spoke a language that I understand well. This is a beautiful, if disquieting and uncomfortable book.

Field Guide to the Amaryllis Family of Southern Africa & Surrounding Territories

Before we kick off with this review, I'll have you know that my mom named me after a bleeding flower. So before you ask, yes, I know. Though I prefer to tell people I was named after one of the god Poseidon's daughters.

The Amaryllis family of southern Africa has many, many more species in it than I expected. Actually, I wasn't sure what to expect when the Field Guide for the Amaryllis Family of Southern Africa & Surrounding Territories by Graham Duncan, Barbara Jeppe, and Leigh Voigt landed on my review pile. 

For a smallish, compact field guide, this is a huge book, and there's a part of me that wishes I could own a coffee table version of it because its size means that the absolutely amazing illustrations and photographs are so small. But then again, most of us aren't about to go hiking into the veld armed with a coffee table book big enough to fell a charging bull elephant, so here we are.

Barbara Jeppe, I must add, is a legend. I first encountered her lovely botanical illustrations in her South African Aloes, so to see so many of her illustrations of amaryllids here is an absolute treat. And it is fitting that this book is dedicated to her and her staggering contribution to botany.

Something I hadn't realised when I picked up this book was that there were so many species of Amaryllis in the drier parts of the country. In fact, in my not-so-humble opinion, Namibia and the Northern Cape totally lucked out when it comes to the sheer beauty and diversity of its species.

The field guide is divided into several sections, primarily looking at the different vegetative biomes, from desert, Nama Karoo, Fynbos, forest, and Albany thicket, to savanna, grassland, Zambezian grassland/dry forest, and widespread distribution. Each species will, where possible, have its locations pinpointed on a map, have a photo or two, and perhaps even an illustration. Due to the nature of this book, we can't expect a deep dive, but we will have a brief description, names, flowering period, a brief history, similar species, distribution, habitat, and life cycle, pollination, conservation status, and possible notes on cultivation. So all in all, really useful information for those who, like me, are of a habit to wander into the veld to see what strange plants might be hiding in plain sight, so to speak.

Whether you have a love of the showy Brunsvigia or Haemanthus, or, ahem, are a fan of the graceful Nerines or Clivias, you are bound to have a thorough introduction to the sheer variety of species found in our region. Perhaps sobering for me, however, was realising how many of these beautiful plants are threatened by agriculture, mining, or any other human-driven actions. Some species we simply don't know the full extent of their status, and many are threatened or critically endangered – highlighting the need for us to take better care of our environment.

All in all, this book is a stunning keeper, and if you don't already love southern Africa's abundant flora, then this will most certainly make you pay more attention to the often delicate blooms that are so easy to overlook.

The Artist Vanishes by Terry Westby-Nunn

When the opportunity came up to read and review The Artist Vanishes by Terry Westby-Nunn, I snatched up the book with both hands. A goodly many years ago I read The Sea of Wise Insects, and while most of the novel's details have grown foggy for me due to the vagaries of time, I recalled that I resonated with Terry's writing style. Not only that, she writes about the Cape Town I know all too well – its quirky denizens who often inhabit liminal spaces.

The Artist Vanishes is chock full of thoroughly unlikeable characters doing thoroughly awful things, but the hallmark of a good author is someone who makes you care about these dreadful people despite their questionable antics. And this novel is so cleverly written. Actually, it's two novels, following two loosely interlinked timelines. On one, we follow the story of the quintessential starveling artist Sophie, who occasionally makes ends meet by working in the film industry (hey, I relate to that particular brand of suffering) until she wins a grant for her incredibly controversial art project that catapults her into notoriety. Needless to say, her sudden, meteoric success nearly destroys her as she spirals into coke-fuelled paranoia, surrounded by people who are not good for her. At some point, she's going to need to find her pole star, but doing so puts her in great danger.

Years later, failed filmmaker James washes up in Sophie's old apartment. He's lost it all, including his marriage, and he's looking at the world through the bottom of a whiskey bottle. That is, until he discovers that his ratty home was where Sophie used to stay – the notorious artist who is vanished, and presumed dead. James finds his groove again, investigating Sophie's disappearance, and his fumbling efforts to unpick the mystery serves to show us the other side of the awful people who were Sophie's 'friends'.

At its heart, this is a slowly unfolding tale where we see the world through the eyes of two very troubled, unreliable narrators. I must warn sensitive readers that there is an Awful Thing that happens to a pet, so if this sort of thing bothers you, perhaps don't read this book. Terry's writing, however, is an absolute joy. Armed with a keen perception of people and Cape Town's many (often contrasting) layers, she takes readers on a deep dive, slowly unspooling her secrets. The only thing about her writing that nearly drove me dilly was her one-word dialogue tags that feel like stage directions from a script. These happened often enough that I started gritting my teeth, but I also suspect that it's my pernickety editor side who was so dearly troubled. Normal readers probably won't even notice.

The Artist Vanishes is a cleverly told mystery that underpins why Terry Westby-Nunn remains on my 'grabby fingers' list of South African authors.

Stuarts' Field Guide to National Parks & Game Reserves - Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia & Malawi by Chris Stuart, Mathilde Stuart

Not so long ago I was given the opportunity to get a peek at Stuarts' Field Guide to National Parks & Game Reserves of Namibia | Botswana | Zimbabwe | Zambia | Malawi, which I reviewed for FMR. This handy guide was written by Chris and Mathilde Stuart, who clearly have a great passion for our continent's wild places.

The guide is brimful of detailed maps and content that show how many wonderful parks and conservation areas these countries have, and will prove useful to anyone planning a trip. Many diverse, contrasting environments are to be found here, from coastlines to desert, and river deltas to savanna grasslands. Great pictures too, to give a teaser of what sorts of wildlife and vegetation you can expect. Many well-known areas such as Etosha, Chobe, Mana Pools, Victoria Falls, and more are featured. 

This guide highlights the fact that conservation walks a tightrope between land usage – we must consider that people have been using natural resources for thousands of years – and also touches on how we need to mitigate the damage we cause now, with poaching being a very serious issue, as well as illegal timber harvesting, overgrazing and encroachment of human habitation – all these can have devastating, long-term effects on the environment. It's tricky to balance consumption with conservation – and these are challenges of land usage that will always need to be addressed. 

The book is divided into two sections: one part dealing with the natural history, and the second providing an image gallery of some of the commonly occurring wildlife and vegetation – which is great for a quick identification. This latter part is divided into mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians and trees. Handy sidebars in the first part of the guide offer tips and further commentary, and also warn if the reserve you wish to visit falls within a malaria or tsetse fly area or whether rabies might even be an issue. Warnings are also for the lack of cellphone reception in remote areas – connectivity often being something we city dwellers take for granted. 

The wilds of Africa are offer a harsh, unforgiving landscape, yet one also filled with incredible, awe-inspiring beauty. Here be lions, quite literally – so if you wish to explore truly wild areas, it's best to be prepared and be aware of what's going on around you at all times. I found the natural history information particularly fascinating, and feel it will most certainly inform travellers, especially when it comes to selecting routes and deciding on which accommodation options will be suitable – whether you wish to tough it out or rather stay in a luxury tented camp. 

The authors also give an indication of some of the plants and wildlife you'll most commonly see in particular areas. Equally important is information and advice about the road conditions, but also to take note when the dry or rainy seasons are, as these may also affect your mobility in whichever destination you visit. What I loved the best about this book is that it gives an introduction to parts of southern Africa that I don't know well, and I most certainly wish to visit before I shuffle off this mortal coil. With such a wealth of natural beauty, it's very tempting to forego overseas travel entirely and stay local – there's far too much to see and do in a single lifetime.

Palaces of Stone: Uncovering ancient southern African kingdoms by Mike Main & Tom Huffman

I've known about the existence of the iconic Great Zimbabwe ruins for years, but until Palaces of Stone by Mike Main and Tom Huffman arrived on my reading pile, I had no idea that the story behind these remnants of a culture were far more numerous and widespread – with 566 known sites described. Before the Europeans had the wherewithal to sail around the Cape of Storms, kingdoms existed in southern Africa with dwelling-places and palaces with such evocative names as Mapungubwe, Great Zimbabwe, Khami, and Zinjanja, among others.

The first settlements date back to 900 CE to 1850 CE, with the last, the state of Mutapa, seeing the start of its demise with the arrival of the Portuguese in the1600s, whose meddling in local politics stirred a toxic brew of intrigue and conflict. Main and Huffman paint a picture of a series of states, each growing phoenix-like out of the ashes of the old, with complex cultural practices and a wide net of influence within the region.

We are fortunate that not all the research into the culture of the region is conjecture – much of the lore is still alive today, courtesy of the Shona people, and the authors offer up fascinating details behind the meticulously laid-out stonework, the arrangement of dwellings, and the roles played by their inhabitants. Even the patterns of the stones have their meanings – the chevron, check, and herringbone patterns each telling their own stories. 

What troubled me was also my understanding of the great damage wreaked by the British, whose shameless treasure hunting in the Great Zimbabwe ruins destroyed any hope of piecing together accurate archaeological data. This disregard for an immense cultural heritage means that we have lost so much, and Cecil John Rhodes and his ilk have much to answer for.

Palaces of Stone might be a slim volume whose size cannot do justice to the beautiful photographs and detailed maps reproduced within, but for those who, like me, are fascinated by southern Africa's natural and cultural history, this is a veritable treasure trove of information. What I've learnt is that these walls are more than just tumbled ruins, but they echo with a vast reservoir of meaning and a vibrant past deserving of preservation and further research. 

Isle by Claire Robertson

Isle by Claire Robertson is one of those books that, even after much consideration, I find difficult to pigeonhole. And it's been preying on my mind awhile now, weeks after I have finished it. First off, it was the cover that got me – I admit I'm a sucker for striking covers. But also, in my mission to read more African writers, this was certainly intriguing when I cast an eye over the blurb.

It's not a novel, but rather two novellas that have been glomped together, with the only real connection being that both take place on an island and feature the lives of women – though they are centuries apart.

I – Forth from this Place takes up the bulk of the offering, and is the tale of a community of women living on the Isle of St Katharine. They are not nuns, nor have they sworn an oath of celibacy, but they do live as a community of nuns would – cloistered and independent of the world of men. Yet their Magistra Lutgard is well aware of the fragility of the equilibrium their liminal space inhabits. She is anxious not to agitate the church or nearby community too much – for in her time witch hunts are not uncommon. It doesn't help that one of her women, Mechthild, is restless, striving to be more, do more. Find her own way in the world in a manner that is unconventional for its time.

None of this is helped when a Moorish peddler is rescued from a near-drowning, and serves as a muse for Mechthild in her artistic aspirations. She makes a book of hours, but instead of following conventions, her lifelike representations of the people around her surprise and astound those who are not accustomed to seeing representations of their faces laid down on paper. This act of hers has far-reaching consequences, not only for Mechthild, but for the lives her work touches.

II – Uxo brings us to a post-WWII setting where Lily Kinsella, who is higher-ranking than her fellow officer, John Burge, are tasked to recover or destroy old ordnance. Yet from the start, it is clear that all is not well with Lily, nor her relationship with Burge. Their work takes them to remote places, and it's clear  this unbalanced relationship between the two, carries equal parts resentment and reverence on Burge's part in the face of Lily's seeming indifference to him. 

Their travels bring them to an unnamed island that serves as a penitentiary, where Lily's interactions with teenage Iris and her prison warden father stir trouble, and eventually bring the issues between Lily and Burge to a head. Part coming-of-age story, part remembering of a shrouded past, this novella offers readers a careful dance between withholding and revealing in a way that exposes the fragility of human lives in all their ugliness and beauty.

Neither of these novellas comes to a head in a way that is satisfying – but then again, it's not for an ending or great denouement that one would read, but rather the savouring of each line of prose that is so exquisitely crafted that it is liquid poetry. And that's all I'll say on the matter. See for yourself.

Hidden Karoo by Patricia Kramer and Alain Proust

I make no secret of the fact that South Africa's arid interior is my 'heartland'. My father was born in the Groot Karoo, and at times lived in little dorpies like Aberdeen, Hanover, and De Aar. During the holidays, when most sensible folks head to the beach, we head to the hinterlands, and the Klein Karoo, especially the area near Ladismith and Oudtshoorn, is high up on my list of favourite destinations. When Hidden Karoo by Patricia Kramer and Alain Proust landed on my review pile, I was immediately all grabby-fingered over the book. 

And for very good reason. On a long road trip through the interior, it is so easy to dismiss the landsdape when all one sees passing by in a blur of windpumps, scatterings of sun-bleached sheep, flat-topped koppies, and long stretches of what at a glance appears to be a Martian wasteland. Yet if you harbour a love the history of South Africa's dry hinterlands, or are idly curious and wish to know more, then this book will be for you. Those in the know understand that if you take the time to step off that highway, and spend a little time off the beaten track, you'll fall irrevocably in love with the land, its people, its nature, and its history. 

Hidden Karoo is not only informative, but it really *is* a beautiful book, filled with stunning photographs, bits of history and architectural detail, and plenty of information to get you planning your next road trip. The authors have divided the Karoo into a variety of regions, each of which is treated in a chapter, from the Tankwa in the west, the dry interior, and all the way east to the Camdeboo. 

South Africa's history is incredibly complex, the stories often painful when one examines the role colonisation and war played in shaping our nation. And by the same measure, we are left with a rich melange melding indigenous and European, in a way that is wholly unique and captures the imagination. Hidden Karoo takes you on a journey through time, to Loeriesfontein's collection of windpumps; ancient petroglyphs near Vosburg; British blockhouses of the South African War; outsider artist Helen Martins's Owl House in Nieu Bethesda... I can go on.

This book is a must-have for anyone who loves travel, loves South Africa, and wishes to dig a little deeper into some of the cultural and natural history of a region redolent with contrasts and ancient magic, and I cannot recommend it enough. 

Making Sense by Sam Harris

I've been listening to Sam Harris's podcast on and off now for quite a few years. For those who don't know him, he's an American philosopher and neuroscientist who's possibly best known for unpacking many hot-button topics. Obviously, this has earned him a fair amount of criticism from certain quarters, but it doesn't detract from the manner in which he approaches his rational inquiries. Whether you agree with him or not, I still feel that he often raises points that are worth turning over.

Making Sense is a selection of discussions that appeared on his podcast, and features the likes of Nick Bostrom, David Chalmers, David Deutsch, Daniel Kahneman, David Krakauer, Glenn C Loury, Thomas Metzinger, Robert Sapolsky, Anil Seth, Timothy Snyder, and Max Tegmark. All these contributors are specialists in their fields that range from philosophy and physics to neuroscience and history.

Some of what is covered includes consciousness, notions of the self, the nature of knowledge, intelligence (and AI), ethics, and a range of topics that slot in among these bigger pictures. I'll admit straight up that some of the discussions strayed into territory that I found incredibly challenging, but I'm also a big champion of reading outside of my comfort zone, so this hefty tome most certainly presented a worthy investment of my time that stretched my grey matter a fair bit. So, perhaps a word of caution – this is not an easy read for the average person (like me!). 

My biggest takeaway from Making Sense is that as a species we need to be able to take a collective view that is broader and more objective, and to be especially aware of how easy it is for us to remain within the parameters that are 'easy' or 'less effort'. From what I can glean, there are many exciting developments in the worlds of computer programming and neuroscience, and especially so where the two fields are starting to overlap in the development of AI. It's interesting to see also how the experts in these fields often disagree with each other, but most important is Harris's emphasis on ethics, rationality, and growing an understanding not just how we think, but how we share the collected wisdom for future generations. 

This is most certainly a book to delve into again in the future, especially to see how things might have developed since then. Harris and his contributors often engage in lively debate, and it's good to see some of that flavour translate from the spoken to written word. 

100 Bushveld Trees by Megan Emmett Parker

My identification of trees remains sketchy at best, so 100 Bushveld Trees by Megan Emmett Parker (photographs by Shem Compion) is a perfect volume for me to dip in a little more. Even though I'm based in the Western Cape, many of the trees mentioned in this book do occur here in gardens and parks, so this is was not a complete loss for me.

While this little book is by no means an exhaustive volume, it's perfect for those of us who do have an interest in the flora of southern Africa and need a departure point to enrich their knowledge. Beautifully laid out, this book gives readers a 101 on the terminology used for the structure of trees, from their overall shape down to their leaves, bark, fruit, flowers and other identifying features. 

Thereafter, the sections are divided according to giant trees, spiky trees, simple leaves, compound leaves and more to help pinpoint basic characteristics – which is helpful if you need to narrow down. Each species covered is then introduced in terms of its uses, as well as accompanying characteristics, from bark and leaf to flowers and fruit. Each is also clarified with relevant photos to assist in identification – very useful.

What struck me after reading through this was how incredibly useful many of our species are – not only for the wood, but also in many cases traditional medicines and edible fruit. I certainly came away from this reading with a much greater appreciation for the complexities of our indigenous tree species and the important roles they play within our ecosystems – not only providing shelter but food as well. 

Overkill by James Clarke

How many South Africans of my generation remember visiting a lion park or reserve where one had the opportunity of bottle feeding lion cubs? I do. Like many visitors, we were fed the lie that South Africa was breeding lions for "conservation purposes". Sadly, this was far from the truth. Oh, South Africa had thousands of lions, but what these lion parks or farms were not telling us, was that these hand-reared lions were not being sent to go live out their lives in some glorious bushveld. No, they were being shot by wealthy foreigners supporting our country's barbaric canned lion hunting industry.

This is just one of the topics James Clarke touches on in his book Overkill, which makes for some pretty gripping (and horrifying) reading for anyone who's interested in finding out more about how the African continent's megafauna is faring. If you're wondering who Clarke is, he's one of the founders of the wildlife NGO the Endangered Wildlife Trust, whom I'm sure you'd have heard about if you're conservation minded.

Clarke takes you on a journey of understanding the complexities of mankind's relationship with wildlife, and how its colonial past has also contributed greatly to the way the continent's natural resources are exploited today. Whether it's the lion, elephant, rhino or whale, or just generally humankind's attitude to the wild, it's something that needs to be discussed.

He lays a large portion of the blame for the current extermination of species at the feet of the Chinese government, and the continued trade in goods such as ivory as well as the misconceptions that rhino horn and yes, even crushed lion bones, serve some sort of medicinal purpose. Clarke doesn't shy away from pointing out that broad-sweeping corruption all the way up to government is responsible for the continued pillaging of natural resources.

Perhaps what he doesn't state overtly (and I don't know if this is intentional) is that mankind's increasing population – with its resultant pressure placed on the environment – is perhaps also a factor that needs to be taken into account. We simply cannot continue reproducing at the rate we are. (All right, but that's basically my take on it.)

While Clarke doesn't come out against responsible hunting – he acknowledges that proper management of natural resources does have benefits in the long run – I do echo his sentiment that it would be better if mankind could eventually curb this lust to hunt game. The overall picture he paints about the state of conservation in Africa in general, is quite grim, but it's not without its glimmers of hope. For Africa's wildlife to survive, we need to bring together international communities to recognise the importance of the continent's wildlife for all.

Clarke writes clearly, and with great passion, and I heartily recommend this book to anyone who has an interest in the environment and its conservation. He touches on a broad range of issues in a manner that is handled sensitively, and it is my belief that this is an important work that attempts to examine the complexities of issues in a nuanced fashion.

Kingdom of Daylight: Memories of a Birdwatcher by Peter Steyn

A little back story here: When I was in primary school, Standard 4, or thereabouts, I won a book prize for my academic activities and my class teacher gave me the Robert's Bird Guide for the southern African region. Little did that teacher know that they would be sparking a life-long interest in our avian friends (not that I needed much nudging, since I had grown up on a steady diet of nature documentaries and was still hell bent on going into nature conservation*).

So, imagine my frabjous joy when Peter Steyn's Kingdom of Daylight: Memories of a Birdwatcher landed on my desk. [Serious bird geek here, all right?]

Anyhow, here's the low-down for those who don't know about Steyn. Though he started out as a teacher, his all-consuming passion for the study and photography of birds led him to eventually go full time with his interest, and this man has written piles of books. Piles. And his photos are just bloody marvellous. His patience for sitting in a hide to snap that one perfect shot makes me realise exactly how much work goes into those wonderful bird books I took for granted when I was younger (yes, I own a hardcover, first edition of The Complete Book of South African Birds that my parents couldn't really afford to buy for me at the time but did anyway.)

Kingdom of Daylight is, in a nutshell, Steyn's summary of his adventures throughout his life, from his boyhood in Cape Town, to the years he spent in Zimbabwe before moving back to Cape Town. Each chapter deals with a location or a specific trip, and discusses not only the many birds he saw there, but also offers glimpses into the lives of the people who're movers and shakers in ornithological circles, as well as some background in his experiences while travelling. And this man has travelled...

There are times when I wish there'd been more space for more photos, because really, the many smaller images in the side panels are a little on the tiny side, so the layout really doesn't do them justice – even though they do give a better idea of the overall scope of Steyn's experiences. At times I did feel that the writing was a wee smidge on the dry side, but overall I realise that he has so much information that he needs to impart in only so much space.

Also, I'm really inspired now myself to sort out my stuff so that I can travel to some of the destinations Steyn has – especially locations like Madagascar and other parts of the African continent. He most certainly has lived a remarkable life. If anything, Steyn reminds me to slow down and really appreciate my own environment because it's not just those exotic birds on any birdwatcher's life list, but most certainly also in the joy of observing the birds I see in my garden every day. Five bats out of Auntie's hat for Peter Steyn.

* Fortunately I did something sensible, and studied graphic design, because in hindsight, as much as I love nature, I don't fancy being chased by elephants or acting as a glorified nanny for foreign tourists at some larny private game reserve.

Gardener's Guide: Indigenous Garden Plants of Southern Africa, a review

Everyone who knows me well, will know how passionate I am about southern Africa's fauna and flora, so when this little tome came up for review, I made the grabby hands for it immediately. I'm so glad I did! But a big disclaimer, if you already own a bunch of books of a more heftier and comprehensive nature, and consider yourself a fair boffin on the topic, this book is most likely not going to be for you. It's *very much* an introduction on the topic and it's literally pocket sized. As in the type is tiny, and there's not a lot of space to pack a helluva lot of information.

That being said, it's a super dinky, cute little book – the kind of slim volume I'd gift to friends and family who are budding gardening enthusiasts with a burgeoning interest in indigenous gardening. Most of the the Gardener's Guide is taken up by a list of plants, divided into trees, shrubs, bedding plants and so on, with illustrative photos giving you an idea of flowers, overall shape/situation in garden, and bark/trunk. A quick-reference table lets you tell at a glance whether the plant attracts butterflies, birds, or what sort of cultivation requirements it has. You'll also be able to scan the basic cultivation tips to choose the right species (and how to care for them). Are you looking for a tree, container plant, or groundcover?

And while there is only so much that can be included, Glenice Ebedes has made a lovely selection of species, many of which bear fruit and flowers that are attractive to insects and birds (and by default other small wildlife). I was quite surprised, actually, to see a number of plants I've known for years in gardens in and around the Cape Peninsula, that I hadn't even known were indigenous.

I think what appeals to me most about the book is the fact that it gives an intro into rethinking gardens along the lines of working with nature and not against it. Southern Africa is blessed with different regions, most notably its succulent biome, as well as fynbos, Afromontane forests and bushveld, among others, and Ebedes suggests choosing a theme for your garden along one of these lines (keeping in mind in which region you live and whether you need to be waterwise – so important these days). By planting indigenous, you increase the biodiversity of your immediate environment, and create refuges for insects, birds and wildlife, during an era where the natural wilderness is under so much pressure thanks to urbanisation, agriculture, mining and pollution.

While this is by no means an exhaustive guide for gardeners, it is a great starting point that will, I hope, encourage folks to learn more about the fascinating and beautiful plants that thrive in our often harsh climate.

Thirty Second World by Emma van der Vliet #review

Title: Thirty Second World
Author: Emma van der Vliet
Publisher: Penguin Books, 2013

Anyone who has ever had a career in advertising will relate to the shenanigans in Emma van der Vliet’s Thirty Second World. We follow the lives of two women, both at different parts of their careers.

Alison, or Al, as she prefers to be known, is a control freak who thrives on micromanaging everyone and everything around her. Consequently, and despite her tough demeanour, she is blind to her own needs. She is a woman who wants everything – a career and a family – and in her bid to prove her worth, her relationships with her partner, friends and children suffer.

On the other side of the coin we have Beth, who’s just starting out in the high-pressure world of commercial filmmaking. Though she has much to learn, about the work and the people, she brings a refreshing attitude to the jaded crew she joins. Beth hits the ground running, despite her lack of experience. Even though she finds her colleagues’ behaviour a bit trying at times, she clearly has a passion for her chosen career. Her primary problem, however, lies at home, with her boyfriend Dan, who struggles with the fact that Beth is getting sucked into the industry.

Beth and Dan’s relationship comes under pressure, which is not helped by the arrival of a predatory male colleague at Beth’s work. Readers will be able to see the inevitable confrontation coming from a mile away – and it does become more than a little bit uncomfortable for all parties involved.

On the whole, there isn’t much of an earth-shattering plot here. Rather, we see the lives of two women bound in work and friendship, come to important realisations about themselves and the people around them. This is a story about friendship and love, set against the backdrop of the Cape Town film industry, with all its ridiculous demands on people’s time. The writing is detailed, and Van der Vliet is adept at painting detailed, fascinating characters. A bit of head-hopping in the narrative did annoy me, as well as a somewhat implausible, out-of-the-blue event involving a spinster aunt near the end, but overall I found this to be an entertaining read that felt spot on regarding the advertising industry I’ve come to know and loathe.

The Bushman Winter Has Come by Paul John Myburgh #review

Title: The Bushman Winter Has Come
Author: Paul John Myburgh
Publisher: Penguin Books, 2014

Up until recently, the Bushmen of the Kalahari Desert roamed “the Great Sand Face”, living as their ancestors had for millennia. Anthropologist Paul John Myburgh expressed his love for Africa and spent seven years wandering with a small band of /Gwikwe Bushmen. The Bushman Winter Has Come is the result of this sojourn.

If you pick up this book and expect a linear story from start to finish, you will be disappointed. If you expect a historical account, forget about it. What you will find is a collection of Myburgh’s impressions and understanding of the way of life of the Bushmen.

Fact and fable commingle in a glorious celebration of survival in a harsh environment and a record of the cosmology of the “First People”. Through this, Myburgh explores that which makes us human and our individual relationships with the environment that has broader repercussions on a bigger scale. In addition, he brings us a record and an understanding of a way of life that is now relegated to the past.

He writes: “The great sadness is not the passing of a people; it is our failure to remember, our failure to bring forward the knowledge, our failure to consecrate the wisdom and so redeem the sacrifice of those who came before us.”

That sense of irrevocable shift in time and place underpins this book, which is at times dreamlike, and others a record of how our ancestors lived.

Myburgh explores the world of his /Gwikwe band with the knowledge of what lies in wait for them, and in that his telling of their lives is tinged with sorrow, for that final change when the people make the decision to move to the settlement is unavoidable.

The world changes and those who are unable or unwilling to adapt will fall by the wayside. While Myburgh’s writing style is uneven, this is nonetheless a haunting treatise that deserves to be treasured. He evokes a sense of place, as well as the spirit of an age, and it is clear that he writes from the heart – and that’s what matters.

On leopards, a chat with Fransje van Riel

Recently I had a chance to read My Life With Leopards: Graham Cooke's Story by Fransje van Riel. Since I was a wee sprog I've always loved real-life accounts of people's interaction with animals, and folks like James Herriot, Gerald Durrell and Joy Adamson often had me spellbound, even if many of the stories didn't always have happy endings. Today I welcome Fransje to my blog, because after reading My Life With Leopards, I absolutely had to chat with her about the writing process. Welcome, Fransje!

For any nature lover, getting the opportunity to write a book like My Life With Leopards is a dream come true. How did this project come into being?

I received an email one morning from Graham, who I didn’t know then, and it took me some time to understand that he was writing to me because he thought I was working with baboons. He had just read my first book, Life with Darwin and Other Baboons (also a Penguin title), and mistakenly believed that I was Karin Saks, who I had written the book about.

Graham Cooke and Fransje van Riel

Whilst I was figuring this out Graham sent me a second email which included his CV, which had a photo of him and Poepface on it. Naturally I was immediately intrigued and asking after it, I slowly learned that he had raised two leopards cubs in the middle of the South African bush. Since I am a huge cat lover, both domestic and otherwise, my senses were piqued and so I came to know more about Graham’s feelings for Boycat and Poepface and the sense of loss he still felt after all these years. When I suggested that he write a book about his experiences, Graham said that he had wanted to do so for many years but that it  had never come about. He had though written a 10 000-word manuscript which he sent to me for appraisal. I knew it wouldn’t work the way he had gone about it and suggested that I write it. And so we began talking, emailing and meeting. I interviewed and taped him for a whole week and then I had the nuts and bolts of the story, so I could begin to start giving shape to the story. This was followed up by countless daily emails until I had the entire scene in my mind and was able to ‘become’ Graham and virtually experience his life with leopards in a very surreal way.

Getting into the mind of someone who's had all these experiences must be quite something. Something that struck me while I was reading was that you managed to very vividly evoke the bush. Were you able to eventually visit Londolozi? How do you slip into a person's skin in this way? 

Graham with the two leopard cubs he cared for.

I liken it to playing an acting role. You just find out as much as what you can about the character and become the part. Only then do you ‘see’ in your mind what and how things would have transpired (according to the information provided by Graham) and translate that into words. I admit that the experiences felt so real that it is as if I was there and knew the cubs and the other characters as well even though I have never been to Londolozi … I was told by someone that the old Tree House still exists, although I am not sure in what state, but I would love to visit Londolozi and visit the exact place where Graham’s old camp stood. I can only imagine it to be a deep and very moving thing to be so close to something that is so intangible …

Well, you certainly did an excellent job bringing across the cubs' personalities, and the very strong bond Graham had with them. And yourself, have you ever had any close encounters with big cats? 

Thank you, Nerine. I have had a few interesting encounters, yes. I was fortunate enough to meet up close and personal several cheetahs that had been rescued from abusive situations and that were cared for by my friend Lise Hanssen, who now researches the demography of spotted hyenas and other large carnivores in the Caprivi. Was also privileges to be present when she darted a large female hyena that she wanted to radio collar to study her movements on Google Earth. Fascinating to be so close! Also just last year I was on holiday in the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park on the South African side only to have a large male lion come up the dune slope and walk right past my unit at less than 4 meters distance without any fence. I was astounded afterwards to realise that I hadn’t been scared as the lion had no ill intent at all and just traipsed past as a short cut to access his pride over the opposite dune. It goes to show that as people we are so out of tune with nature that we find it difficult to perceive large cats as anything but dangerous. In a sense that is what I do hope the book will bring about; a sense of respect and understanding for animals such as leopards. Yes, they are proficient at killing prey for food and yes, in our horribly overpopulated world we compete with them for space, but given the opportunity they are as capable as forging a close bond and develop trust with humans as some other, more domestic type of animals.

Each book an author writes is a journey. Would you say that writing My Life With Leopards with Graham has changed you in any way? 

Not changed so much, but certainly enriched. I feel a depth; very strong emotional feelings for those two leopards and I often think about them. I ‘see’ Boycat and Poepface walking along the riverbed and even more so in Zambia. It is as if their energy has somehow infiltrated in some areas of my life and sometimes this can still move me to tears.

Yours is certainly a special gift – being able to step into someone else's shoes to allow readers to see the world through different eyes. Can you share briefly how you came to be doing this sort of writing? Are there any special qualities you feel an author needs? 

I think it is a combination of reporting on someone/something (I also like to write travel features and my own travel experiences) and share that which I see with others, combined with a very strong sense of awe and wonder I have for the natural world, and wanting to impart that on other people who are open to it. As a child I was always writing notes and little poems although I completely forgot about my early love for writing and headed in an entirely different direction; working for an airline. That indirectly though brought me to Africa and that inspired me to write again. When I moved to SA in 1997 I wrote a travel story and to my own surprise managed to sell it. That was the beginning of many stories (see www.fransjevanriel.com).

During one of my trips to Kenya (on a stay-over as cabin crew) I recall saying out of the blue that one day I was going to write a book. I had no idea where it came from, but many years later I did, with two more to come. I think as with everything in order to do something well you need to have a genuine love and interest for that which you do. Maybe a little skill and experience helps too J

The one thing I do know is that as an author you need a hell of a lot of commitment, dedication and sheer discipline. Add to that a sprinkle of doggedness and a good dose of stubbornness… Once the words flow it all seems so easy, but behind any line, paragraph, page and chapter lies an unseen world of hard work, frustration, joy and belief in that which you are trying to get across.

See the Facebook page My Life With Leopards  and my website www.fransjevanriel.com

BIO
Fransje van Riel was born in Holland but moved to the UK where she spent the majority of her teenage school years in the rural countryside of East Sussex.

After her return to The Netherlands, she started working as a flight attendant for KLM Royal Dutch Airlines. Frequent flights to Africa revealed a long lost passion for wildlife, which culminated into resigning from the airline in 1997 to make the move to the African continent.

Here she embarked on a career in writing and, after publishing numerous wildlife and travel related stories for South African magazines, Fransje started writing Life With Darwin and Other Baboons, a book on Karin Saks, who dedicated her life to the welfare of primates and which eventually led to the production of Baboon Woman, a full-length British television documentary.

The book was published by Penguin SA and was translated in Dutch and published by The House of Books.

Fransje’s second book of non-fiction The Crowing of the Roosters was published in 2006 by South African publishing house David Philip and, consequently, in Holland by Arena Books. The Crowing of the Roosters was nominated later that year for Africa’s premier literary award The Sunday Times / Alan Paton Award.

In between writing freelance articles on wildlife, animals, travel and conservation issues, Fransje is active in raising awareness for several animal welfare projects, including rousing media interest for a local one-woman organisation called SAMAST, which is dedicated to consistent spaying of dogs and cats in Cape Town’s disadvantaged areas.

Fransje lives in a leafy suburb in Cape Town where she enjoys writing in the companionship of her three cats.