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.

Granite by Jenny Robson

Granite by Jenny Robson is a quick read aimed at younger readers (I'd say about 10-14 or thereabouts) that dips into the world of the young nobleman Mokomba, as he narrates the story of the downfall of the great African city Zimba Remabwe. His version of events is supplemented by the notes shared by his friend Shafiq, whose general knowledge and literacy offers context.

The king of Zimba Remabwe tasks Mokomba's father with finding out the secrets of building cathedrals in the style of the "Milk People" to the north, so a party sets out upon a dangerous journey, by land and by boat, until they reach England. What they find there and what they bring back is not quite what they expect, and we are offered the story bit by bit by unreliable narrators until we eventually have the bigger picture.

Jenny's writing style is engaging and fluid, and her love of the setting shines through with this telling that brings us an Africa-centred adventure, and a young man's coming of age. My only complaint is that the story is too short – there was so much potential to expand this into something more layered. This is a fascinating glimpse into a world of tradition and history, and I was left wondering what else could have been added to give the story further depth. As it is, this is a poignant read that may spark interest for those who'd like to know more about African history.

New Keepers by Jayne Bauling

It’s absolutely wonderful to see more SFF being taken on by South African publishers, and Jayne Bauling’s New Keepers is clearly an engaging first novel in what I suspect will turn into a series. Bauling’s post-apocalyptic dystopia sees the survivors of a global catastrophe living in an age dubbed the Prosperity, where every aspect of their lives is controlled by an authoritarian government that provides for all their needs. Society has been stratified into strict castes, each with its own function – the high cost for protection in a hostile world. Only a lucky few are allowed to have children, and you are constantly in fear of being subjected to ominous sounding processes known as Parking or Rinsing.

Our protagonist Jabz is a Stain – a particular caste that lives out in the Margins, at the edges of the Prosperity and in the ruins of the old world. He has a gift for knowing which plants can heal, and in his smoke-visions he’s called to a mysterious mountain that exists far out in the wilds. But he can’t do this alone – he has to bring together a team to help him finance the quest, which is why he assembles a ragtag bunch to accompany him. It’s a bit of a Starship Enterprise scenario as the merry band of misfits boldly venture forth into the unknown.

Bauling has a strong narrative voice and it was lovely to read a YA novel that didn’t shy away from the realities of human existence. I did to a degree feel as if the novel lagged somewhat in the start, but considering that a degree of world building was necessary to establish the milieu, and that this is clearly a first book in a series, this is unavoidable. In addition, the cast of characters is large, and I did feel at times that they didn’t truly get an opportunity to shine or have sufficiently fleshed out character arcs. And I understand how difficult this is – keeping the story flowing forward but having enough threads to develop later if you have a bigger picture in mind.

Towards the end, I did feel almost as if the pace hurried a bit too much and that important bits were glossed over – especially in terms of the try/fail cycles that characters experienced. I’d personally have liked to see a bit more tension, more lows and highs to offer contrast within the overarching structure, as well as more detail in terms of action sequences.

These things considered, New Keepers is still a great read that I enjoyed and made me care about the characters; I’m a sucker for imagining post-technological southern Africa and the sort of what ifs that come into being from envisioning possible futures. New Keepers blends the magical with a dystopian future, and I’m curious to see where the author will take Jabz and his friends.