It immersed me in a world I know little about with well-drawn diverse characters. It gave me a glimpse into post-Apartheid South Africa when AIDS is rampant, and how it affect(ed) those in different socio-economic situations.

This is at heart a coming-of-age novel, unshrinkingly autobiographical in its depiction of what is clearly the author’s own family and background: the privileged upbringing on a prosperous farm in the centre of South Africa, the elite schools she and her beloved brother, Paul, attend, the tensions between her stern father and the rebellious brother. All recounted in a deadpan faux-naïve voice, which is often hilarious but also needle-sharp in its puncturing of the posturings and pretensions of upper-middle-class white South Africans. But at the centre of the largely satirical account is the tragic story of the decline and fall of the beautiful, talented, hyper-sensitive Paul and his early death from a drug overdose. A masterpiece of controlled perspective and flexible tone. 

When I moved to Botswana, I wanted to learn more about the country, where I should live for more than 2 years. Somebody gave me books by Bessie Head and I learned so much by just reading these books. Maru was not the only book I’d read by Bessie Head, but it was one of the best books on Botswana.

Bosman is one of South Africa’s finest short story writers and these funny, gentle, poignant tales are set in the wild northern reaches of the country where farmers struggle to make ends meet. I am particularly drawn to the way Bosman captures the landscape of bushveld and Kalahari, of wild animals and a hardy pioneering way of life. It’s also a corner of South Africa that I love to go on safari to enjoy the Big Game experience, encountering elephants, rhinos, lions, and the like…

Benny Griessel has elements of a stereotypical cop who drinks too much and loses his family as a result, but Griessel’s humanity and self-loathing set him apart as a protagonist. He doesn’t believe that he’s any good as a detective or a human being, yet his ability to solve murders and to connect with people contradict this self-destructive inner dialogue. Themes of redemption, forgiveness, and revenge drive the book (and series), making this more layered than a simple whodunit. I like Griessel’s resolve to change and become a better person, even as he fights having a drink every hour of every day. His compassion, empathy, and humility ultimately seal the deal for me. I particularly enjoy the glimpses Meyer gives into South African society and policing.

I picked up this book because of its haunting cover—a black-and-white photograph of a girl staring directly into the camera’s lens. From the very first line, I knew I’d encountered something special. Without giving too much away, this book follows a South African family—the Swarts—throughout their lives. What most stuck with me was Galgut’s narration: a slippery voice that fluidly moves between the first and third person. This novel is a masterclass in narrative deftness and possibility. I can’t recommend it highly enough.  

I find H.Rider Haggard's famous tales of adventure (e.g. King Solomon's Mines) pretty disgusting: bunch of white guys in southern Africa, where they can slaughter and loot at will, far from the constraints of “civilised” society.

But “She” is one of a kind. A perilous wilderness, where the people who put pots on the heads of strangers have a very sinister outlook on life (these are cooking pots, and this is a stranded population, desperate for protein). Their immortal goddess (originally Ancient Greek?) lives in a tomb, doesn't seem to eat or drink; talks like a spoilt, entitled Victorian debutante, and fascinates our hero.

I imagine the author, a humble civil servant when not dreaming of glorious gory derring-do, met young ladies of her kind socially, and was snubbed a few times. She pays... and I won't spoil the horror of it for you, but it's pretty bad! A guilty… show more.

Together with John Laband, the late Paul Thompson did an enormous amount to bring to light African perspectives on the war. Originally published in a limited edition in South Africa, this is a study of the Natal Native Contingent raised by the British as auxiliaries from African tribes and groups hostile to the Zulu. Poorly armed, they were blamed unjustly by contemporaries for the British defeat at Isandlwana and roundly blamed thereafter for atrocities associated with the aftermath of subsequent British victories. Thompson’s work is a valuable reminder of the often forgotten part played by Africans in the defeat of their fellow Africans by imperial forces.   

I would describe this book as a future-mediaeval tale. It is beautifully written and a joy to read.

An exquisitely compiled tale that weaves fantasy and science fiction around the lives of Viola and her mysterious young apprentice, Jo. Storytellers both, they travel along a spirited trail, on land and in space, with each hiding their own secrets. 

A superb read that takes you into the lives of these outcasts on the run. Highly recommended.

Isandlwana and Rorke’s Drift have overshadowed the other battles of the war. By way of contrast, Huw Jones provides a detailed study of the British No. 4 Column commanded by Sir Evelyn Wood and its actions at Hlobane and Kambula in March 1879. Like Isandlwana, Hlobane was a disaster, which was mitigated the next day by the repulse of the main Zulu army at Kambula. The Utrecht District, from which Wood operated, was also a key area in which British, Boer, and Zulu interests clashed. Jones’s book deserves to be much better known as a fine study of the political complexities of the region in question before and during the war, as well as providing expert analysis of the military operations there.