The Theory of Flight – Siphiwe Gloria Ndlovu

This book was a birthday gift. I’d never heard of the title before I received it, nor of the Zimbabwean author. I finished the book a few days ago, and have been thinking of it ever since.

One point to make right at the start is that I almost put the book down when I read the prologue, and realised that one of the story’s foundation stones is the shooting down of a passenger plane.

However … I read on, and I was fascinated. The writing is beautiful.

At the heart of the story is Genie – beautiful and defiant, and profoundly giving. She knows love and gentleness, and always holds true to those, despite the dislocation, disloyalty, and disease that follow her into adulthood. It is her life that links together the many other characters in the book who surround her, some intersecting with her only briefly or indirectly but each of them adding their own flawed humanity to the context through which Genie evolves.

That, for me, is the chewy soul of this book – the way it gives villains and heroes alike, lives and hopes and dreams. No person is right or wrong, regardless of whether they are navigating or inflicting trauma. They are simply revealed, their day to day sharply focused, but their roles smudged around the edges with magic realism. There is real trauma, but it is blurred in a way that spares the reader.

The impression I’ve been left with is of a book that is gentle, but also devastatingly powerful. I loved the writing, and would rate it as one of the most striking novels I’ve read by a Zimbabwean author.

(The copy I have is published by Catalyst Press. The novel was originally published by Penguin Books in South Africa in 2018. It won the Barry Ronge Prize for Debut Fiction in South Africa.)

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

A Lighter Side of Africa

“I do enjoy attempting to make something completely ludicrous appear perfectly feasible.

Here is another gift, given to me by a Zimbabwean friend.

I had never seen, or even heard of this book before, and all I can say is that I am so pleased to have its happy take on life lying on the table beside me.

It is a coffee table size book full of paintings by Michael J Allard. Each painting has a full page to itself, with a write up on the opposite page. This normally gives a little information on how and why each painting came to be, as well as some details about the wild animals depicted.

The painting ‘Rhino Hoopla’, shows three boys crouched behind a bush, attempting to throw a hoop over the horn of the wild rhino standing obligingly still while they try. The idea is ridiculous, but the scene is painted so vividly with a storm drowning the hills behind, that you almost believe it.

There is also a painting of two boys being towed on a blanket behind a warthog, with a flock of African sacred Ibis flying above them. The title of that painting is ‘Drag Racing – Africa Style’. On the opposite page there is description of how the painting came to be which begins with the quotation by the artist: “I do enjoy attempting to make something completely ludicrous appear perfectly feasible.”

Another image is of an elephant shaking his head, scattering baboons in every direction as it does so.

There are so many images that are such a pleasure to look at again and again. Nearly every one depicts a cheery mix up of the people and wild animals the artist knew in Africa – Zimbabwe in particular I think, as that was where Michael Allard spent his childhood and schooldays, and it was the country he returned to in 1980 after over a decade of travel and study in other lands.

There is more information about the artist in the forward to the book, but I know nothing more than that. I’ll try to find out a little more if I can.

If you’re interested, the paintings in the book have been collected together by Kerry Hastings-Spital (kerryhastingsspital@gmail.com).

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

About a book – ‘The Bottom Line’

The first book I finished this year was The Bottom Line. It was the cover that attracted me, the red soils and farmland taking me back to my childhood, spent on a farm not far from where Richard Winkfield was writing.

The book is made up of short articles, written by the author some three decades ago, for The Farmer magazine in Zimbabwe. As well as being a columnist, Richard Winkfield used to run the Agricultural Research Trust (ART) farm, outside Harare. He was the director there from 1985 – 2000, the years covered by this collection of articles, years that began with such hope for Zimbabwe’s farmers.

I know about that time, but for much of it I was outside the country. I missed the day to day, and was not present during the destructive years that ripped the farms and the farming communities apart. Reading The Bottom Line took me back there.

The stories and advice are aimed at fellow farmers. Minimum tillage is a big theme, alongisde personnel issues, and glimpses of what’s going on in the rest of the world. The book is full of resilience and hope, and refuses to let go of that hope, despite the anguish it refers to at the end.

I found the read both easy and unsettling – a bit like watching a storm develop off a shore that cannot see what is about to hit it.

If you’re interested in Zimbabwe’s farming story I hope you’ll be able to find a copy of the book. I only wish I had bought more than one. In case it might be of use here is the ISBN: 978-0-7974-4688-5.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023