I figure that I should be keeping up to date with writing down my thoughts about the books I’ve read. Relatively close proximity to the reading is probably going to do a better job of relaying information than distant memory… So here goes.

Cry The Beloved Country by Alan Paton was Christmas Break reading material. Riding the bus around Belize was conducive to inhaling books for some family members but not myself unfortunately. I finished it up during the first week of school instead.

Cry, the Beloved Country is a story written in the years leading into the establishment of full fledged apartheid in South Africa. The novel tells the story of two sons who leave Ixopo, the village of their pseudo-common-heritage and move to the big city of Johannesburg. There they create lives for themselves, but the lives they are able to choose are dictated for them by their race. The black man, trapped by a culture of ‘native crime’, becomes a criminal and murderer. Paton contends loosely that this cannot be far from inevitable due to the lack of any social structure for the black population following the breakdown of the tribal system. The white man, who is thrust into success and education by the color of his skin, then is unfortunately forced to live with the consequences of the society built around him. The story is told through the experience of the black umfundisi of Ixopo seeking out his lost son in the big city. Through his travels and discussions the reader learns why the nation is hurting, and is prompted to cry or at least ache a bit, because the health and beauty of what once was is no longer seen in day to day life. While the main storyline is enough to drag you along and sucks you in, I found that it was the side stories: the history of the slums, the discussion about the economics of the mining industry, and the recurring failure to establish quality agriculture that make the book fantastic. They’re really the bits and pieces that bring to light how damaged the country had become.

While we now can look back at the pain that South Africa went through and be thankful that things are finally slowly turning around towards reconciliation I feel an urge to pause and wonder what role I’m playing to push social structures that are unjust. Paton’s message is of course multi-faceted but the bit that caught me repeatedly is the ability of society to come to half of a resolution and then move forward, never having really done justice to an injustice.

“In the meantime the strike is over, with a remarkably low loss of life. All is quiet they report, all is quiet.

In the deserted harbour there is yet water that laps against the quays. In the dark and silent forest there is a leaf that falls. Behind the polished paneling the white ant eats away the wood. Nothing is ever quiet except for fools.” — page 224

While I cannot sit here and list all of the “social structures” I’m supporting I am wise enough to realize that I do so, and do so frequently and forcefully in daily life.