The Mirrors that come Out of Shadows
I recently wrote to someone about Out of Shadows (Jason Wallace). It's set in Zimbabwe in the early 1980s at a school that is Peterhouse in all but name. I have since made a school-boy error (pun intended) by giving Out of Shadows to Nadeema before writing this because now I don’t have it to hand to reference. I wanted to write about it here because I find have many things to say about it. It gave me nightmares for a week, for one.
The tale is new and something a little different. It doesn't conform to the Rhodesiana genre that has become so standard. That is, the Rhodesiana narrative tends to begin with tales of a magical childhood filled with chameleons, bush walks, and interactions with the domestic servants. The protagonist grows up innocent of the
political context but as he/she matures the background political turmoil begins to invade. The point when childhood innocence is completely lost generally coincides with the "great change" that came at the end of the Liberation War. The names on the street signs are changed, black people start come to school and black politicians appear on TV. Everything is different and subtly sinister and there are no more chameleons.
In Out of Shadows, we skip over the idyllic childhood and start with the "great change". The narrative is told by an outsider who starts by relating what he sees but who is gradually and unavoidably drawn in and becomes part of the madness.
Wallace repeatedly sets up situations that suggest something predictable, a commonplace narrative ingredient, and then he surprises the reader. Situations such as Jacklin's white-boy-black-boy friendship with Nelson, or the history teacher who enters through the classroom window and wow's the room with his non-traditional approach to teaching - Jacklin quickly abandons Nelson and the history teacher turns out to be more sinister in his revolutionary zeal.
Also different is Wallace's full frontal description of the rawness of emotions post-war and his 'no holds barred' details of what people suffered (Ivan's mother stepping on a landmine, his classmate's brother dead against a tree with his cock in his mouth). He portrays people who are scarred by war, have lost that war and who are angry and suspicious of the peace they find themselves a part of.
The strongest element of the book is undoubtedly the way Wallace leverages the dynamics of a boys' boarding school to develop his story. Jacklin's friendships with Nelson, its dissolution and the friendship which follows with Ivan are really well developed. It is vivid (perhaps more so to me who went to Peterhouse), the dialogue is well written and it is utterly convincing.
Where Wallace is weak, however, is where he tries to write about what he does not know (and, in some cases, hasn't even bothered to research).
The black characters in the story - other than Nelson who is still decidedly saintly - are props more than characters and fall into two stereotyped categories. They are either savage and unpredictable (the 5th Brigade and Kasanka) or they are stoic and defenceless (such as Weekend).
I don't entirely understand why the Nelson's disappearance does not create more of a stir. Surely there would be a police investigation and much more attention given to a student who is neither at school nor at home? (Calderwood would go spare.) It was of some surprise to me that Robert finds Nelson's grave later on in the book, I was under the impression that Nelson left the school given how little was said about his absence beyond that he was missing for eight days.
For some reason, Wallace chooses to spell the Shona dialogue phonetically rather than correctly. It is, after all, a written language. Why write "Mah we" when 'maiwe' is correct? Similarly "fojiga" is 'fodya' (tobacco). I'm not sure what he was trying to achieve, other than to suggest that these were alien sounds. But any Shona speaker could understand what is being said from the way that it is (poorly) spelt.
He also makes free use of Peter Godwin (never a Selous Scout nor a revolutionary), interfering government officials and the Fifth Brigade as plot devices. A little more nuance and less sensationalism might have made for a better story.
Finally, the twist. It is not only ridiculous it is philosophically unsound and what could have been a great book becomes an average book as a result. In order to appreciate the plot twist, one has to know that Mugabe once said "let me be Hitler tenfold" and also be of the opinion that Mugabe was a genocidal dictator on a par with Adolf
Hitler. The latter is certainly debatable, so we're already on shaky ground.
But even if it weren't debatable, the point of the moral question the the History Teacher (I cannot remember his name!) puts to the class is that Adolf Hitler was undoubtedly the most evil man in history and therefore, although murder is wrong, it might be justifiable to commit one murder if you could save thousands. Yet Ivan has established himself as a sociopath well on his way to Hitler-like proportions carrying out at least 3 murders before the tender age of 18. If Jacklin found himself with a gun in hand and Mugabe in range, the moral question may be applicable. But since Ivan is holding the gun, it's not remotely relevant.
Wallace could possibly have had the History Teacher ask "would you shoot Hitler or Stalin?". But even then, Ivan is such a repulsive little wanker that I would still have no hesitation in saying "shoot Ivan, let Mugabe live!"
Nevertheless, the story pushed emotional buttons for me. It is 'gloves off' when dealing with White Zimbabwean emotions post-war. The bleak nature of bullying at school and the aloneness one feels when cut off from adult protection really spoke out. The image of someone being machine-gunned with an AK47 on the grass between the Fieldsend and Tinokura will remain burned into my mind's eye for a long time to come.
The tale is new and something a little different. It doesn't conform to the Rhodesiana genre that has become so standard. That is, the Rhodesiana narrative tends to begin with tales of a magical childhood filled with chameleons, bush walks, and interactions with the domestic servants. The protagonist grows up innocent of the
political context but as he/she matures the background political turmoil begins to invade. The point when childhood innocence is completely lost generally coincides with the "great change" that came at the end of the Liberation War. The names on the street signs are changed, black people start come to school and black politicians appear on TV. Everything is different and subtly sinister and there are no more chameleons.
In Out of Shadows, we skip over the idyllic childhood and start with the "great change". The narrative is told by an outsider who starts by relating what he sees but who is gradually and unavoidably drawn in and becomes part of the madness.
Wallace repeatedly sets up situations that suggest something predictable, a commonplace narrative ingredient, and then he surprises the reader. Situations such as Jacklin's white-boy-black-boy friendship with Nelson, or the history teacher who enters through the classroom window and wow's the room with his non-traditional approach to teaching - Jacklin quickly abandons Nelson and the history teacher turns out to be more sinister in his revolutionary zeal.
Also different is Wallace's full frontal description of the rawness of emotions post-war and his 'no holds barred' details of what people suffered (Ivan's mother stepping on a landmine, his classmate's brother dead against a tree with his cock in his mouth). He portrays people who are scarred by war, have lost that war and who are angry and suspicious of the peace they find themselves a part of.
The strongest element of the book is undoubtedly the way Wallace leverages the dynamics of a boys' boarding school to develop his story. Jacklin's friendships with Nelson, its dissolution and the friendship which follows with Ivan are really well developed. It is vivid (perhaps more so to me who went to Peterhouse), the dialogue is well written and it is utterly convincing.
Where Wallace is weak, however, is where he tries to write about what he does not know (and, in some cases, hasn't even bothered to research).
The black characters in the story - other than Nelson who is still decidedly saintly - are props more than characters and fall into two stereotyped categories. They are either savage and unpredictable (the 5th Brigade and Kasanka) or they are stoic and defenceless (such as Weekend).
I don't entirely understand why the Nelson's disappearance does not create more of a stir. Surely there would be a police investigation and much more attention given to a student who is neither at school nor at home? (Calderwood would go spare.) It was of some surprise to me that Robert finds Nelson's grave later on in the book, I was under the impression that Nelson left the school given how little was said about his absence beyond that he was missing for eight days.
For some reason, Wallace chooses to spell the Shona dialogue phonetically rather than correctly. It is, after all, a written language. Why write "Mah we" when 'maiwe' is correct? Similarly "fojiga" is 'fodya' (tobacco). I'm not sure what he was trying to achieve, other than to suggest that these were alien sounds. But any Shona speaker could understand what is being said from the way that it is (poorly) spelt.
He also makes free use of Peter Godwin (never a Selous Scout nor a revolutionary), interfering government officials and the Fifth Brigade as plot devices. A little more nuance and less sensationalism might have made for a better story.
Finally, the twist. It is not only ridiculous it is philosophically unsound and what could have been a great book becomes an average book as a result. In order to appreciate the plot twist, one has to know that Mugabe once said "let me be Hitler tenfold" and also be of the opinion that Mugabe was a genocidal dictator on a par with Adolf
Hitler. The latter is certainly debatable, so we're already on shaky ground.
But even if it weren't debatable, the point of the moral question the the History Teacher (I cannot remember his name!) puts to the class is that Adolf Hitler was undoubtedly the most evil man in history and therefore, although murder is wrong, it might be justifiable to commit one murder if you could save thousands. Yet Ivan has established himself as a sociopath well on his way to Hitler-like proportions carrying out at least 3 murders before the tender age of 18. If Jacklin found himself with a gun in hand and Mugabe in range, the moral question may be applicable. But since Ivan is holding the gun, it's not remotely relevant.
Wallace could possibly have had the History Teacher ask "would you shoot Hitler or Stalin?". But even then, Ivan is such a repulsive little wanker that I would still have no hesitation in saying "shoot Ivan, let Mugabe live!"
Nevertheless, the story pushed emotional buttons for me. It is 'gloves off' when dealing with White Zimbabwean emotions post-war. The bleak nature of bullying at school and the aloneness one feels when cut off from adult protection really spoke out. The image of someone being machine-gunned with an AK47 on the grass between the Fieldsend and Tinokura will remain burned into my mind's eye for a long time to come.
Had he written a story about boarding school, boyhood and white Zimbabweans in early 1980s, he would have dazzled the reader with his talent and potentially offered up a mirror for self reflection. But, by trying to introduce a facet to the narrative that he knows too little about and which he has hasn't sought to fully understand, the mirror is removed and the reflection is nothing but a blank bleakness of an empty mouth.
posted by Kait at 11:59 pm
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