A novel that delves deep into the complex issues of racial division, social injustice, and the prevalent violence in South Africa during the 1940s. 'Cry The Beloved Country' is not just a story about the harsh realities of that era but also a moving account of two men who manage to transcend the bitterness and tension. Stephen Kumalo, a Zulu pastor, and Jarvis, a white man, find their lives intertwined when Stephen's son takes the life of Jarvis' son.

The novel further explores the deprivation endured by the blacks, depicting life in both a small African village and the highly populated city of Johannesburg. It offers a vivid and poignant portrayal of the stark contrasts and inequalities that existed.

This book is truly one of the best I have ever read. Its powerful narrative and深刻的主题will stay with me for a very long time, making me reflect on the importance of unity, forgiveness, and understanding in the face of adversity.

Alan Paton's 1948 novel, Cry the Beloved Country, is a profound and multi-faceted tale that delves far beyond the era of Apartheid in South Africa.

It explores numerous themes such as the power of faith, the unwavering strength of family bonds, the capacity for resilience, the contrast between urban and rural environments, the concept of forgiveness, and even the possibility of reconciliation. All of these are vividly portrayed within a rich biblical context.

The novel was written by a man who spent his life as a teacher, including 14 years at a reform school for native African offenders, with no initial intention of becoming a novelist. The story behind the creation of Alan Paton's manuscript is a fascinating one in itself.

The reader is presented with a stark picture of the deep-seated prejudice and inequality within South Africa, particularly in the rigid response of the Dutch-descended Afrikaners to racial segregation. The novel was published just months before the installation of Apartheid by the National Party government in 1948.

Much of the story is set in the small town of Ndotsheni in the Natal Province of South Africa, where the main character, Stephen Kumalo, and his family live in a state of perpetual poverty. Their lives are disrupted by a drought and the downfall of Stephen's son, Absalom, in the slums of Johannesburg.

Stephen Kumalo, an Anglican priest, is always referred to with respect as Umfúndisi. Despite his tattered clothes and stained clerical collar, his hope and faith in God remain unwavering.

Without revealing the specific plot details or the conclusion of the story, it involves two families, one white and the other not, who are ultimately brought together in a transformative way. The novel was written during the era of Apartheid, a time when it must have been seen as a source of hope for those who longed for its end.

Alan Paton's strong stance in favor of racial equality led to the seizure of his passport, preventing him from traveling outside South Africa for a decade. In the novel, the passages detailing the pain experienced by the wealthy white character, Mr. Jarvis, after the death of his son are particularly moving.

Arthur, Mr. Jarvis's son, comes to the realization that the problems faced by native Africans are not due to their nature but rather the destruction of their tribal system. The novel offers an uplifting message about the potential for forgiveness and reconciliation, as seen in the intertwined lives of Mr. Jarvis and Mr. Kumalo.

Through the characters in Cry the Beloved Country, especially Stephen Kumalo, the reader can sense the harsh reality of Ndotsheni and understand the complexity of the lives of its inhabitants. For this reason, and because the novel has renewed my hope for a troubled part of the world and for mankind in general, I highly recommend it.

The novel has been adapted into an opera by Kurt Weill and two film versions, one in 1951 and another in 1995 starring James Earl Jones and Richard Harris. My Scribner Library version of the book is a rare 1959 paperback edition bound in signature.

This book is truly one of those remarkable classics that I am extremely glad I had the opportunity to read. However, I must admit that I will probably never pick it up again.

The themes explored within its pages are of utmost importance. Racial equality, morality, and forgiveness are all delicately interwoven throughout the narrative. The writing style is lyrical, which adds a certain charm and beauty to the story.

Yet, it is undeniably a difficult read. Alan Paton's choice not to use any quotation marks can be quite challenging. Instead, he prefaced each line of dialogue with a dash. While I could potentially get used to this technique if he were consistent, unfortunately, he is not.

Sometimes, the dialogue is seamlessly integrated into the middle of a paragraph, with no clear indication that it is being spoken aloud. This made it incredibly frustrating for me, as I often had to re-read entire passages multiple times to determine whether someone was talking, merely thinking, or if it was just the author providing us with additional information.

The story is set in South Africa, and it provided me with a valuable insight into why that country has endured such turmoil and chaos for such a long time. With its diverse range of races, languages, belief systems, and classes, it is truly astonishing that anything manages to get accomplished there at all.

It is fascinating to witness the far-reaching effects of apartheid and the growing pains of a nation striving to achieve equality for all races. Although the book was written in the 1940s and a great deal has changed since its initial publication, it still serves as a powerful cautionary tale.

Overall, this book is a complex and multi-faceted work that is both infuriating and inspiring. Its slow pace may test the patience of some readers, but it is undoubtedly worth the time and effort invested in it.

But there is only one thing that has power completely, and this is love. Because when a man loves, he seeks no power, and therefore he has power.

Stephen Kumalo, a Zulu and an Anglican priest, lives in a small farming community reserved for the natives. One day, he and his wife receive a letter from Johannesburg, urging him to visit the city as his sister Gertrude needs help. Many from his tribe have gone to the city and never returned, including his own son. So, Stephen sets off to find them.

The city is a confusing place for the simple tribal priest. He is soon taken advantage of but befriended by Reverend Msimangu, who sent the letter and helps him navigate and locate his missing family members. He first finds his sister Gertrude, who has succumbed to alcohol and prostitution and has a neglected child. He takes them to his boarding house, intending to bring them back to the village. He also finds his brother, who has been rallying the natives against the exploitation of miners and unfair wages. His words are seen as a threat by the whites.

Stephen is most eager to find his son. With Msimangu's help, he follows the trail. Along the way, he learns that his son got a girl pregnant, was incarcerated in a rehabilitation program, and then disappeared again.

When a white man is murdered by a native, Stephen fears the worst. His son Absalom is the perpetrator. The murder forces both fathers to reflect on their lives. Stephen initially loses his faith but regains it through the kindness of others. James, despite losing his son to black crime, begins to study what his son wrote and sees things differently, even developing a relationship with his son's killer's father and his black neighbours.

"Sorrow is better than fear,"............ "Fear is a journey, a terrible journey, but sorrow is at least an arriving."

I am a big fan of history books, especially social history and post-colonialism. So, a book on South Africa and apartheid is of great interest to me. Although this book was written before the end of apartheid and is a bit dated, it is still an emotional read, offering a glimpse into a terrible injustice.

Alan Paton, a white South African, had his book banned in his home country for fearing it might challenge the status quo. The book is full of Christian themes like faith, forgiveness, and atonement. It also shows how western civilization's encroachment on the Zulu tribes has been harmful. With only 10% of the land for the native population, there is not enough to feed their families or rear their cattle. The young are forced to leave for the cities and mines, where they face temptation and are taken advantage of. The crime rate soars.

"I have one great fear in my heart, that one day when they have turned to loving, they will find that they are turned to hating."

This is a powerful and moving read, but there are some elements that made me uncomfortable. The natives are sometimes depicted as simple-minded "children" incompatible with western civilization. There is also a hint that God is white. These are minor issues, but in today's world, they prevent me from giving this otherwise gripping book top marks.

I was supposed to read Cry, the Beloved Country during my senior year of high school. But as you know, senior year can be a chaotic time.

Well, I wasn't like those who start slacking just because they have their college acceptance letters in hand. I promise. However, I did decide that I didn't really have a passion for English. Instead, I found my European History class much more fascinating. So, I spent all my study time poring over my history textbook rather than my English novels. Especially since the in-class discussions were detailed enough for me to ace the tests without much effort.

Looking back, I guess it was my loss because this book is truly excellent. It's not just a story about racial inequality, social problems, and injustice, which is what I remembered about the plot from high school. First and foremost, it's a story of forgiveness and hope.

There are many reasons for South Africa, the country commanded to "cry" in the title, to do just that. Poverty and famine drive many people to choose paths that are less than admirable, sometimes even immoral. And there are also many reasons for the main character, a humble priest from a rural Zulu tribe, to give up his faith in both God and humanity. Yet, throughout the story, there is a calm sense of hope for the future. Stephen Kumalo meets good men along his tragic journey who give hope to him and to the country as a whole: friends, family, and even one who should be his deepest enemy.

Kumalo himself is someone to be emulated. For his meekness and gratitude, for his acceptance of trials, for his charity, and even for his occasional human flaws but then his sincerely repentant nature. To enjoy a book, I have to have a main character that I can at least empathize with. Kumalo is one that I not only appreciate but also admire.

And the writing is downright lyrical in some places. It's easy to see why it's a modern classic.

Being awakened to the injustices of prejudice and poverty is important, but this book does more than that. It inspires hope in the midst of hard times. It's definitely a book to add to my long list of favorites. ;-)

#ReadAroundTheWorld. #South Africa

This story, penned by White South African author Alan Paton in 1946 and published in 1948 on the eve of the creation of Apartheid in South Africa, is a classic of protest literature. It delves deep into the evils of racism, exploitation, and colonialism. Paton, who later founded the Liberal Party in South Africa to oppose apartheid, had to first publish this book in the US as it was highly unlikely to see the light of day in South Africa at that time.

The narrative transports us to the village of Ndotsheni in Natal. Here, Stephen Kumalo, a Zulu minister, is summoned to Johannesburg to visit his ill sister. To his dismay, he discovers that she has become embroiled in the sordid trades of selling liquor and prostitution. His search then extends to finding his son Absalom, whom he ultimately locates in jail, having shot and killed a white man. Despite the overwhelming heartbreak, Kumalo must find the strength to carry on, fighting for the desperate plight of his people and his village.
The book alternates between the tender conversations of Kumalo and paragraphs that question the direction South Africa is taking and the tyranny of the oppression endured by black people in mines, villages, and the squatter camps of the metropolis. This is a truly moving story, masterfully written and deeply impacting. While the tone can be slightly patronizing at times, which is not unexpected considering it was written nearly eighty years ago, Paton plays the crucial role of an international whistleblower, exposing the harsh realities of what was happening in South Africa. One can sense his profound passion for the country and the intensity of his beliefs regarding the evils of racial segregation and exploitation. This is an essential work that strikes at the very heart of a great tragedy.

Just wow!

The prose, the characters, the themes, and the setting - all are shining with brilliance.

It vividly reminded me of The Chosen, with the fascinating contrast between two fathers and their sons, which is a favorite trope of mine. The writing style also bore a resemblance to Ursula K. Le Guin's. Moreover, in some aspects, it brought to mind Gilead as well.

What makes it especially meaningful is that I have been to South Africa, albeit for a very short time. Naturally, the themes are universal and deeply relevant to our race-torn society.

The way not everything works out, and the really hard and ugly things that occur, yet there is an abundance of grace, healing, and hope in a eucatastrophic (if that's a word) way. It's like no mercy - I expected there to be mercy, and there was, but not in the way I anticipated. I think a lesser author would have given Absalom mercy or left Kumalo to resign himself to the unfairness and despair at the end. However, Paton does neither.

“—It suited the white man to break the tribe, he continued gravely. But it has not suited him to build something in the place of what is broken.... They are not all so. There are some white men who give their lives to build up what is broken.

—But they are not enough, he said. They are afraid, that is truth. It is fear that rules this land.”

*

“—Brother, I am recovered.

Msimangu’s face lights up, but he talks humbly, there is no pride or false restraint.

—I have tried every way to touch you, he says, but I could not come near. So give thanks and be satisfied.”

I read this book during my high school years, and I was deeply enamored with it due to the captivating story it told. That was back in the 1960s, a time when apartheid was rampant and Mandela was unjustly imprisoned.

This time around, I still loved the story. Fortunately, some of the racial and political issues that once plagued the nation have been resolved. However, I was now also able to fully appreciate the beautiful, lyrical prose that the author had crafted.

I found myself shedding numerous tears while reading this book, especially in the last section. It was this part that brought a glimmer of hope to the situation in 1940s South Africa, a country that was pre-apartheid but where the majority of poor blacks lived under the oppressive rule of a few wealthy whites.

Despite the blatant inequities that are vividly portrayed throughout the book, it also embodies qualities such as courage, compassion, and Christian values. On a personal note, as I read this, I often thought about how apt the title was for the situation in my own country today.

Cry, The Beloved Country, for the state of race relations and political civility that seem to be tearing us apart during this presidential election season. It serves as a poignant reminder of the importance of unity, understanding, and the pursuit of justice.

After hearing of Bryson's call to South Africa, it made me remember this book I read years ago. It is truly a remarkable and captivating book that offers a profound insight into the cultural and political challenges prevalent in South Africa. Since I read it quite some time ago, the following is an "official" review:

"Cry, the Beloved Country is a monument to the future. One of South Africa's leading humanists, Alan Paton, vividly captured his eloquent faith in the essential goodness of people." — Nelson Mandela*

The book is Alan Paton's heartfelt ode to his complex homeland. It is a land that Westerners have come to understand, in part, due to the powerful and passionate work of Paton. Inspired in many ways by John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath, Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country infuses heart and humanity into the struggles of black South Africans. First published in America, it shone a new international spotlight on a South African conflict that had long been hidden in secrecy and shadow. From its initial publication, through its immediate worldwide success and recognition, and right up to this very day, Paton's novel has served as an anthem for racial tolerance and understanding.

The novel delves into several powerful themes, such as compassion, forgiveness, humility, and the harsh realities of racial injustice and prejudice. While the main storyline focuses on the tale of two families striving to overcome hardship, South Africa herself emerges as a central character. According to the author, the title was derived from three or four passages that mention his beloved country, including: "Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers…for fear will rob him of all if he gives too much." This is a novel that has the power to make you fall deeply in love with South Africa—with its rich and diverse land, its arduous struggles, its breathtaking beauty, its passionate spirit, and its remarkable people.

Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton is an incredibly deeply moving story.

It centers around the Zulu pastor Stephen Kumalo and his son, Absalom, and is set against the backdrop of a land and a people that are torn apart by racial injustice.

I had two main reasons for reading this book. Firstly, I am part of a group that aims to read at least one book from every country in the world. I had read this South Africa-set book in 1946 before and wanted to experience it again.

Secondly, I was born in 1948, which is when Apartheid began in South Africa.

Apartheid, an Afrikaans word meaning separateness, was a system where the Dutch whites of that era desired to remain separate from the blacks. But really, who was there first? If we look closely at that word again, it starts with "APART". Oh, it is truly upsetting.

There is so much more that I could share with you about the story of this book, but then it would be completely spoiled.

In this book, there is both injustice and yet forgiveness. It is a very powerful story that truly deserves 5 stars.

This book is truly one that will remain with me forever.

It defies simple descriptors. It is beautiful, yet spare; evocative, yet universal; finely wrought, yet poured out in one extended cry for justice.

Paton masterfully weaves together parallel lives, an odyssey or two (both physical and spiritual), lost sheep and prodigals. He teaches us about place, identity, and cultures in a way that haunts us, convicts us, and leads us to do more.

Paton explores a wide range of ideas including justice, politics, economics, religion, and culture. Sometimes, these seem like expositional asides such as mines and the stock market, but they always tie back into the story and the choices the characters make.

Paton's structure was executed perfectly. In Book I, we follow Kumalo, and in Book II, we follow Jarvis, each on their own paths to discover how best to serve their beloved South Africa and their people. In Book III, they are drawn together. When Kumalo's and Jarvis' paths cross in Johannesburg, yet not in their common home region, the reader feels the weight of the separation of communities. Separation and non-interaction is the problem, but the two strands are woven together.

It isn't a long book, and each chapter is easy to approach, but it is a deeply feeling book. I ended with 50 pages to go and tears streaming down my face. There are ends, but there is also hope. There is despair, but there is also a sun.

This is a book that leaves one aching for reconciliation and believing that it is possible. It truly deserves 5000 stars.