Cry, the Beloved Country is a truly significant story that is set in 1940s South Africa.

During this time, there were intense tensions between the diverse ethnic and racial groups, as well as between urban and rural life.

Reverend Kumalo, a central character, departs from his rural village with the intention of bringing back his sister and son from Johannesburg.

Both of them have unfortunately been influenced by bad company and the corruption that prevails in the lawless city.

Tragically, his son has become involved in a heinous crime.

The story then unfolds to reveal the kindness of a white plantation owner.

Inspired by his son's work for social justice, he offers assistance to Reverend Kumalo's Zulu village.

Kumalo firmly believes that a strong family life and a vibrant village community are of utmost importance.

However, he laments the fact that young people often leave for financial reasons.

The author's profound love for beautiful South Africa, his deep compassion, and his dismay over racial injustice serve as a powerful backdrop for this deeply moving story.

It is a tale that explores the complex social and human issues of a divided nation, leaving a lasting impact on the readers.

Paton's novel unfolds the captivating story of Steven Kumalo.

Steven is an impoverished priest who embarks on a desperate search for his wayward son. His son left their humble homestead, lured by the allure of Johannesburg's bright lights, only to become深陷 in a life of crime.

In fact, the first half of the book reads remarkably like a detective story. Steven searches tirelessly but fruitlessly for his son. As he delves deeper and deeper into the seedy world of petty crime that his son has become a part of, his sense of weariness and ennui steadily increases.

Steven's sense of discombobulation reaches a peak when he receives the shattering news that his son is in jail for the murder of a white engineer. This engineer was a vocal advocate for native rights in South Africa. The remainder of the novel intricately deals with the far-reaching fallout of this crime. It includes his son's execution and the unexpected drawing together of Steven and Jarvis, the father of the murdered man.

If all of the above might seem rather straightforward at first glance, that is because the novel's themes delve much deeper than its surface plot. Interwoven with its incisive exploration of the institutionalized racism that pervaded South African society are profound themes of faith, forgiveness, and family. It also explores the enduring power of love in the face of ignominious hatred and the indomitable and irrepressible beauty of South Africa. This beauty often jolts both the characters and the readers, awakening them to the true essence of life.

Moreover, the novel delves into the continuity of life despite the tragedies that we are compelled to endure. Jarvis undergoes a profound transformation as a person after reading his son's humanistic teachings. The lightness that resided within his son has been passed on to his grandson, who serves as a guiding beacon against the darkness that threatened to consume Steven's soul following his son's incarceration and execution. 'Cry the Beloved Country' is a powerful and poignant exploration of life in a highly racialized South Africa, just as apartheid is on the verge of forever driving a deep and insurmountable wedge between its black and white residents.

The flood that threatens a person causes worry for his home, but for the damaged home, something must be done. Against the flood, nothing has been made for it, but the ruined home can be rebuilt.

"Banal of the Homeland" is written by Alan Paton, a writer, activist, and opponent of apartheid in South Africa. It is a story about apartheid or racial segregation in Africa and the people who live in its hellish conditions. The writer has described a period when both black and white people became aware of apartheid and its effects on their living environment and started to fight against the existing situation.

The homeland, in the writer's view, is either ruined or on the verge of ruin. His homeland has left him with no choice but to mourn. So, banal of the homeland, for the fragmented tribe, for the fallen custom and law, for the dead man, cry loudly. Banal for the woman and her helpless children. Banal of the homeland when pain and suffering have no end for you, banal.
The hero of his story is a poor priest or, in the local dialect, umfundisi, who, in search of his sister and son, travels from his poor village to Johannesburg. What happens to him and his family in the continuation of the story can be considered as an example of the tragic life of blacks in South Africa. The old priest no longer prays; he is broken inside and the words have wept from him. Umfundisi also weeps, for drought, for the deep wound, and for the rain.
What he looks at is not a prayer, a wish, or a hope for a life without suffering. The priest has understood that a Christian or a person without any religion cannot be free from the suffering of this world, because suffering is not for salvation from suffering but perhaps for enduring it.
Umfundisi cries when he returns to his village. This time, he and the homeland are banal together. So, banal of the beloved land, for the child who has not yet been born into the world, for fear, for the future, banal, for the dying child, banal.
Umfundisi seems to be aware of the future and what will happen to the people. He preaches to the people to love and not to hate each other. In the priest's view, power and the desire for power over others that breeds hatred is what has happened in their land, and there is enough hatred among them. (It seems that Paton has described the characteristics of a future leader. Love for a person and not having hatred makes the nation united as one piece, and thus Nelson Mandela, from among a group that preaches love for humanity, becomes the leader of the fight against apartheid.)
The end of the book and the writer's prediction are amazing. While darkness and shadows have spread everywhere, Paton has given the news of dawn, light, and brightness. While Indotshini, Johannesburg, and South Africa are in darkness, the waves of the weak light of the rising sun announce the dawn and brightness. The dawn will reach Indotshini, Johannesburg, and all of Africa. The writer believes in the arrival of dawn but does not know when it will come.
"Banal of the Homeland" was written in 1948, at the beginning of the anti-apartheid movements. It took about 50 years for what Paton had predicted in "Banal of the Homeland" to come true, that is, the disappearance of apartheid and racial segregation. The character that the writer has created in the book, namely umfundisi or the old priest, can be considered as a model of people like Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu. People who, by rejecting violence, demanding national reconciliation, avoiding incitement and hatred, and revenge, brought Paton's dream to fruition.

Cry, The Beloved Country, Alan Paton

Cry, the Beloved Country is a remarkable novel penned by Alan Paton and published in 1948.

In the secluded village of Ndotsheni, located in the Natal province of eastern South Africa, the Reverend Stephen Kumalo receives a letter from a fellow minister. The letter summons him to Johannesburg, stating that he is needed there to assist his sister, Gertrude, who has fallen ill. Kumalo embarks on the arduous and costly journey to the city, hoping not only to aid Gertrude but also to find his son, Absalom, who had traveled to Johannesburg from Ndotsheni and never returned.

Upon arriving in Johannesburg, Kumalo is warmly greeted by Msimangu, the priest who sent him the letter, and is provided with comfortable lodging by Mrs. Lithebe, a devout Christian woman who believes that helping others is her duty.

The story delves into the complex issue of racial discrimination in South Africa. It follows the life of the poor and elderly priest, Stephen Kumalo, from the impoverished and small village of Ndotsheni as he travels to Johannesburg in search of his son, Absalom Kumalo. Kumalo discovers that his son has fathered a young girl and has spent some time in prison. Shortly after, his son is arrested for the murder of a white man and...

The novel has been translated into Persian several times with different titles such as "Banal oton" (Cry, the Beloved Country), "Grihe kon sarzamin-e mohbub" (Weep, the Beloved Country), and "Muye kon, sarzamin-e majbube" (Moan, the Beloved Country). Some of the notable translations include those by Faridun Salek and Nader Ebrahim in 1969, Simin Daneshvar in 1972, and Hoshang Hafizi Pour in 1983. Each translation has contributed to making the story more accessible to Persian readers and has furthered the understanding of the themes and issues explored in the novel.

Overall, Cry, the Beloved Country is a powerful and moving story that offers a profound insight into the social and racial inequalities of South Africa during the apartheid era. It is a must-read for anyone interested in understanding the history and culture of this region.

A novel that we read in junior high, specifically in grade nine English, was Alan Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country. It was likely the first school-assigned literary classic that I wholeheartedly and unreservedly loved reading.

Although Cry, the Beloved Country wasn't an easy read, it was extremely satisfying, intense, emotionally captivating, and deeply personal to me. My parents were horrified that our English teacher would have us read a novel they considered politically problematic. They were perhaps afraid that I might turn into a raging Socialist or Communist, as I had a strong sense of justice. After reading Cry, the Beloved Country, I would often loudly proclaim that Apartheid was one of the most unjust and evil political and economic systems and needed to be changed immediately.

I highly recommend Cry, the Beloved Country. It is suitable for teenagers, but the issues it presents should be discussed and debated. We often focus only on the contents and themes of novels,忽略了 or at least skim over questions of stylistics, parallelisms, irony, and other aspects of the structure through which the contents and themes are presented. Alan Paton's writing style is exquisite and should not be overlooked.

What the..?!?!

Why on earth is this rating so incredibly high? It's truly baffling.

This book was an absolute torture to read. Every single page, despite the fancy wordings, was worse than having my eyelashes brutally pulled one by one. It was a truly excruciating experience.

Oprah? Seriously? Seriously Oprah? How could she have recommended this?

Here's a more detailed summary of it:

A man sets out on a journey to find his son who unfortunately died because he killed some guy. After a long and arduous search, the man finally gives up and goes back home.

The end. That's basically it. There was nothing more to it. It was such a disappointment.

Just when I thought I had a handle on this book, it got really complicated.

After getting over the shock of how much South African history and turmoil were skimmed over or ignored completely in my history classes, I initially believed that this story presented a straightforward good guy vs bad guy scenario. I thought the natives were a contented group until the Europeans disrupted their culture. Johannesburg seemed to represent the whites with its crime, immoral behavior, fast-paced city life, and insatiable greed for gold and development. Meanwhile, Kumalo's village symbolized the native life with its few possessions, strong family and community ties, and prominent church.

However, I soon realized that real life is not so neatly packaged. This situation was far more complex than I had initially thought. At any rate, this story has taught me a great deal about South Africa and the so-called "help" that white people are eager to offer. The loose ends have left me hungry for more South African literature, eager to explore and understand this fascinating country and its history even further.

I look forward to delving deeper into the works of South African authors and uncovering the hidden truths and stories that lie within their pages.

It's truly challenging to pen down an accurate description of this remarkable book.

Certainly, it does possess a plot, structure, and a story, yet that's not the essence of it. This book delves deep into the realms of love, grief, hope, and despair.

It explores a father's unwavering love for his children, regardless of their choices. It also examines the love for one's country and homeland, even when its framework may not be perfect or just.

It shows how both right and wrong decisions have far-reaching consequences, affecting not only ourselves but also those in our vicinity.

It discovers poetry and beauty even within the ugliest of ashes. It speaks of change and those with the courage to strive for it, as well as of tradition and those who hold onto the good things that should endure.

Paton's writing style is a unique blend of back and forth prose and poetry. The transition between the two is so seamless that while one notices it, they form a cohesive whole that feels entirely natural.

It juxtaposes the harshness of the desolate land and the ugliness of people's interactions with the beauty of a restored land and the soulful beauty that emerges when people choose to reach out.

Although set in South Africa, the themes of inequality, the differences and similarities between people of different cultures, urban versus rural, and the clash of the old and the young are timeless.

This book is truly a gem and well worth the read. 4.5/5

Though not published until early in 1948, and with the events leading to its submission for publication being rather unusual as described by the author in the Author's Note at the beginning, Cry the Beloved Country was written in late 1946 and is set in the author's present. It is widely regarded as one of the greatest masterpieces of world literature in the 20th century, or indeed any century, and is hands down the greatest novel written (to date) by a South African writer. Ironically, it was first published in the U.S. and likely wouldn't have found a publisher in South Africa at that time. I have considered it a must-read for decades. Now that I've finally read it, I deeply regret (as I often do with too many books) that I didn't do so much sooner.

The backdrop and central concern of the novel is race relations in the “beloved country.” South Africa, having gained independence from British rule in 1931 while still being part of the Commonwealth and recognizing the king of England as its king, was (and still is) a nation with an overwhelmingly black population (about 80%) but was then dominated politically and economically by the descendants of British and Dutch (Afrikaners) colonial settlers. Although the fully-developed legal system of racial segregation, or apartheid, wasn't officially enacted in all its particulars until 1948 (soon after this book was published), key components were already in place and the rest was enforced by custom. With less than 20% of the population, whites claimed 90% of the land, owned all the mines and industries, and completely controlled the government as blacks were disenfranchised by law. The white community had living standards and incomes comparable to those of “developed” countries, while the black community lived in Third World poverty and was systematically kept there to provide a permanent pool of cheap labor for white employers. Education was segregated and inadequate for blacks. Whites and blacks rarely interacted on an equal footing and almost never had cross-racial or cross-cultural friendships. In this environment, few people of either race saw the other as individual fellow humans; rather, they were just an undifferentiated mass of alien and potentially hostile Others. Blacks resented white exploitation, and whites feared blacks as a threat to their lifestyles and were tempted to believe in theories of black racial inferiority to justify keeping them subservient.

Paton doesn't start the novel with a description of this state of affairs as every South African reader would have been viscerally aware of it. So, he presupposes it and begins the story. In chapter 2, we meet the protagonist, Rev. Stephen Kumalo, the priest of the small black Anglican church in the village of Ndotsheni, Natal. A 60-year-old man living quietly with his wife on a meager income, his brother-in-law, husband of his sister Gertrude, has been gone for a long time. He moved to Johannesburg in search of work in the mines and hasn't been heard from. Gertrude then went to Johannesburg to find him and also went silent. Stephen's only child, Absalom, followed to look for her and has also stopped writing home. Now, a letter from a fellow black clergyman in Johannesburg informs Stephen that Gertrude is “very sick” and he needs to come. This journey will be fateful and pivotal, marked by tragedy but also by unexpected light in the darkness. It will bring him together with familiar faces like his younger brother John, a prosperous Johannesburg carpenter and influential orator in black political circles, long estranged from Stephen and the church, and with new acquaintances like Ndotsheni neighbor, well-to-do white farmer James Jarvis. These two would normally never have spoken to each other, but fate has strange twists.

This novel is a powerful cri de coeur for fundamental justice and decency in human relations. While it has some passages of straightforward exposition well integrated into the text, its force and clarity come from how its message is embedded in an engaging and emotionally compelling story about characters who become as real as those in our everyday lives. The message recognizes that justice and decency must flow from love and will never be achieved by hate or fostered by fear. The author's vision for the country he loves doesn't demonize whites but calls on British-descended whites like himself, Afrikaners, and blacks of all tribes to come together in harmony to build a society that works for everyone. This note of inclusion and reconciliation comes from the grounding of this vision in Christian belief. Stephen's faith (and that of other characters of both races) is not coincidental to the story; it reflects and expresses the author's own, and this is a profoundly Christian novel, not just because of the clerical characters but because it depicts lived Christianity and inculcates a Christian message as its central purpose.

Stylistically, the most notable feature is that Paton doesn't use quotation marks. However, when reproducing a character's speech, he clearly indicates who is speaking, and in dialogue, different characters' speeches are on different lines and set off by a dash. I usually don't like fictional prose that departs from normal grammatical rules and wouldn't read it. But here, I was motivated to give the text a chance and quickly found that, at least in this case, the author didn't sacrifice clarity for quirkiness; I never had trouble identifying who was speaking. His diction is highly readable, often beautiful and lyrical. He knew black culture, both urban and tribal, and black speech patterns well enough to bring them to life vividly. He also had a good eye for his country's diverse landscapes and cityscapes. Although white himself, he writes black characters very realistically, believably getting inside Stephen's head in particular. There is also a lot of serious social insight that goes beyond the obvious, such as the recognition of the problematic effects of the destruction of traditional tribal community by the white government and white-run economy, and the role of farmland destruction in exacerbating rural poverty.

Alan Paton (1903-1988) was a “strong Christian” whose faith was one of the reasons he was so strongly opposed to apartheid. At the time he wrote this book, he was the principal of a reformatory for youthful black offenders and was very successful in rehabilitating those in his care, and this experience is relevant to the novel.

Despite the changes in South Africa since 1994, many of the problems and challenges depicted in the novel still remain, and the author's call for racial harmony and cooperation is as necessary and often as elusive as it was in 1946. And even though it is set in a particular context, his moral, spiritual, and social messages are universal, relevant wherever injustice and fear of the Other are widespread, which is to say always and everywhere. There are very few novels that I would recommend to all readers, but this is one of them.

I’ve never been to South Africa, the setting of this novel. But having spent a number of years in West Africa, I’ve observed firsthand the intricate dynamics that unfold when foreign elements are introduced to ancient societies.

Economic development has had a dual impact on Africa. On one hand, apartheid was a tragic consequence, along with low-paid and dangerous mining jobs. On the other hand, the construction of roads, trains, hospitals, and schools brought certain benefits, assuming a better quality of life was the goal. It was the corporations that were largely responsible for the transportation systems, as they needed to move goods and services efficiently to make a profit. It was the missionaries who initially introduced education and healthcare, with the aim of proclaiming the Gospel in both word and deed.

Ironically, I read this book not because of its African theme (though I did appreciate that aspect too), but because it was recommended as an insightful look into how suffering and ministry are intertwined. The main character, Kumalo, is an aging native pastor. The first time he ever leaves his village for Johannesburg is to find a wayward son and a younger sister who has turned to prostitution.

The backdrop is post-WWII South Africa, where race relations are severely strained as the indigenous population begins to resist the injustice of an exploitative system. Cities suffer from overpopulation, and farmlands are in a state of decline due to poor agricultural practices. Kumalo is a well-respected and godly man, but the tragedy he faces threatens to break him.

It is here that Jarvis is introduced. As a white farmer and landowner, Jarvis represents the opposite of Kumalo. However, it is their shared suffering that brings them together when, by all appearances, it should have kept them apart forever.

The author does not try to condemn the fact that Kumalo has embraced Christianity. There is no hidden agenda bemoaning the introduction of Christianity to pagan tribes. Instead, it is clear that Kumalo is a flawed but sincere believer who turns to the Lord in his time of need. He lives, as we all do, in a world corrupted by sin and feels the pain and suffering that sin causes in the lives of those he loves.

Neither black nor white, native nor Afrikaner is glorified. There are those who fight for justice and pursue peace on both sides. It is a political novel, even an economic one. But mainly, it is a story of redemption, like all the best stories. Out of the ashes of brokenness, in the most unexpected ways, answers to prayer emerge.

“Why was it given to one man to have his pain transmuted into gladness? Why was it given to one man to have such an awareness of God?”

A few years ago, after two decades out of high school, I deliberately decided to start rereading all the classics assigned to me during my school days. It has been an extremely challenging yet highly inspiring task as I have once again experienced these classic books with an adult perspective. In this third year of my participation in classics bingo, I seized the opportunity to revisit another high school book for the classic of the 20th century square. Alan Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country, seventy years later, is still regarded as the greatest South African novel ever written.

It exposes readers worldwide to the complex race relations that the country has endured during the modern era and the lingering gap that persists even today. The profound message that Paton conveys can offer valuable insights into the issues that modern nations still face to this day.

Stephen Kumalo, a simple parson residing in the village of Ndotsheni, and his wife have always been content with their life. However, his siblings John and Gertrude, as well as his son Absalom, were lured by the allure of Johannesburg. Paton描绘Ndotsheni with breathtaking prose, and the people of the region cultivate the land, hoping to make the best of their situation. Yet, the land is dry, and as readers later discover, the church is also in a state of disrepair, as this is what the white man has allocated to the native Zulu and Sesuto people. Thus, Johannesburg becomes an irresistible temptation.

However, as Paton so beautifully writes, bigger is not always better. Native Africans face numerous problems, from curfews and bus boycotts to low wages in the diamond and gold mines and the unfortunate reality of being black in a country dominated by whites. Kumalo's daughter and son have fallen on hard times, and it is up to the parson to utilize his influence within the church network to bring them to safety.

Paton, through his portrayal of Absalom Kumalo and Arthur Jarvis, the man he is accused of murdering, reveals the vast disparity between generations in South Africa. The younger generation is striving for change in racial relations, envisioning a future where whites and blacks live side by side in peace and prosperity, and Nkosi Sikelele Afrika becomes a reality. The older, more established generation may respect these viewpoints, but for the most part, they are not yet ready for such changes. Arthur Jarvis' father, James, admits that his martyred son had a brilliant mind, but he is not yet prepared for a unified South Africa where blacks and whites live together with respect. The fact that Paton wrote this novel in the years following World War II and the defeat of fascism highlights how slow the rest of the world was to embrace change.

I was deeply impressed by how the older generation, as represented by the characters of Msimangu, Stephen Kumalo, and James Jarvis, displayed great magnanimity towards the end of the novel. Despite the heinous crime that had been committed, the fathers refused to let the actions of their sons define them and were even willing to accept that a change was即将到来for a new South Africa. In this era where race relations unfortunately remain a relevant issue, perhaps Cry, the Beloved Country would be an excellent novel to discuss in high school English classes. However, with its exquisite prose and mature themes, I gained much more from this book through my adult eyes than I ever did during my high school years. Classics bingo has provided me with the opportunity to revisit these wonderful novels, and I am truly grateful for this chance.

5 full stars

We are relocating to South Africa, so I deemed it essential to peruse this bestseller from 1948. I opted to listen to the audiobook, which was masterfully performed by the actor Michael York. His remarkable voice modulations enabled me to vividly envision the characters. However, given that my weakest learning style is auditory, it took me some time to sort out the African village names and characters.

The Reverend Stephen Kumalo, residing in Ndotsheni, a village in eastern South Africa, receives a letter informing him that his sister, Gertrude, is ill and he should journey to Johannesburg. Kumalo also hopes to locate his son, Absalom, who has likewise gone to Johannesburg and with whom he has had no communication for several years. In Johannesburg, Kumalo is aided by Msimangu, the priest who sent him the letter, and the two embark on a quest to find Gertrude and Absalom. Along the way, they bear witness to the economic and social conditions that gave birth to apartheid.

Alan Paton's writing is both lyrical and emotionally charged; it is a social protest novel that lays bare the political and social issues of the era. I believe it would pair well with "Things Fall Apart," which presents the breakdown of the tribe from a black man's perspective, whereas "Cry the Beloved Country" is from a white man's vantage point, revealing postcolonial attitudes of liberalism and Christian paternalism.

Kumalo and Msimangu are upright men who traverse from place to place, observing how the black man has forfeited "his tribe" and support system since the white men colonized Africa. Kumalo hails from the countryside and perceives the city as a corrupting influence on the youth. The traditions with a chief as the head of the tribe and a support system of other members who impart moral behavior have been supplanted by the white man's influence, as exemplified in the lawless city of Johannesburg. The consequence is corruption, with people living in fear.

Kumalo commences his journey firmly rooted in the old ways, but once he arrives in Johannesburg, he discovers that the world has transformed, and he must adapt. The erosion of African society is symbolized by the representation of a barren land and the erosion of the red soil that seeps into the rivers like an open wound. Stephen Kumalo's home is crumbling, with his sister turning to prostitution and his son committing murder. Kumalo initially clings to the old ways but realizes by the end that he must change to adapt to the changing world, yet he endures great suffering along the way, much like Stephen, the first Christian martyr. Kumalo must lose his son, sister, and family before forging a new one. He comes to understand that he must reach out to assist those in need or suffering and give to them selflessly, thereby creating a new tribe.

Kumalo encounters his brother, John, who has spurned the tribe but possesses an extraordinary voice or speaking ability that others heed. However, he is corrupt and only thinks of himself. He is hollow and unreliable as a friend or relative. In contrast, Dubula, a man who is the voice of the boycott, has unselfish motives. Kumalo and Msimangu recognize that he would make an outstanding leader as power would not corrupt him. He is morally stable, unlike John Kumalo. Throughout the novel, the power of corruption is frequently raised, and it is the self-sacrificing men who are held up as examples to imitate.

The economic and deplorable social conditions are unveiled throughout the journey, but it is primarily through James Jarvis that the white person is expected to recognize the actions he or she can take to help bridge the gap with the blacks. James Jarvis is a countryman like Kumalo, and when his son is murdered, he reads his notes and discovers that his son had deeply contemplated the racial problems and was striving to make the world a better place. James is transformed and resolves to work towards a solution to assist the tribe. He introduces a man who shows the blacks agricultural methods that will help till the soil or heal the broken land by initiating something new for the blacks.

When I read "Huckleberry Finn" as an adult, I could fathom why others took offense at the stereotypical portrayal of blacks. In Paton's novel, the whites are superior, and the blacks are left with the whites making morally correct decisions for their benefit. Stephen refers to James Jarvis as an angel because he is teaching the natives agricultural techniques and building a new church, which allows him to remain a pastor there. This is ostensibly meant to assist them with the tribal displacement, but it is always the whites in this story who possess the knowledge and vision for the tribes. Paton desired that South African natives embrace Christianity as it would lead to moral living, and he proposed farming as a means to reconnect with the land.

I have been reading Jared Diamond's book, "Collapse," which explores the elements that contribute to a society's downfall. Poverty, overfarming, deforestation, climate, and environmental issues are typically significant factors, along with various catalysts that cause the collapse. Paton focuses mainly on moral decay and the breakdown of the tribe. While Paton's attempt to address racial injustices is noble, his story simultaneously showcases the attitudes of the day, replete with colonial views of an enlightened Western civilization supplanting a barbarian one. Many consider his book outdated due to his portrayal of blacks. For further reading on this topic, I have included the article at the bottom of the page. This is a story that is bound to spark numerous discussions.

Source: Paternalism, Ideology, and Ideological Critique: Teaching "Cry, the Beloved Country" Author(s): Patrick Colm Hogan
Source: College Literature, Vol. 19/20, No. 3/1, Teaching Postcolonial and Commonwealth Literatures (Oct., 1992 - Feb., 1993), pp. 206-210
Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/25112003 Accessed: 08-06-2016 15:44 UTC