Alan Paton's 1948 novel, Cry the Beloved Country, is a tale that embraces so very many things well beyond the period of Apartheid in South Africa; among them are the power of faith, the resolute strength of family bonds, the capacity for resilience, urban vs. rural environments, the concept of forgiveness & even beyond that, of reconciliation, all of these portrayed within an abiding biblical context.



Amazingly, the novel was written by someone whose life was spent as a teacher, including for 14 years at a progressive reform school for native (African) offenders, with no initial consideration of becoming a novelist. The gestation process for Alan Paton's manuscript constitutes a story in itself.

The reader is met with a portrait of the abiding prejudice & inequality within South Africa's Dutch-descended Afrikaners' strictly-enforced & particularly rigid response to racial segregation, separating its citizens into either Blank/White or Nie-Blank/Non-White but with 2 additional sub-classes, Asian & Colored, or mixed-race. However, the novel was actually published a few months prior to the installation of Apartheid by the National Party government in 1948.



Much of the story is set in the small town of Ndotsheni, Natal Province of South Africa where the main character, Stephen Kumalo & his family live in a consistent state of borderline poverty, until their life is upended both by a drought and Stephen's son Absalom's fall from grace within the shanty-town slums of Johannesburg where he has gone in search of his older sister.

Stephen Kumalo is always referred to as Umfúndisi (a Zulu word that is pronounced: "oom-foon-dees"), a term of respect meaning "parson". In fact, he is an Anglican priest presiding over his small church & a school, both in decline. His clothes are in tatters & his clerical collar stained brown but his sense of hope & his faith in God are never anything but robust.

Who indeed knows the secret of the earthly pilgrimage? Who indeed knows why there can be comfort in a world of desolation? God be thanked that there is a beloved one who can lift up the heart in suffering, that one can play with a child in the face of such misery.

Now God be thanked that the name of a hill is such music, that the name of a river can heal, even the name of a river that runs no more. Wise men write many books in words too hard to understand. But this, the purpose of our lives, the end of all of our struggle is beyond all human wisdom. Oh God, my God, do not forsake me.

Without, intending to give away the specifics of plot or the conclusion of this tale, it involves two families, one white (that of Mr. Jarvis) & the other much less so. They are ultimately brought together in a way that is transformational for both in this novel, which occurs in the midst of the scourge of Apartheid (in place from 1948 to 1984), a time when the book must have been seen as a beacon of hope to those who longed for its demise. Because of the author's strong feelings in favor of racial equality & his membership in the Liberal Party Alan Paton's passport was seized, preventing him from travel outside his homeland for a decade.

In the novel, the passages detailing the pain that the well-off white character of Mr. Jarvis is confronted with in having to endure the aftermath of his late son's death are most uplifting, at least for me. Belatedly, Mr. Jarvis comes to know his son's passion for life and for the cause of black South Africans in a manner that would have been impossible had he lived to continue the struggle, having embraced the message of Christ and that of Abraham Lincoln, both of whose images adorn the son's former office. And in that moment of recognition, his life and other lives are transformed.



Arthur, the son of James Jarvis, has come to the conclusion that "our natives today produce criminals & prostitutes & drunkards, not because it is their nature to do so but because their tribal system of order & tradition & convention has been destroyed." It is felt that African tribal culture, in spite of its faults, did constitute a moral system. Left in his unpublished manuscript is the thought that those in power in S. Africa had an "inescapable duty to set up another system" & to end the segregation of the races. Instead of a son following the pattern outlined in daily living by his father' life, it becomes the reverse in Payton's novel.

For here is the novel's uplifting message:

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, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of the land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

In not wishing to reveal some aspects of the novel, I inevitably shortchange it. However, it speaks deeply to the forces of kinship & hope that can guide one through a seemingly faith-shattering, almost impossible personal hardship. And beyond that, Alan Paton's Cry the Beloved Country seems to me a timeless tale that offers a message about the potential for forgiveness and well beyond that, for a reconciliation with one's fate in life. Rarely, I suspect are 2 lives so entwined as that of Mr. Jarvis & Mr. Kumalo, resulting as it did via an act of violence.



Through the characters in Cry the Beloved Country & particularly that of Stephen Kumalo, I felt that I could sense the hardscrabble landscape of Ndotsheni & somehow comprehend the complexity of the lives of those who call it home. For that reason & simply because in rereading the novel, I have experienced a renewal of hope for a long-troubled part of the world & mankind in general, I have upgraded by rating to a full 5*s.

I highly recommend Alan Paton's novel, which in Lost in the Stars was translated into an operatic setting by Kurt Weill. There have also been two film versions, one in 1951 & more recently in 1995, the latter starring James Earl Jones & Richard Harris, made shortly after the fall of Apartheid & the election of Nelson Mandela.

*Within my review are photo images of: the author, Alan Paton; a sign delineating an Apartheid-restricted space in S. Africa; a landscape in rural Ndotsheni, Natal, S.A.; Richard Harris & James Early Jones in a scene from the film version of the novel. **My Scribner Library version of the book is a 1959 edition paperback for $1.45, actually bound in signature (with pages stitched together with thread), rather rare for a paperback book.

ادبیات ترجمه کتاب دقیقا فرزند زمان خودش است و روح اواخر دهه 40 و اوایل دهه 50 در متن کتاب موج می زند. شور زندگی، عدالت خواهی و عشق به سرزمینی تنها و نیازمند کمک، و حتی سیمینی که جلالش را در میانه ی ترجمه ی این کتاب از دست داده ا��ت و رنج کشیده است و باز به آن پرداخته است، اینها چیزهایی است که تا هفته ها پس از خواندن کتاب رهایم نمی کند

Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton is the deeply moving story of the Zulu pastor Stephen Kumalo and his son, Absalom, set against the background of a land and a people riven by racial injustice.

I read this book for two reasons:
1) I am participating in a group that plans to read at least one book from every country in the world. I had read this book set in South Africa in 1946 once before and wanted to read it again.
2) I was born in 1948 and that is when Apartheid started in South Africa.

Apartheid is an Afrikaans word meaning separateness. The Dutch whites of the era wanted to keep separate from the blacks. Excuse me, who was there first? Look at that word again. It starts with APART. Oh, how upsetting.

There is so much I could tell you about the story of this book, but then it would be spoiled.

In this book there is injustice yet forgiveness. Very powerful story.

5 stars

There are so many layers of meaning in this book. You can't just close it after the last page and say, "Yep, I read it. Here's what it's about..." The story is fairly simply told, almost understated, but you can feel the author's love for his country and its people, warts and all. There's so much to explore here about hope, despair, love, exploitation, forgiveness, and perseverance. My greatest admiration goes to the Jarvis character for the way he deals with his grief and shows his forgiveness through acts of quiet generosity.

The book was written sixty years ago, but the issues and concerns are just as relevant today as they were then---not just for South Africa, but worldwide.

Thanks, Elisabeth! I've bypassed this book countless times over the years and would not have read it without your recommendation. :)

The opening lines of Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country exemplify the beauty and sheer lyricism of his diction:

There is a lovely road that runs from Ixopo into the hills. These hills are grass-covered and rolling, and they are lovely beyond the singing of it. The road climbs seven miles into them, to Carisbrooke; and from there, if there is no mist, you look down on one of the fairest valleys of Africa. About you there is grass and bracken and you may hear the forlorn crying of the titihoya, one of the birds of the veld.

Paton sustains this level of lyricism for the rest of the novel. His language sings, rolls, and skips along the tongue, much like the poetry of Dylan Thomas. The beautiful language accentuates the poignancy and heartbreak of the narrative as the story unfolds.

Set against the background of a South Africa fraught with racial tensions and the injustice of apartheid, an elderly Zulu pastor, Stephen Kumalo, sets off for Johannesburg in search of his sister, Gertrude, and his son, Absalom. Unfamiliar with large cities, Kumalo is bewildered by its size and activity. Fortunately, several people generously give of their time to assist him in his search. He retrieves Gertrude from a life of prostitution. He eventually locates Absalom, finding him in a jail cell awaiting trial for murdering a white man.

Threaded throughout this tragic story are insights on the impact of imperialism: the exploitation of the indigenous population, the struggles they face, the desperation and poverty, the breakdown of the family unit, the loss of a cohesive belief system, and the corruption and betrayal of those in relative positions of power. Paton takes an even-handed approach to the challenges. While castigating a system built on segregation and economic exploitation, he scrupulously avoids portraying the struggle as black against white. The corrupt and the advocates for equality and racial justice can be found on both sides of the racial divide, as are their acts of forgiveness, kindness, compassion, and generosity.

The characters are authentically rendered in a series of heart-wrenching scenes. Kumalo’s encounter with Absalom as he grapples to understand why and how his son could have killed a man is deeply moving. His son’s confused and halting replies reflect his fear and inability to fully grasp what has happened. A distraught James Jarvis, the victim’s father, as he reads the final words of his son, is heart-wrenching. Ironically, his son was composing an eloquent statement advocating for racial justice before he was so tragically interrupted. But perhaps the most poignant scenes are those between James Jarvis, the father of the man who was killed, with Stephen Kumalo, the father of the man who killed him. Overcome with emotion, Kumalo struggles to find the right words to apologize for his son’s senseless act. The shared pain of the two fathers is rendered with compassion and delicacy.

This is a beautiful story, beautifully rendered with compassion and understanding.

Highly recommended.

My book reviews are also available at www.tamaraaghajaffar.com

What an extraordinary book. South Africa first came to my attention in the early 80s, when as a young teen my social consciousness was awakened by the MTV generation shouting "I won't play Sun City". Taking into account all that has occurred from since Paton's gentle prose was penned in the mid 1940s to the glittering showboat of the 1980's rock star protests to today's post-apartheid reality of continued violence and oppression in South Africa, reading this novel was so moving and chilling. How little and how much has changed.

THis is a beautifully written story that reveals the multiple faces of life in South Africa, that shows the conflict without imposing judgment, morality or condescension. It demonstrates the author's deep love for his country, his sorrow as a witness to its destruction and not a little hope for its future.

My only regret is that it took me so long to discover this book, but perhaps I wasn't ready to appreciate it before now. I'm just grateful that it is now a permanent addition to our library!

If I could give this 6 stars I would... a magnificent, moving story with extraordinary depth and wisdom.

Beautiful. Heartbreaking. Really glad Well Read Mom chose this one.

I found Cry, the Beloved Country to be a heart-breaking yet absolutely beautiful book. It was movingly told. I am rereading parts of it and will not soon forget it. It has inspired me to learn more about the history of South Africa as well as the current situation in SA which seems problematic, though I have only had time to read a smattering of articles on current topics.

Cry, the Beloved Country is set in the mid 1940's in the early stages of apartheid. This story in this book underscores the complex conditions of life in South Africa and between the races in SA at that time. The story ends with a hope that I think failed to fully develop. Though we know historically apartheid was outlawed (after the setting of this book), I think the hope for sympathy between the races has failed to materialize and that SA continues to be a land with racial hatred between peoples.

It you like to learn about other countries and historical settings, if you like books about decent people who put principles above personal interest, it you like a book with finely drawn characters, or if you like a book that makes you feel hope for humanity, read Cry, the Beloved Country. It is all of that and more.

The blurb on the back of my copy of Cry, the Beloved Country calls it “the most famous and important novel in South Africa’s history.” That’s probably true, and makes reviewing it seem a bit absurd. Paton doesn’t need my approval, but he gets it all the same.

I first read this book at school (I think most South African kids do) and I loved it then, and I was apprehensive it wouldn’t hold up so well now, but there’s even more to appreciate now that I’m more critical. I remember the language being unusual and formal and thinking that this was because it was written in 1946, but actually the language is heavily influenced by Zulu, as if the dialogue has been directly translated. I also loved the agility with which Paton shifts narrative voice and the way he keeps the interiority of the characters limited so we really feel what they are going through even if they won't discuss it .

Cry, the Beloved Country is a heartbreaking story. A rural pastor leaves Ixopo to search for his missing sister and son in Johannesburg, and finds them unraveling in the tragedy of 20th Century South African poverty, racism and crime. It’s depressing how much of this book is still relevant today but it’s also a beautiful story with love and forgiveness and hope in it. Very glad I came back to it.

this is a shit book

This book is one that will stay with me.

It defies the descriptors - beautiful, yes, but spare; evocative, yes, but universal; finely wrought, yes, but poured out in one extended cry for justice.

Paton weaves together parallel lives; an odyssey or two (physical and spiritual); lost sheep and prodigals to teach us of place and identity and cultures in a way that haunts and convicts and leads us to do more.

Paton explores ideas of justice, politics, economics, religion, and culture. Sometimes, they seem like expositional asides - mines, stock market, etc -, but always they tie back into the story and the choices the characters make.

Paton's structure was perfectly executed. From following Kumalo in Book I and Jarvis in Book II; their own paths to discovery how best to serve their beloved South Africa and their people. Book III the drawing them together. Yes. 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. The two strands are woven.

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

This is a book that leaves one aching for reconciliation and believing that it is possible.

5000 stars.