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

The backdrop and central concern of the novel, of course, is race relations in the “beloved country.” Having been granted independence from British rule in 1931, though still part of the Commonwealth and recognizing the king of England as its king, South Africa was (and still is) a nation with a population overwhelmingly black (about 80%), but a nation at that time dominated politically and economically by the descendants of British and Dutch (Afrikaners) colonial settlers. While the fully-developed legal system of racial segregation, or apartheid, would not be officially enacted in all of its particulars until 1948 (soon after this book was published), key components of it were already in place, and the rest of it already enforced by custom. With less than 20% of the population, whites claimed ownership of 90% of the land, owned all of the mines and industries, and completely controlled the government, since blacks were disenfranchised by law. While living standards and incomes for the white community were generally comparable to those of “developed” countries, the black community lived almost entirely in Third World poverty, and was systematically kept in that state to create a permanent pool of cheap labor for white employers. Education was segregated, and provided only inadequately for blacks. Whites and blacks virtually never interacted on any footing of equality, and virtually never had cross-racial or cross-cultural friendships. In that environment, few people of either race thought of the other as individual fellow humans; rather, they were just an undifferentiated mass of alien and possibly hostile Other. Blacks generally resented white exploitation (with good reason); whites generally feared blacks as a potential threat to their own lifestyles, and were tempted to subscribe to theories of black racial inferiority as justification for keeping them subservient.

Paton doesn't start his novel out with a description of this state of affairs (although, in his very short first chapter, he does set the stage by a physical description of his rural setting, with its terrain greatly damaged by human abuse of it, and not able to support its people), because it's something every South African reader would have been viscerally aware of to begin with. So, as his readers would, he just presupposes it, and goes from there. When our story really gets going, in chapter 2, we meet our protagonist, Rev. Stephen Kumalo. He's the priest of the small black Anglican church in the village of Ndotsheni, in Natal (which is, as I understand it from the geographical clues in the book –I don't know a lot about South Africa's internal geography-- in the southwestern, historically British-dominated, part of the country), a 60-year-old man living quietly with his wife on a scanty income. Like many of their fellow Zulus, Stephen's brother-in-law (husband of his sister Gertrude, 25 years younger than Stephen) has been gone a long time. He moved to the great city of Johannesburg (pop. ca. 700,000 at that time) looking for work in the mines, and hasn't been heard from for quite a while. Gertrude finally went to Johannesburg to look for him, and also went silent; Stephen's only child, a young man named Absalom, followed in his turn, looking for her, and he's no longer writing home either. But now, a letter written by a fellow black clergyman has arrived from Johannesburg, informing him that Gertrude is “very sick” and that he needs to come. That journey will be a fateful and pivotal one, marked by tragedy --but also by unexpected light that can shine in darkness. It will bring him together with both familiar faces –including his younger brother John, a fairly prosperous Johannesburg carpenter and influential orator in black political circles, long estranged from both Stephen and the church-- and with entirely new acquaintances, most surprisingly a Ndotsheni neighbor, well-to-do white farmer James Jarvis. These two would normally never have spoken to each other; but fate sometimes has strange twists....

This novel is a cri de coeur for fundamental justice and decency in relations between human beings, delivered with powerful force and clarity. But while I won't say it has no passages of straightforward exposition (well integrated into the text), it derives its force and clarity from the way its message is embedded in an actual involving and emotionally compelling story about characters who become as real as any you meet in your everyday life. And it's a message which recognizes that justice and decency have to flow from love, which means they'll never be achieved by hate and never fostered by fear. The author's vision for the country he loves isn't one that demonizes whites, but one that calls on British-descended whites like Paton himself, Afrikaners (and those two groups, though both white, didn't especially like or trust each other, either) and blacks of all tribes to come together in harmony to build a society that works for everybody. That particular 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) isn't coincidental to the story; it mirrors and expresses the author's own, and this is a profoundly Christian novel, not just from having some clerical characters, but from depicting lived Christianity in its warp and woof, and inculcating a Christian message as its central reason for being written.

Stylistically, the most notable characteristic here is that Paton doesn't use quotation marks. However, when a character's speech is reproduced, he clearly indicates that a character is speaking, and who it is; and in dialogue, speeches by different characters are on different lines, and set off by a dash. As a rule, I don't care for fictional prose that affects a departure from normal grammatical rules, and normally wouldn't read it. But here I was motivated enough to give the text a chance, and quickly discovered that, at least in this instance, the author didn't sacrifice clarity on the altar of quirkiness; I never had a problem 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 vivid life (okay, I don't have any first-hand knowledge myself; but I can recognize the ring of authenticity when I read it!), and had a good eye for his country's varied landscapes and cityscapes. Though himself white, he writes black characters very realistically, believably getting inside Stephen's head in particular (Stephen and Jarvis will be our two viewpoint character here, and we get much more of the former's viewpoint than the latter's). There's also a lot of serious social insight here 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 (which created an anomie and rootlessness in the black community), and of the role of farmland destruction, through overgrazing and practices that maximized soil erosion, in exacerbating rural poverty.

Alan Paton (1903-1988) is described by Wikipedia as 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 principal of a reformatory for youthful black offenders (and very successful in effecting rehabilitation of those in his care); and yes, that experience is relevant to this novel.

Despite the changes in South Africa since 1994, many of the problems and challenges depicted here still remain; and the author's call for racial harmony and cooperation remains as necessary –and too often as elusive-- as it was in 1946. And even though it's delivered in the context of a particular setting, his moral, spiritual and social messages are universal, relevant wherever injustice and fear of the Other is rife; which is to say, always and everywhere. There aren't very many novels that I would actually recommend to all readers. This is one of them.

Personally, I did not find this worked super well as an audio book, but I am not sure whether that stemmed from the book itself or the way I listen to audio books (3x).
Still, as you can tell from my rating, I enjoyed it! I really need to go back because I think in print it would garner 5 stars.
It was a very moving book. A little bit angsty, perhaps, but never to the point of distraction. The grief and family dynamics really shine through.
Been on my to-read list for a very long time and I am glad I finally got to it.

"Cry, the Beloved Country" is an important story set in 1940s South Africa with its tensions between the various ethnic and racial groups, and between urban and rural life. Reverend Kumalo leaves his rural village to bring back his sister and his son from Johannesburg. Both of them have been influenced by bad company and the corruption in the lawless city. His son has been involved in a terrible crime.

The story later tells of the kindness of a white plantation owner, inspired by his son's work for social justice, who helps Reverend Kumalo's Zulu village. Kumalo feels that a strong family life and a strong village community are very necessary, but the young people often move away for financial reasons. The author's love for beautiful South Africa, his deep compassion, and his dismay over racial injustice act as a backdrop for this moving story.

Alan Paton - image from The South African - photo by Terence Spencer

This is a classic, written by a white South African about a time before apartheid. Two fathers, one white, one black and their sons. It is stylistically unusual. Quotes are not used, for example. Conversation is indicated by leading dashes. Also the speech is quite formal most of the time, which conveys some of the culture of the place, I expect. Dark forces are abroad, but hope shows its face here as well, as there are leaders trying to prevent a descent into the madness to come. Zulu pastor Stephen Kumalo and his son Absolom are the focus. Absolom, as an adult, leaves to go to the big city, Jo’burg. He falls in with a bad crowd and is involved in a robbery. He unintentionally shoots a man who surprises them. The man, an idealistic white, is the son of Kumalo’s neighbor out in the country. Kumalo goes in search of his missing son, only to find him, and this horror, at the same time. Characters are portrayed sympathetically, white and black. There is much shared fatherly pain, much humanity here. It is indeed a classic.

South Africa will always own a part of my heart. Although this was first published in 1948 I have only now read it for the first time. Captures so perfectly the tragic beauty of this country (at least as I remember it from our time there in the late nineties). Quite possibly my favorite read of 2024.

This book is one of those classics that I'm glad I read, but will probably never read again. The themes are important (racial equality, morality, forgiveness) and the writing is lyrical, but it's still hard to read. Alan Paton doesn't use any quotation marks. He chooses, instead, to preface each line of dialogue with a dash. I could get used to this technique, if he were consistent with it, but he's not. Sometimes the dialogue is in the middle of a paragraph, with no indication it's spoken aloud. It drove me crazy, having to re-read everything to figure out if someone was talking, or just thinking, or if it was just the writer giving us information.

The story is set in South Africa, and it helped me understand why that country has been such a mess for so long. There are so many different races, languages, belief systems, and classes, it's a wonder anything gets done there at all. It's interesting to see the effects of apartheid, the growing pains of a country trying to find equality for all races. It was written in the 40s, so things have changed enormously since it was first published, but it still functions as a cautionary tale. It is infuriating, inspiring, slow-moving but worth the time.

This isn't an infinitely quotable book, but occasionally it produces a line that is devastatingly clear and true. Lines like, "It was not his habit to dwell on what could have been, but what could never be." and, “It is the duty of a judge to do justice, but it is only the people who can be just.” made me put the book down and stare dumbfounded at the wall. But mostly this isn't a highly quotable book; it's a beautifully written, riveting book where passages or entire halves of scenes are compelling streams of words, readily understandable for actions and conversations, and profound for their insights and suggestions into human life in adversity and prosperity.

If you're going to write a borderline hopeless story, do it like this. Paton's prose is mostly readable and occassionally beautiful, especially in his monologues, letters and prayers. For example: "The truth is that our Christian civilization is riddled through and through with dilemma. We believe in the brotherhood of man, but we do not want it in South Africa. We believe that God endows men with diverse gifts, and that human life depends for its fullness on their employment and enjoyment, but we are afraid to explore this belief too deeply. We believe in help for the underdog, but we want him to stay under. And we are therefore compelled, in order to preserve our belief that we are Christian, to ascribe to Almighty God, creator of Heaven and Earth, our own human intentions, and to say that because He created white and black, He gives the Divine Approval to any human action that is designed to keep black men from advancement." It goes on, but this should give you a sense of Paton's insight and rhetorical ability.

Paton touches on almost every level of trouble in post-colonial South Africa: racism, classism, elitism, residual imperical feelings, how wealth corrupts natives, arbitrary segregation, the loss of family values, the loss of social pride, the abandonment of positive religious teachings, the inability of government and the misunderstanding of the new laws. It doesn't blame white people or black people; it creates individuals who embody multiple faults, and when such people make up a new nation, it shows how such a system could collapse and increase human suffering. Paton does not rub this in your face; even his foreward explains that several of these people are real or are based on real people, and his praises those who are working towards a better world. This novel is every ounce about trying to do something. This isn't literary bleakness or contemptable anti-humanitarianism (a strange view for any author to have, given that all our authors are humans). There are good people stuck in all of this, and from the very first chapter you get a sense that this is, if not a good place, then a place that could be truly great. The difference between Alan Paton here and Edith Wharton or Nathanael West in much of their writing is that the disappointment does not permeate the tone and the myopic view does not bias the story. Paton is a far more sympathetic writer, able to capture the most dangerous elements of humanity in a way that is uniquely his own, though we'd be better off if it became more common.

We are moving to South Africa so I thought I had better read this bestseller from 1948. I listened to the audiobook performed by the actor, Michael York. His incredible voice changes helped me visualize the characters; however, I should have read the book as my weakest learning style is auditory and it took me awhile to get the African village names and characters sorted. The Reverend Stephen Kumalo, who lives in Ndotsheni, a village in eastern South Africa, receives a letter saying his sister, Gertrude, is ill and he should come to Johannesburg. Kumalo hopes to find his son, Absalom, who has also gone to Johannesburg and he has not heard from in a few years. In Johannesburg, Kumalo is assisted by Msimangu, the priest that sent him the letter, and the two set off to find Gertrude and Absalom. Along the way they see economic and social conditions that gave rise to apartheid. Alan Paton's writing is lyrical and full of emotion; a social protest novel that reveals the political and social issues of the time. I think it would be good paired with "Things Fall Apart," that shows the breakdown of the tribe from a black man's perspective; whereas, "Cry the Beloved Country," is from a white man's perspective that reveals postcolonial attitudes of liberalism and Christian paternalism.

Kumalo and Msimangu are good men that travel from place to place observing how the black man has lost "his tribe" and support system since white men has colonized Africa. Kumalo comes from the country and views the city as a corrupting influence on young people. Traditions with a chief as head of the tribe and support system of others members who teach moral behavior has been replaced by the white man's influence and this is represented in the lawless city of Johannesburg. The result is corruption as people live in fear.

Kumalo begins his journey rooted in the old ways and once he travels to Johannesburg he discovers that the world has changed and he must change with it. The erosion of African society is symbolized in representations of a barren land and the erosion of the red soil that bleeds into the rivers like an open wound. Stephen Kumalo's home is decaying with his sister turning to prostitution and his son committing murder. Kumalo clings to the old ways at first realizing that he must change by the end to adapt to a changing world, but he suffers terribly along the way and like Stephen, the first Christian martyr. Kumalo must lose his son, sister, and family before gaining a new one. He realizes that he must reach out to help those in need or suffering and give to them selflessly; hence, creating a new tribe.

Kumalo meets his brother, John, who has rejected the tribe but who has an incredible voice or speaking ability that others listen to, but he is corrupt and only thinks of himself. He is hollow and unreliable as a friend or relative. A foil to him is Dubula, a man that is the voice of the boycott. His motives are unselfish and Kumalo and Msimangu realize that he would make a great leader because power would not corrupt him. He's morally stable, unlike John Kumalo. Many times throughout the novel the power of corruption is brought up and it is the self-sacrificing men that are held up as examples to emulate.

The economic and deplorable social conditions are revealed throughout the journey, but it is mainly through James Jarvis that the white person is supposed to recognize actions he or she can take to help mend the gap with blacks. James Jarvis is a country man like Kumalo and when his son is murdered he reads his notes discovering his son thought deeply about the racial problems and was trying to change the world to be a better place. James is changed and decides to work for a solution toward helping the tribe. He introduces a man that shows the blacks agricultural methods that will help till the soil or heal a broken land by beginning something new for the blacks.

When I read, "Huckleberry Finn," as an adult I could see 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 to benefit them. Stephen calls James Jarvis an angel because he's showing the natives agricultural techniques and he's building a new church which allowed him to remain a pastor there. This is supposed to help them with the tribal displacement but it is always the whites in this story that have the knowledge and vision for the tribes. Paton wanted South African natives to embrace Christianity because this would lead to moral living and he suggests farming as a way to get back in touch with the land.

I've been reading Jared Diamond's book, "Collapse," about elements that lead to a society's demise. Poverty, over farming, deforestation, climate, and environmental issues are usually significant factors along with different catalysts that cause the collapse. Paton focuses mostly on moral decay and the break down of the tribe. While Paton's attempt to change racial injustices is noble, his story shows at the same time the attitudes of the day full of colonial views of an enlightened Western civilization replacing a barbarian one. Many find his book outdated because of his portrayal of blacks. For further reading on this topic, I put the article at the bottom of the page. This is a story that will lead to plenty of 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

I love this book. It is one of my all-time favorites. The author had the beautiful ability to write about the tragedies in South Africa and at the same time interweave a deeply moving story of two fathers having the worst experience of their lives. The gripping sadness of the experience is overshadowed by the love and faith of a father who is just trying to do the right thing. Alan Paton's prose and insight make for an awesome reading experience. I highly recommend this book not only for reading pleasure but also for a look into human nature and life in South Africa - "a black man's country under white man's law. . ."

سیل که تهدید می کند آدم در نگرانی برای خانه اش بسر می برد اما خانه که خراب شد کاری باید کرد ، در برابر سیل کاری از او ساخته نیست اما خانه ویران را می توان از نو ساخت .

بنال وطن نوشته آلن پیتون نویسنده و فعال و مخالف تبعیض نژادی اهل آفریقا جنوبی داستانی ایست درباره تبعیض نژادی یا آپارتاید در آفریقا و افرادی که درشرایط جهنمی آن زندگی می کنند . نویسنده دورانی را روایت کرده که مردمان چه سیاه و چه سفید در حال آگاه شدن نسبت به آپارتاید و اثرات آن در محیط زندگی خود بوده و شروع به مبارزه در برابر وضع موجود می کنند .
وطن از نگاه نویسنده گویی ویران شده ویا در آستانه ویرانی ایست . وطن او را چاره ای جز زار زدن نیست . پس بنال ای وطن ، برای قبیله در هم شکسته ، برای سنت و قانون پایمال شده ، برای مردی که مرده است بلند گریه کن ، بنال برای زن و فرزندان بی سرپرستش . بنال وطن وقتی درد و رنج تو را پایانی نیست بنال .
قهرمان داستان او کشیش فقیری یا به گویش محلی اومفندیس است که در پی جستجوی خواهر و پسر خود از روستا فقیر خود ایندو تشنی به ژوهانسبورگ می رود . آن چه در ادامه داستان به سر او و خانواده متلاشی شده اش می آید را می توان به عنوان نمونه ای از زندگی فجیع سیاهان در آفریقا جنوبی دانست ، کشیش پیر دیگر دعا نمی خواند ، از درون لال شده و کلمه ها از او گریخته اند . اومفندیس هم اشک می ریزد ، برای خشکسالی ، برای آذوقه ته کشیده و برای باران .
آن چه او را نگاه می دارد دعا و نیایش و یا امید به زندگی بدون رنج نیست . کشیش درک کرده که یک مسیحی یا انسان فارغ از هر دینی نمی تواند از رنج هستی آزاد باشد ، زیرا رنج کشیدن برای نجات از رنج نیست ولی شاید برای تحمل آن باشد .
اومفندیس در بازگشت به روستا خود می گرید و اشک می ریزد . این بار او و وطن گویی با هم می نالند ، پس بنال ای سرزمین محبوب ، برای کودکی که هنوز به دنیا نیامده ، برای ترس ، برای آینده بنال ، برای کودک در حال مرگ بنال .
اومفندیس گویا از آینده و آن چه بر سر مردمان خواهد آمد آگاه است ، او مردمان را به عشق ورزیدن و نفرت نداشتن از هم فرا می خواند ، از نگاه کشیش قدرت و آرزوی قدرت بر دیگران در سر پروراندن است که نفرت می سازد و این گونه شده که در سرزمین آنان نفرت به قدر کافی وجود دارد . ( گویا پیتون ویژگی های رهبر آینده را بیان کرده ، عشق به آدمی و نداشتن نفرت است که ملت را متحد ویک پارچه می سازد و این گونه نلسون ماندلا از میان جماعتی که توصیه به عشق ورزیدن به انسان می کند رهبر مبارزه با تبعیض نژادی می شود )
پایان کتاب وپیش گویی نویسنده حیرت انگیز است ، پیتون در حالی که تاریکی و ظلمات همه جا را فرا گرفته خبر از سحر ، نور و روشنایی داده. در حالی که ایندوتشنی و ژوهانسبورگ و آفریقا جنوبی در تاریکی هستند اما امواج کم نور خورشید آمدن سحر و روشنی را نوید می دهد ، سحر به ایندوتشنی ، به ژوهانسبورگ و کل آفریقا خواهد رسید . نویسنده از رسیدن سحر ایمان دارد اما زمان آنرا نمی داند .
بنال وطن در سال 1948 وهنگام شروع جنبش های ضد آپارتاید نوشته شده ، تقریبا 50 سال طول کشید تا آنچه که پیتون در بنال وطن با مهارت پیش بینی کرده ، یعنی نابودی آپارتاید و تبعیض نژادی محقق شود . شخصیتی که نویسنده در کتاب آفریده یعنی اومفندیس یا کشیش پیر را می توان الگوی افرادی مانند نلسون ماندلا و دزموند توتو دانست . افرادی که با نفی خشونت ، درخواست آشتی ملی ، پرهیز از کینه توزی و نفرت و انتقام رویای پیتون را به سرانجام رساندند .

This was a deeply moving book that will stay with me for a long time. It falls into the elite category on my bookshelf of "I will read this again and again". I loved Paton's writing style...short, concise sentences and the dialogue written without quotation marks (as well as the social themes in the book) made this very reminiscent of another of my all-time favorites, The Grapes of Wrath. The book looks at themes of equality and social justice in pre-apartheid South Africa from both sides of the race equation...and I found myself understanding and empathizing with characters on both ends of the spectrum. The Zulu pastor, Stephen Kumalo, is a heartbreaking character, and his relationship with Jarvis, the father of the man his son killed, was one of the most touching aspects of the novel. I highly recommend this book for any readers interested in literary fiction. My only regret is that I waited so long to read it.

Cry, the Beloved Country, written in 1948 is a must read even today.