by Maya on May 15th, 2012
This weekend in Franschhoek I had the privilege of being a panelist alongside Yewande Omotoso, subsequently shortlisted for the Sunday Times prize for her novel Bom Boy, and Tracey Farren, author of Whiplash and Snake. (The latter was on the Sunday Times longlist.) We spoke mostly about setting and spaces, since the discussion was entitled “Cape Voices”. Yewande explained that she had chosen to place a lot of the action in Cape Town’s Salt River, Woodstock and Observatory, because her character Leke is a young man living at the fringe of society, a person with a brittle identity. She felt that the part of the city she chose is a place where one can easily hide.
I talked about setting The Elephant in the Room in Kalk Bay, because it’s a magical seaside space with plenty of history, mystery and texture, with a shift to the very suburban Plumstead, Cape Town. I did this to enhance the sense of loss my character Lily felt at being displaced. At this point I had to alert the audience to the fact that there’s nothing wrong with Plumstead! I myself have lived there, and Gus Ferguson, one of our leading poets, lives there to this day.
Stella, the charming young protagonist in Tracey’s Snake, was placed her in a rural setting, which gave her plenty of opportunity to hide in the outdoors. Tracey wanted to provide her – a young girl who has to deal with massive trauma – with a measure of safety. And orchards, hedges, grassy hillocks: these are places of healing, for Stella, and for Tracey.
by Maya on May 6th, 2012
Itch.co.za recently asked me to review Richard de Nooy’s novel The Big Stick and the new issue went live today with plenty of reviews, short stories and poetry. To read more, and to see why I view this wonderful book as a Bildungsroman in more ways than one, click through to Itch here.
by Maya on May 4th, 2012
The Afrikaans present tense has an immediacy that is lost in the English past tense, says Michiel Heyns in an article in Beeld.
Heyns is a writer and celebrated translator of Marlene van Niekerk’s Agaat, Etienne van Heerden’s 30 Nights in Amsterdam and, recently, John Kannemeyer’s biography of JM Coetzee. (“Die teenwoordige tyd van die Afrikaans het ‘n onmiddellikheid wat verlore gaan in die verlede tyd van die Engels.” http://www.beeld.com/Boeke/OnlangsVerskyn/Behoue-in-vertaling-20120429 Here he’s referring to his work on the biography, but I’d like to hear people’s thoughts on the use of tense in translating fiction.
In Afrikaans, one writes in the present tense. Simple. It’s immediate, and you don’t have to have your hero tripping over “het ge– … het ge– … het ge– …”. Instead, you want things to go like this: “Hy storm by die deur in, skiet sy vennoot morsdood en jaag weg.” If the events occurred in the past, the reader infers that.
Recently I’ve been investigating crime novels in translation. I’m not in the fortunate position of being able to understand Stieg Larsson in the original, but I’ve been comparing English translations to Afrikaans originals. In English we certainly use the past tense more freely. It seems the most “story-like” approach, and quite possibly, the easiest to read. However, when one turns from the Afrikaans (present tense, fast pace, immediate) text to the English translation you can find yourself a little deflated, even in the face of a very good translation (and there have been many). I find this particularly true in the crime genre, where immediacy is exactly what you want. Yet I looked at local writers working in English: Mike Nicol, Margie Orford, to name just two, and found past tense and it absolutely works. That’s the most natural way to write, in English.
These things considered, might it be useful to argue for greater use of present tense in Afrikaans-to-English fiction translation? Past tense seems to be the default, but perhaps that cages us in.
I’d love to hear your opinions!
by Maya on Mar 27th, 2012
Die somer lê agter ons: amptelik. Die lig begin ons in te perk, besef ek vandag toe ek gaan draf en die skemer my vang. Die dae kwyn. Maar die vreugde daarvan is dat ons weet dis ’n siklus: oor drie maande draai dinge, begin ons van voor af. Die wingerde sal weer bot. Die son sal weer kom. Die blomme sal groei.
Maar vandag dink ek aan dié vir wie die blomme nié weer sal groei nie, omdat die lig té erg vir hulle gekwyn het; hulle hulle níe ’n volgende lente kon indink nie. Mense soos die talentvolle jong akteur Andrew Thompson, wat so vasgevang raak in hul eie winternag dat hulle hulsélf die laaste lig ontneem. My hart gaan uit vir hulle, en vir die mense wat agterbly.
En hier is die ding wat my dié week opgeval het. ’n Ding wat my báie weke vorentoe nog gaan krap. Hoe min medelye sommiges het. Hoe hulle mense soos Andrew slegsê op internetkletswerwe; kwetswoorde soos “selfsugtig” en “maklike uitweg”. Een vrou het laat weet dat “enigiemand wat selfmoord pleeg ’n pateet is” en dat sy “geen simpatie” het nie. Sy het het dit in hoofletters geskryf; haar woorde met drie uitroeptekens beklemtoon. Vir hulle wil ek sê: Medelye is een van die vernaamste geestelike vrugte wat ’n mens kan kweek, en hoe vroeër mens begin, hoe beter. Om ’n geliefde te verloor, ongeag die omstandighede, maak séér. Voor ons oordeel vel, moet ons dink of dit die moeite werd is om dié wat agtergelaat is gal in die wonde te smeer. Vir diegene wat nié kan identifiseer met so ’n immeroorweldigende sielsdonkerte nie: Wees dankbaar. Dit is wel waar dat dit moeilik is om begrip vir ’n ander te hê tensy jy jou ’n tydjie lank is sy skoene bevind het.
As jy jouself dus nie in iemand anders se skoene kan plaas nie, sit jouself dan ten minste in sy ma s’n.
by Maya on Mar 21st, 2012
My inbox, yesterday: a mailer from a well-known local shoe retailer, declaring (on the eve of Human Rights Day, of course) that it is my human right to own fabulous shoes. I nearly destroyed a perfectly beautiful iMac by hurling my coffee cup at the screen. Good grief. I’m a fan of said retailer (well, I used to be, until they Marie-Antoinetted themselves out of my address book) and of shoes, certainly, it cannot be denied. But a human right? I don’t know that I’ve felt that offended all year. I really don’t think I have to put too fine a point on this. Except possibly to remind anybody who needs reminding that the reason we celebrate Human Rights Day on 21 March in this country, is that on this day in 1960, 69 people died at the hands of the then South African Police Force in Sharpeville, Transvaal (now Gauteng). Shoes had sweet blow-all to do with it then, and they have sweet blow-all to do with it now. Although I do wonder whether Julius Malema might not agree with the shoe peddlers who shall remain nameless. Because I did notice him sporting a lovely pair of Louis Vuitton loafers on his Carte Blanche interview of the other day. Let them eat cake.
by Maya on Mar 14th, 2012
A body remembered, a body remembers, but also, a body withheld: These are the interpretations that dwell in the title ‘n Lyf Onthou, a brand-new work of erotic fiction in Afrikaans.
Deernis – dít is die snaar wat Riette Rust in haar kortverhaalbundel ’n Lyf onthou (uitgegee deur Protea) by my roer. Ja, sy roer wel ander snare ook: Dis nie verniet dat Kerneels Breytenbach in ’n onlangse onderhoud met Louise Viljoen gesê het Riette ken van seks skryf nie. Met die erotiek as kunsvorm is sy bedrewe, en dit is nie iets wat van alle skrywers gesê kan word nie. Veral nie, durf mens dit sê, iets wat van alle Afrikaanse skrywers gesê kan word nie. Die meeste van ons (guilty as charged!) is mos maar konserwatief grootgemaak. Het so by die dertien jaar rond ’n voosgeleesde eksemplaar van Lady Chatterley’s Lover in die hande gekry en suutjies langs die swembadfilter gaan lees, of dalk ’n bietjie Brink tydens daai lang ure waar die grootmense hul oë rol en sê “Dié kind is darem baaaie lief vir bad, hoor …” Maar die feit bly staan, ons kom uit ’n konserwatiewe tradisie, en ons mark is eweneens dikwels konserwatief. Om ’n boek erotiese skryfkuns saam te stel, is ’n dapper stap, en om dit kunstig en met goeie smaak, soos Rust, te doen, ’n prestasie.
Erotiek, ja, maar diegene wat verwag dat mense mekaar op elke bladsy gaan bevlieg, bespring of bebek, gaan (afhangende van hul vertrekpunt!) óf verras óf teleurgesteld wees. Hierdie bundel is keurig geskryf en met groot sorg saamgestel, en nie elke verhaal wentel om seks nie. En ook nie elke verhaal wat verwys na seksualiteit, lei na fisiese kontak nie. Die keur verhale is holisties, en daarmee bedoel ek dat daar iets is wat elke aspek van die lewe – veral vrouens se lewens – weerspieël. Ons het te doen met verlange, hartseer en blydskap (omdat ons emosionele wesens is) verrassings, herinneringe, verviestheid (omdat ons denkende wesens is) en ja, begeerte en die volbringing daarvan al dan nie (omdat ons seksuele wesens is). Dis hier dat die titel juis só slim is, omdat dit gaan oor al hierdie embodiments van menswees: ’n Lyf onthou, m.a.w. die lyf vergeet nie; hier het ons ’n spesifieke lyf wat iemand onthou, maar, net so belangrik, hier het ons ’n lyf wat juis nié oorgegee word nie. A body remembers, a body remembered, en a body withheld, dus.
Rust se karakters is kompleks; sy wys jou waar hulle vandaan kom. Van Carien, wat wulpse goed aanvang in “Vanielje”, leer mens meer in “Eer jou vader”. Die Mia van “Yesterday, today and tomorrow” neem ’n ander tomorrow aan in “Queen of the rose garden”. Maar vir my bly “God se wil” (met karakters wat nie elders in die bundel verskyn nie) een van die sterkste verhale: ’n bittersoet storie waarin ’n dominee en sy vrou ná vele pogings ’n verstandelik gestremde kind in die wêreld bring. (En vir die wat gereed is om te skrik: erotise gebeurtenisse is nié in hierdie verhaal ter sprake nie.) In verhale soos “Alles vir ’n storie”, “As good as it’s going to get” en “Spoor” weer, is daar vir my iets van Fay Weldon, maar met minder woede en meer deernis, meer gelatenheid, attitude, chutzpah.
Hierdie is ’n boek vir mense wat in denke geprikkel wil word; ’n boek vir dié wat hulle wil inleef in ander se smagtinge, hul hartseer, hul hoop en hul drome. Diegene wat op soek is na cheap thrills moet maar eerder op die boonste tydskrifrak by die Seven Eleven gaan kyk, want hier gaan meer as jou kliere oefening kry.
by Maya on Jan 20th, 2012
Once again, I’m a finalist in the Sanlam awards for youth literature, under the auspices of Tafelberg Publishers. Last time, my manuscript Detour made it to the top 5. It was subsequently published as As Jy ‘n Ster Sien Verskiet, after Michelle Cooper of Tafelberg asked me translate it into Afrikaans, which I did myself. This time the manuscript in question is My Life As a Moth. And the competition is looking great, with names such as Jayne Bauling and Jenny Robson – both prize-winners – in the mix. Winners to be announced in October.
by Maya on Jan 6th, 2012
Last year, on the sly, I won third place in Woman & Home’s short story competition with Venus in the Bedroom. And now it’s out there for all to see, in a volume of short stories available with the latest issue of W&H. (The white booklet.) And I’m in good company! Other writers in the collection include Deon Meyer, Margie Orford, Penny Vincenzi and Fiona Snyckers. You’ll see some of the magazines have been bagged with the white booklet, and others with a yellow one. The latter contains stories by writers such as Joanne Harris, but also some top local names. Go take a look, before this month’s issue sells out.
by Maya on Nov 2nd, 2011
As you know from Mandy’s report, plenty of tricks and treats were to be had at the Book Lounge last Wednesday, and Hy Sê Sy Sê (hy-se-sy-se.com) asked me to write something about the evening. Here’s the link: http://www.hy-se-sy-se.com/horrorfest-resensie-bloody-parchment#more-5368. One thing I forgot to mention, was that I won the prize for best-dressed author on the night! I’m including a pic for those who weren’t there, and the rest who didn’t realise it was me hiding underneath that pink hair.
The robber bride
by Maya on Oct 3rd, 2011
Young princesses and those bored by the recent stream of vampires, wizards and steam punk might be interested to hear about the new offering from supermodel turned talk-show host turned talent scout extraordinaire Tyra Banks. Interested, but not necessarily impressed, as Jessica Werb of straight.com reports. Take a look http://www.straight.com/blogra/books and judge for yourself!
