Some novels we remember fondly. Sometimes when we return to them they don't seem as grand as our previous experiences with them. This is my reaction to The Persistence of Memory. Though I found what I was looking for, a portrait of the new South Africa, the novel also seemed more war story and bildungsroman than I'd remembered and so interested me less. The protagonist Paul Sweetbread certainly exists in the new South Africa, every surface of which Eprile seems to touch: the new multiethnicity, the rising crime rate, the Afrikaans past, the Afrikaner present, townships, the white enclaves, the bullying white attitudes, poverty, AIDS, and more. The novel concerns itself with South African society from the viewpoint of Sweetbread's growing up white and Jewish in the years spanning the transition from apartheid to the time of Mandela and the Truth and Reconciliation Commissions trying to examine the past and find forgiveness where needed. Eprile emphasizes the novel as war story in an Afterword which tries to make sense of the long war in Angola and Namibia, but the hinge the novel swings on, an investigation of crimes committed there by Sweetbread's commanding officer, is never resolved. The reader is left with the bildungsroman and Eprile trying to complete it with a ritual involving an ancient African woman/divine who Sweetbread enlists to exorcize the past in a ceremony involving chickens and blood. By all this I thought he was attempting to show acceptance of the country's African past as well as symbolically joining all elements of a varied society. I'm afraid it's all a little tenuous and unsatisfactory. It's an ambitious novel but not quite muscular enough to bring together all the ideas inherent in South African history and societies as they've tumbled together here at the beginning of a new century. As the name suggests, Paul Sweetbread is a gentle and kind man, and he's trying to embrace the positive and the diverse he sees in the new South Africa to offset the horrors he saw in the northern deserts. But I'm afraid because we're never shown the resolution of the crimes of Sweetbread's superior, the past continues to hang in the air of the novel like noxious fumes. Because the past won't go away, memory in its persistence becomes just as noxious.