Horrelpoot is die verhaal van ’n lewensveranderende reis. Op 'n reënnag in Australië bel Marlouw se suster met die versoek dat hy haar seun 'uit daardie donnerse land' moet gaan haal. En Marlouw, met sy mank voet en verstokte gees, glo dis sy lot om dié opdrag uit te voer. Op die spoor van die hoofkarakter, Marlow, in Joseph Conrad se Heart of Darkness, vertrek hy na Afrika – meer spesifiek Suid-Afrika – wat in puin lê ná 'n ontploffing en onder die geweld van strydende faksies ineenstort. Natgesweet ná 'n onheilspellende vlug voer sy uittog hom dieper die onbekende in – verby die lydende massa langs die pad tot in die buitenste duisternis van die platteland. Daar is gerugte dat Koert hom op die ou familieplaas bevind, nou in besit van hul voormalige werkers. Dat hy daar, bewaak en afgesonder, vir hom 'n magtige ryk opgebou het as die Koning van Vleis. Hier, op Ouplaas, aan die einde van Marlouw se verskriklike reis, word die hart van vrees oopgekloof . . .
(Review originally published at Nudge, now NB magazine, April 2016; removed from their site when they switched domains)
First published in Afrikaans in 2006, Trencherman blends a retelling of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness with a dystopian vision of near-future South Africa.
Our protagonist, Martin Louw, is nicknamed Marlouw - a nod to the narrator of Conrad's novel. He and his sister Heleen now live comfortable lives as expats in Australia, a way of life that's upended when Heleen insists Marlouw return to the family's South African farm, Ouplaas, to find and bring home her son Koert. It is a mission he immediately sees as inevitable, despite his reluctance to return to his ancestral country. The story that follows is both an apocalyptic fever dream and a psychological journey.
Marlouw's trip 'home' leads him to discover a broken and ravaged country in which poverty is endemic, every commodity is scarce, and AIDS is rife - he is told at one point that four out of every five people are infected. Ouplaas now nominally belongs to the black families who once provided its staff, but is effectively 'ruled' by the ominous, unseen Koert, who, it becomes clear, is the 'trencherman' of the title. (The term refers to someone with a large appetite, but also to a parasitic creature.) Marlouw has a club foot, a disability of which he is always painfully aware; perhaps because he also feels displaced, he strives to do the right thing, but frequently betrays his own prejudices. During the course of the story he descends deep into his own psyche, even seeing an apparition of his late father on the veld. Marlouw must confront the gulf between his own memories and what is now his reality. Ultimately, his greatest challenge is to let go of Ouplaas and what remains of his family's legacy, embodied in the horrifying figure of Koert.
Trencherman is the second Eben Venter novel to be published by Scribe in an English translation, following Wolf, Wolf in 2015. The two books explore a number of the same themes, including the state of modern masculinity, white South African identity, and racism both overt and insidious; they also share a similar voice, making Venter's style distinctive despite a change in translator. This is a story in which language is always significant, denoting both secret codes and lack of understanding between different groups: copious use of Afrikaans and isiXhosa means the glossary at the back of the book gets a good workout, though this is by no means a bad thing - Koert's dialogue, delivered in his own unique combination of languages and slang, is a particular stroke of genius.
Trencherman is a tough, challenging read. It is dark and strange and grotesque, and that grotesqueness often has a scatological edge - I was sometimes shocked by the blunt word choices. Like Heart of Darkness, it makes the reader wait and wait before they are confronted with the figure at the heart of the story, and since this book is not novella-length, the delay is even more agonising, creating a near-unbearable tension. But it is fascinating and captivating too. This is a deeply unsettling and thought-provoking portrayal of an imagined future; it uses its references to Heart of Darkness to great effect, and is a worthy modern successor to Conrad's novel.
--- Additional notes: - The novel's title in Afrikaans is Horrelpoot. According to Google Translate, that translates directly as trencherman, which is apparently an English word, though not one I have ever heard before (upon hearing about this book I assumed it was itself an Afrikaans term). But 'club foot' in Afrikaans is 'horrelvoet', so there's a bit of wordplay/a double meaning that's lost in the English title. - The above also provides another bit of emphasis on Marlouw's foot being a key element of the story, something that's underlined by the sheer amount of times it's mentioned. (And the fact that Koert suffers a similar affliction: his foot and leg have been eaten away by gangrene.) Marlouw's foot is a symbol of what he perceives as his own weakness, imperfection and incompetence, to which - until Koert actually appears - he imagines Koert as an opposite, a sort of corrective: young, strong and powerful. The foot is a painful, constant reminder of Marlouw's inability to fit in anywhere - Australia, South Africa, Koert's empire, the former servants' quarters. There is a scene in which Marlouw has his foot massaged by a prostitute; nothing sexual happens, but the scene nevertheless has a kind of nebulous eroticism to it. 'She rubs it and it becomes deliciously painful... It was a dream, I thought afterwards. I'd never felt like that about my foot before.' - I was fascinated by the parallels between Trencherman and Wolf, Wolf and they made me keen to read more Venter. In Wolf, Wolf, Mattheüs and his father repeatedly clash, with part of their conflict stemming from the fact that Mattheüs is gay and will never be able to carry on the family line; Mattheüs dreams of inheriting his father's money and home, but feels unable even to assume responsibility for his father's car dealership, instead choosing to honour the family name by calling his fast food business 'Duiker's'. In Trencherman, Marlouw cannot accept that Koert is the culmination of his once-great family's legacy. 'The knowledge that he, his kind, were the last of our descendants who remained there - that was the reality I couldn't come to terms with.' When Marlouw has a vision of his father's worst nightmare, it is that Afrikaners, represented by the Louws, will eventually be wiped out, erased from history. The symbolic climax comes not with the last scene on Ouplaas, but with Marlouw's participation in the desecration of the graveyard. Whether he's doing it at the ghostly request of his father or because he has finally become one and the same as those who remained on the farm, he's participating in active rejection and destruction of the Louw name and its legacy. Koert's bastardised speech, his mutilated Afrikaans, is also a symbol of this ('I have devoured you and your language'). 'The horror' in Venter's novel is, explicitly, Koert, and by extension Marlouw... As with Wolf, Wolf, there is simply so much in this book - it's so rich and deep. - What the reader comes to realise, along with Marlouw, is that there is not necessarily conflict between the historic authority of the Louws - the memory Marlouw exalts - and Koert's abuse of power. Both were founded on exploitation, and indeed, Koert's unabashed gluttony is arguably the more honest continuation of that legacy, while Marlouw represents a sort of cringing, apologetic shame which exists alongside an inability to let go of his 'birthright'. Throughout the book there is an uncomfortable duality between Marlouw's inherent belief in his own superiority and the deference he tries to show to the former farm workers of Ouplaas, now its nominal owners. - I loved the surreal veld sequence in which Marlouw encounters two figures: the ghost of his father and an Afrikaner woman on horseback. The latter, in particular, seems to encapsulate the Louws' decline within the space of just one scene: she appears as a beautiful vision ('She sits proudly on the dappled horse... With her bright red riding coat and the pitch-black velvet cap she evokes an era of whisky on the rocks, springbok hides on polished stoeps') and becomes gradually shabbier the more Marlouw looks at her ('The tips of the gloves are threadbare and the shoulders of the riding coat perished... Her back is bent... Her horse stumbling along'). The impression given is one of disintegration happening right before one's eyes. - I need to watch Apocalypse Now - from what I can gather, Trencherman references the film just as much as the original novel.
I received an advance review copy of Trencherman from Nudge. I wasn't paid for this review and I was under no obligation to be anything other than honest about what I thought of the book.
Hierdie Afrikaanse riller bring the onseker nagmerries van 'n Post-Apartheid Suid-Afrika na die leser se verbeelding. Eben Venter vertel van 'n avontuur in 'n kon-gewees-het Afrika. Pragtig en treffend.
It's a powerful book, a dystopic vision of the future of South Africa. J.M. Coetzee
This post-apocalyptic successor to Heart of Darkness excavates the traumas of a nation … Trencherman can be read as one of the foundational texts of post-1994 South African speculative fiction. Patrick Flanery, The Guardian
The South Africa [in Trencherman] is a dystopia to rival JM Coetzee’s vision of the country in Disgrace… Eben Venter is a consummate stylist who skillfully conjures a gathering sense of menace. Gillian Slovo, FT
Eben Venter is one of the notable voices in white South African writing post-Apartheid. Aidan Hartley, Spectator
Fascinating and captivating … This is a deeply unsettling and thought-provoking portrayal of an imagined future and a worthy modern successor to Conrad’s novel. Nudge Books
Macabrely effective … Trencherman sets out to warn us about the putative failure of democracy in South Africa, but ends up as a gorgeously bleak memorial to the Afrikaner’s pessimism and bewildered sense of loss. Elizabeth Lowry, TLS
A masterful book, lovingly translated. Weekend Australian
Just could not get into it. It paints a picture of no hope for South Africa. I saw another review comparing it to a modern version of Conrad's Heart of Darkness. I tend to agree with the description but find it very unfair given the complexities of post-94 South Africa. Just like Conrad's "the horror, the horror" made little attempt to understand the heart of Africa but rather judged it from a self- proclaimed superior, colonial position. I would have expected more from a South African novel with 200 years of experience since Conrad's novel.
Hegel het Afrika die donker kontinent genoem - en later het die nou-oorlede Johannes Kerkorrel gesing hoe Suid Afrika 'n "Donker Land" is. In ons huidige samelewing ervaar ons geweldige maatskaplikke rasprobleme. As Afrikaners is ons geneig om eenvoudig díé kwessie te ignoreer en soos Marlouw, die hoofkarakter, van enige kritici te vlug. Hy en sy familie, die Louw's, het na Australië verhuis juis om die donker kontinent te ontsnap.
Die storie speel af op 'n ongespesifiseerde tyd in die toekoms waar die 'virus' die hele land vernietig het, dit wil sê VIGS in die jare wanneer Venter die boek geskryf het. Marlo'tjie se nefie is 'n jong en fris man wat skielik na Suid Afrika vir onduidelikke redes vertrek - later soebat sy ma by Marlo'tjie om haar kind uit "daai donnerse land" te gaan haal. Skielik is Marlo'tjie ontheem en keer terug na sy geboorteland waar hy en sy familie vir 13 generasies lank in die Noordkaap geboer het (meestal skape).
Die roman tree in gesprek met "The Heart of Darkness" van Joseph Conrad en Venter erken aan die einde van die boek dat hy versigtig navorsing ingestel het deur om Chinau Achebe se kritiek daaromtrent te lees - Achebe voer aan dat "The Heart of Darkness" 'n rassistiese boek en uitbeelding is, en dat die Weste nog áltyd Afrika nodig gehad het en begeer het as maatstaf om homself teen te vergelyk. Venter ontsnap nie hierdie neiging nie, man sukkel om te verstaan hoekom die swart mense van Suid Afrika toelaat dat hulle samelewing tot niet gaan en hoekom die arme blankes wat agter bly hulle bloot gedra asof niks gebeur het nie.
Uiteindelik na 'n hele paar gebeurtenisse kom Marlo'tjie af op sy ou familieplaas 'Ouplaas'. Hy voel onseker weens sy mankvoet, 'n herinnering aan sy ouers se gebrek aan die vermoë om hom 'n hele persoon te gemaak het. Die kwessie van nalatenskap en verantwoordelikheid staan altyd sterk in die agtergrond vir Marlo'tjie en alle Afrikaners, beide weet nie waar hulle hóórt nie. Die karakters het allegoriese rolle: die vorige Louws was die ou "wit meesters", gaaf tot op 'n punt as hulle lus gehad het; Marlo'tjie en sy sussie verteenwoordig die generasie van wittes, wie nie wou sukkel nie en hulself eerder terug na 'n Westerse samelewing wou neem; Koert, die jong man, verskyn as 'n aakligge ondier van 'n man, grusaam vet wie in 'n mengelmoes van Afrikaans, Duits, Engels, en Nederlands praat. Koert leer ons deur die loop van die storie, het homself weer probeer stig op Ouplaas, die heimat na wie hy só moes verlang het; maar Koert is níé meer homself nie, sy transformasie tot in die wit meester eindig in rituele van heksery en primitiewe geesverdrywings soos die swart mense hul swak heer ontmag. Koert se mengelmoes van tale bewys dat hy omgeskep is tot die figuur van die koloniale meester (dus die vier tale wat in algemene gebruik was in Suid Afrika, en die grootste uitwerk op die vorming van Afrikaans gehad het) - soos die meesters word hy vet en septies van die 'teveel' van alles, sy bevele beteken niks meer sodra die beloftes van geld en volop samelewings nie geëer word nie. Marlo'tjie sien die verval en die negatiewe uitwerking wat die Afrikaner op Afrika het, en Afrika op die Afrikaner het - op 'n surrealistiese wyse vernietig Koert en Marlo'tjie saam dít wat nog oorbly van hul familie in die area, dit is 'n metaforiese vernietiging van enige fisiese bewys van die bestaan van die Afrikaner in Afrika.
Venter skryf natuurlik met groot vaardigheid en sy storie is kompleks in dat dit totaal onduidelik is wat hy daarmee bedoel. Ná my eie siening, geld die roman as een paadjie wat die wit Afrikaner kan stap. Op 'n ander manier rúk Venter Afrikaners by die kraag en dring daarop aan dat wit Afrikaners versigtig om hulle historiese en huidige rol in Afrika nadink.
skipped most of the second half. Too much helpless misery. Enjoyed a trip back to my place of birth. Glad to not have to live there, anymore. Enjoyed the last chapter.
I actually don't think this is satire but venter's actual beliefs. Written like a true white South African who emigrated to Australia because of the 'crime'. The horror.
Marlouw’s sister, Heleen, is worried. When her son, Koert, first went to visit his parents’ homeland in the Bloemfontein region of South Africa, he phoned or emailed almost every day, but now she hasn’t heard from him for weeks, and his last message was mostly gobbledygook. Reluctantly, but not without his own personal agenda, Marlouw agrees to travel from his home in Melbourne to try and find his nephew. Even if it weren’t for his club foot, the journey would be a difficult one in a country where AIDS is rife, the streets are lined with the hungry and desperate, and the infrastructure has collapsed. Full review Man and monster: Trencherman by Eben Venter http://annegoodwin.weebly.com/1/post/...
Thought-provoking and slightly scary projection of a devastated SA without electricity or law and order. Well written and also beautifully translated into English.