From the acclaimed South African novelist, a lyrical tale of self-discovery in post-apartheid cape town.Set in a beautifully rendered 1990s Cape Town, Playing in the Light revolves around Marion, a woman of Afrikaner background, who hates traveling but nonetheless runs a travel agency, and her complex relationship with Brenda, the first black woman she has ever employed.In writing as finely detailed and attuned to psychological nuance as Anita Brookner's, Wicomb depicts the life of a complicated, single woman in a changing and complicated place. Caught up in the narrow world of private interests and self-advancement, Marion eschews national politics until the exposures of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission lead to the discovery of a skeleton in the family cupboard. While her aging father is unable and unwilling to supply the truth, Marion's young employee becomes implicated in the piecing together of Marion's past, leading to a defining transformation and widening of Marion's world.In this impeccably wrought new work, the acclaimed author of You Can't Get Lost in Cape Town provides wisdom and insight about the new South Africa and about people everywhere.
Zoë Wicomb attended the University of the Western Cape, and after graduating left South Africa for England in 1970, where she continued her studies at Reading University. She lived in Nottingham and Glasgow and returned to South Africa in 1990, where she taught for three years in the department of English at the University of the Western Cape She gained attention in South Africa and internationally with her first work, a collection of short stories , You Can't Get Lost in Cape Town (1987), which takes place during the apartheid era. Her second novel, David's Story (2002), takes place in 1991 toward the close of the apartheid era and uses the ambiguous classification of coloureds to explore racial identity. Playing in the Light, her third novel, released in 2006, covers similar terrain conceptually, though this time set in contemporary South Africa and centering around a white woman who learns that her parents were actually coloured. She published her second collection of short stories, The One That Got Away. The stories, set mainly in Cape Town and Glasgow, explore a range of human relationships: marriage, friendships, family ties or relations with servants.
She was a winner of the 2013 Windham–Campbell Literature Prize for Fiction.
Zoe Wicomb resides in Glasgow where she teaches creative writing and post-colonial literature at the University of Strathclyde.
"It is a picture of time, a projection of rain drilling into the angled glass, rolling down the pane, translating itself into a dance of light in the wall." They play in the light, this couple who think they have found a way to survive. They deny themselves, hide from the world, show up disguised. Caught in their web of lies is a daughter, Marion, she who is withdrawn, unaffectionate, judgmental. Marion has carved a nice life for herself at a travel agency she owns. She visits and cares for her sick father. When she learns her true identity, things unfold. And this, the second half of the book, is when the story juts out, reveals many layers. Marion reminds me of Mercia in Wicomb's October, except that Mercia is more aware, more grounded. Marion is detached and this permeates the novel. She "has an irrational fear of nervously ending her own conversation with Love you...it makes her think of shards of china, of the cacophony of crockery thrown at a cold English grate." Her friendship with Brenda offers her clarity, forces her to view her world in a way she'd never considered, even though it takes awhile before she actually sees Brenda, before she actually considers her a friend. As usual, Wicomb uses evocative storytelling to reveal the context of life in South Africa during the 1990s. In her singular style that I've grown accustomed to—a style free of quotation marks and replete with lucid sentences that devour characters' inner voices—Wicomb tells a story of relationships fraught with emotional and historical baggage; a story of people in search of the truth.
This stunning account of life in Cape Town a few years following the dissolution of apartheid rings true on every page. A successful businesswoman with her own travel agency, Marion Campbell doesn't dispute her personal history until memories resurface regarding a beloved family retainer, and also of the relationship between her contentious parents. As she delves deeper, the cruelties and absurdities of living under that inhuman institution provide her with self knowledge and awareness. Wicomb is a fluid, graceful writer -- I look forward to reading more from her.
I found this book stunning in its development and imagery. I too have not the patience to look up Afrikaans words, but I found in context the meaning usually emerged, and I didn't think they detracted from the beauty of the writing. A translation of the poems and songs would have been helpful, but if you read the copyright page you will see that The New Press has a mission that may make the additional expense of providing translations (ideally in footnotes) too expensive. I am grateful the The New Press and Stanford Book Salon for bringing this novel to my attention. The racial complexities in South Africa are far different from those in the US. It is good to have insight into them.
Marion is an isolated person, living alone, not inviting people in, keeping her father at a distance. This begins to change after the dream she reports beginning on p. 29. Traveling and reading novels are both means of self-exploration and ways of bringing herself out into the world. If Marion's mother Helen were still present, Marion would be unable to search for her identity, both internally and in the world. Only after her mother's death can Marion break away from her rigid controlling; only then can John Campbell tell his daughter the truth about her mixed family.
Marion’s friendship with Brenda and its vicissitudes show that Marion is a more profoundly damaged person than Brenda, despite her advantaged place in society.
There is a youtube video of a woman doing her grocery shopping. It begins in the parking lot, follows her throughout the store, "waits" with her in line, then back out to the parking lot, and the last minute or so is shot in her kitchen putting up the groceries that she just purchased. I watched it, and afterwards I asked: why? why? with so much else out there, why did I watch this woman do her grocery shopping? I had the same reaction to the first half of this novel. Nothing wrong with it, but the interest level was the same as watching the youtube woman do her shopping. I was about to put the novel down. Just one more section (2-5 pages) and then that will be all, the book will go into the return-to-library pile. That section is when it changed. The author begins to tell of the life of the parents of the main character, and that's when the novel got interesting. Only lasted 50 pages, but it was the best part of the novel. The reason why is a major spoiler; here it is: . When the focus returns to the main character, it's watching grocery store shopping time again. So, my overall rating is 2 *'s, but the 50-ish page interval in the middle is 4*.
Playing in the Light by Zoe Wicomb focuses on the issue of identity and race both at individual and national levels. This novel revolves around the characters rather than the plot, and it deals with race issues, along with personal, familial, and social relationships. This novel narrates the story of Marion Campbell, who lives in Cape Town, South Africa, in post-apartheid times of 1990. Marion’s parents, John and Hellen, moved from the countryside to a house in Observatory during apartheid. Generally, I was lost tracking the events in Marion's life and had a hard time understanding.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Omg. I loved this book. I didn't love the ending but what a fabulous writer. Apparently this is her first novel - she is a short story writer, set in South Africa after apartheid about a successful business woman discovering her past. Just the description of the light on the wall when she is visiting England is worth the book.
An interesting portrait of the subtleties of racial classifications in apartheid and post-apartheid South Africa. I wasn't mad for it, but the characters were somewhat engaging and the book picked up in the 2nd half.
Playing in the Light is the story of a coloured family living in Apartheid South Africa - in Cape Town - who pretend to be white - they fake their "whiteness." Their daughter, Marion, is brought up as white and only discovers her past as an adult as part of the unfolding narrative. I sometimes found the plot and the politics too explicit which is completely different from how I found Wicomb's nuanced and subtle writing. Overall, the writing won me over and I would rate Wicomb highly.
Ok but I hated this so much at the beginning, but then about half way through (when Marion became more bearable), I really got into it. All in all, I liked it! Very literature, very art, very interesting. There’s so much here you could discuss in an essay (hmm… who knows!), so hopefully we can actually dig into some things in class.
Honestly I found this quite hard to get through. I found the history more interesting than the story itself, except for about fifty pages in the middle talking about the main character parents. Besides that this was difficult to finish.
Did not finish therefore I won't give a rating but God I wish books like this came with a warning that the lead character is wholly unlikable.
Began well with minute descriptions of Cape Town scenes which was lovely to find joy in the familiar but the story itself is lacking in any likeable character to drive the reader forward.
quite a difficult read to get into. also did not really connect with any of the characters, they fell kind of flat. however, the topics at its center were very interesting.
This book is being discussed this month through the Stanford online "Seriously Unstuffy Book Salon." I had never heard of the author so read it because it was the March book choice. I now want to recommend it to my Colorado book group because not only is it very well written, but I also think it will engender a wonderful discussion. The title, "Playing in the Light" can be "read" in several ways. It takes place in Capetown, South Africa in post apartheid times. I would rank it among the works of Nadine Gordimer and JM Coetzee, two of my favorite authors.
set in the years of post-apartheid south africa, this is a book about the porosity of boundaries—including that between the dead and the living, the lingering ghosts of colonialism and its legacies. how do you make sense of the self when the lines between black and white, private and public, truth and lie, human and monster, are blurred? even past and present, the mc becoming pulled into a phantasmagoria of history.
not sure how i feel about this book tbh. it felt very much like a portrait or a character study. the premise was certainly interesting, and everything falls into place once it's revealed—but it's a reveal that doesn't feel entirely satisfying, because it's one neither the reader nor the protagonist has really earned. it's told to us before we've even asked for it. sure, i thought, i guess i'll take it. the narrative feels a little unfocused; it mostly feels successful in capturing the perspective of a slightly neurotic single woman in her 30s(?), her insecurities and encounters with female friendship, success, literature, travel, etc., but in a way that made me feel a bit always aware of the author's seeming desire to cram all these little revelations/observations into one book, one character's experience. i do think the book is an interesting and successful experiment in leveraging the reader's expectations, subverting our various identifications with the characters, and discussing the idea of "playing in the light" and of racial construction in a smart way.
read as part of my pocolit reading list from the oxford days.
This is a book that gets better as it goes along...the first half+ feels rather mundane and purposeless, but the novel picks up speed and emotional intensity about two-thirds of the way through. From that point on, more of the beginning starts to make sense and an appreciation is created for the daily life that has been so clearly illustrated. Without that, I don't think the end would feel so impactful. There's also a lot in this book that relies on knowledge of South Africa leading up to and during the time that the story was set...of which I really only have a slim outline of understanding. It was definitely one of those times where the value of schema stands out - had I had more, I think my depth of appreciation and engagement would have been greater. Still, there's a lot to think about in this novel, particularly around issues of identity, social consciousness, and racism. It's definitely worth muddling through the beginning in order to get to the end.
#womenwritersoftheworld -> Southern Africa selection (South Africa)
2.5 I got in the story until the mystery regarding her ancestry was revealed and then, I was not into it anymore. I felt the second part of the novel long and I did not feel like it succeeded in achieving anything in particular. Maybe it is because I had already encountered the premise of the importance of rememory in (Neo)Slave Narratives and I really enjoyed the way it was described and lived by the characters like in the case of Dana in Butler's Kindred. I did like the father/daughter relationship that felt authentic and moving while being complexified by the role-playing his father undertook throughout Marion's life. I also did appreciate the use of imagery regarding the panic attacks Marion has in her beds, when she feels the linen enclosing on her and the reccurent image of the face of Patricia Williams which creates an obsession in Marion's mind.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
“Recitare la parte dei bianchi, giocare a fare i bianchi: mia definizione è stata più inadeguata. Non c’era niente del gioco nella loro condizione. Non soltanto erano terribilmente seri, ma quella faccenda di fare i bianchi richiedeva coraggio, determinazione, perseveranza, impegno. Nemmeno nell’intimità della loro casa potevano lasciarsi andare. Nella luce accecante del bianco, camminavano esposti: gechi pallidi, vulnerabili, dalla struttura scheletrica visibile attraverso la carne trasparente. Con una figlia da allevare, una distinzione tra pubblico e privato era un lusso che non potevano neanche prendere in considerazione; l’io pubblico richiedeva tutte le loro energie. Sotto l’abbigliante luce della ribalta dei bianchi, recitavano con diligenza, con continuità: il passato, e con ecco la coscienza, si erano ridotti a un punto nero in lontananza.”
This says more about me than the book, but broadly speaking I appreciated the parts about history and didn't love the more literary or character-driven sections, which comprise most of the novel. I suspect this book is more meaningful if you have a more granular knowledge of South Africa than I do -- but I suppose it's good to be a little at sea amidst a bunch of Afrikaans words sometimes. It made me reflect on the point of historical fiction...increasingly, it just makes me want to read more history!
The plot and main character didn't do much for me, especially the ending, in which a lot of things happen very suddenly to wrap it up. But the sections about laws codifying whiteness during apartheid were fascinating, and I especially enjoyed the exploration of this weird moment after apartheid when many South Africans were very eager to move on and forget the past.
another book that came at a very busy time in my life, but i reallyy enjoyed it. i wish i could've read deeper, and that i didn't have to skim some parts, but this is another one i would really recommend (well maybe). the story itself is really interesting, but the way it is written is a little confusing, and i think it's helpful to read and talk about it in a class setting too. i'll say (SPOILER ALERT) we talked about a theory in class that Brenda wrote most of/if not all of the book we are reading, but i personally don't like that (i like the idea of a more collaborative free-indirect discourse process, like everyone has a hand in the story). also, not sure if this is a hot take, but sometimes i really like a quick "unravelling-esque" ending to a book, and i think this one does that quite well ALSO ALSO the photo on the cover omg so cool (jan dibbets)
Wicomb writes beautifully, and the story became more engrossing with each page. I was a bit at sea with the dialects and language of the "coloured" people native to South Africa, as well as the political history of apartheid and all it meant to families and individuals throughout the country's struggles with racial identities. The main character, Marion, begins to doubt and then suspect her family of origin, thinking first that she must have been adopted but discovering that her parents had chosen a deception to which she was an unwitting participant. One of my favorite parts of Marion's growth is her discovery of the power of words, of stories, of novels, to help in her self-understanding.
College alumni book group read - based, those of us in my book group agreed, on a rather broad definition of "disaster."
I read a couple of South African novels in high school (which is more than the number of Indian novels we read, which, in retrospect, is kind of bizarre), but I hadn't read any since then until I read this book, and it was definitely a draw for me to read a book immersed in the culture of this country with a significant English-speaking population that I know so little about (I mean, I obviously know some stuff about the history and current political and social issues in the country, but I don't really know that much about what individual people's lives are like).
Interessante perché mostra un mondo che sicuramente non conoscevo, sembra inconcepibile questa divisione tra coloured (persone che hanno un genitore o antenato nero) e bianchi, soprattutto perché è una divisione basata sull'aspetto. I genitori di Marion hanno un aspetto bianco e come tali vivono, rinunciando però al rapporto con le loro famiglie di origine, i cui membri in parte hanno la pelle scura. Marion scopre di non essere "bianca" a metà libro, la prende piuttosto apaticamente, sembra quasi che se l'aspettasse o che ormai non abbia più importanza. Personaggi un po' fiacchi, senza spessore, scrittura lenta.
Plutôt 3,5. Un roman vraiment intéressant, qui aborde des thématiques historiques que je connaissais peu : les lois raciales en Afrique du Sud et les conséquences qu'elles ont eu sur les familles. Le classement des gens en fonction de leur couleur de peau et les droits, ou plutôt absence de droits qui en découlaient. C'est effroyable. Mais malheureusement, comme j'ai aussi eu le cas avec Toni Morrison, l'écriture sèche et aride m'a parfois empêchée de complètement rentrer dans l'histoire. Et la personnalité froide et détachée de la narratrice tiennent le lecteur à distance.
playing in the light is a reality, sadly, some societies are still performing. the necessity to fit in -regardless of the consequences- is appalling.
a good novel showcasing the burden of obliterating one's past and the heaviness of revelation of unspoken sacrifices.
"his mantra of we-did-our-best-for-you is infuriating, typical of a generation who bullied their children and believed that they could mould them in their own images."
Un romanzo mesmerizzante, dallo stile impeccabile, adamantino. Un ritratto fedele fino al midollo della presa di coscienza della protagonista, Marion, che smania dalla voglia di comprendere le sue radici. Ci riuscirà? Forse, alla fine dei conti, non importa. Zoë Wicomb racconta un capitolo di storia del Sudafrica in maniera eccellente.
An interesting look into apartheid and "play whites" in South Africa. I found the topic of the novel interesting, but the style of writing, such as no use of direct speech, left me a bit separated from the action and I never fully engaged with any of it.
While I want more from the ending, I cannot fault this novel. It’s magnificent writing, and gives light to the little documented history of brown South Africans and those who played white.
I was reaally enjoying this for much of the way and thought I might give it a 5, but then it slows down as the protagonist goes to the UK, including Scotland (where the author teaches). Still, it's a super-interesting examination of race in the New South Africa. I might teach it some day.
Teetering between a 4 and a 5 star on this one. Very very good. Marion is a very good character. I think I like the ending but I def have to sit on it. Beautifully done. Probably my favorite book I’ve read for the class that this is for.