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Mating Birds
The story of a young South African black man obsessed with an English girl whom he encounters on the segregated Durban beachfront is told from the narrator's prison cell in this classic African novel. Although no words are exchanged, a connection develops between the two mismatched lovers, leading to an intense and ambiguous sexual encounter. He is charged with rape and receives the death sentence. Reconstructing his own history, his obsession with the girl, and his court proceedings, the narrator offers a powerful examination of the warped racial morality and brutality of apartheid.
184 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1986
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March 22, 2019
While short I savored reading every page. Beautifully written novel by Mr. Nkosi. I am surprised this work is not more well known. Many may be put off by the question of did he or didn’t he rape “the English girl” but then one must remember what South Africa was like during Apartheid. Better yet younger generations need to know what Apartheid was and though the country says all is forgiven scars remain. This slim novel about one Zulu man’s fateful encounter with a white woman on the beach should be high up on everyone’s reading list not only for the intimate look at this horrible time in history but also because of the beautiful prose.
“Here I already feel on the edge of a precipice. The outside world is a shadow without reality, a patch of blue sky seen through the bars of a prison window, a slash of sunshine caught suddenly in the unnatural silence of a working day, or a swath of moonbeam penetrating into a darkened cell through a high window grill at night. The world is a rumor of trains arriving and departing, of ships honking in the black harbor, of voices, laughter, and the sudden blast of a siren from an all-night production line. But occasionally, more cheering voices can be heard from all parts of the prison: political prisoners lustily singing freedom songs. ‘ Izokunyathel ’iAfrika, Van Rooyen!’ ( Africa will step on you, Van Rooyen,) “Thina Sizwe! Sikhalela umblaba wethu!” (We the Africans mourn the lost Africa) “Mabayek ’umblaba wethu!” ( They must leave our land alone!) Voices individually weak and at first very tentative, but once united combine into a single powerful sound rolling and thundering, shaking the very foundations of the prison walls. Yes, those voices keep me company. I couldn’t ask for a better send-off to the next world than those voices announcing the near-dawn of freedom, and then, of course the unruly birds, which I see daily mating in the sky!”
“Here I already feel on the edge of a precipice. The outside world is a shadow without reality, a patch of blue sky seen through the bars of a prison window, a slash of sunshine caught suddenly in the unnatural silence of a working day, or a swath of moonbeam penetrating into a darkened cell through a high window grill at night. The world is a rumor of trains arriving and departing, of ships honking in the black harbor, of voices, laughter, and the sudden blast of a siren from an all-night production line. But occasionally, more cheering voices can be heard from all parts of the prison: political prisoners lustily singing freedom songs. ‘ Izokunyathel ’iAfrika, Van Rooyen!’ ( Africa will step on you, Van Rooyen,) “Thina Sizwe! Sikhalela umblaba wethu!” (We the Africans mourn the lost Africa) “Mabayek ’umblaba wethu!” ( They must leave our land alone!) Voices individually weak and at first very tentative, but once united combine into a single powerful sound rolling and thundering, shaking the very foundations of the prison walls. Yes, those voices keep me company. I couldn’t ask for a better send-off to the next world than those voices announcing the near-dawn of freedom, and then, of course the unruly birds, which I see daily mating in the sky!”
June 17, 2008
A man may or may not have raped a woman. Maybe he did, maybe she encouraged it to beyond the point where it could be called an erotic game. Because she felt untouchable. At least by him. Because it isn't about rape. It's about race.
A young black man is accused of raping a white woman. He will be hanged. But there's no doubt he will be hanged for crimes way beyond that of raping. He will be hanged for his activist rebellion at the university he was expelled from. Maybe even for having thought for himself, for having critically discussed the traditionally apartheid teachings at the university. For not being a "good black", submissive and grateful and slavering for even being allowed into the white realms of learning in the first place.
He is to state an example. He is to show the cozily scared white spectators what happens if you don't keep your blacks under tight control. How they will react if you allow them the same privileges you have.
It describes a way of thinking that is, unfortunately, still very much part of life in South Africa today.
A young black man is accused of raping a white woman. He will be hanged. But there's no doubt he will be hanged for crimes way beyond that of raping. He will be hanged for his activist rebellion at the university he was expelled from. Maybe even for having thought for himself, for having critically discussed the traditionally apartheid teachings at the university. For not being a "good black", submissive and grateful and slavering for even being allowed into the white realms of learning in the first place.
He is to state an example. He is to show the cozily scared white spectators what happens if you don't keep your blacks under tight control. How they will react if you allow them the same privileges you have.
It describes a way of thinking that is, unfortunately, still very much part of life in South Africa today.
August 18, 2018
3.8 Stars
I started this book on the train on my way to Zell am See, Austria and coincidentally finished it within similar circumstances. The writing was poetic, Nkosi was graphic in his descriptions and the images he used were nothing short of beautiful. There were parts that made me cringe, and chapters that made me roll my eyes in disgust or annoyance. But for the life of me I can’t say that it wasn’t brilliant. After all, I literally snatched the book from the dusty shelves of an old bookstore in Prague, and dived into it blindly without the faintest idea of what I was getting myself into. But I’m glad I did, I learnt a lot about South African history, and the struggles of African natives during apartheid. And my reading experience of it will always remain carved within my memory.
I started this book on the train on my way to Zell am See, Austria and coincidentally finished it within similar circumstances. The writing was poetic, Nkosi was graphic in his descriptions and the images he used were nothing short of beautiful. There were parts that made me cringe, and chapters that made me roll my eyes in disgust or annoyance. But for the life of me I can’t say that it wasn’t brilliant. After all, I literally snatched the book from the dusty shelves of an old bookstore in Prague, and dived into it blindly without the faintest idea of what I was getting myself into. But I’m glad I did, I learnt a lot about South African history, and the struggles of African natives during apartheid. And my reading experience of it will always remain carved within my memory.
January 1, 2013
It's about a particular situation in South Africa during apartheid. A black man was accused of raping a white woman. From the perspective of the accused black male, it was a mutual sexual act. "we were lovers in everything but in name." But this claim could not save him. Not even their daily rendezvous everyday at the beach, no matter how silent their bold stares, could establish their relationship. Not when she was on that side of the beach indicating 'for whites only.'
Upon finishing the book, i was reminded of a friend's question: "how do we measure empowerment?" I wonder if it is about overcoming discrimination, or being able to voice your piece, or in the case of this story- is it about consummating the passion....I still do not know the answer, but one thing i realize from Mating Birds: even if we are able to conquer barriers, there is no guarantee that the result is less painful than the process. But fact remains, freedom lies in the cages that we resist. When we're free, we can fly. When we fly, our wings are surely not broken.
****
on a positive note: the quote above on 'being lovers but in name' reminded me of our very own Jose Rizal*'s love story. In his diary, Memorias de Un Estudiante de Manila, written in November 16, 1881, Rizal wrote about his first love : “It is true that during the conversation our eyes met, and the most intense glances full of a loving melancholy expression came to enslave my soul forever.” Wait, there's more: "Everywhere I heard only talk about our relations and the truth to tell is that we loved each other without having ever declared it clearly except that we understood each other through our glances." (http://www.philstar.com/Article.aspx?...)
My heart sighs when I read Rizal's words - a national hero who've fallen for Segunda Katigbak (a Lipeña, a town's mate no less, ehem).
Upon finishing the book, i was reminded of a friend's question: "how do we measure empowerment?" I wonder if it is about overcoming discrimination, or being able to voice your piece, or in the case of this story- is it about consummating the passion....I still do not know the answer, but one thing i realize from Mating Birds: even if we are able to conquer barriers, there is no guarantee that the result is less painful than the process. But fact remains, freedom lies in the cages that we resist. When we're free, we can fly. When we fly, our wings are surely not broken.
****
on a positive note: the quote above on 'being lovers but in name' reminded me of our very own Jose Rizal*'s love story. In his diary, Memorias de Un Estudiante de Manila, written in November 16, 1881, Rizal wrote about his first love : “It is true that during the conversation our eyes met, and the most intense glances full of a loving melancholy expression came to enslave my soul forever.” Wait, there's more: "Everywhere I heard only talk about our relations and the truth to tell is that we loved each other without having ever declared it clearly except that we understood each other through our glances." (http://www.philstar.com/Article.aspx?...)
My heart sighs when I read Rizal's words - a national hero who've fallen for Segunda Katigbak (a Lipeña, a town's mate no less, ehem).
July 4, 2016
Mating Birds is a metaphorical depiction of forbidden interracial dating during the apartheid era. It is a protest novel in which we meet a black man and a white woman who had a non-verbal relationship across the colour line.
When the two are caught engaged in a sexual act, the white lady cries rape and the black man is sentenced to death for his role in it. She walks free.
The book gives insight on the diabolical reality that was life for blacks during apartheid era. White privilege is exposed in the form of a white woman that seduced a black man into having a relationship with her, but when they're caught she accuses him of having forced himself on her and the state lets her continue with her life while he is killed. 9/10
When the two are caught engaged in a sexual act, the white lady cries rape and the black man is sentenced to death for his role in it. She walks free.
The book gives insight on the diabolical reality that was life for blacks during apartheid era. White privilege is exposed in the form of a white woman that seduced a black man into having a relationship with her, but when they're caught she accuses him of having forced himself on her and the state lets her continue with her life while he is killed. 9/10
February 3, 2019
"Death by hanging!
That is to be my crown of thorns. Death, at any rate, for the unpardonable crime of having been born black in a world where White Is Right and White Is Might."
“From now on it appears I can only let myself go. It is a moment of supreme relief, that total surrender to an impulse older than human law, more ancient that civilization itself, for it is only by penetrating into the forbidden portrays of that royal hearth that I feel I can achieve total liberation; then die”
“ The fact that we live in a continent marked by the absence of human thought, science and philosophy, a continent in which there is a viable lack of art, music and architecture, is not one that we can regard as an occasion for humor. For it is not one of the appalling facts of our circumstance that in Africa we are surrounded not by monuments to the human spirit and human achievement, but by a startling absence, an oppressive spiritual vacuum, an imponderable silence”
“the natives, left to their tribal environment, were all right, their morals were even superior to those of some whites, but given a smattering of education, they became spoiled and thought of themselves as equals of white men.”
“It's a pity he developed a taste for white women, otherwise he wouldn't be waiting to hang now, eh, Sibiya?"
“ Trajic consequence of the ill-conceived projects of social upliftment, which white liberals fondly hoped would transform the native into something like white men.”
“In a confused sort of way, I sensed, too, with very little experience to guide me, that,the path on which I was now launched ,would mean at some future date a complete break with the family, with the clan and with all that had sustained my spirit up to now. Henceforth I would remain one of the Sibiyas only in name, but in every way that mattered I would become a “ white man”, as my half-brother, Sipho, had once gravely told me”
For this adventure I needed my battle dress in the form of a school uniform and implements of war such as books, slates, notebooks and pens.
“ I have lived, always, resentfully, on the fringes of a white world that tried to keep me out.
“ the fact that we live in a continent marked by the absence of human thought, science and philosophy, a continent in which there is a viable lack of art, music and architecture, is not one that we can regard as an occasion for humor. For it is not one of the appalling facts of our circumstance that in Africa we are surrounded not by monuments to the human spirit and human achievement, but by a startling absence, an oppressive spiritual vacuum, an imponderable silence”
“All the same, we both tried to maintain a minimum of decorum required of those who, living in a country that sternly forbids racial mixing, still feel compelled to graze over on the other side of the fence. Part of the unstated rules of the game, enforced by nothing less than fear of imprisonment that would follow discovery, was
the preserving, day after day, week after week, of this harrowing torment of community »
"To be born is to have commenced to die"
"I feel the urgent need to explain myself. Life plays us so many jokes"
"She spoke glowingly, persuasively, of The opportunities opening up for black people with learning. She conjured up vast empires to be conquered with nothing more powerful than a pen and tutored mind."
The Mating Birds is a metaphor of a silent ferocious cultural encounter between White “superior” culture, represented by Veronica and Black culture represented by Sibiya. The moment of the silent sexual mating between Sibiya and Veronica is a cultural union between the world of “White” and the World of non-white. In this respect, the sign, “Bathing area- for whites only”, is a central motive that provokes Sibiya to experience the forbidden world of the White and thus break its unfounded boundaries, which excluded him. The protagonist’s attempt to break the boundaries between the culture of the metropolitan center and the culture of the periphery is a significant cry towards a subtle change. The protagonist’s gain of power through his appropriation of the pen, as a symbol of knowledge of the world of White, is another motive that leads him to his tragic downfall. The hanging of Ndi clearly illustrates a tragic failure of the non-dominated White race to gain power over the dominating White race. I am always true to you Zulu culture in my fashion.
" to read and write, to communicate messages over long distances, that was part of the magic of the white man everyone wished to acquire. Yes, I'm to die. I'll die a victim not of this white woman's lunatic lies and my own worthless passion for what remained always a light beyond my reach, a light beyclnd the horizon; all this can be forgiven. Love, passion, simplicity, eVfn ignorance can be forgiven. They are not the things for which one is ashatned to die. But they are not what I will die for. No, I'll die of a vaster, deeper, more cruel conspiracy by the rulers of my country who have made a certain knowledge between persons of different races not only impossible to achieve but posi- tively dangerous even to atte1rt.pt to acquire. They have made contact between the races a cause for profoundest alarm amongst white citizens."
" Before the new pupils could be taught, they had also to embrace the new faith. On this the church was adamant. Everyone agreed, it was a small price to pay for enabling one child in an entire household to acquire knowledge that the white man alone possessed."
“A heart in love is a heart in flight, the body simply follows where passion leads, and a doomed passion is the most dangerous beacause it is the most powerful”
“From now on it appears I can only let myself go. It is a moment of supreme relief, that total surrender to an impulse older than human law, more ancient that civilization itself, for it is only by penetrating into the forbidden portrays of that royal hearth that I feel I can achieve total liberation; then die”
“ The fact that we live in a continent marked by the absence of human thought, science and philosophy, a continent in which there is a viable lack of art, music and architecture, is not one that we can regard as an occasion for humor. For it is not one of the appalling facts of our circumstance that in Africa we are surrounded not by monuments to the human spirit and human achievement, but by a startling absence, an oppressive spiritual vacuum, an imponderable silence”
“the natives, left to their tribal environment, were all right, their morals were even superior to those of some whites, but given a smattering of education, they became spoiled and thought of themselves as equals of white men.”
“It's a pity he developed a taste for white women, otherwise he wouldn't be waiting to hang now, eh, Sibiya?"
“ Trajic consequence of the ill-conceived projects of social upliftment, which white liberals fondly hoped would transform the native into something like white men.”
“In a confused sort of way, I sensed, too, with very little experience to guide me, that,the path on which I was now launched ,would mean at some future date a complete break with the family, with the clan and with all that had sustained my spirit up to now. Henceforth I would remain one of the Sibiyas only in name, but in every way that mattered I would become a “ white man”, as my half-brother, Sipho, had once gravely told me”
For this adventure I needed my battle dress in the form of a school uniform and implements of war such as books, slates, notebooks and pens.
“ I have lived, always, resentfully, on the fringes of a white world that tried to keep me out.
“ the fact that we live in a continent marked by the absence of human thought, science and philosophy, a continent in which there is a viable lack of art, music and architecture, is not one that we can regard as an occasion for humor. For it is not one of the appalling facts of our circumstance that in Africa we are surrounded not by monuments to the human spirit and human achievement, but by a startling absence, an oppressive spiritual vacuum, an imponderable silence”
“All the same, we both tried to maintain a minimum of decorum required of those who, living in a country that sternly forbids racial mixing, still feel compelled to graze over on the other side of the fence. Part of the unstated rules of the game, enforced by nothing less than fear of imprisonment that would follow discovery, was
the preserving, day after day, week after week, of this harrowing torment of community »
"To be born is to have commenced to die"
"I feel the urgent need to explain myself. Life plays us so many jokes"
"She spoke glowingly, persuasively, of The opportunities opening up for black people with learning. She conjured up vast empires to be conquered with nothing more powerful than a pen and tutored mind."
The Mating Birds is a metaphor of a silent ferocious cultural encounter between White “superior” culture, represented by Veronica and Black culture represented by Sibiya. The moment of the silent sexual mating between Sibiya and Veronica is a cultural union between the world of “White” and the World of non-white. In this respect, the sign, “Bathing area- for whites only”, is a central motive that provokes Sibiya to experience the forbidden world of the White and thus break its unfounded boundaries, which excluded him. The protagonist’s attempt to break the boundaries between the culture of the metropolitan center and the culture of the periphery is a significant cry towards a subtle change. The protagonist’s gain of power through his appropriation of the pen, as a symbol of knowledge of the world of White, is another motive that leads him to his tragic downfall. The hanging of Ndi clearly illustrates a tragic failure of the non-dominated White race to gain power over the dominating White race. I am always true to you Zulu culture in my fashion.
" to read and write, to communicate messages over long distances, that was part of the magic of the white man everyone wished to acquire. Yes, I'm to die. I'll die a victim not of this white woman's lunatic lies and my own worthless passion for what remained always a light beyond my reach, a light beyclnd the horizon; all this can be forgiven. Love, passion, simplicity, eVfn ignorance can be forgiven. They are not the things for which one is ashatned to die. But they are not what I will die for. No, I'll die of a vaster, deeper, more cruel conspiracy by the rulers of my country who have made a certain knowledge between persons of different races not only impossible to achieve but posi- tively dangerous even to atte1rt.pt to acquire. They have made contact between the races a cause for profoundest alarm amongst white citizens."
" Before the new pupils could be taught, they had also to embrace the new faith. On this the church was adamant. Everyone agreed, it was a small price to pay for enabling one child in an entire household to acquire knowledge that the white man alone possessed."
“A heart in love is a heart in flight, the body simply follows where passion leads, and a doomed passion is the most dangerous beacause it is the most powerful”
December 16, 2017
The story of the "Mating birds" is told beautifully, at an acceptable pace. however, Mr. Nkosi, being a poet, writes in a complex way and it is hard to follow the flow of the story if not focused. This is one story that demands attention but really enjoyable.
The stupid laws of apartheid, as well as the notion of White people being superior is displayed in the story. It is not apartheid literature but rather a story of love and how an act of love resulted in death. read the book!
The stupid laws of apartheid, as well as the notion of White people being superior is displayed in the story. It is not apartheid literature but rather a story of love and how an act of love resulted in death. read the book!
November 26, 2024
Randomly chanced upon this novel in a thrift store. With little fluff on my edition to promote it, i read the first few lines, and took a chance on it. i have been delightfully surprised. The framing of this narrative is not immediately obvious and told to us until a bit into the thick of it. That and the circumstances, condemned to death and in prison, amongst the tension of apartheid; one part the classic existentialist novels i devoured as a teen, and one part the literature i read in high school around the same time to expand my mind to the history of the world i found myself in. Idle thoughts of teaching this text to high-schoolers drifted through my mind while reading this, undoubtedly. The language might get too florid on the regular to be of ease for readers of that age, but nonetheless. i can't help but feel a reflection of myself, and the reader as an entity, in the character of the psychoanalyst that observes and questions our protagonist. "It is a modern disease, this appetite for facts that, once obtained, it is hoped, will explain everything." We rifle through the papers of our subject and hope to find answers. i tried to change my way of thinking, after being called out so thoroughly by the above quotation. Allowing myself to listen, consider, and come to my own conclusions- not leaning on opinion disguised as logic and 'fact'. And i do not know what happened that day, between that young african man and white woman. And it does not matter. He was always doomed from the start, condemned by the society around him, and the inescapable shortcomings of the mortal body. So it goes.
May 22, 2018
Inizia in maniere interessante con un uomo condannato a morte che descrive la propria situazione con irregolari flashback su quanto accaduto nel proprio passato (casuali, quasi involontari, ma inseriti senza colpo ferire in altre considerazioni) e sull'ossessione che lo ha condotto a essere accusato di un crimine. Il tutto nel quadro del Sud Africa dell'apartheid, con le dovute differenze culturali (il medico svizzero venuto apposta per tracciare il profilo del detenuto) la differenti reazioni fra opinione pubblica bianca e zulu.
Ma quasi a metà il libro si dimostra fin troppo lungo, inutilmente tentennante, in una diminuzione del ritmo che rasenta il fastidio.
Di media rimane comunque una buona lettura
Ma quasi a metà il libro si dimostra fin troppo lungo, inutilmente tentennante, in una diminuzione del ritmo che rasenta il fastidio.
Di media rimane comunque una buona lettura
September 4, 2022
Een eerste kennismaking met Zuid-Afrikaanse literatuur. Het verhaal is op het eerste gezicht een beetje plat (zwarte man wordt verleid door een witte vrouw, deze verhouding is ten tijden van rassenscheiding verboden en alles wordt in geuren en kleuren uit de doeken gedaan), maar daaronder ligt een kritiek op de samenleving, op regels en wetten, op het overnemen van een land en een beschaving door vreemde mensen en op de stereotype beelden van de verhoudingen tussen man en vrouw en wit en zwart.
June 25, 2023
A young black man is imprisoned for allegations of rape of a white woman in apartheid South Africa. As he sits in his prison cell awaiting execution, he recollects to a Swiss psychoanalyst his boyhood, his parents, his ambitions to become his country's preeminent writer: a life disrupted by an infatuation he develops for a woman suntanning on a segregated beach.
February 16, 2025
nkosi was writing on a level way above his twentieth century contemporaries, a moving short novel on intimate violence, apartheid, and prison writing and how South Africa's racial laws and settler government made and unmade Black masculinity and femininity. coetzee wishes!
August 17, 2018
lewis nkosi
April 24, 2020
Read for a class on Post colonial literatures ruing college at Hampshire.
November 7, 2020
Kuuntelin suomeksi. Linnun kiima.
June 11, 2024
thanks oliver
August 14, 2014
Wow, what a book indeed. the expression that he used to explain the appearance of the white girl he saw everyday at the beach and how his imagination would run wild with the things he would do to her if he got a chance. The prosecution was the best,including the process and that he became a celeb to black people for breaking the biggest apartheid law by taking whats forbidden.in the end he would be killed for that one thing that he grew up being warned off (their smooth soft skin,silky hair and unforgettable scent).
March 25, 2011
Did he or didn't he? Very cleverly written.
Somewhat irritated by the preface to the book. It guides the reader to read with a specific set of eyes and mores. Should rather have been tacked onto the end of the book.
Somewhat irritated by the preface to the book. It guides the reader to read with a specific set of eyes and mores. Should rather have been tacked onto the end of the book.
August 4, 2011
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
September 16, 2011
No resolution, cleverly mimicking the fraught postcolonial relations.
September 23, 2012
another favourite
August 2, 2016
Reminded me a lot of Albert Camus's "L'étranger"
April 20, 2015
Nice book !
Read
September 20, 2016Didn't like. But I finished.
Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews