October

by Zoë Wicomb

“Mercia Murray is a woman of fifty-two years who has been left.” Abandoned by her partner in Scotland, where she has been living for twenty-five years, Mercia returns to her homeland of South Africa to find her family overwhelmed by alcoholism and secrets. Poised between her life in Scotland and her life in South Africa, she recollects the past with a keen sense of irony as she searches for some idea of home. In Scotland, her life feels unfamiliar; her apartment sits empty. In South Africa, her only brother is a shell of his former self, pushing her away. And yet in both places she is needed, if only she could understand what for. Plumbing the emotional limbo of a woman who is isolated and torn from her roots, October is a stark and utterly compelling novel about the contemporary experience of an intelligent immigrant, adrift among her memories and facing an uncertain middle age.

With this pitch-perfect story, the “writer of rare brilliance” (The Scotsman) Zoë Wicomb—who received one of the first Donald Windham–Sandy M. Campbell Literature Prizes for lifetime achievement—stands to claim her rightful place as one of the preeminent contemporary voices in international fiction.

Genres: Fiction, Africa, South Africa, Scotland, African Literature, Novels, Literary Fiction

255 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2014

About the author

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.

Reviews

[Cheryl · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love reading books from around the world and I love coming across authors whose work I know I should pause to read. I heard about Zoë Wicomb years ago, even read snippets of her work, but never truly paused, until now, to delve into one of her books.

So layered are the fragrances of the past, so spliced the memories of places, that nostalgia will have to do without an object.

Short stories have a way of giving you a glimpse of an author. Normally when I start a joint read with someone, I suggest reading a short story of the author's first. I was introduced to Zoë Wicomb's short story in The Granta Book of the African Short Story and after that I knew I had to read her novel.

This novel is slow-paced and retrospective. It is a true examination of the choices we make and it stylistically utilizes character interiority as mood. The moment you start reading it is clear you are being guided by a gifted writer.

October. Around the world October represents various colors, temperatures, textures. For Mercia, an African exile who resides in Scotland, it represents mood and memory:

Mercia wanted to talk about the melancholia that descended on her in October, how it took years in the Northern Hemisphere before she realized that the sadness came regularly at autumn.

Mercia is a fifty-two year old South African woman who has been living in Scotland with her partner when he decides he wants out of the relationship. For twenty-five years, they lived an unconventional life. She is an academic who has made a choice to not have children. Yet, when she is called to return home to South Africa, she realizes her brother's son may need her. While she makes the trip to help her alcoholic brother, she tries to heal through the writing of her memoir. The reader makes a trip with her physically, to the land of her birth, and mentally, as she takes a trip through her tortured childhood.

This book brings up many questions about life, about the homes we leave and lost, about the people we become. Sometimes it takes 'going back' to validate the choices we made while sometimes solitude also helps us understand the magnitude of what we have overcome. Another thing the book put into perspective is that perhaps leaving is a way of letting go. One sibling could not leave and found himself frozen in anger, while another sibling left, moved on, accomplished, and still has the remains of a troubled past to haunt her. Come to think of it, maybe the book elucidates the idea that home never does leave you and if you are unlucky to have lived through trauma, it will always, somehow be there.

[Margitte · Rating 4 out of 5]

Scotland / South Africa.
I am not sure if this book is more biography than fiction or the other way around. There are many similarities between the protagonist's and the author's lives. As I am not sure what is fact and what is fiction, I will review it as a fictitious tale.

Mercy, or Mercia, is an English senior lecturer at a Scottish university. She left South Africa in the early Seventies to settle overseas after deciding to make a new life for herself away from the political-discriminatory establishment, as well as her personal family situation. After many years her father dies and her brother, a totally and too-far-gone alcoholic, writes her a letter and pleads with her to return home.

Her life partner, a Scottish poet, has just decided to leave her after many years of sharing a life outside marriage with no children born from the relationship. She never wanted children and regards herself as a feminist.

To clear up her own emotional turmoil, as well as life, she decides to take a break and return to the dusty, semi-arid village in the Namaqualand region for a holiday, where she grew up with her brother, taken care of by their father after their mother died many years earlier. What she encounters there, the poverty, the desperation, the neglect, as well as the intelligent ignored little boy(her brother's son), shocks and depresses her. Her brother pleads with her to take the child.

The tiresome, slow moving narrative provides an in-depth look into the life of the brother and sister; their bitter relationship with their abusive father; the situation in which the little boy was born; her 'snobbish' attitude towards her sister-in-law; her broken love affair with her ex-life partner and her confusion with her true identity.

After coming back and being suddenly thrust back into her past with all the emotions around the political as well as social memories of their world brought to life once again,she expects to feel the same as when she left, but too many changes occurred and the new experiences of her old world turns everything she held dearly as the truth upside down. What began as a social visit turned into a challenge in which she must navigate a new life for herself from it all. The little boy becomes a catalyst for the memories she kept locked away deep inside her. His innocence and trust in her unraffels the feelings of apathy and emotional arrest she so dearly cultivated to protect herself against a cruel South African political system and a new reality in Scotland which redefined her.

When she is finally ready for an emotional as well as geographical turning point, sure of her new direction, a family secret destroys everything she ever held sacred. She had to become a middle-aged woman before she finally could face her true reality. There is a heritage she cannot escape, responsibilities she never wanted, consequences to the choices she made.

The scenery in the book is excellently described. The protagonist's feelings are laid bare and dissected. For both international, as well as South African readers, the story will be both enchanting but equally heartbreaking. The Afrikaans words which is not explained in the narrative can easily be translated online. There are not too many of them. The words also do not interrupt the overall story and how everyone's life is interconnected with each other and nature. A fascinating experience!

There is such a wealth of emotions exposed in the book, so much human nature to discover as the reader becomes intimately involved with the characters as they develop and provide more colour and texture to the story. The reader is left with an insight into a multilayered true South African experience. Or rather, a glimpse into the world of a Colored family in a remote part of the country. It is not everyone's story. But it is an important as well as endearing one to share. I felt infinitely enriched by this book.

[Elyse Walters · Rating 5 out of 5]

“October”, …..a first read for me by Zoe Wicomb, (but won’t be my last), was a wonderful-reading-experience. And I do mean ‘experience’….
I’ll try to explain.
I not only enjoyed this story, the themes of ‘Home’….the poetic prose,— gorgeous sentences- and - (I must mention that a few graphic horrific visuals of animal brutality-descriptions were sensitivity written- honoring the traditional history), the family intimate geniality & frostiness,….very engaging family-storytelling….
but my goodness, I got an enjoyable education with Afrikaan language.

Afrikaans is a West Germanic language spoken in South Africa, Namibia. It evolved from the Dutch vernacular of Holland…. Spoken by the Dutch settlers in South Africa.

I took many ‘pauses’ with my reading to visit google ….looking up *Ai Togs*: Afrikaans translations to English.
I was treated with images of plants, animals, foods, proper names, adjectives, and speech encounters.
Here are a few of the words I spent extra time with:
Bokkie- a little buck or doe
Verandahless stoep- a place to cry
Smous- a peddler
Kaffirmelons - a very different taste than watermelon, but also a dessert.
Namaqua speech- not an easy word to say itself, but Namaqua comes from a death that lives in an area of South America.
Sousboontjies - sweet and sour beans in a sauce.
Plaasjapies- The term comes from African farm boys.
Aapstert- in Afrikaans language it’s called monkey tail.
Uilspieel- Afrikaan stories
Kloof - ravine or valley
Chincherinchee- A white flower - a Lily - that blooms in South Africa.
Kalkoentjies -another flower plant in Africa. (the images are extraordinary…soooo beautiful, I want one in my yard)
Tjienkerientjee- South African name
Drolletjies- Afrikaans for ‘Little Turds’.
Lodewyk- A Dutch and Afrikaans given name for Louis in English.
There are a dozen more….
But back to the novel of “October” …
…..[and it isn’t necessary to have looked up the words that I did, but for me it was part of my learning enjoyment]……
Zoe Wicomb writes- tells a story - exactly the way I love best. (no POV-alternating narrative), but rather combined conversational dialogue.
Truthfully it’s a page turner story. So don’t let those Afrikaan translations scare you away (even ‘with’ looking up vocabulary, it didn’t really add too much more reading time). I was ‘into’ the whole experience from which Zoe Wicomb created.

This is a family story. There was disturbing family history, troubling relationships with the immediate family…..loss and displacement, with the dominant theme to contemplate being ‘HOME’ (what, where, when, how, does ‘home’ factor into our lives.

Mercia Murray, protagonist, a South African woman was living in Scotland - Glasgow- for 26 years. Her partner, Craig left her.
She returns to South Africa, where she grew up in North Cape, where Mercia will meet endless amounts of strife.
Old memories return. Old hurts….while still dealing with fresh hurts.
Two very different lifestyles, two very different cultures. The author highlights both cultures well….fragile and brittle… I was quickly absorbed with the colorful characters.
Written with tenderness, and truth. REALLY A BEAUTIFUL NOVEL!!

Excerpts…..
“In the past Mercia has rushed off to escape the disappointing weather. Now the gardens in Glasgow compensate for staying put. With the enduring summer light comes wave after wave of bold effervescence, which anyone would prefer to drought-stricken Namaqualand. Mercia watches over the fading of glorious forget-me-not, the powdery fragrance of lilac, species after species of flowering rhododendron, and the trellises spangled like so many stars with clematis. She awaits the explosion of flame red poppies, the roses that will stay in bloom until the autumn. That is when she ought to be away, in the month of October, when the sadness ever treating light strikes”.

“Home, no more than a word, it’s meaning hollowed out by the termites of time, a shell carrying only the dull ache for the substance of the past. But living in another country, in a crazy era, Mercia it’s not ready for its collapse”.

“If nowadays ambition cannot accommodate the old notion of home, there has surely always been ambivalence, the impatience for something new, for moving on, across the world, whilst at the same time, at times, feeling the centripetal tug of the earth”.

“The thought of the Cape as Home brings an ambiguous shiver— The small town in Klein Namaqualand, Klipeand. Hardly more than a village. How could anyone want to live there? Why would anyone stay there? These are questions that Mercia too must ask, although in those parts the words live and stay are interchangeable. South Africans, having inherited the language from the Scots, speak of staying in a place when they mean living there. Which is to say that natives are not expected to move away from what is called home”.

“Nicky says that Auntie Mercy has brought this good, cool weather. He loves rain, and one day he’ll have a car so that he can watch at close range the water tumbling about on the glass, changing its mind. But his mother says that changing your mind is not something to be admired. You’ve got to stick with thanks. There’s no other way. Make your bed and lie in it”.

“Sylvie Felt a little guilty that they really should have slaughtered a sheep for Mercia’s visit. That was what one did in the past when people came from the city, from a far to stay.
It would be an entire day of getting things ready not wasting anything: The intestines cleaned in order to be stuffed a sausages. The colon clogged with that, dried for crackling fry; tripe and trotters scraped clean with a razor blade; and the soft meat hung out in the evening breeze to dry.
Then there were the delectable organs that could not be wind dried, liver, heart, kidneys, spleen, sweet breads, and for a special treat braised brains”.

“That night, with the water miles away, a full, lascivious moon stretched out on the sand, gazed up narcissistically, moonstruck, at itself, the light so bright that their shadows stretched before them”.

“October”…. was filled with moral quandaries…..and Zoe Wilcomb masterfully spins her tale to a searing conclusion.

A treasure!

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

"How the Old Ones would have danced around the strange word, home, poured into it their yearning for a break from the mud and wattle and hide shelters of hunter-gatherers who followed the herds, who muttered under the breath their supplications to the moon, who relied on the seasons to assuage the restlessness of the soul by moving on. Even before the word, there would surely have been old women who sucked their gums in despair and dreamt of living as staying, dreamt of seeds taking root in the earth, growing into ripeness, even as a headman announced the decision to decamp."

Wicomb brings us the story of Mercia Murray, a "woman of a certain age" who was raised in South Africa during Apartheid. Her mother is the daughter of missionaries, and her father, Nicholas, is a stern man who is determined that Mercia and her younger brother, Jake, will create better lives for themselves. To that end he tightly regulates their lives, beats them almost daily (often for sins that "they don't know about yet"), and forbids them from making friends around town. Their family is classified as "colored" vs. black. I admit (shamefully) that I didn't know much about the history of Africa before reading this book. It opened my eyes to the discrimination and stratification which occurred during the 20th century there, and the great impact it made on children born during that time period. "In Cape Town there are more Murrays, respectable brothers and sisters who have married well, which is to say spouses with good hair. If Nicholas's children long for company, for playmates, well there are cousins with whom they could correspond. The fact is that the children here in Kliprand do not wash their hands, he explains.

Mercia was taught that you carry home inside you, that it isn't defined by where you live. She begins to join activists in the last years of High school into college, then abandons South Africa all together to finish her schooling abroad in Scotland. There she meets Craig, falls in love, and stays in Scotland with her life partner for over 20 years (which brings us to the time when the story starts....all of the rest are memories brought up frequently throughout the book). Mercia has begun to think of Scotland as home, although she keeps in touch with her family in South Africa. But then Craig leaves her for another woman, and Jake sends a distraught letter begging Mercia to come home. So she returns--to Jake, his wife Sylvie, and their young child.

"So despite Jake, and Sylvie's horrible chatter, Mercia knows that this is home. There is a part of her, perhaps no more than insensate buttocks, that sinks into the comfortable familiarity of an old sofa. Which is nothing to do with three-legged cast-iron pots or roosterbrood; besides, the light slants onto the floor precisely as it does at the other end of the year in Glasgow--the world simply reversed. But here, is it not conceivable that Mercia could stretch out, boots and all, for a while at least, open her heart, let in the heat and light, and check to see how much of it has mended?"

But Mercia soon learns that she can't just swoop in and fix everything. Her brother Jake is fighting demons that are spiraling out of control, creating an uncertain future for Sylvie and their child. Mercia is drawn back into Jake's world, and forced to confront memories that have faded with time and distance. Can she help her family while still reeling from being "left" herself?

Bottom line: Wicomb writes excellent prose, and does a great job of setting the scene/mood for October . Her story is one that needs to be told. I love reading books that expand my knowledge of the world, and describe other cultures. In my humble opinion, the book came very close to 4 stars, but the pacing was quite slow, and then the ending felt quite abrupt. It's still a fairly short read though, and is well worth the time spent getting a glimpse into Mercia's experiences. Given 3.5 stars or a rating of "Very Good".

"The ready-made belief in time-will-heal is after all not to be scoffed at. One day, in its own time, the remnant scab too will depart, leave of its own accord, simply flake off unnoticed, and disappear, leaving in its place the shiny new skin. But Mercia cannot remember ever being caught out in that way. No, scabs are attention seekers. There is usually an eager itch that begs for a healing hand, even if it is premature, a false appeal. Thus the metaphor brings a warning : she must be careful in picking over their last months together. If she is committed to conscientious close reading there is also the danger of probing prematurely or too deeply for her own good. A woman of a certain age must be careful not to destroy herself."

[Penny de Vries · Rating 4 out of 5]

There are those that never leave the place of their childhood. Then there are those that cannot wait to escape from the place called home. The very idea of home is a fraught idea for many people. October explores the concept of home and belonging by asking what it is that makes one place home in favour of another. People who have mixed feelings about home often have very good reasons for their confused and contrary emotions. In the case of Mercia Murray, as with so many, this stems from childhood trauma.

Mercia is in her fifties and her partner of 22 years has recently left her. She grew up in a Coloured community in the small village of Kliprand in Namaqualand and moved to Scotland during apartheid after completing her degree, and lectures at a university in Glasgow.

While she is struggling with grief and trying to make sense of “the ready-made condition of having been left”, a passive state that renders her helpless, she simultaneously receives a book called Home, (which she devours in a night), and a “please-come-home “letter from her “bad egg” brother, Jake. He asks her to come and fetch his son, Nicky, as Mercia is all he has left. This is odd because Nicky has a mother and a father. She wonders if Jake is drinking again.

The parallels between her life with Jake and the story of siblings in the novel, Home, are striking, except Mercia and Jake’s story is set in a different continent, “a harsh land that makes its own demands on civility”. The references to this novel continue throughout. This reminds me of why I like reading; recognising thoughts and feelings that are similar to my own, written by an author who describes people in another place and time. I did not figure out if the book Home read by the protagonist was the Toni Morrison or the Marilynne Robinson; quotes from each book are included. This underscores the way books talk to each other. In addition, Mercia tries her hand at a memoir, a very different sort of writing from the academic writing to which she is more accustomed. She files it in a folder on her laptop labelled Home.

This examination of home and its necessary companion, childhood, leads to the theme of memories and its vagaries. In looking at her past, she knows there are aspects which she avoids thinking about; especially the troubled relationship between her brother, Jake, and their father, Nicholas. Jake has become a drunk and he hates his father with a bitter rage. Many of his self-sabotaging actions, as an adult, are deliberate acts of revenge against his father. He cannot forgive Nicholas for the regular beatings he inflicted upon Jake all his life. These beatings were indeed barbaric and the “aapstert” was used on both children, in case they had committed any sin. Every day! In the name of God! Yet Mercia also remembers some good times and she cannot understand why these memories are lost to Jake. She knows that guilt defined their childhood but also remembers some “golden days”.

Their father, Nicholas, or Meester, as he called himself when he moved to Kliprand, represents the tragedy of the Coloured people. Colonial masters bedding their slaves, exploiting the most vulnerable from their position of power, created them. Yet, ironically, instead of rejecting his abusive forebears, Meester is proud of his Scottish ancestry and sees himself as better than the ‘hotnos’ of Namaqualand. A society that is already stratified based on race is further stratified into “decent” Coloureds and the not so decent. Furthermore, he was influenced by the hell and damnation religion touted by the missionaries, which lacks elements of human kindness. All these factors create the monster that is Meester. He pulled himself up “by his bootstraps” and is determined his children will do the same.

Mercia goes home in her favourite month, October, a month she hates in Scotland. She finds the

“moderate heat comforting, and she does love the familiar view of grey-green scrub with flat-topped mountains looming blue in the distance. She loves that hot, red sand where ancient tortoises sit for days resting in the same scrap of shade as if the earth had not moved, or night had not fallen, tortoises whose purpose it would seem is to endure the passage of time.”

Coincidentally, I was visiting this area when I was reading the book and the descriptions are wonderfully accurate. The beauty of arid regions is so different from the accepted norms of what is beautiful.

When Mercia arrives home, she finds Jake is bed-ridden and is drinking himself to death. Mercia and Jake’s wife, Sylvie, are from completely different walks-of- life despite having grown up in the same little village. Mercia castigates herself for her snobbish attitude towards Sylvie but she simply cannot relate to her. Sylvie thinks Mercia is a “namby pamby woman”. Their many misunderstandings drive much of the tension in the novel. Each of their perspectives are presented from their own point of view, which challenges the reader’s perceptions. Sylvie is a very interesting character; she grew up in a poor household with three mothers. She did not know her father or which of the mothers, if any, is her biological mother. Mercia cannot get Jake to talk to her and explain what has happened so in the meantime she takes Nicky, the child for walks into the veld. Eventually Mercia confronts Jake and discovers the reason for Jake having taken to his bed. This changes everything.

October tells the story of a Coloured family; though the history of South Africa adds dimensions to this story that probably do not exist elsewhere, it is also a universal story of people marginalised by poverty who have a drive to improve themselves and wish to ensure that their children can lead better lives than they did. Yet, what makes this book special is its exploration of ideas of home as well as the recording of personal history that is very aware of the “presumption of knowing”. Despite exploring many varied themes, because these themes are inextricably linked, October is coherent and insightful. The way it illustrates the faultiness of memory while engaging the reader in the lives of its characters is wonderful.

[Tuck · Rating 5 out of 5]

wicomb is an interesting author, she's lived in scotland for many decades now, retired i think. this novel about a scottish professor who has to go 'home' to south africa, namaqualand, to see about her little brother and his wife and son, as brother is sick. turns out he is alcoholic and yes is sick, but also tormented.
so professor tries to take situation in hand to fix it, but she cannot, not really, as she simultaneously has shucked off her 'home' in south africa, her sanctimonious and brutal father, her meek mother, her ner do well drunken brother, her dysfunctional country, while too not becoming 'scottish', getting dumped by her boyfriend of decades, and living the exile of those who leave their rural stifling 'homes' to a more humanistic, sophisticated, and liberal bigger world.
it happens. but then, now, what does one do when family and home need you, but won;t accept you. either you are stuck up and fancy, or essentially a stranger, or you are 'rich' and 'holyier than though' and swoop in to 'fix' things, but not appreciated.
so this is what happens to our professor, mercia, one year in october. wicombs most profound and accessible novel to date. a masterpiece in many ways, plus has very affecting and evocative parts about the overberg and veld of namaqualand too.
the new press is one of the most exciting and interesting publishers going today http://thenewpress.com/

[Gabrielle · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 for me…on a personal note reading this has healed me and has been a beautiful journey and a pleasure to read. But there’s so much more that I didn’t expect to gain, and again, feels personal with respect to culture and politics…which I confronted, some of which I felt I was learning for the first time.

But this whole experience is facilitated by so many beautiful turns of phrase and passages upon passages that ought to be savoured and turned over again and again.

There’s so much more to say but this book is important for the culture…and it’s important to me. With and without sentiment, this is a special book and a beautiful read.

[Mary · Rating 3 out of 5]

Zoe is a very good writer. I was engrossed in the story once I got about 1/3 of the way through. It was slow reading because I had to really pay attention to what she was saying. Every sentence was thought out and captivating. I truly felt for the characters and would recommend it for those who don't mind sad stories. The underlying descriptions of her feeling hit home. I could relate. I am glad I won this Goodreads giveaway! Thank you.

[Jed · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the most under-rated writers I know about. Each sentence is perfect, deeply felt. This novel is a great place to start with Zoe Wicomb's work; it is the culmination of a life's work in pursuit of perfection of prose. In it, Wicomb investigates the idea of "home" as a South African expatriate. Plumbs the experience of living between worlds.

[Sue · Rating 5 out of 5]

A brilliant challenge to every paradigm of social and familial responsibility and any knowledge of "post apartheid South Africa" I can even try to claim. Intimate character development with a time shifting eloquent narration that draws, invites, and insists on attention and thought.

[Kendalyn · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a stunning first foray into South African literature. Every page had something that pierced me.

"The possibility of beauty beckoned at her. Like the night-she sang, drunk with poetry-that covers all defects in the mystery of darkness, she would walk in beauty, and keep fear at bay."

[Anathi · Rating 4 out of 5]

despite its one lull that i didn’t quite enjoy, this is one of the best novels i’ve read this year. the prose is THERE. the story & characters LIVE. pacing is so good. there is a way that Wicomb manages ro talk about the story of south africa as time moved from the late seventies to the middle and late nineties that makes the book so worth a read. my favourite part is how the charactersin this book, even the ones who do jot seem central to the story, play a vital role to the story, and a vividly potrayed as such: from the friends to the aunties; such that though there IS protagonist, she does not move in that light alone.

4/5.

find it. read it. excellent work by one of our best writers from south africa. a novel worth reading! 👏🏾🙌🏾

[Brittany · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautiful read, with diction and syntax that will stay with you for days -- but very slow moving.

Mid-life analysis of being torn in heart and place - between Scotland and South Africa -- between her family and reality, this tale begins and ends with the first line... "Mercia Murray is a woman of fifty-two years who has been left."
Left by her partner, and left by what she thought she knew of her family.

[Erin Christine]

I wanted to love this book. I was on the library weight list for weeks. I recently traveled to South Africa, so I was ready to love it.. And I loved the premise, but couldn't stay with the writing. The characters were not likable. This is the first book in years that I have given up on :/

[Patricia Geller · Rating 5 out of 5]

A morally complex book about a family growing up in Cape Town written by the grown daughter who left to live in Scotland. Explores issues of race, religion and mourning. I found it compelling and it offers a beautifulportrait of the land.

[Clare Grové · Rating 5 out of 5]

W is for Wicomb
2022 alphabet-of-african-authors

Magnificent writing.

I am flabbergasted that I had to discover Zoë Wicomb in an internet search of African authors. Her titles are not on the small shelf of local fiction in renowned, as well as smaller, book retailers. Yet once I discovered her and purchased e-book titles, I discovered her name in the acknowledgements of Season of Crimson Blossoms by another African author, Abubakar Adam Ibrahim. It was a sign - I had to read her. And she is brilliant!

October is poignant yet filled with hope. Mercia refuses to succumb to heartache, middle age and family secrets, while Sylvie refuses to relinquish her child despite her meagre existence and little, frugal life.

Read Zoë Wicomb.

[Linda · Rating 4 out of 5]

In many ways I found this book very difficult, the culture and language being so unfamiliar. The degree of emotions that it elicited as I continued to read, however, overwhelmed me. I found myself writing copious notes and thoughts: the effects of cultural misunderstandings, the insidious effects of European religion on other cultures, the meaning of home, the weight of family secrets, the scorn from one powerless group on another group it sees as weaker, the fallibility of parents, the subjugation to the colonizers. This one will be reread several times.

[Carmen Gee · Rating 3 out of 5]

'October' provides a unique snapshot into the lives of of a very specific South African demographic. It is quite slow for the first 3/4s but speeds up nicely toward the end. The book deals with themes of motherhood, home, heritage, and generational trauma. Great for those looking to expand their South African outlook.

[Maria do Socorro Baptista · Rating 3 out of 5]

Uma narrativa com muitas idas e voltas no tempo e no espaço. Muitas vezes fiquei confusa. Mas, ao final, pude entender que é um narrativa de violência, de dor, e de abuso, que colocam a protagonista em situações conflituosas. Não deixa de ser interessante.

[Li · Rating 3 out of 5]

Insanity. Beautiful writing and expressive language. I did struggle to properly start it (hence -1 star) die to the raw plot however once I got into it I couldn't put it down. Captures life and belonging, redefines what home really means.

[Maddy · Rating 3 out of 5]

A compelling enough plot, but the writing style really bothered me.

[Megan Doney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Such an interesting, beautifully written meditation on home, and belonging, and responsibility to self and others.

[Janie · Rating 2 out of 5]

“Mercia Murray is a woman of fifty-two years who has been left”, is the first sentence of this Goodreads Giveaway. She seems to miss her partner Craig but is not devastated by his loss, seemingly more sad about the disruption of the comfortable and familiar life as she knew it with him.
After living in Scotland for a number of years, 25 of which she spent with her partner she goes “home” to South Africa in response from a letter from her brother asking her to come home and hinting that he wants her to take his son. Once she arrives she finds her brother withdrawn, abusive to his wife and child and in the act of killing himself with alcohol. There are hints that her brother has killed their father whom he considered abusive and she seems to think was merely strict and acting under difficult circumstances.
The theme of home is an interesting one because she has been taught that Kliprand, where she grew up, was not her home and was taught to keep herself aloof from her peers. “In Glasgow, Mercia also insists on the distinction of between living and staying; she is only there temporarily; it cannot be her home.” The most evocative words that Wicomb writes are in describing the land she grew up in, “God’s own country, mythopoetic home of wholesomeness, home to kalkoentjies bursting blood red into a new vernal world, home of healthy, simple pleasures seasoned with the plentiful salt of this earth.” But she, like her father, seems to believe “the idea of home is overvalued.”
She looks down on her brother’s wife, has virtually no contact with her brother while she is living in his home. She has never wanted children and while she thinks that her brother and even perhaps his wife, wants her to take their child to, she isn’t sure how she feels about that. She takes a few nature walks with the boy and tries to get to know him but it never seems that she really connects with him She seems to keep herself very distant from everyone.
I never felt that I really got to know Mercia or any of the other protagonists of this book. I felt no connection with anyone in this book. The story should have been more interesting than it was. I’m wondering if it was because of the detachment that I felt throughout this book.

[Susan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mercia comes home to South Africa after spending 24 years in Scotland and she comes in the month of October, escaping the chill of the north for the month of new blossoms in her homeland. She strives to apply this metaphor to her homecoming but finds it lacking. The tale is a variation on the theme "you can't go home again" but in this case the fall of apartheid definitely had its impact-- yet it is told psychologically, in its personal impact on the lives of Mercia and her childhood community, not historically.

This is the first novel of Wicomb's I have read and it makes me want to read more. The writing is beautifully crafted. I was glad when the tale shifted from Mercia's to Sylvie's point of view and then back again. Each of these women grew up in different types of families, each lacking true nurturing, and dominated by strong parental figures. They are connected through Mercia's father and brother.

I gave it three stars, not four, due to the very slow pace. Also Mercia's thoughts always spiral back to her recently lost partner; through repetition it seems like she is obsessed with him but never really understood him, nor he, her. I would rather have had less of her internal struggles and more about her relationship with her brother.

[World Literature Today]

"October is a clever novel, well written with identifiable characters, recognizable plotlines, and an open-ended conclusion. Wicomb offers an intriguing look at what sometimes happens to people in the twilight of their lives." - Janet Mary Livesey, University of Oklahoma

This book was reviewed in the September 2014 issue of World Literature Today. Read the full review by visiting our website: http://bit.ly/1vCaUet

[Andrea · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've never read any fiction set in pre- and post-apartheid South Africa, and from this standpoint, I really liked this book. It took me awhile to understand what was going on with the various characters and I think that is why this is a 3 start instead of a 4 star for me. But the writing was powerful and the protagonist was complicated and interesting, so it was overall a good read.

[Rebecca · Rating 3 out of 5]

I admired the writing in October, but the story moved slowly. I wrote a full review on Bustle: In Zoe Wicomb's October, Returning to South Africa is "a Tricky Notion, Teeming with Thorns."

[Carla · Rating 2 out of 5]

Perhaps one of the oddest books I've encountered in a very very long time. The editorial reviews and synopsis of the book sounded outstanding! I found it disjointed, uninteresting, and it jumped around all over. So disappointed!

[Rebecca]

Meh. Just didn't grab me. Not interesting enough to finish.

[Pamela · Rating 2 out of 5]

Just couldn't get into this. Very slow...