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Ill at ease: A border war novel
332 pages, Paperback
Published April 10, 2025
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
August 27, 2025
I enjoy reading biographies, but this one touched me in a different way. It is not a light reflection on the past, but a raw account of military conscription as the author experienced it—filled with discomfort, longing, a desire to begin a career of his own choosing, and a constant inner struggle because so much clashed with who he truly was. The reality of life on the home front is often highlighted and serves as a reminder. It makes the reader reflect, perhaps more deeply than before.
The underlying tone is a testimony to how profoundly this experience affected the conscript. It reminds us that conscription did not bring only discipline and camaraderie, but often trauma and a sense of alienation from oneself. Amid the heavy moments, I could appreciate the humour with which he tells certain anecdotes. I even held my breath during the description of an attack on a base, and shared in the disappointment when a much-anticipated trip to the States was either impossible or postponed. It is clear that the author writes from both lived experience and thorough research; the descriptions are so vivid you can almost taste the dust of the parade ground and feel the tension in your own body.
What strikes most is the author’s honesty. This memoir brings to life the reality of conscription and the broader context of that difficult era. It prompts reflection on the sacrifices, the injustices, and the human side of a history that must not be forgotten.
Readers interested in military biographies, South African history, or character-driven storytelling will find much to appreciate in this book.
In short: an impressive, honest, and gripping biography that lingers long after the last page.
The underlying tone is a testimony to how profoundly this experience affected the conscript. It reminds us that conscription did not bring only discipline and camaraderie, but often trauma and a sense of alienation from oneself. Amid the heavy moments, I could appreciate the humour with which he tells certain anecdotes. I even held my breath during the description of an attack on a base, and shared in the disappointment when a much-anticipated trip to the States was either impossible or postponed. It is clear that the author writes from both lived experience and thorough research; the descriptions are so vivid you can almost taste the dust of the parade ground and feel the tension in your own body.
What strikes most is the author’s honesty. This memoir brings to life the reality of conscription and the broader context of that difficult era. It prompts reflection on the sacrifices, the injustices, and the human side of a history that must not be forgotten.
Readers interested in military biographies, South African history, or character-driven storytelling will find much to appreciate in this book.
In short: an impressive, honest, and gripping biography that lingers long after the last page.
May 27, 2025
Book Review: Ill at Ease by Francois Verster
Reading Ill at Ease was not simply an encounter with a text—it was an emotional reckoning. Francois Verster crafts a narrative that is both haunting and unflinchingly honest, and reading it felt like sitting in a dimly lit room with someone who has stripped away every mask, willing to bleed on the page for the sake of truth. It’s rare to find a work that doesn’t just describe discomfort, but embodies it, and I felt that deeply.
The title itself—Ill at Ease—is an immediate invitation into a kind of emotional dissonance, a psychological unrest that hovers over every paragraph. Verster doesn’t offer comfort, nor does he seem particularly interested in resolution. Instead, he lays out a psychological and social terrain that is raw and fractured, mirroring not only personal anguish but also the wider societal malaise that clings to the South African landscape. This is a book that sits in the wounds, not above them.
From a stylistic perspective, Verster’s work is simultaneously lyrical and restrained. There’s a cinematic quality to his descriptions, but never a sense of overindulgence. His words move with intention, yet they are drenched in atmosphere. There were moments when I found myself rereading entire pages just to linger in the cadence of the sentences—beautiful, yes, but burdened. Every word feels like it has been fought for, or perhaps against.
What struck me most was the sheer intimacy of the work. Whether Verster is writing about personal trauma, political unrest, or the tensions between history and identity, he does so with a kind of emotional nakedness that’s rare. He doesn’t protect the reader from his vulnerabilities—instead, he makes us sit with them. That’s not an easy thing to experience. I found myself unsettled, even shaken, at various points. But in that discomfort, there was also a strange kind of healing. It reminded me that being ill at ease is often the first step to understanding something more profound about ourselves and the world around us.
There is a strong socio-political undercurrent throughout the work. Verster doesn’t isolate the personal from the political—how could he, in a country still grappling with the ghosts of apartheid, violence, inequality, and the frayed edges of identity? But what’s remarkable is that the political commentary never feels didactic. It’s embedded in the very texture of the personal stories he tells. He shows, rather than tells, how systems corrode individuals from the inside out.
This isn’t a book I would recommend lightly—not because it isn’t brilliant (it absolutely is), but because it demands something from its reader. It demands presence, reflection, and a willingness to sit with discomfort. And yet, when I closed the final page, I felt altered. Not uplifted, necessarily—but more attuned to the emotional undercurrents I too often ignore. In a world that prizes resolution and clarity, Ill at Ease is a necessary disruption. It taught me that sometimes, staying in the question is more honest than rushing toward the answer.
Available at Stellenbosch books, francoisverster2022@gmail.com, Amazon, Kobo, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords.
Reading Ill at Ease was not simply an encounter with a text—it was an emotional reckoning. Francois Verster crafts a narrative that is both haunting and unflinchingly honest, and reading it felt like sitting in a dimly lit room with someone who has stripped away every mask, willing to bleed on the page for the sake of truth. It’s rare to find a work that doesn’t just describe discomfort, but embodies it, and I felt that deeply.
The title itself—Ill at Ease—is an immediate invitation into a kind of emotional dissonance, a psychological unrest that hovers over every paragraph. Verster doesn’t offer comfort, nor does he seem particularly interested in resolution. Instead, he lays out a psychological and social terrain that is raw and fractured, mirroring not only personal anguish but also the wider societal malaise that clings to the South African landscape. This is a book that sits in the wounds, not above them.
From a stylistic perspective, Verster’s work is simultaneously lyrical and restrained. There’s a cinematic quality to his descriptions, but never a sense of overindulgence. His words move with intention, yet they are drenched in atmosphere. There were moments when I found myself rereading entire pages just to linger in the cadence of the sentences—beautiful, yes, but burdened. Every word feels like it has been fought for, or perhaps against.
What struck me most was the sheer intimacy of the work. Whether Verster is writing about personal trauma, political unrest, or the tensions between history and identity, he does so with a kind of emotional nakedness that’s rare. He doesn’t protect the reader from his vulnerabilities—instead, he makes us sit with them. That’s not an easy thing to experience. I found myself unsettled, even shaken, at various points. But in that discomfort, there was also a strange kind of healing. It reminded me that being ill at ease is often the first step to understanding something more profound about ourselves and the world around us.
There is a strong socio-political undercurrent throughout the work. Verster doesn’t isolate the personal from the political—how could he, in a country still grappling with the ghosts of apartheid, violence, inequality, and the frayed edges of identity? But what’s remarkable is that the political commentary never feels didactic. It’s embedded in the very texture of the personal stories he tells. He shows, rather than tells, how systems corrode individuals from the inside out.
This isn’t a book I would recommend lightly—not because it isn’t brilliant (it absolutely is), but because it demands something from its reader. It demands presence, reflection, and a willingness to sit with discomfort. And yet, when I closed the final page, I felt altered. Not uplifted, necessarily—but more attuned to the emotional undercurrents I too often ignore. In a world that prizes resolution and clarity, Ill at Ease is a necessary disruption. It taught me that sometimes, staying in the question is more honest than rushing toward the answer.
Available at Stellenbosch books, francoisverster2022@gmail.com, Amazon, Kobo, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords.
July 22, 2025
Ill at Ease
Pick up a book on South Africa’s Border War (1966–1989), and you’d be forgiven for expecting the usual fare: gunfire, bloodshed, bravery, and loss. But Ill at Ease: A Border War Novel by Francois Verster takes a different path.
This is a story not about battles, but about the tedium of war – the slow, grinding absurdity of military life seen through the eyes of someone who despised it. Verster, compelled to serve in the army, spent nearly two years at Omega Base in the Caprivi, teaching the children of the San soldiers. It had its own strange ‘battlefield’: petty regulations, overbearing officers, and eccentric fellow teachers.
Threaded through the narrative are flashes of humour – testosterone-fuelled antics that punctuate the tedium. But this isn’t a nostalgic look back. Verster writes from the gut, unsparingly honest, often self-deprecating, and unafraid to lay bare his discomfort, resentment, and ambivalence.
The title, Ill at Ease, couldn’t be more apt. The irony is sharp and ever-present. And in a genre so often dominated by the roar of combat, Verster gives voice to the disillusionment of men who felt deeply out of place in a war not of their choosing. The forgotten casualties.
Pick up a book on South Africa’s Border War (1966–1989), and you’d be forgiven for expecting the usual fare: gunfire, bloodshed, bravery, and loss. But Ill at Ease: A Border War Novel by Francois Verster takes a different path.
This is a story not about battles, but about the tedium of war – the slow, grinding absurdity of military life seen through the eyes of someone who despised it. Verster, compelled to serve in the army, spent nearly two years at Omega Base in the Caprivi, teaching the children of the San soldiers. It had its own strange ‘battlefield’: petty regulations, overbearing officers, and eccentric fellow teachers.
Threaded through the narrative are flashes of humour – testosterone-fuelled antics that punctuate the tedium. But this isn’t a nostalgic look back. Verster writes from the gut, unsparingly honest, often self-deprecating, and unafraid to lay bare his discomfort, resentment, and ambivalence.
The title, Ill at Ease, couldn’t be more apt. The irony is sharp and ever-present. And in a genre so often dominated by the roar of combat, Verster gives voice to the disillusionment of men who felt deeply out of place in a war not of their choosing. The forgotten casualties.
July 11, 2025
As someone who also completed my national service in the South African Defence Force in 1984, I thoroughly enjoyed reading Ill at Ease. I believe the book to be an accurate and honest reflection of the typical experience of the national serviceman during their two years of national service , with no sugar coating. After reading the book, I find myself often remembering my own experiences in the Defence Force and often wonder what happened to many of the friends I have made during this time. I also found the contextualisation of the author's experiences in terms of the historical and current political landscape in South Africa very insightful.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews