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252 pages, Kindle Edition
Published June 14, 2017
I checked out this essay collection from the university library after writing my last exam.
In first year, a tutor told me that Hedley Twidle’s advice for essay writing was to avoid trying to sound “wise”. In Firepool, he manages to do this by writing in a way that is clearly considered, not overly academic, and grounded in experience. As he says:
One way of understanding the personal essay is as a form that allows the writer to give not only her or his thoughts but also a narrative of how she or he came by them.
The reader is taken on a journey, sometimes alongside the N2 or on the Otter Trail, of how Twidle came to discover some things. Because of this, the essays are inflected with personality, which, I think, is what kept me interested in topics that might usually go over my head.
“Twenty-Seven Years”, about pianist and composer Moses Taiwa Molelekwa, is probably the most skilful essay in the collection. I am no musician, nor a serious music-listener. But, while grappling with how to write about music, Twidle manages to keep the uninitiated on board. There is a kind of rhythm, a pattern, to it. Certain phrases set us off on one train of thought, we learn a little about Molelekwa’s life or what was said about him, his influences. The phrases repeat and spark new trains. Autobiographical details of Twidle’s upbringing, how South Africa shaped his experience of music, weave in. Other artists make appearances.
The details of Molelekwa’s death add a haunting discordant note, as predicted, to what has largely been a composition of majors, albeit used to speak about a difficult environment – characteristic of South African jazz. Then, fittingly, but unsatisfyingly, the essay is concluded with the same problem: Molelekwa’s question of how music can be possibly be described in writing.
The connections Twidle draws are another strong point. He moves from EFF disrupting parliamentary proceedings in the past few years, to the assassination of Verwoerd in 1966 by Demitrios Tsafendas. Tsafendas is one of the more enigmatic figures in South African history. He is also one of the people who, as Twidle discusses, make you think about what kind of behaviour is really abnormal in an abnormal society.
The titular “Firepool” awaits us as the final chapter. It kept reminding me of a short story, “The Swimmer”, by John Cheever. It was probably the first thing I was required to write an essay on at university. And it was Twidle who lectured on it and gave us the assignment. However, instead of swimming through the pools in aristocrats’ backyards, he dips into municipal and tidal pools, as a momentary, not-quite respite from the fires (literal and political) that started burning a few years ago around UCT.
Twidle says that he envies today’s students who “are living through interesting times”. I have to admit, I never really thought that way about the protests while they were happening. I mainly felt as if I was in over my head, and rather than learning to swim, I just, perhaps selfishly, wanted to get out. I should probably have sooner accepted the feeling of not knowing what to do or think as a given in an abnormal world.
Uncertainty and the process of learning are experiences (I won’t say themes), which emerge frequently in the collection. I’m glad that I checked it out. It’s written well and carefully researched. The inter-textual references, particularly in “Nuclear Summer”, have given me some future reading material to help with the English major hangover I’m currently nursing.