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Imitation
Imitation happened when an unsuspecting philosopher one day found himself equally outraged by South African president Jacob Zuma’s Big Man building project in Nkandla; awed, all over again, by Milan Kundera’s Immortality; and numbed by the monument to hubris generally known as ‘the highest basilica in all of Christendom’, Our Lady of Peace in Yamoussoukro, Cote d’Ivoire.
‘Imitation is a strikingly original work of great subtlety, complexity, imagination, originality, and a clear homage to Milan Kundera’s Immortality. I have never read a novel quite like this.’ – JASON M. WIRTH, Commiserating with Devastated Things: Milan Kundera and the Entitlements of Thinking
‘Imitation is challenging, ambitious and intelligent. It is a fascinating and adventurous parallel to Immortality that is intriguingly and playfully managed; an impressive and carefully considered novel that takes some of Milan Kundera’s most enigmatic thoughts and modernises them.’ – ANDREW BROWN, 2006 recipient of the Sunday Times Fiction Prize for Coldsleep Lullaby
‘With stylistic virtuosity, Praeg successfully enacts the tempestuous relationship between philosophy and fiction while elegantly and eloquently exploring the relationship between coloniser and colonised subjects. It is a brilliant, sparkling novel that heralds a very thoughtful, new voice on the South African literary scene.’ – SAM NAIDU, Associate Professor of Literary Theory, World Literatures, and English Literature, Rhodes University
‘Imitation is a strikingly original work of great subtlety, complexity, imagination, originality, and a clear homage to Milan Kundera’s Immortality. I have never read a novel quite like this.’ – JASON M. WIRTH, Commiserating with Devastated Things: Milan Kundera and the Entitlements of Thinking
‘Imitation is challenging, ambitious and intelligent. It is a fascinating and adventurous parallel to Immortality that is intriguingly and playfully managed; an impressive and carefully considered novel that takes some of Milan Kundera’s most enigmatic thoughts and modernises them.’ – ANDREW BROWN, 2006 recipient of the Sunday Times Fiction Prize for Coldsleep Lullaby
‘With stylistic virtuosity, Praeg successfully enacts the tempestuous relationship between philosophy and fiction while elegantly and eloquently exploring the relationship between coloniser and colonised subjects. It is a brilliant, sparkling novel that heralds a very thoughtful, new voice on the South African literary scene.’ – SAM NAIDU, Associate Professor of Literary Theory, World Literatures, and English Literature, Rhodes University
312 pages, Paperback
First published October 9, 2017
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January 3, 2018˜'It's a good time of the year,' he had continued before I could think of a comeback I had not used before, 'with a bit of luck you should be able to live off the vegetable garden.'˜
˜Real writing, the kind of writing that allows you to begin or end a philosophical exploration, only happens when you can trust, really trust, that you will not be interrupted by anyone or anything.˜
˜What was the story behind this banal expression of power, Paul wondered, the first time he saw the architectural blueprints for the proposed basilica. Who was this African president who, in an apparently simple act of faith and magnanimity, managed to combine the very essence of power – imitation, competition and the pretence of humility – in one simple gesture of ressentiment?˜
˜If any writer did what the architect of Our Lady of Peace did, he or she would be accused of plagiarism. Yet, the worst it got for the architect of Our Lady was people saying things like: 'Ah, it looks just like St Peter's.'˜
˜The more technical and mechanical, cold and metallic [the world] becomes, the more it will need the kind of warmth that only the woman can give it. If we want to save the world...we must adapt to the woman, let ourselves be led by the woman, let ourselves be penetrated by the Ewigweibliche, the eternally feminie!˜
˜The first time she waved to me like that was when I took her to the maternity ward. She had gone through two operations earlier, hoping to have a baby. We were all scared when the time came. To save me worry she forbade me to go inside the hospital. I stood by the car and she walked alone to the entrance...˜
˜Real writing, the kind of writing that allows you to begin or end a philosophical exploration, only happens when you can trust, really trust, that you will not be interrupted by anyone or anything.˜
˜What was the story behind this banal expression of power, Paul wondered, the first time he saw the architectural blueprints for the proposed basilica. Who was this African president who, in an apparently simple act of faith and magnanimity, managed to combine the very essence of power – imitation, competition and the pretence of humility – in one simple gesture of ressentiment?˜
˜If any writer did what the architect of Our Lady of Peace did, he or she would be accused of plagiarism. Yet, the worst it got for the architect of Our Lady was people saying things like: 'Ah, it looks just like St Peter's.'˜
˜The more technical and mechanical, cold and metallic [the world] becomes, the more it will need the kind of warmth that only the woman can give it. If we want to save the world...we must adapt to the woman, let ourselves be led by the woman, let ourselves be penetrated by the Ewigweibliche, the eternally feminie!˜
˜The first time she waved to me like that was when I took her to the maternity ward. She had gone through two operations earlier, hoping to have a baby. We were all scared when the time came. To save me worry she forbade me to go inside the hospital. I stood by the car and she walked alone to the entrance...˜
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