Innards: Stories

by Magogodi oaMphela Makhene

This incendiary debut of linked stories narrates the everyday lives of Soweto residents, from the early years of apartheid to its dissolution and beyond. Set in Soweto, the urban heartbeat of South Africa, Innards tells the intimate stories of everyday black folks processing the savagery of apartheid with grit, wit, and their own distinctive bewildering humor. Rich with the thrilling textures of township language and life, it braids the voices and perspectives of an indelible cast of characters into a breathtaking collection flush with forgiveness, rage, ugliness, and beauty. Meet a fake PhD and ex-freedom fighter who remains unbothered by his own duplicity, a girl who goes mute after stumbling upon a burning body, twin siblings nursing a scorching feud, and a woman unraveling under the weight of a brutal encounter with the police. At the heart of these stories about deceit and ambition, appalling violence, familial turmoil, and love is South Africa’s history of slavery, colonization, and apartheid. Like many Americans today, Innards ’ characters must navigate the shadows of the recent past alongside the uncertain opportunities of the promised land. Full to bursting with life, in all its complexities and vagaries, Innards is an uncompromising depiction of black South Africa. Visceral and tender, it heralds the arrival of a major new voice in contemporary fiction.

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction, Africa, South Africa, Historical Fiction, Contemporary, Race

224 pages, Hardcover

First published June 6, 2023

Reviews

[♑︎♑︎♑︎ ♑︎♑︎♑︎ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Makhene made me want this book to be longer than it is. This is immersive and extraordinary writing. What a gift. These stories are intensely sensuous, every one of my senses was firing, the smells, the sounds, the way things look in a particular slant of sun. What I adore about this language and these stories is the way the language is so foreign to me. Here is a book originally written in an English wholly unfamiliar to me, a language that zips and sings and doesn't care whether it challenges my American-English ear or not, and Makhene even drops in some Afrikaans, when the mood suits her, or the story warrants it, of course she does, because everyone in her native country knows at least some Afrikaans.

I come to this novel as a spectator. I love that this book was not written for me. I love that it is written originally in English, but not my English. Far from it. This is a foreign, gorgeous form of English. Wonderful.

[Jacqueline Nyathi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Innards, synonyms: entrails, guts, intestines, viscera, vital organs. The inner parts.

There’s a touch of the fever dream in the stories collected in Innards. Many of them are in the form of a stream-of-consciousness, the characters relating, remembering, or rambling. A few of the narrators are unreliable, humans impacted by poverty, trauma, war, oppression—from Apartheid, and otherwise. Some characters are recurring, or referenced in linked stories. One narrator is a house, and becomes a character in a different story. And I loved the wonderful stories narrated in dialect by children.

In this collection, oaMphela Makhene lays bare the ugly, steaming viscera of lives. There is little that is pretty, or light. This is the grim stuff that most people would rather not see, the stuff we try to get away from. It’s the plumbing, the sewers, the gritty and grimy parts of life.

And yet, in that grimness is the unmistakable ring of reality. The big woman with a get-rich-quick scheme in the township turns out to be beholden to even bigger people. The fake freedom fighter turns into a fake PhD. An irascible old patriarch dies at the age of 106, causing ripples in the lives of many. People are displaced. Children die. In one story with a sci-fi element, a former fighter in the South African Border War against Namibia (Namibia’s War of Independence), the author so thoroughly inhabits the psyche of the character, it feels otherworldly.

Innards are sometimes considered food of the poor, but in southern Africa, they are a delicacy. This is what this collection is: the author exposing and giving voice to society’s insides, and also—when you’re not thinking too deeply about it—delivering juicy, tasty morsels of story. While Innards is quite unsettling, it is because the prose draws you into its maw, threatening to swallow you. This collection is grounded in place, the South Africa at the edges of what many of us see.

Magogodi oaMphela Makhene is a fantastic writer, one gifted with the power of making words sing. Innards disturbs and delights in equal measure.

Thank you to W. W. Norton & Company and to Edelweiss for the DRC.

[Jax · Rating 5 out of 5]

Magogodi oaMphela Makhene’s wonderfully fresh and unique style is an absolute delight. Narration is forthright, unforgiving, intense. It tugs readers into the story as a silent cast member, equally afflicted. The dialogue, filled with honesty and heart, pops and crackles across the page. There is a fresh cadence to each story, a tweak that gives each its own energy. Makhene plays with point of view, opening with a house telling its story. After that, we are so tightly tucked in, we cannot help but follow through.

Makhene will expose the rapacity of colonialism and apartheid in this novel, laying bare the savagery and barbarism from on the ground. Families moved in cattle lorries to a barren field bordered by municipal sewage farms, crammed in tiny, dirt-floored homes. Excrement that runs in the streets when it rains and the rot of a rabid dog tossed against a front door will befoul our nostrils, clench our stomachs. We are plugged into the frenzied and disoriented mind of the tortured. Images flashing, smothering perceptions that cause us to breath deeply as we feel the bag over our own heads. We meet a grandfather whose ancestors could conjure rain for Zimbabwe’s royal crops by chanting the clan’s praise name making his living on a rusty bike selling animal waste, innards that no one else wants.

Makhene will need her reader to approach this book with patience, as many of us will stumble on the venacular. It was often a challenge to follow the conversation, but this does not stop me from rating this book as it should be rated. If we invest in Makhene, she will reward us.

Thank you to W.W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for providing this eARC.

[TEMI]

Hardest read of the year (not emotionally). Probably the most challenging one I've read so far in my little JOURNEY to diversify my taste. That's not negative though, it's actually pretty cool and it's been a while since I came across a language register that I struggled to keep up with. I already don't know a lot of media coming out of South Africa but woah. I assume just because of the publisher this was put together for a mainly American audience but it's genuinely really cool that she never told you if this phrase/word/slang/entire sentence was Afrikaans, Sotho, Setswana, or some other couple languages that I probably didn't catch onto. There's no italicized words to signal to the reader that these are not (standard, American) English, no gloss or index at the end to baby us through this book. And that is so cool to me, like actually. Like of course I will google "bliksem afrikaans meaning" for the 14th time, yes ma'am! Sorry to be a dweeb about it but my biggest takeaway from this was just linguistic! Linguistics!!!11!

I had such a weird experience with this one. I already have like ... sort of bad reading comprehension and half of me feels like I had no idea what was going on in any of these stories but I also found these stories very easy to visualize????????? So I'm led to assume Magogodi is a really good writer. There's certain stories I would frown at and I wouldn't know why exactly I was frowning. Definitely wanna reread this in a couple years though

[endrju · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've got a case of it's-not-the-book-it's-me with this one. I immensely appreciated the style bringing sensorial immediacy to the (post)apartheid experience that is often disorienting to both the reader and the characters populating the stories. However, much of the meaning behind the immediacy was lost on me as a reader, as I'm familiar with the history of that part of the world only in broad strokes. There's much to be admired in this collection, but unfortunately my reading experience was limited by the lack of knowledge. And that lack is also something that the book is forcing me to face as a European (though one removed from European colonial histories) and very directly at that, as the author does not spend her time explaining anything or making it easy for the reader.

[johnny ♡ · Rating 5 out of 5]

“innards” by magogodi aomphela makhene is a collection of beautifully written short stories about black lives in south africa. not only did i learn a lot about apartheid and the oppression and murder of black people in this county, but i was struck by the way makhene writes about her culture so vividly. from food, to clothes, to ways of thinking, “innards” has it all. offals are often looked down upon as the parts of animal no one wants to eat, but makhene weaves them into her stories in such a way that they seem inseparable from her culture.

the prose is beautiful, at times very poetic, and the stories are heartbreaking. her characters are extremely real and well developed. each and every one of these stories shocked and enlightened me on what life is truly like for black folks in south africa and how dangerous it is for people to simply exist whilst black. this collection is extremely noteworthy, and i urge you all to read it when it is published.

happy black history month!

thank you to netgalley and the publisher for this arc in exchange for an honest review!

[Elle · Rating 5 out of 5]

At the end of this, I might be crying because it's over and the writing was so eloquent and felt so raw and authentic and unbound by rules. Or I am probably crying because some of these stories are sad. Apartheid stories are probably supposed to be sad, at least for those who have been pushed to the periphery and sometimes over the edge. Yet, the author manages to capture her characters in the fullness of their lives — they love, they laugh, they fight, they are human. But I am mostly crying because the product that is this book is such a beautiful offering to the author's family and it caught me completely off guard:

How to thank my family? By writing a book that tries to mimic the explosive belly laughing, eye-rolling and heart-feasting I know because of you. People mistakenly think apartheid is our whole story. That overcoming it is our triumph. They don't realize how far our jokes, joy, resilience, side-eyes, phat asses, raw beauty, and humanity stretch — from time immemorial and way yonder, into the unbound eternal.

[Alan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Took me a while to read these brilliant stories of South Africa (in particular Soweto) during apartheid and after (and before - the Boer War features), mainly because there are no concessions made to the 'general' reader: quite rightly. I had to read every story, every paragraph twice (and more), opening up my laptop to track down events and dialect and unusual words - haruspex anyone? Tachyons? Gatvol? Sjambok? It was worth it as the stories sliced into the communities depicted with skill and compassion. Along with horrific torture, rape and discrimination there was much comedy and fun to be had - eg an escaped bull, the pompousness of officials. Some soaring, beautiful writing. Fantastic stuff if you’re prepared for a sometimes difficult ride…

[Peyton · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I know now why Jappie cut deeper than diamonds, why the sheen of that word—slave—had all the dull brilliance of a rough coveted stone mired in dirt: because it's true. We were slaves. No better than them. Maybe even worse. After he said this, I was angry. But really, I was angry with myself. What else did I believe that was premised on a lie? That one simple truth shattered me open. I couldn't go back to pretending. I started to see things for what they really were."

[Mbali (flowahh_) · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5’ish

[Wendy Cosin]

I am not rating this book of stories because I stopped reading after 2 1/2 stories. I liked the first two stories very much. I was very moved by the second one.

I put the book down because I don’t feel like I have the energy to focus on a book with so much unfamiliar language. I hope I will give it another shot in the future.

[Adrian Burger · Rating 4 out of 5]

strong 4! great collection of short stories about apartheid-era south africa, specifically soweto, a suburb of johannesburg (which happens to be my birthplace although i've lived nearly my whole life in canada, so i did feel an extra affinity towards this work!)

some gorgeous, knock-your-socks-off moments interspersed throughout, and interestingly, totally different styles of narration and writing from story to story

some fave excerpts:

"There, I wait with my kin. We are unhistoried, unpeopled people. We listen for the return of sixty million buffalo hooves. Brave beasts, the buffalo-stomping, stampeding, storming. Drumfire in the herd's roar, raising thunder into dust, fogging earth at cloven feet.
I stand on the plain, but the royal beasts charge beyond dreamscape. I see my own shadow leave me, falling in with the herd. It runs, chases the wild beasts into the untrodden beyond, dances itself into something volcanic. But the wind, rodeo-riding the buffalos' buoy, the wind rises and snuffs my shadow out."

"The blue of the water was a bright electric hue. It made sounds: clapping rain sounds, trickling ice sounds, running water; water running... rushing in cold waves and against river rhythm.
Splash! Spumes exploded. Spit spray. Water breaking on the ceiling shore. The waves blocking out cries from the hose welting rubber into her back, hoarse shouting rattling something free deep inside her ear. The water blocked out the barking. Six policemen with toad screams and erect dog ears howling right into her ears, shooting spittle straight inside.."

[Maniki_021 · Rating 3 out of 5]

It was an okay read—a collection of short stories, though one was much longer than the rest. Personally, I feel a short story shouldn’t be that lengthy.

My favorites were :

Black christmas
Bua
The caretaker
7678B Chris Hani Road
Star - colored tears
Jesus owes me money

“Everyone claims ancestral royalty . Even slaves . No one imagines their beginning damned or marred by mediocrity.”

“Christmas was bulldozed. Only the birds weren’t told. They still fly , very bold. Landing like soldiers: everywhere. They are no darkie or mosweo.”

“The morning the old man died, his firstborn heard him rise early. Said she could hear his mattress slump, fatigued. It was his heart that did him.”

“He knew so many things about the heart . He knew the shape and smell of the organ lying in a cardboard Mxm at the slaughterhouse.”

“We knew 7678B had taken up with the devil. Mara, Jirre! Even baloi ba tshiritshiri couldn’t be blamed for the kind of bad blooded bedevilment that came over Boytjie & Barnabas”

“It took three weeks for Gwaza to disintegrate. Even after he was gone, his smell carried in a thick veil of flies.”

[Gloria · Rating 4 out of 5]

Powerful Debut
I am glad I read "Innards" by debut author Magogodi oaMphela Makhene (thank you to Bookbrowse for introducing me to this work of fiction!) This collection of twelve stories captures a country and history I am not familiar with other than some very brief mentions in long-ago history classes. Makhene is a gifted writer, weaving words and descriptions to evoke a culture and traditions and creating empathy for a people and civilization different in many ways from my own, but also similar in the basic human aspirations of survival and love and family and hope and humor (though I appreciate and acknowledge the humor within, I must admit it is unique and didn't actually make me laugh-but it is an integral part of the strength of the stories that all humans find joy where they can.)

Soweto, South Africa is the setting for the characters that interconnect throughout the stories. They are brutally subjugated by those in power and their extreme poverty creates memorable individuals and families trying to survive and hoping for a better life. Black men without money or power lose their lands and their lives and the women and children fare even worse. But there are traditions and laughter and I found each and every story spoke of something that will resonate with me for a long time.

The title story, "Innards" tells the saga of a patriarch who earns a paltry living selling the bits and pieces of animals that most people shun. His customers are the poorest of the poor, but his family is embarrassed by his actions and his friends and neighbors ridicule him. But our lives are messy. We constantly rewrite our history (if only to ourselves) even as we live it, to better make it fit our preferred narrative. However, the reality and the cold hard truth is our existence is not shiny and gold and perfect. Our heart is not a pretty red cutout, it is a muscular organ that is bloody and unattractive to most, with the possible exceptions of those in the medical profession.

Who will enjoy this book? Anyone who wants to be engrossed and educated and feel strong emotions. This is not a light summer beach read. It took me a minute to get into the flow of the stories, but the writer's thoughtful opening letter to "Dear Reader" was a valuable assist. I would actually give it a rating of 4 1/2 stars if that option were available to me. I will disclose that some of the cultural references were totally unknown to me and I could have benefitted from some footnotes. I did not want to put the book down and do research on the internet as I prefer to remain enveloped in whatever I am reading. I look forward to more from this new and modern author!!

[Meg · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think I’ll try to return to this with more knowledge about South African culture and history. I know a bit, but this book is so deeply rooted in specific moments in history and contains a lot of dialect that I quite literally don’t understand. Spent a lot of time googling and learned a lot.

[Tonyia Robinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

The stories in the novel are so rich, dynamic, and diverse that they uniquely related to each other. Each situation and the characters, reveals the culture and their human dynamics while discussing their thoughts, dreams and living experiences within the injustices and challenges living in Apartheid Soweto and other areas in South Africa. The author, Makene, covers various topics about Apartheid’s inception in South-Western Townships to its present incorporation in Johannesburg.

Makene even shows the Apartheid’s linkage to racism and human right violations that was practiced in Soweto and South Africa similarly in US, South America, Canada, India, the Caribbean and other places through her various stories. She even discloses how the same violations or cruel treatment in the other countries was manifested in South Africa. Even how colorism impacted the characters.

Truthfully, I had to read some background about Apartheid; the institution and policies. I even wanted to understand the Afrikaan language of the characters to get a real appreciation of their expression of views about their living conditions and thoughts.

I definitely enjoyed this book and how the author masterly linked each story as a body of work.

[Amanda · Rating 2 out of 5]

I unfortunately think a great deal of Innards went over my head with its specific references to South African norms, cuisine, and culture. Not one to shy away from/become frustrated by such features in a narrative, it was still woefully difficult (and sometimes just not possible) to obtain clarity on some of these even after conducting some independent research. This aspect proved most frustrating for me while reading the collection and ultimately made many of the stories difficult to follow, heavily contributing to my lower star rating. Even so, the book's overarching post-apartheid theme underscoring the era's dark, oft romanticized aftermath did come through.

The book as a whole is austere with piercing language from the very start, which I found to be its most affecting feature. And since I'm a sucker for alliteration, I reveled in Makhene's adept repeated use of it:
"...spawn sifting salt..." (Bua, 1)
"...sharing something soft and sticky and sweet." ("Indians Can't Fly," 34)
"...late lazy light..." ("Indians Can't Fly," 35)
"...burning, a blind blaze battling old bruises..." ("Innards," 79)
"...unspoken unsayables..." ("Innards," 83)
"...swallowed by that same sallow Soweto soil." ("Innards," 89)

The stories themselves can be classified as bleak, rarely (if ever) with an upside or silver lining. But I appreciated the narratives' candor in depicting Black-white dynamics within South African society both pre- and post-apartheid ("767B Old Potchefstroom Road," "Black Christmas," "Three Caretaker," "The Virus"); and the police hit squads and soldiers responsible for harassing, torturing, killing, and disappearing alleged dissenters and suspected activists ("Indians Can't Fly," "Black Christmas," "Star-Colored Tears," "Dr. Basters").

Though none were void of disturbing content, the most disturbing story for me was "Jesus Owes Me Money" with its portrayal of rape and suicide. The visual of the rotting dog carcass in "The Caretaker" was also laden with jarring symbolism, as was "Innards" as a whole. In fact, the idea of rotting flesh was a recurring theme throughout the collection—something perhaps Makhene also recognized and why "Innards" was ultimately chosen as the collection's title.

I appreciated the tie-in of "Dr. Basters" that gave background to the events of "Indians Can't Fly" and an unexpected connection to the story "Innards" (p.147-9). I also thought Makhene writing from the perspective of a boer in "The Virus" a unique and creative approach.

I commend Makhene's prowess as a writer and the difficulty of conveying such content, but unfortunately this isn't a reading experience I particularly enjoyed in spite of its strengths.


Noteworthy lines and passages:
"Everyone claims ancestral royalty. Even slaves. No one imagines their beginning damned or marred by mediocrity. No. The likely telling is of glory. Of kings and paramount chiefs prostrating themselves like bush rabbits fearing our forefathers—those fearsome foxes. Of queen mothers throwing their firstborn daughters into our bloodstream like eager spawn sifting salt water for sperm." ("Bua," 1)

"So much of who we are is fiction. The old man's wife used to tell him that. And that only a woman could be God. Only Woman—who takes heat, sweat and sin and turns it into flesh; into sacred being. Carrying life teaches you that, she'd say. Maybe that's why history forgets our grandmothers. They are written in the womb." ("Bua," 1)

"A man in a dark suit walked toward me, his wife behind—her white heels stepping into his imprints, so that their soles cleaved to one another in the dust." ("767B Old Potchefstroom Road," 2-3)

"I could see beyond the hydrangea hedge, to the invisible fence within its branches. I could see beyond that even, to where the garden met an unpaved road. Old Potchefstroom Road. Named for a slept little dorp where Brits held Boers in concentration camps, before the Boers built a giant concentration camp out of the whole country." ("767B Old Potchefstroom Road," 6)

"She shut her eyes to use the last of her strength to tug the second curtain free. The sari had always been frail, with loose silk threads along its seams and a dull yellowing where the sun washed out the dye. It puddled around her like a moat. She slept in its softness. Below the bare window, facing the door and empty mattress. McPherson's men had stabbed the bed's gut open. Its vomit was a cotton-flower-looking foam the color of beach sand." ("Indians Can't Fly," 22)

"She crossed her bare legs. Her body—loose grains of sand—shuddering with invisible wind." ("Indians Can't Fly," 26)

"Krishna pulled herself more tightly in, wondering if her exposed body was saying things she wasn't." ("Indians Can't Fly," 26)

"Krishna had tried to lose herself in the fumes, to be like the smoke—an amorphous and impenetrable white cloud evaporating into some mysterious essence of dust." ("Indians Can't Fly," 28)

"The beetroot juice on Krishna's plate ran thoughtlessly into her rice—the white completely erased, soaked in beetblood." ("Indians Can't Fly," 30)

"There was nothing she recognized around her, except that they were still in Soweto, and that night had grown thick." ("Indians Can't Fly," 30)

"The two women laughed like little girls sharing something soft and sticky and sweet." ("Indians Can't Fly," 34)

"She prayed, clasping this worry like mala beads, skinning its hide in sacrifice. Repudiating its grip then embracing it. And as the fatigue wore off, the worry seemed to swell her belly." ("Indians Can't Fly," 34)

"She thought of their flat for whatever reason, a gentle breeze blowing the curtains into kites, late lazy light flooding inside." ("Indians Can't Fly," 35)

"Me? I'm not going to marry. I know what happens if you marry: childrens. Like Mma—farming babies how seeds shake from sunflower." ("Black Christmas," 43)

"Trees begin to pass us in place of tall buildings. Worshiping trees. Hands lifted to God how Mma do on Sundays, like maybe God's spare change will find a hole through the sky." ("Black Christmas," 55)

"Mama stand there with the face I see her wear when she telling Father James the only sinner she know is his god." ("Star-Colored Tears," 67)

"If anyone knew what signs to look for, if the line and land between his forebears and children remained unbroken, unstolen, someone would've heard the stars piercing the sky the night before. They would've begun preparations for the old man's passing the way his own mother had known to tend her affairs long before word reached that her husband would never return. They would've understood that long-tailed stars don't weep across the sky for celestial vanity. That the stars were mourning their blood." ("Innards," 74)

"Rose recognizes the playback loop from live coverage yesterday—America burning, a blind blaze battling old bruises..." ("Innards," 79)

"She wonders almost out loud to Naledi, if Mama had any happiness seeing the old man suffer this morning. Even if only briefly, like a false start. Because aren't our dead silent witness? Because hadn't she suffered? All those years and years of unspoken unsayables. You've never been married, Mma would say. Not as a put-down, the way she said it. More a plain statement of fact. Like the sun is a violent star and yet it also sustains you." ("Innards," 83)

"—Ntate's dead. Rose cuts straight to the bone. Not knowing how else to say the thing, how to slice it into tiny pieces." ("Innards," 84)

"The kitchen cackles. Everyone giggling, each one of these women not wanting to admit the cancer-rich uranium lurking in those mine dumps. Laughing hard to bury-dead the regular reports of trashed bodies and corrective gang rapes swallowed by that same sallow Soweto soil." ("Innards," 89)

"She looks around and sees her husband's features spread evenly across the room. His proud nose stiffening Keneilwe's face. His gathered brow and tight face claiming Naledi's narrowed eyes and indignant concern." ("Innards," 89)

"Not even mentioning Naledi's broken spine, the fault line where all the family's earthquakes started." ("Innards," 95)

"All he saw were the impressive triangular post office and Victorian storefronts, the whitewashed churches and private homes painted with more ornate detail than any three-tiered wedding cake.
He couldn't yet see Johannesburg for the filthy whore she really was—a scoundrel rat fink who'd porn her own mother's birth canal to the highest bidder. He couldn't yet tell the pretty houses from the drinking holes stuffed with pretty young things white men fetched from the East End, from Parisian perfumeries and maisons closes, and from Russian gangsters running the loose streets of Lithuania." ("Innards," 97)

"He sways as he lifts his firstborn, but still manages to look strong to his wife. Strong and beautiful—the way things easily broken beckon." ("Innards," 99)

"Slap on 60 bonus years for his whiteness. Because black lives matter nowhere—we don't fool ourselves in this country." ("Dr. Basters," 138)

"Their voices echoed of a rough wilderness, a desert place where young cubs grow to eat their mothers." ("The Caretaker," 182)

[nathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Major thanks to NetGalley and W. W. Norton & Company for an ARC of this book in exchange for my honest thoughts:

READING VLOG

Bold and brave in the terrain of community, hardships and heartships. There's landscape in the language here, vast and inventive in how language is a ways of relaying history that is found knotted, right and loose, with the people of Soweto.

These short stories rely on each other, require understanding and spatial awareness of the worlds and otherworldliness found in the ways we find homes within each other. For the reader, patience is required, but once kinship is made between reader and text, Makhene offers her home to us with so much color and vibrancy that fills you with wonder.

Ultimately, this is Makhene's love letter to her hometown, Soweto. It's wrought with so much faith and honesty that every word is meant to be there. As she is meant to be so proud to be from Soweto.

A fresh voice not to be missed.

[Sheila · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a hard book to read making this a hard review to write. 12 short stories that must be read in order tell the story of people in South Africa from apartheid through the COVID-19 pandemic. Later stories make reference to people and events in earlier stories. I cannot say any story in particular stood out to me. What struck me most was the cruelty exhibited by people because they could do it, not because they had a reason be cruel. There was white-on-black, black-on-black, black-on-brown, adults-on-children, adult children-on-elderly parents, neighbor-on-neighbor, people-on-animal, white-on-white (one incident), and black-on-black (one incident).

I will admit I do not know much about South African history. I remember the apartheid and its ending. I had a passing reference to the Boer Wars in history class but very little knowledge about what and why they occurred. There are references to the Boers wanting to take their lands back in South Africa. These stories opened my eyes up to the difference in my upbringing versus the upbringing of the people in these stories. I am appalled that this happened and still happens. Truth comes out in these stories as does desperation. The Afrikaner dialect is used through the book which gives a realistic feel.

I applaud the author for showing us the reality of people's lives in South Africa. Her writing is fantastic. I would like to say I would read her again, but I'm not sure if I can handle the depression from these stories. This was truly one of the hardest books for me to read. It should be read by all.

[Raquel Froes · Rating 5 out of 5]

I must say after reading this book I feel very illiterate. Anyways I've decided to register the books I read, so here I go, only to remember my adhd self about this experience: reading Innards felt like entering Babylon. Ive been to SA twice, once with 16 years old and again now, with 32. Needless to say my interests, my focus and so my impressions completely changed. One thing remained: how beautiful it is, in the most chaotic and pure sense of what beautiful means.
I try to read as many books as possible about things I don't know and haven't imagined yet. Innards satisfied me for a long time. Each story opens a new world of stories, which without ChatGPT and not being a native english speaker, I must confess, I would have probably stopped at day 1. But thankfully to the author and modern technology I have now some 150 tabs at my head, heart and computer.
Two delightful surprises for me: first when the stories started to interconnect and I felt like I was living in this vibrant community and getting all the gossip. Secondly when I recognised so much of my home country in it, Brasil. It feels like a hug from across the ocean remembering the "global south" is only a bunch of cousin-countries.
Magogodi I will not really try to describe. My brain puts her in the box "Genius".

[Kathryn Marinakis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredibly written look at life in Soweto through apartheid and ongoing colonialism. Rooted in a love for her home and the actual language of the local people (some Dutch, Afrikaans, and South African English), the author explicitly does not cater to the white gaze/European English. Have google ready, not only for quick translations but also for history lessons bc Makhene does not hold your hand and explain everything.

It’s absolutely brutal in its honesty, not hiding any of the ugliness of the time and place from the reader but it’s also not without humor and warmth in moments between the recurring characters.

This was absolutely my most challenging read this year but I’d say it’s also the most rewarding in terms of expanding my own knowledge of the world, and for that I am grateful to have had the opportunity to read it. This is is the type of book that reminds me why I love reading and I’m excited to see where the future takes this talented (af) author.

[Azu Rikka · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5☆
I love the tone and the voices of these interconnected shortstories. The different races are authentically depicted first via language (though it might fly over people's heads who don't understand the words) and second via their history.
I like the layers of the stories, showing victims being perpetrators being rescuers and the other way round, all the grey areas of individuals and communities.
Also, the author points out current political and social issues in a straightforward way.
For me, the stories could have been linked a bit more tightly and although I loved the slang, it might make her writing less appealing for Non-South Africans, as it is a mix of many languages (Afrikaans, Zulu, Sotho etc)

[Briann · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved the author’s “Dear Reader” letter at the beginning. I loved how the author dissected her thoughts behind the title and the purpose behind her book:

“White supremacy has gnawed out our innards, often distorting who we are – even to ourselves – by pretending the entirety of our being boils down to a simple equation without meaning beyond the white gaze… In writing this collection, I wanted to unearth our most sacred stories, our secret selves, and lewd laughs beyond the white gaze. Who are we – in a white supremacist world – when we aren’t performing blackness? To me, that self is so inextricably linked to our humanity, it is our innards – the thing that cannot be leveled flat, even in the face of 370 years of violent, raw material power.”

Personally, I wish some more historical context was offered. I admit that I am ignorant of a lot of historical contexts related to Africa, and I would have appreciated some elucidation.

[A · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simply by picking up Innards, I felt like I had picked a pair of binoculars and honed in on the intimate lives of South African Black folk . Makehne brilliantly depicts life throughout many generations in South Africa. She peeled away my American blinders and allowed me to peak inside the homes of the real people in South Africa.

Makehne exposes her readers to realities we want to be ignorant about. The voices she amplifies forces us to truly listen, to truly feel, to begin to understand the stories that must be told.

Yet, despite the rawness of her tales, Makehne weaves tenderness into each of them. She finds a way to reach out and touch your soul with each word she writes.

[Dipankar Bhadra · Rating 4 out of 5]

The stories in Innards are like a strange dream, with characters who talk and think in a jumble. Some of them are not trustworthy, and many have faced difficult times. The author shows the dark and messy parts of life, the ones we usually ignore. But even in the darkness, there is truth. The stories are about poverty, war, and oppression, set in South Africa.

Innards might make you uncomfortable, but it's worth it. The author's writing is powerful and vivid, drawing you into a world you may not know. The stories feel real and raw, like the food of the poor that can also be a delicacy. Magogodi oaMphela Makhene is a talented writer, and this collection is both unsettling and captivating.

[Saphi · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really have been taking a long time to review this one because it is not really an easy book to rate because it is more of a historical recounting of the lives of Soweto residents during the Apartheid era. I find that people don't enjoy this book because they feel it may be too, well, boring if we read it at a superficial level, however, the interest comes to how we take these tales to recount the horrific state of affairs at the time. I feel people should not sleep on this book, and give it an actual chance!

[Daniel Polansky]

A suite of short stories depicting life in a Soweto ghetto from apartheid to the near-future. Really good. Written in a mix of English, Afrikaans and (I think) isiZulu, the stories are raw and break in unexpected directions. Makhene's characters – betrayed women, drunken elders, quisling professors, a post-apocalyptic Boer – are distinct and interesting. I dug this, I'll keep an eye out for her next work.

[Brittney Jade · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not going to lie - this book really SUCKED for me (personally).
I had a verrryyyy hard time reading it. It’s way too artistic for me and the language is very weird (it’s written by someone from South Africa so the English is a bit broken and just very hard to understand).

Reading this felt like I was reading for an English class and I just didn’t like it at all; but just because I didn’t like it doesn’t mean someone else would feel the same way.
This was just not my cup of tea

[Jennifer Martin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a dense, difficult read that does nothing to help you along. It reminded me of Toni Morrison— the author unapologetically expects you to do a full excavation of their words in order to make any kind of meaning of them. When you can (and I probably only managed about half the time), the effect is powerful.

Indians Can’t Fly was probably my favorite story, followed by 7678B Old Potchefstroom Road.

[Pj Gaumond · Rating 4 out of 5]

I won an Advanced Reading Copy. It was an interesting read although written in an English dialect that made it difficult to follow at times. This being said, the stories were real and heart-wrenching and some were heart-warming. I did enjoy the read although it would have been better with a glossary of some sort to explain some unknown terms. Thank you to W.W. Norton for the opportunity to read and review.