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383 pages, Kindle Edition
Published February 1, 2023
Everywhere I turned, there was just … loss. I had to find some morsel of myself that didn’t depend on affection from someone else.The Institute for Creative Dying is housed in a huge labyrinthine magical multi-layered structure, slivered in between the relative normality of Johannesburg suburban homes. From the early pages we are invited into a very realistic kind of magical realism that delves down to the microscopic science of how things work and zooms out into the biggest existential dilemmas and truths. The physical building blossoms into a place where people willingly embrace the radical uncertainty of life.
Apartheid – the tenebrous bogeyman that most people agreed had had a fruitful life for a select few and, post ’94, had gone about disguising its fruits in plain sight. This bogeyman had transformed itself with such equanimity over the last decade that today the majority were left wondering where all the fruit had gone, while leaders seemed stumped as to how to take it all back without snapping the stems from which the fruits grew.In the end, I feel, the author proposes through the voice of one of his characters that in a post-post-modern world people can “invent their own rituals for personal transition and new beginnings. These rituals [don’t] have to last forever. They [can] change and adapt to the demands of the moment.” Maybe he is onto something.