Skimming the surface

Troy Blacklaws

Karoo Boy, by Troy Blacklaws.
Published by Double Storey, 2004.
208 pages, Softcover
ISBN: 1919930256
R 130,95

“I wrote Karoo Boy partly as a reply to Disgrace, as I found JM Coetzee’s South Africa relentlessly bleak. I have not shied away from violence and cruelty, but have focused on a sensuous, filmic evocation of South Africa, ending on a note of hope. Coetzee writes of Africa with a scalpel. I write [of it] with a stubby, chewed pencil.”

— From an interview on Mail & Guardian Online.

1. Who is Troy Blacklaws?

   Incurable dreamer, flawed father, unorthodox teacher, avid snowboarder, marathon man, lover of images, word juggler.

2. Now that your debut novel has been published, does it put a lot of pressure on you to make sure everything else you write is even better?

   No. I imagine I will go on writing as intuitively as I do.

3. Karoo Boy beat your first novel to publication. Is your first novel still unpublished?

   Blood Orange is still unpublished, though I have floated a few words on my website, www.troyblacklaws.com.

   Part memoir, part fiction, Blood Orange is the story of Gecko, of his childhood among the green hills of Natal and of his jagged school days in the Cape. The narrative jolts and jams to reflect the boy’s fumbling attempts to make sense of the laws of race and the rituals of sex. Although apartheid is a pungent backdrop, this is essentially a story of growing up, of navigating the hazards of school and the risks of the farm.

   I have a foreword to the novel by Donald Woods, who (years ago) took a manuscript of a film I wrote in East London to London. The film script died, but I stayed in touch with Woods, who felt I ought to go on writing.

4. What are you working on at the moment?

   I am writing a novel about a South African teacher in Vienna. Though the setting is a far cry from South Africa, his memory landscape is South African.

5. What is your favourite moment in Karoo Boy?

   I am fond of the moment when Douglas swims with Marika in the reservoir: “The sun spears through the dusky water and I can see her stomach and legs, the colour of the underbelly of a frog. I see a smudge of black down by her hips, like a Chinese brushflick on canvas. I surface into the blue sky and the laughter spilling from Marika’s teeth.”

6. Is there something to be learned from this novel?

   That South Africa is cruel, yet beautiful.

7. What inspires you?

   Reading a beautifully written book, like Tim Winton’s Dirt Music. Writing in a café after reading the paper. Seeing a Coen brothers film. Travelling with Daniela, Finn and Mia.

8. What do you do when you’re not “chewing pencils” and writing novels?

   Running, marking papers, playing football with the alte Herren (the old men) of the village, playing tennis, throwing a rugby ball to my son, Finn (to remind him of his being half-South African), travelling in search of the sun.

9. What are the three most important things in your life - right now?

   My wife, Daniela, my son, Finn, my daughter, Mia.

10. If you could have a conversation with anyone, living or dead, who would it be? And what would you talk about?

    I would enjoy a coffee in a Parisian café in the Latin Quarter with Albert Camus. I am in awe of The Outsider. I would tell him how the death of the Arab on the beach partly inspired my setting the first chapter of Karoo Boy on Muizenberg beach.

11. a) You say Karoo Boy is, in part, a reply to Disgrace by JM Coetzee - why do you think people have reacted so strongly to Disgrace?

    I heard that feelings about Disgrace ran high in South Africa. Hard for me to gauge why, as I have lived overseas for so long. Here in Germany Disgrace is revered. As for me, I felt that Disgrace was flawlessly crafted, but it evoked a South Africa I hardly recognised.
    
    b) And what does it say about South African literature?

    That South African literature (if as desolate as Disgrace) ought to come with a warning not to listen to Leonard Cohen while you read if you do not want to go over the edge.
    
    c) What do you say about South African literature?

    That it tends to be virile, visceral, raw. I love Bloke Modisane’s Blame Me on History (another South African who ended up in Germany), Alex la Guma’s Time of the Butcherbird, David Medalie’s The Shooting of the Christmas Cows, Etienne van Heerden’s Mad Dog and other stories. Sadly, some good South African writing is hard to find: Dennis Hirson’s The House Next Door to Africa and Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali’s Sounds of a Cowhide Drum.

    South Africa has exported its literature the way Australia has exported its music. Each time I go into a British Bookshop (in Frankfurt or Vienna) I run my fingers along the spines of the South African novels, dreaming of the day I’ll see my novel sandwiched between Behr and Brink.

12. Lastly, everyone wants to know what writers read - so I have to ask - what are you reading at the moment?
    

    Am reading Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye again, as I am to teach it to my grade 11s.
    
    And if we turned on your hi-fi, what would we hear playing?

    You would hear Coldplay, or De Phazz or Hugh Masekela or Moby or (if I was alone) Bob Dylan or Tom Waits.

Have your say! To comment on this piece write to webvoet@litnet.co.za, and become a part of our interactive opinion page.

to the top / boontoe

© Kopiereg in die ontwerp en inhoud van hierdie webruimte behoort aan LitNet, uitgesluit die kopiereg in bydraes wat berus by die outeurs wat sodanige bydraes verskaf. LitNet streef na die plasing van oorspronklike materiaal en na die oop en onbeperkte uitruil van idees en menings. Die menings van bydraers tot hierdie werftuiste is dus hul eie en weerspieël nie noodwendig die mening van die redaksie en bestuur van LitNet nie. LitNet kan ongelukkig ook nie waarborg dat hierdie diens ononderbroke of foutloos sal wees nie en gebruikers wat steun op inligting wat hier verskaf word, doen dit op hul eie risiko. Media24, M-Web, Ligitprops 3042 BK en die bestuur en redaksie van LitNet aanvaar derhalwe geen aanspreeklikheid vir enige regstreekse of onregstreekse verlies of skade wat uit sodanige bydraes of die verskaffing van hierdie diens spruit nie. LitNet is ’n onafhanklike joernaal op die Internet, en word as gesamentlike onderneming deur Ligitprops 3042 BK en Media24 bedryf.