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Sheila Roberts Feedback by Sheila Roberts

First report

Joburg special — Shaun Gatter
Discovering the Parasites — Brandon Hamber
Taxi talk — Liz Kuhns
The Discreet Charm of Nairobbers — Rasik Shah
Who shoved Humpty Dumpty? — Buntu Siwisa

Joburg special — Shaun Gatter

General Comments:
This story remains most powerful, in my opinion. It is chilling, shocking, and saddening. This second reading made me more deeply aware of the hopelessness, degradation, and viciousness of lives like those of Jeremiah, Studla, and Thabang. It is, however, the realization throughout that Thabang has not lost his full humanity that brings a dimension of sadness to the narration. The minor changes to the structure of the story were effective. For instance, allowing the reader to realize that Thabang is already in the car, smoking the dagga from the wine bottle, when Jeremiah’s cellphone rings. I think it was good strategy to change the title. “Joburg Special,” the nickname of a gun, has a harsher, tighter connection to the story than “Geoffrey’s Bike.” Also, it made good structural sense to postpone Thabang’s flashbacks to his childhood and games with Geoffrey until the car is actually speeding through the Northern Suburbs. I realize now that it was unlikely, given the intensity of Thabang’s fearful excitement and the effect of the dagga on him, that he would immediately begin remembering the white boy with the bicycle. I loved the addition of the sentence on page 2, “He had never seen such green grass before. It didn’t look real and felt new and alive under his bare feet.” These sensations seem to me to be exactly those of a boy who had grown up on the rubble and mud of a township.

On page 4 there is a further improvement; the sentence “But he was also scared like a child” having been expanded to “Deep inside though, there was a little boy’s fear, frantic and on the verge of tears.” This development is good, even necessary, as it keeps the reader aware that the boy Thabang, who played with Geoffrey, still resides within a poverty-stricken no-hoper; resides in a man who is soon to be killed. On the same page, the business of getting the white man out of his BMW and then back in with the hijackers is choreographed more effectively now.

There is a poignant connection between page 5 and the final lines of the story. Geoffrey had comforted Thabang, when as a child he fell off the bicycle, by saying “Everyone falls. Everyone falls.” This wise statement from a small boy becomes Thabang’s last thought as he dies, leaving the reader saddened. Also on page 5, Shaun Gatter has removed the sentence “This was wrong.” This elision makes a lot of sense. Thabang, used to walking on the wrong side of the Law and now confused and frightened, is hardly likely to make such a clearly verbalized moral judgment at this point.


Analysis:
Apart from the fraught substance of this story, what distinguishes it is the interesting, unusual way the narrative is laid out on the page. Longer sections intersect with rough, economic dialogue, and short, crisp sentences set out singly on the line. Much of it, particularly pages 5 and 6, have the appearance of free-verse poetry. Page 6 could be read out loud most dramatically as a poem. If form and content are frequently indivisible in good writing, then the imbrication here of poetic style with events both dreadful and nostalgic is brilliant strategy on the author’s part.

Talking about style, I do have a few queries. The sentence on page l, “The usual dagga buzz was making his muscles melt and settling like a blanket on his skin and brain…” worries me slightly. The “blanket” seems a not quite accurate simile, especially as Thabang also feels that his “mind was clean, fresh, fast.”

I wondered, on page 6, whether Jeremiah would use such polite language to insult Thabang, calling him a “woman” and a “little girl.” I believe he would use cruder language.

From the time of the arrival of the Private Security, I was never clear who was coloured and who was white. Also, these two sentences bothered me: “Jeremiah’s body crumpled as if a string holding it up had been cut. Thabang felt warm liquid spray onto his face and he then heard the gun shot.” If Jeremiah has already crumpled to the ground, then his blood would spray somewhere around Thabang’s thighs or knees. Also (and I’m going by the movies here), when someone is shot, the force of the bullet shoves him down hard. “Crumpled” does not seem the right word. I have trouble visualizing the scene, particularly as Thabang feels the spray of blood before he hears the gun-shot. Is this possible?

The change of wording of the last six lines is very good. I was horrified by the Private Security’s cheery words, “Right, china. This is it. Nothing Personal. Part of the game, etc…” Then just before Thabang is shot, he hears “the clank-clank of an old bicycle coming over the hill.” This reconnection to an earlier innocence at the moment of death is the kind of imaginative detail that made people like Pauline Smith and Athol Fugard rightly famous-a reference which I hope is not annoying to Shaun Gatter.

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Discovering the Parasites — Brandon Hamber

General Comments and Analysis
I am still of the opinion that this story could be tightened and the pace picked up without any loss to its fabulous and other-worldly qualities. I would shorten the opening paragraphs about the descritivel, particularly from halfway down page l. The reader gets no sense that the locals don’t like newcomers. That the locals only mention the descritivel loudly in the presence of newcomers is not born out by the story. I would also shorten the sections about the descritivel in the long paragraph on page 2.

Hamber’s close attention to detail and his evocative description of the island and its occupants (those few whom we meet) are most interesting. Once again, I was pulled into the sense of magic and the presence of the inexplicable in the story. While I enjoyed the well-crafted dialogue between Juan and the narrator on page 3, I also felt that it could have been rendered more economically and with greater urgency.

Renato’s decision to relate his life-story and that of his family is good strategy. The reader needs to know how Renato became a renowned shark-killer. But again, I would have liked Renato’s tale to “read” more like an oral narrative: be shorter and more intense at the moments of menace and danger. It should not have been the kind of story to put the boys to sleep and this reader in danger of nodding.

On page 6, last paragraph, why should it have seemed like decades that they were on the boat? The idea of such an expanse of time slows down the potential excitement of their adventure for the reader. In fact, also for the narrator himself, who eventually has to take a rest. However, the scene where it seems the shark is under the boat is actively realized and exciting. The aftermath, where Renato will not satisfy the narrator’s need for reassurance that felt-experience does come from the material, provides a thoughtful anti-climax. The story’s ending, while also somewhat too leisurely and wordy, is good, leaving the reader with yet another mystery to ponder.

Hamber explored his themes of belief versus disbelief; the simultaneous presence of the material and the non-material; and the complex nature of heroism with imagination, comedy, and a good eye for the unexpected detail.

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Taxi talk — Liz Kuhns

General Comments:
The type-face of this story is clearer now and looks more professional. (I made the same remark about Buntu Siwisa’s story, but am not sure whether the changes in typography were made by the authors or those working with the website-not that it matters.)

I think the story is improved by the removal of the details about being lost in Arizona. While these details were amusing, they may be read as foreshadowing a future disorientation which, of course, will not be happening. Liz Kuhns made the right decision to let the story’s opening stand on its strange, engaging dialogue. Once again, on page 2 I liked very much the protagonist’s reflections on how others respond when being informed that she is South African-something this reader could identify with.

This time round, I was more aware of the regular eye-contact the two characters make in the rear-view mirror. What to me seemed at first a disadvantage to communication, I recognize now as a very subtle and revealing way of suggesting and emphasizing meaning. The visual connection between the two characters seems not only more intense but their ability to experience simultaneous thoughts is also heightened. For instance, whereas in the first draft, the woman passenger in the taxi suggested to the driver that he should get a wife from Palestine, in this draft, just as she thinks such a thought, he blurts out that he has a wife, and that she’s from Palestine. Nice!

The story maintains its surprises; surprises that avoid stereotyping. When the passenger asks the driver where is wife is at that moment, he replies “She with old boyfriend.” The reader had hardly expected a macho Palestinian man to make such an admission and had even less expected him to brush off the whole matter by concentrating on his friend, also a taxi-driver, who has a catalogue of mail-order brides.

Liz Kuhns’s decision to depict more fully her women-friends in Cape Town was most effective. From the vague talk of “Beeeaaauuutiful” Russian girls and the foibles of American and Palestinian women, all from the unreliable voice of the taxi-driver, the reader is treated to evocative and amusing memories of flesh-and-blood, mildly eccentric, Cape Town women.

Again, I enjoyed the narrator’s good sense-of-humor and tolerance of the absurdities of the taxi driver. Yet-and I might be misinterpreting here-his final gestures do possess some grandeur, as does his “Carte Blanche” offer to come for her at anytime she wants, for a date in a taxi-cab.

Analysis:
“Taxi Talk” rides (no pun) on the humor of its dialogue, and the many small surprises and mini-climaxes as the journey progresses from O’Hare to the Downtown Greyhound Bus Station. I’ve asked myself whether it would have worked as well had the taxi-driver been of some other nationality. Probably not. Liz Kuhns needed a driver who was not only voluble but also unaware that there has ever been the coinage “sexism.” He has to be obsessed with women in order to try his ploy-to lead her to self-consciousness of herself as a woman and awareness of him as a man who loves (some) women. To enhance the humor of the dialogue, he also needs to be deficient in geographical knowledge, which a Pakistani or Indian driver would probably not be. I would say, again from experience, that an Indian driver would have recognized fairly closely his passenger’s accent; also, that a black driver, whether American, Tahitian, Haitian, or Ghanaian, would probably have remained relatively blank-eyed and incommunicado. The story, with its “modern” Palestinian driver, is dead on the money.

The story also needed what it has, a very savvy young woman from that improbable place, South Africa; a place that arouses a confusion of absurd, vague flashes of information.

My further comments are all small matters of punctuation and typos. I won’t mention the typos, but they are there. On page l, the driver asks Where you going?, The comma is not needed. One never needs more than one punctuation point. On page 2, there is the line: Ah, I thought, a CNN man, judging him. I think the phrase “judging him” could come out since it’s obvious that she’s judging him. On the same page, the Dalai Lama is called the “Dally Llama.” Is this a South Africanism I’ve forgotten? Also on page 2, the passenger thinks, Palestine? Where that?, No comma needed.

On page 3, the driver says, “What do you think of that!?, One never uses more than one punctuation point. The !?, is comic-book style. The language itself must carry emphasis.
On page 3, the passenger finds the experience “nerve-wrecking,” which is all right, if she means her nerves are being wrecked. But the usual expression is “nerve-racking;” i.e., her nerves are on the rack.

One last minor complaint: Liz Kuhns should keep the taxi-driver’s speech-patterns consistent. Sometimes he uses the S correctly at the end of a verb in the present tense; othertimes, he doesn’t. See the paragraph on page 4 which begins, Yeah, my wife, she is Palestine, for instance.

Again, this is a very enjoyable story, one where an ordinary event is heightened by the panache and performance of the driver and the humorous, analytic mind of his passenger.

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The Discreet Charm of Nairobbers — Rasik Shah

General Comments:
The removal of the opening highjacking scene from the original draft has improved this story, in my opinion. The narrative now has a smoother flow, greater unity of substance, and the ability to move swiftly toward the strong climax of the carjacking and its aftermath.

The extra background details provided for Dharam round him out. He comes across as a calm, pleasant man; conventional and dutiful; and with a strong generous affection for his family. I enjoyed his arrangement of a visit to the Game Reserve with his sister and brother-in-law, and his little lecture about Westerners dealing more actively with tragedies than they did. He tries very cunningly to manoeuvre Pratima to an acceptance of immigration, but Pratima has her own mind. The ending is gently humorous as Pratima thinks of Dharam as lacking feelings and having a simple mind. Unexpected and delightful to the reader is her fond thoughts about Chris. We don’t believe Dharam will ever get his own way in the case of his sister.

Page 2 is very well written. The strategies adopted by Pratima and Manju to secure parking when they go shopping are visually immediate, humorous, and interesting, and the way the three well-dressed men organize the carjacking is adept and believable. The response of the women is admirable. They are fearful, but remain dignified and in stoic silence. How Pratima manipulates Chris is also brilliantly portrayed: the scene verges on the incredible and yet is moving and, again, gently humorous. The reader is also relieved that no harm, apart from dishevelment, has come to Manju. The reader believes that these Kenyans will stick things out, however tough life becomes. A most enjoyable story.

Analysis:
The long opening paragraph could bear some editing, I think. I would break the paragraph at “True, he was born here…” as what follows are his memories of Kenya. Then, I think I would complete that paragraph with “His younger sister, Pratima, would go to Pangani Girls’ School when she was ready. And cut out the following sentences until the next (new) paragraph: “Independence came to Kenya…”

On page 2 I would simply start the new paragraph with “Guddi settled down well in Birmingham…” The details about Dharam’s school-life on page1 and his wedding on page 2 are not necessary to the story and serve to slow down the pace. In the third paragraph of page 2, I would cut out the repetition of Dahram’s promise to his mother, which the reader has already been informed about, and from “each other” pick up at “The time had now come for Dharam to honour his pledge. He organized…”

At the end of page 3, I would take out the last two sentences. They give away what is going to be the crux of the story. On page 4, I suggest changing the wording of the final paragraph to “But that day Pratima had in fact parked the car at the big Juma Mosque…” leaving out any mention at this point of the carjacking. Also, the phrase “near Dharamshi Lakhamsi & Co” is unnecessary.

On page 6, third paragraph, again the author does not want to leap to the future. Thus the following should be taken out: “It was to be her saving grace, Pratima realized later. She did not like the fact of the driver stealing glances at her from time to time. He was ogling her.” The reader already knows that the driver is watching her through the rearview mirror.

In the next paragraph, I would add something to suggest that Jaswant had no vices, apart from his golf and drinks with the boys on Friday nights. As it is, the sentence seems to be tagged onto what goes before. In the following paragraph, I would remove “Pratima got truly worried now.” The reader does not need to be told what is obvious.

On page7, take out the repetitive sentences in paragraph 2, from “The civic” to “frequent.”

On page 8 there seems to be a contradiction. Pratima thinks that the important thing was to keep one’s wits about one, but the next instant she is petrified and cowering. I would take out that second sentence. In the next paragraph it’s slightly confusing how the driver can open two car doors at the same time, assuming that one is on the driver’s side and the other on the passenger’s side. Page 9, in the middle, the sentence should read “Tears rolled down her cheeks (or face).” On page11, before the break, the sentences of the top paragraph are awkward. Try to vary them or give them more cadence. Still on that page, after the break, I believe that using Manju’s name is a mistake. Pratima is the one to be discussed, as it is her decision to immigrate that Dharam wants. Manju could be mentioned earlier, in passing: for instance, that she is managing to cope.

Finally, check through the text carefully and alter, where you can, similar words that appear close to each other; e.g., page 7, third paragraph, “started” and “started.”

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Who shoved Humpty Dumpty? — Buntu Siwisa

General Comments:
This highly imaginative fable now comes across more clearly to the reader. The clarity is assisted by the wider spacing and paragraphing. Buntu Siwisa’s control of humor and comedy is firm and effective, helped along by his manipulation of comic language. For instance, the images of the following sentence on page l are marvelously connected: “The brutal fact though was that although mankind had blown to pieces the thralldom of the Egg Regime, the yolk of unease insisted on plastering itself all over their blood-won Mankind Regime.” Some lines later, the advocate “lullabied his rage with a pinch of political correctness.” The advocate’s “lullaby” will be paralled on page 3 by his whispered “Old McDonald” toyi-toyi song (a hilarious comic device). On page 4 the comedy becomes “laugh-out-loud” when we read that “the king’s men and king’s horses had scrambled eggs for two weeks after Sir Humpty Dumpty’s death.” This funny act of cannibalism carries suggestions of old beliefs; i.e., the gaining of strength from consuming a dead leader, or a strong, vital animal. Yet, at the same time, the idea of a walking, talking, dominating egg being eaten makes this reader want to swallow down her rising gorge-a response fully intended by snide Buntu Siwisa. On that page, too, there is the unusual, fresh, and evocative sentence said by Mr.Msindo-’He beat me on my mouth.’

There are further very fine images on page 6. The Pillay Shopping Complex was everyone’s “soul-holder,” and then the Shopping Complex was “forced to kiss the bulldozers.” Great stuff!

Analysis:
For me this story is close to being fully achieved. What I would like to point out, however, is that the author makes repeated errors in the technique of writing dialogue. For instance, the following sentence from page l has a minor error:

‘When will they ever put a human on the bench?’ Enquired so pointlessly his heart…
The upper-case E should be in lower-case-e. Whenever a line of dialogue ends with a comma or question mark, the following “he asked” or “she said” or “fumed and fretted the advocate’s thoughts…should always be in lower-case, not capitals. There are many such minor stylistic errors, reducing the professionalism of this otherwise superb story.

I have other stylistic suggestions. I would break the long passage of prose on page l by beginning a new paragraph at “The eggs had ruled for so long, for too long” as this begins a new important piece of information. I don’t think it is good style to use more than one punctuation point. For instance, if there is a ? followed by closing quotations, a comma or period is not also required. Also, to use three punctuation marks for effect, such as ??!, is comic-book style. The language has to create the effect or emphasis through its own strength.

On page 4, third paragraph, I am not sure I understood the term “virgil dances.” Does the author mean “vigil” dances? In the fourth paragraph, wouldn’t the phrase “for centuries” be more effective than simply “for a century?” This is, however, a tiny point.

I enjoyed very much the background details to Mr. Msindo, Mr. Bosman, and Mr. Pillay’s lives. Could their wives not also be included, however briefly, in their reflections?

As the story ends, Siwisa writes “Soon after that, hullabaloo broke loose… Yet, I have the sense that the courtroom has been in a continual hullabaloo, with the judge hammering away repeatedly with his gavel. Maybe a stronger word than “hullabaloo” is needed for the ending?

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