I had read that, as popular as Cry, the Beloved Country is, this work (published in 1953) is generally considered his best. Having only read these two novels and a collection of Paton’s short stories, I don’t know if I have enough familiarity with his work to pass judgment but I will say that this is a very impressive work. Paton succeeds brilliantly in getting into people’s minds and it is hard to imagine that his ability to do so or his understanding of how people think could be improved upon. It is not a surprise that Paton was brought up in the Christadelphian Church, a sect that believes in the absolute primacy of the Bible, among other things. His very deep knowledge of the Bible comes through on every page. More than intellectual familiarity with what the lines in the Bible say, Paton demonstrates a profound understanding of the complexity of human beings, of good and evil, and of the nature of shame, honesty, and acceptance. Indeed, much of the book is a meditation on belief and how it does (versus how it “should”) govern our behavior. The novel is the story of an upright young (white) police officer who transgresses the color line in apartheid South Africa in the 1950s. The act is not only a serious legal problem but far more so a family problem as he is from an old Boer (Dutch) family with strict cultural and religious standards. What happens is almost impossible to see happening any other way and Paton’s telling of the story, both in how and what people do as well as how and what they think, is masterful. He is especially impressive at depicting the conscience at work. Though I understand the compelling nature of Cry, the Beloved Country, I cannot understand why this novel isn’t far better known. ( )

Cry the Beloved Country is usually credited as Paton's best. They are both good but this one's story was more thrilling. ( )

I find it a shame that this book isn’t better known. I found it much more engaging than Cry, the Beloved Country– it even had me laughing at parts. And it’s not a happy or amusing story! It’s a tragic love story, but presented and unraveled in a way I did not at all expect. Set deep in South Africa’s time of apartheid, when interracial relationships were considered a crime- and that doesn’t just mean marriage or having children together. It meant no white person could ever be seen touching a black woman, or deep suspicion would be cast upon him. The story is centered on one family in particular: about a fine young man, admired in the community and working for the government no less. And how his family was always a bit troubled by his “softer” side- his father found his interest in stamp-collecting rather contemptible, for example. His mother worried over his sensitivity- though he could be just as stern as any when a situation required it. The problem arises when this young man becomes involved in the life of a black girl who struggles to get by. She can never seem to hold down a job so resorts to making and selling illegal liquor, and gets thrown into prison for it repeatedly, until the situation is so messed up that her child is taken away.. She did kind of hold her relationship with the main character as a threat over his head the whole time, to get help when she was in financial trouble. However the final key that made everything fall down, that ruined his entire family’s reputation, was something very subtle and unexpected, that she pulled out at the last minute proving that yes, indeed, they’d had an illicit tryst.

It is told so artfully, everything that’s of real importance to our character seems to happen hidden in the background, only slowly coming to light- probably because of course that’s how he had to keep things. It makes the reader wonder too for a while. I have to say, I found something a bit frustrating and annoying- it was difficult for me to keep straight who was who, and if they were friends or relatives, and what exactly that relationship. It’s told obliquely, from the viewpoint of the aunt. Who and how-related all the people are isn’t really pointed out to the reader- the narrative will just say something along the lines of so-and-so showed up and we did this and I’m puzzling over: is that her neighbor, her cousin or what? I admit it could just be my still-muddled head (I’ve been unwell lately) that I missed some introductions or cues . . .

While it is very different from both, this book reminded me a lot of Joyce Cary’s Mister Johnson, because of the writing style, the setting and the culture, the one native character that can’t seem to fathom what he is repeatedly doing to make ends meet is criminally wrong by the standards of the white people who have colonial rule. In a completely different way, it also made me think of One-Eyed Cat, because of how exquisitely it detailed the inner turmoil of someone who has a very troublesome or even dangerous secret, and is full of dread and suspicion about who might know, and misinterprets the comments and actions of those around him based on his guess of if they know or not- but he can never ask because if they don’t already know, it exposes everything!

Lastly I want to say (this is getting too long for sure) how much I enjoyed the scenes about stamp-collecting, because my husband has a huge stamp collection, so some of this was familiar to me, I read some of those parts out loud to him, he appreciated that too. And the phalarope? it’s a shorebird, that is sometimes but not often seen in a certain locale- the character and his father do a bit of bird-watching at one point, and often remark on it. There’s this whole thing about a huge gorgeously printed bird book this is however full of errors because it was made by an Englishman who apparently didn’t know the local birdlife too well at all. It’s the father’s thing, birdwatching, and it had a whole other symbolic layer in the narrative as well. Which I’m not quite sure I pick up on all of that, but this novel is definitely staying on my shelf for future re-reads. It's that good. ( )

I remember the emotional shock of [b:Cry, the Beloved Country|6150|Cry, the Beloved Country|Alan Paton|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1344182368l/6150._SY75_.jpg|59082] when I read it my senior year of high school, but not the body of it, so it was interesting to read another Paton work seven years later. His narration has a strong oral tendency, from the protagonist’s aunt’s perspective. The first few pages cast a pall over the rest of the book, and reading it feels like falling further towards an awful inevitable conclusion. Not a light beach read. ( )

What are the consequences when an otherwise outstanding member of a community knowingly breaks the law, whether it be civil or moral (or both)? It was a question Nathaniel Hawthorne asked throughout many of his writings, and it is the issue that lies at the center of Alan Paton's powerful and deeply moving novel. -- Handsome Afrikaner Lieutenant Pieter van Vlaanderen seems to have it all: a sterling military service record, a respected police career, a loving family -- he is even an outstanding rugby player. But he gets involved in the life of a poor black woman Stephanie -- and this is the age of apartheid in South Africa. Crossing the color line is to have drastic repercussions for all aspects of his life. -- The story, narrated for the most part by Pieter's adoring aunt Sophie, who senses the oncoming tragedy but does not intervene until calamity strikes. The book as a whole packs quite an emotional wallop -- there are brilliant insights into the human condition, as well as into the strict racial divides of South Africa at the time. Somehow, though, it struck me that there was perhaps too much build-up to the revelation, and the denouement was rather sketchily impressionistic. (But, then again, this was not the story the author set out to tell.) Still, as one who loved Paton's 'Cry the Beloved County,' I was pleased to have read this, his second novel. ( )