1st pub 1937, 1938 Random House. ( )

When I was in Africa ... I saw the film Out of Africa a couple of years ago, what a beautiful film, so was curious to see her life in Africa through her own eyes. This is her life in Kenya on a cotton plantation, her relationships with those living around her, servants, the blacksmith and the 'squatters'. A lot of examples of the differences between the white settlers and the Kikuyu and Masai, but also of the similarities of man.

She obviously loved the land, its people and nature, but the one thing missing is who Blixen really was. We get glimpses of her, reflected as if through a mirror, in her stories of others ( )

This is a marvellous book, but not for the fast-living, easy to be distracted consumption reader who is simply in it for superficial kicks or obvious references to the well-known movie (including a heroic love story). The beauty, for a large part, lies in the patient descriptions of Africa and depth of the reflections. Or, as the writer herself could have said it: being able to observe the raw realities of life, and understand its laws or conditions, one must not be naïve or arrogant, but know the full extent of it, and accept it even if it isn’t liked. And ‘knowing the full extend’, is here a tour de force that is both intimidating and hopeful.
What you get is an account of a long lost era, a world that is no more, having been swept away by the tides of time, capitalist modes of living and trends towards global uniformity. A whole era of ideas and lifestyles, both indigenous and western, that was already disappearing in the years that Karen Blixen lived on her African farm, is now completely gone, but somehow survives on the pages of this book. And while Blixen herself is conscious of this change, regrets the destruction, and is unable to resist moods of melancholy all the time, she doesn’t fall in the trap of easy sentimentality. On the contrary, she is a sharp observer and a true positivist, who combines the social eye of the anthropologist and the efficient, beautiful writing of the novelist.
For the modern reader who has become used to the simplistic, self-centred rhetoric of commentators, politicians, and experts, it is refreshing to read about colonialist procedures, the confrontation between cultures, religious strive, where in the analysis there is still room for subtlety, amazement, understanding, and acceptance of difference. For example, one is likely to learn more about the peculiar complexity of moslim gender roles in Africa by reading Karen Blixen’s portrayal of Somali women than one would from the prejudiced and angry stereotyping that comes with contemporary ‘pamphleteers’ such as Ayaan Hirsi Ali.
But what makes the book outstanding, beyond its many and accurate social commentaries, is the emotion that drives it. The story is inhabited by a song, a dance of characters –one of it is nature, the landscape – and each and every one of them finds a place in the heart of the reader. When at last Karen Blixen has to leave her farm and Africa, one has the feeling that the loss is not just hers, but of everyone – European and African – who for a time lived on that farm near the Ngong Hills.
Because the story ends badly, the end of the book is heartbreaking. But Karen Blixen is too good a writer to pass up the opportunity for creating one lasting image. When being forced to accept the depressing state of her affairs, with the implication of an inevitable departure back to Denmark, she is able to turn this unwanted destiny into something more deep and reassuring: “It was not I who was going away. I did not have it in my power to leave Africa, but it was the country that was slowly and gravely withdrawing from me, like the sea in ebb-tide.”

All this reader can think of is that without such a pitiful withdrawal, perhaps this beautiful book would never have seen the light. ( )

I have mixed feelings about this author's memoir of her time on a coffee farm in the Ngong hills, Kenya in the early 1900's. A non-chronologic telling of many tales from her time in Africa and finally about her bittersweet departure. Mostly beautifully wriiten, the prose is very evocative of the land, although at times trending toward mawkish and overly mystical.

It is written during the time of colonialism and Ms. Blixen is quite paternalistic toward 'the coloured races". While I have no doubt she loved and respected the Kenyan people - frankly, many of her comments were clearly racist by today's standards. I am also troubled by her attitude toward the animals. In one breath she lauds the majesty of the elephant, the giraffe, the lion. The next, seemingly without remorse, she shoots said lion, describes how it falls, skins it and then proceeds to toss back some wine and dates - supremely happy with life. Oh and by the way, this lovely skin will make a great cape for Lord Hoity-Toity. There are many such scenes that were almost unbearable for me to read.

Overall, this was a worthy read. I am left with some conflicting emotions about the author for sure. And I can't say I always found this an enjoyable or engaging read - but in the end quite powerful and sad. ( )

Excellent