Ah, But Your Land is Beautiful

The more works by Alan Paton that I read, the more I realize I never really understood his place in literature. He is not one of the world’s greatest writers; he is, however, one of the world’s great voices. Paton believed very deeply in opposing apartheid and his works are a monument to that belief. None of his books rank as extraordinary literature but all of them are important and all of them share his extraordinary and deeply felt passion. This book shows South Africa in the mid-1950s and it gains enormous power from its dual focus: an overview of apartheid nationally and small scenes that illustrate the meaning of that overview with extraordinary potency. Inhumanity and injustice on a nationwide scale becomes real and show more meaningful when well-chosen “little” acts illustrate bare facts. Acts of ordinary people, acts that spring from honest intentions and not what we now call "virtue-signaling," assume powerful significance here. The book excels at small acts, on both sides. Some are motivated by genuine humility and the acknowledgment of humanity of others, some do not. Ah, But Your Land Is Beautiful is heavily factual. Paton relies on newspaper reports, correspondence, press releases, dialogue, and other methods. He includes real people and real events. The story is told by a number of different characters with different viewpoints; some story lines intersect, some don’t. But the book vividly, painfully recreates life and lives. Time and again I found myself stopping to look up a person or an event to learn more. Like everything of Paton’s that I have read, this is not a book I recommend for his exceptional literary qualities, although he is certainly an excellent writer. It is rather a book I consider essential for anyone who believes in humanity (both literally and figuratively). Given present circumstances in the United States, I’d say it’s a very timely book. show less

A brilliant book by the writer of 'Cry, the Beloved Country.' This one is told from varying viewpoints, sometimes as letters, sometimes as conversation, sometimes as newspaper reports, and from all sorts of narrators. There's the "Proud Christian Woman" who writes nasty letters to anyone she disapproves of. There's the Afrikaner civil servant who stick to the party line as long as possible. There's the Indian family whose daughter is making a stand against discrimination which will certainly end in violence.

I knew almost nothing about South African history before I read this book, but I found myself swept up in the story and the emotion. Compelling storytelling and a heartbreaking setting make this one of my top reads for the year.

CMB