Rozena Maart’s newest novel opens with a rape that occurs in front of a home in Cape Town, one where five women gather every Friday night in the safety of a gated neighbourhood to discuss writing. As in her previous novel, Rosa’s District 6, Maart perfectly evokes the daily lives of South Africans. However, this time her novel centers on the horrendous and at times banal violence that besieges Cape Town women.
The scene takes place in a car outfitted with myriad electronic gadgets that could ostensibly protect its occupants. The car also contains a copy of the daily newspaper featuring a story of the South African deputy president’s rape charges. These details contextualize the violence faced by many South African girls and women, regardless of their class, race or social position.
The writing circle provides a cathartic outlet for the sorrows in modern-day South Africa, where the promises of a post-apartheid world have yet to be realized. Maart convincingly inhabits her disparate female protagonists. Through their narratives, we follow their views of one another as they describe their individual life stories. In the aftermath of this event, the women unite to protect their friend. However, the aftermath also triggers the unravelling of each woman’s fragile veneer. Each is aware of the casual chaos and violence that lurks everywhere, but it is in the telling of their own tragedies and secrets that Maart’s sad outrage is keenly observed.
The women’s plight is conveyed with moving immediacy, and the precise account of being female in a misogynist world sparks outrage. In an ideal world, this form of storytelling could mobilize political forces to take a moral and courageous stand against the insidious violence that besieges women throughout the world.
In the meantime, Maart challenges our deepest preconceptions about everything South African—and manages to convey a remarkable resilience.
