I think I read all of the novels Andre Brink wrote about South Africa and the tragedy of apartheid. They were all almost unbearably poignant. moving and powerful. An Instant in the Wind, A Chain of Voices, and others whose titles I have forgotten. I haven't forgotten the passion with which Brink wrote about injustice, but also about the hold that South Africa, uniquely, seems to have on the minds, hearts and souls of all the people that live there. I can't really put it into words, you'll have to read the books for yourself to see what I mean.The Other Side of Silence is set, not in South Africa, but in German South West Africa (which eventually became Namibia) and although there is still much about the disgraceful way the indigenous people of Africa were treated by European settlers, it's central thesis is about man's inhumanity to women. The story is based on an unknown (to me) piece of history about women from Germany being shipped over to this colony as potential wives for the male settlers.The first part of the book is harrowing in the extreme. The central character in the story does not even have a surname, being known throughout as Hanna X. In a sense, this helps to confirm her as a representative of all abused women. We are shown in a series of flashbacks how Hannah X came to travel to Africa, flashbacks which are interspersed with the horrors of what happens to her there. I thought the layer upon layer of horrors was a bit overdone, though, and I couldn't rid myself of the thought that a woman as intelligent as Hanna could have had other options, though I am not sure what these might have been. I thought the parallel between Hanna's 'campaign' and that of Jeanne d'Arc, a childhood idol of Hanna's was quite deftly handled, though it made it obvious that things would not end well. I couldn't fault Brink's writing skill, he is a very good writer. I just think something was missing that I had much admired about the previous novels of his that I have read; passion and intimacy with his subject perhaps. I think this is because German South West Africa (or Namibia) isn't South Africa, and because Andre Brink isn't a woman. Nevertheless, I found this a worthwhile read.
The other side of silence is … violence, or as the author himself states on page 137, a result of that “incidental little appendage” to the male anatomy. This is a book filled with rape and blood. So unless you’re brimming with rage and hurt, it will be a pointless read. The covers of both the Afrikaans and the English versions depict one of the houses along the Skeleton Coast at Kolmanskop, Namibia. German troops tried to conquer “South West Africa” (better known as Namibia today) around 1885-1910, when Hanna X, a white German in the middle of the desert, tells her devastating story. Or maybe it’s merely the story imposed on her by a white male writer, whom we could call Don Quixote. A single metaphor from the book gives Brink the credence one reads about in the media, when Kahapa (Hanna’s black accomplice) disappears behind the “white scar of a house against the night’s black skin”. As the desert devours the house on the cover, so Africa gorges on its imperialists. Because of the way they impose themselves on the country (and on women), this cannot happen without revenge.PS: Certain theorists view The Other Side of Silence as an act of penance on Brink’s behalf. Should this hold true, taking his affair with Ingrid Jonker into account, her poem I am with those ( … who abuse sex / because the individual doesn’t count / … / [forget] about love it has no right.) cuts to the bone. The question even arises whether Jonker could be placed in the garb of Hanna X and Brink that of Heinrich Böhlke.
Do You like book The Other Side Of Silence (2004)?
A shattering tale of misogyny and imperialism, the book follows Hannah X in a struggle for personhood against the odds of violent patriarchy and in the face of racism and colonialism. Some will be put off by the fact that Hannah only encounters one man who does not try to debauch the women around them, but it seems like a realistic if harrowing portrayal of unchecked power, which is likely to be exploited by anyone who possesses it alongside a dehumanization of the other. Hannah's rebellion is extreme and not for the faint of heart.
—Jessie
A great mixture of narrative and lyrics. A great story of sorrow and revenge.Chapter 19:The wind. The wind always comes from >i< somewhere else.>/i< At night in the orphanage, slowly retreating from the edge of death, she lies listening to the comforting sound of her friend, the wind. She must have been very small when she first became aware of it. She was suffering from a bad cold and couldn't sleep; and all the time the wind was there to keep her company. In the morning she told Frau Agathe, 'The wind has a cold too, I could hear her sniffling all night.'And Frau Agathe replied, 'If you can think up such nonsense you're not sick any more. So get up, make your bed and go and weed the garden.'Ever since then she has been thinking about going on a journey to find out where the wind comes from. The far side of the wind would also be the other side of silence.
—Steven Buechler
there aren't many novels that revolt me, turn my stomach, and make me so sad i question even going on with this farce we call life on earth. this one is like that. hahaha, very powerful story of German lady who fights back against German military and white colonists doing so many unspeakable things in Namibia (South-West Africa is what they called it). you can tell that the Germans would later have no trouble whatsoever being Nazis in their own home. This is the second novel that has disturbed me to my core, and both have be written by South Africans. not sure what that's about. (the other was called "disgrace" by coetzee) andre brink is the devil.
—Tuck
