By OMOSEYE BOLAJI
Every so often in our continent, genuine, sterling literary talent emerges whether it is from Nigeria – a formidable land of literary aficionados – or South Africa here. These days, it is even easier to foretell the advent of such outstanding writers, thanks to improved technology like the internet.
Hence, there was no need to be a transcendental soothsayer to realise that South African writer, Deon-Simphiwe Skade has that special stuff that separates the wheat from the chaff as it were, in respect of literature. Over the last few years, Mr Skade, who is still a young man, has been churning out superb reviews of both books and music.
His perspicacious reviews were always far-removed from the mundane; he somehow fuses a great, avid knowledge of eclectic literature with philosophical divulgations and effusions, interspersed with what South Africans call Ubuntu (humaneness)
The corollary of this is that when Deon published his first book a week or so again in South Africa, there was some fizz, enthusiasm and delectation amidst the literary fraternity, both black and white. The pundits knew instinctively that the book would be good.
On my own part, I was preparing to get a copy for myself when I got a pleasant surprise from Deon. He had mailed a copy of his book to me from his Cape Town base the moment it was published! In his "artistic" way he called it "a belated birthday gift" for me! And how welcome and tantalising the gift was!
Meanwhile, the pundits were already burrowing into his book and essentially favourably reviewing his debut work. Deon’s book is a collection of well-written short stories jostling alongside complementary poems. Titles are: An old flame that went out, My Epidemic, your Epidemic, Last Night, It’s a Secret, Class Act, Her Attitude, His Face Others are - A Broken Man, Matters of the Heart, In Need, Yesterday, Suspension, Time Keeps Its Own Time, It never rains but Pours, and Our Today, The Future.
The disparate stories here are essentially told in the first person, with the author showing astonishing skill and empathy with his characters, male and female. Arguably, this reaches a peak in the story, Class Act.
The author is famed for his propensity to call himself a "dreamer" in real life; and dreams certainly loom large in this work. The pertinent question is: Are they successfully integrated into the warp and weft of the stories? Here, one might well be subjective, adumbrating the furore over the late Lenrie Peter’s work, The second round with its profusion of dream-like sequences...and of course, Ayi Kwei Armah’ s early classic, the Beautyful ones are not yet born.
Then there is the hilarious, finely written story, Last Night. It is also tinged with irony, and redolent with sexual undercurrents. And how’s this for a touch of the great D.H Lawrence:
"The moon watched us caress. It lit over the perfect world of perfect persons, a man and a beautiful woman under its unwinking stare and the stars who winked as if celebrating our glorious kiss. Table Mountain could have peeked over the balcony to witness us under the conspiratorial luminescence of the moon."
(Page 28, A Series of undesirable events)
As one would expect from a grammarian like the author, and a fastidious craftsman to boot, the book is well edited and immensely readable, with fine descriptions. How about “the ping-ping against the porcelain." "The gulp I took snailed down my throat as if it was a hard bubble constrained by meagre space preventing it to move downwards,"…
A very impressive debut work.
