Fiction and Nonfiction Reviews
White Schooldays: Coming-of-Age In Apartheid South Africa
by Isme Bennie.
South Carolina, USA: CreateSpace, 2014
166 pp, $26.00
White Schooldays, portions of which were previously published in Maple Tree Literary Supplement, is Isme Bennie’s public offering of her personal story and contributes to our understanding of a troubled country. Don’t expect a thorough reckoning of the sins and scars of South African society in the 1940s and 50s however. Instead the author, a white Jewish South African, presents a realistic, sometimes apologetic and often sentimental memoir. Comprised of a collection of short chapters covering a litany of topics, from neighbourhood activities to fashion, food and friends, Bennie frequently acknowledges the privilege she and other white people experienced under the apartheid regime. Black South Africans are depicted as existing in the shadows, living ‘elsewhere’ and only appearing among whites in subservient positions.
The author’s occasional poems lift her straight-forward rendering to a lyrical sphere: “Monday is washing day/Emily arrives/Baby tied to her back/She sorts the clothes/White/Coloured/Black/She hangs them in the sun to dry/They do not touch/The colours must not run.
Several of Bennie’s anecdotes point to the irrational rules of a racist regime. It was illegal for her parents to allow servants’ children to live with them, for instance, though they ignored this law without paying a penalty. Chinese residents were considered ‘colored’ and Japanese residents were not. Even a foot bridge was subject to segregation as ‘whites only’ tread across the stream on a designated bridge, while blacks crossed on another.
“In the first three years of high school, we were taught the basics of managing servants,” Bennie also remembers. “As most white South African families had at least one, even at age thirteen or so.”
Life in Vereeniging, Bennie’s hometown, is nevertheless described with a deep affection, despite the injustices swirling around its inhabitants. Bennie remembers the town’s fish-and-chips shops, Greek cafes and food such as Pannekoek—very thin crepes served with sugar and cinnamon. She remembers a car trip with family to nearby town to see England’s touring Royal Family in 1947. Bennie also recounts kind teachers who inspired her and others who hit students with rulers. Attending an English language school, she still learned the second official language, Afrikaans, permitted after the British defeated the Dutch colonists many decades ago in the Boer War.
The author awakened to apartheid through reading books, travel to England, and studies at University of the Witwatersrand in South Africa. Bennie embarks on an career as a librarian and later in the media, her broader understanding of racism also informed by her minority status as a Jew and the fact her ancestors immigrated from East Europe to escape pogroms.
Eventually Bennie moved to Canada, as did many of her white co-patriots. She maintained strong ties to old friends and family, some still living in South Africa and has a keen interest in coming of age stories among her generation. In closing Bennie applauds an apartheid-free South Africa, but is also concerned about the on-going social violence. She regrets the deprivations the majority black population have endured and wishes they had always had equal opportunities. Most significantly, Bennie values her past and in doing so, has woven her own stories in to South Africa’s history.
The Bastard of Fort Stikine: The Hudson’s Bay Company and the Murder of John McLoughlin, Jr.
by Debra Komar
Fredericton, NB: Goose Lane, 2015
288 pages, $19.95
Who knew the history of the North America fur trade could be so riveting? In the hands of former forensic anthropologist Debra Komar, readers will be spellbound as the author unravels an unsolved murder case occurring at a Hudson’s Bay Company post in 1842.
This is Komar’s third true crime book and hopefully not her last. Her winning formula involves searching for a long forgotten cold case with plenty of historical documentation. This book has over 200 footnotes, her research benefiting from the rich archives of the HBC. After presenting the evidence in compelling story-form, Komar invites the reader to consider her theories as to ‘who did it’ and why. Expect her keen social justice lens in the story’s telling too. In this case Komar describes the rough justice of frontier society in the 1840s, as the British-based capitalist fur company, established in 1670, continued to dominate regions of North America.
The murder of chief factor John McLoughlin Jr. at Fort Stikine has been mentioned in academic accounts, highlighting the lawlessness of remote regions and as part of a profile of the victim’s father, of the same name, who was a long-serving, influential HBC chief factor. No author has provided a critical and detailed examination of the criminal incident however—until now.
The actual murder of John McLoughlin Jr. is a compelling and relatively brief tale, which Komar reveals in small portions at the beginning of chapters, while telling a larger story. She describes McLoughlin Jr.’s tumultuous early years. His British-born father took a ‘country wife,’ as female indigenous partners were referred to, and so McLoughlin Jr. was of mixed ancestry. McLoughlin Sr. rarely spent time with his son, due to his HBC work. His paternal neglect would come to haunt him.
McLoughlin Jr. eventually finds his way, after several years of irresponsible behavior, when given employment in the HBC, culminating in a position as chief factor at Fort Stikine. The Alaskan-based fort—which no longer exists—was situated along the ‘panhandle,’ on a muddy shoreline and under Russian rule. It’s wood-built interior takes on gloomy cast as the author describes the claustrophobic conditions of the men and the remoteness of the location. These factors as well as the racial and social inequities experienced by the HBC staff, play a role in the ensuing murder. Add to this toxic mix, an HBC stock room full of liquor and men with criminal pasts permitted in to HBC’s employ.
Night had fallen on the fort when shots rang out on April 21, 1842. McLoughlin Jr. was killed by a single bullet in the back. HBC Governor John Simpson, known for his rigid command, happened to arrive to the fort soon after, as part of his routine inspections. He conducted a cursory inquiry of the incident and pronounced McLoughlin Jr.’s death a ‘justifiable homicide.’ Simpson’s findings would be strenuously challenged by the victim’s father in the years to come. A trial never occurred.
Komar’s evidence includes critical eyewitnesses accounts. She concludes by reconstructing the events, along with peoples’ motives, on that fateful night. At narration’s end, the reader is left with some closure and some loose ends. We are also left to ponder timeless themes, such as the power of the grief a father holds over losing his son, compounded by the tragic circumstances of the offspring’s death. The roots of modern Canada and the people who built this country are presented with a realistic—sometimes chilling—perspective too. Readers may never regard the history of the fur trade as “stuffy” again.
