Redeeming Features
by Denis Beckett
(Penguin)
I am told by my sources in the CIA that the real motto of the company is ”And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall piss you off!” For some reason or other, I found myself thinking about this while reading Denis Beckett’s latest book.
Perhaps the part of the book that most evoked these thoughts was his chapter, ”What Else?” — and the later reflections he makes on it. In this chapter, Beckett draws a fictional scenario where his alter ego, Zed, reflects on life in the new South Africa — on crime, corruption, mismanagement, economic and social decay, patriotism and post-1994 hope, despair and the ever-present dilemma of many white (and, increasingly, some black) South Africans over emigrating.
What, asks Beckett, has gone wrong? To answer he proposes the outlines of a book suggesting that the reason for Africa’s general malaise has been the well-meaning but misguided pursuit of ”empowerment” policies — policies that reflected the need for post-colonial social improvement but led, instead, to incompetence and mismanagement.
Many contemporary policies in South Africa, he suggests, are going in the same direction. A new, more cautious approach may, in the long term, be more effective and less damaging to many young black professionals thrown in at the deep end of affirmative action. Often, he suggests, it is almost as if their bosses expect them to fail.
It takes a certain chutzpah to put into print such observations. Beckett opens himself wide to allegations of racism. Indeed, some observers who read this part of his manuscript say so, directly or in so many words. Some say: ”We know you’re right, but you can’t say it” (a nod to political correctness and the fact that Beckett is white). Others are just plain scandalised. He is told that, ultimately, the project is impossible — or at least inopportune.
What is Beckett doing here? Beyond whatever truth might exist in his hypothetical book’s thesis, he is pointing to a deeper problem in our society: honesty, the capacity to speak the truth, even if it is unfashionable and, as cynics in the CIA would say, it pisses you off. And I think it’s clear that this unwillingness to engage in a completely open and honest search for truth pisses Beckett off. As well it might. As, perhaps, it should all of us.
In between these contentious pieces are a number of, on the surface, more ”conventional” writings. We read of Beckett’s walkabout in Cato Manor, his observations of small businesses, local characters and the complexities of economic development in the area. This is vintage Beckett, filled with gentle yet penetrating observation of persons that one expects.
Similarly, there is a delightful account of his relationship over a number of years with his famous second cousin, the playwright Samuel Beckett — whose eccentricities and contrarian nature makes our author seem, by comparison, like a praise singer to President Thabo Mbeki. And there is also a moving account of the evolution of South Africans’ feeling for our new flag — an amusing little love story that reminded me of a kind of political When Harry Met Sally.
Like many of the best essayists around, Beckett’s greatest strength — apart from his style — is his ability to engage, encage, confuse and bemuse. Even as one may shake one’s head with disapproval, one cannot but turn the page. Having noted that, I think Beckett — whose tone has become far more serious than in previous books — has made some important social comments here that deserve our attention.
And, yes, perhaps Beckett should write that blasted book, even if it makes us uneasy.