The Voluptuous Delights of Peanut Butter and Jam

Synopsis: Nyree and Cia live on a remote farm in the east of what was Rhodesia in the late 1970s. Beneath the dripping vines of the Vumba rainforest, and under the tutelage of their heretical gradfather, theirs is a seductive childhood laced with African paganism, mangled Catholicism and the lore of the Brothers Grimm. Their world extends as far as the big fence, erected to keep out the 'Terrs' whom their father is off fighting. The two girls know little beyong that until the arrival from the outside world of 'the b*stard', their orphaned cousin Ronin, who is to poison their idyll for ever.

Review: This is one of my most favourite recent reads. Told from the viewpoint of nine year old Nyree. It's one of the most evocative, vivid, enchanting, tales of childhood that I've ever read.

Nyree and her sister Cia are inseparable. Great friends and playmates. Being older, Nyree is the natural leader and Cia is the more sweeter and shyer of the two. They don't look that much alike, Cia being the cuter and they have their own individual style even when it comes down to eating.

'The two of us are sitting on the flagstone steps outside the kitchen door eating our peanut butter and jam sandwiches. Cia peels hers apart, as she always does, and slowly licks out the filling, while I squash the slices of bread together between my palms until they turn doughy and ooze peanut butter and jam goo, then gulp it down. Sometimes we take tea like the Afs do, dunking our sandwiches into our green enamel mugs, then taking a dripping bite, followed by a swig, which we swill around in our mouths before swallowing. It's called mixing cement and we aren't allowed to mix cement. If we get caught, Mum hollers at us not to be so disgusting all our disgusting little lives.'

They live in a farmhouse built by their great grandfather. The name of the house is Modjaji which means rain goddess and it's slowly rotting away around them. The terraced gardens which are carved into the mountainside are unruly and lush, as they climb higher they merge and tangle into the virgin forest which is full of tree pythons, insects, slithering and creeping creatures, rotting tree trunks, fungus spores and dead Shangani warriors. Their grandfather Oupa calls it Paradise Lost and it's Nyree and Cia's favourite place to explore.

'Though we live in a world laced with threads of magic, triflings like tooth mice and firefly fairies pale next to the powerful magic that dwells in the forest. When Cia and I enter it's unending twilight, the earthly gives way to the unearthly, to the ethereal. As the canopy of trees close over us we can hear the heavy boughs whispering ancient secrets to one another, just as they do in the tales of the Faraway Tree, and we can feel hidden eyes on us with every footfall. Shrouded in the forest, we are lifted above the grubbiness of chicken slaughters, of peanut butter and jam, and are allowed to enter another world - one where things flit on gossamer wings and anything is a mere wish away'.

Mum is often busy with her farming accounts and Dad is off fighting the Terrs and so to a large extent Nyree and Cia are left to their own devices. Oupa is meant to supervise and help them with homework but more often than not he sit's on the stoep, swilling gin and tonic, sermonizing about duty and damnation, cursing his dead brother Seamus and bragging about his cast-iron constitution. They have a secret hideout and have plans to take a night flight to Fairyland, midnight explorations are a favourite thing and so is anything forbidden like riffling through Mum's dressing table drawers and snooping in the attic. Cia claims to have seen the Wombles climbing the house drainpipe one night, but they were Wombles-Gone-Bad and were coming to get her. Their dad once told them that when he was a child he awoke to find that his toys had come alive. Nyree wishes for this very much and prays to Jesus, she suspects that Cia has jinxed it though because she is terrified of her beloved toys being bewitched and has probably prayed accordingly. They spend summer days crocodiling through the waterhole built by their Dad and basking like hippo's. And all of this is played out amongst the backdrop of the political unrest in Rhodesia.

Life seems fairly idyllic to Nyree and Cia, They would prefer it if Oupa didn't sermonize so much and father wasn't off fighting the Terrs but on the whole everything is peachy ... until Ronin comes to stay. They are told that Ronin is their cousin and is boarding at school but will, from now on, stay with them in the holidays. Initially they are pleased ... 'There are few things as interesting as strangers on the farm, and none so interesting as the ones who look like Prince Charming, are sodden with scandal and disgrace and are real live descendants of Great Uncle Seamus' ... but Ronin's behaviour soon unsettles them. He is aloof, resentful and impolite (except to their Mother who he seems intent on charming) and his Prince Charming looks fade until he resembles nothing more than a blonde Barbie doll, girlish and vacant. His behaviour worsens becoming spiteful and sadistic but although this is witnessed by Nyree and Cia they are threatened with violence into keeping quiet.

The only part of the book that I felt uncomfortable with, was the shocking poverty of the local black Africans, and the racist viewpoint of most of the white people including Nyree and Cia. But Nyree was only repeating things she had learnt or overheard and she obviously had great affection for the family's black servants. Plus I imagine that this is a fairly accurate portrayal of how most white people thought and felt back in 1970's Rhodesia and it would have been disingenuous to represent it in any other way. There is a glossary at the back to help translate some of the slang Rhodesian/Afrikaan words used.

A magical, enchanting story of childhood.

Purple Hibiscus (Audiobook)

Synopsis: The limits of 15-year-old Kambili's world are defined by the high walls of her family estate and the dictates of her repressive and fanatically religious father. Her life is regulated by schedules: prayer, sleep, study, and more prayer. When Nigeria begins to fall apart during a military coup, Kambili's father, involved mysteriously in the political crisis, sends Kambili and her brother away to live with their aunt. In this house, full of energy and laughter, she discovers life and love - and a terrible, bruising secret deep within her family.

Review: Tyrannically religious fathers have become a bit of an unintentional theme in my reading matter lately, and I hated this one even more than I hated Nathan Price in The Poisonwood Bible, which I had thought was impossible.

Kambili is fifteen and she lives in Nigeria with her father Eugene, mother Beatrice and older brother Jaja. Kambili and Jaja are very studious, they are grade A students and always come top of the class. When Kambili learns she has come second in the end of term test she is frightened to take her report card home - and with good reason, her father doesn't accept second best. Eugene dishes out the 'it's for your own good' style of vindictive punishment on his children and wife with increasing regularity and severity and yet, as is often the case, he is a highly respected and revered man in the local community. He's generous with his wealth and politically active, he owns a newspaper which commits itself to telling the truth about the corruption in Nigeria and is an award winning human rights activist.

On their rare visits to see their grandfather Papa Nnukwu, Kambili and Jaja are only allowed to stay fifteen minutes. Eugene considers his own father a heathen because he has not yet converted to the Catholic faith. They are not allowed to eat or drink anything at his home. It put me in mind of Harriet Smith's visits to the Martins in Emma, the shortness and awkwardness of the visit makes it almost an insult. Their grandfather however, is always pleased to see them and tries to make them as welcome and at ease as he can.

Kambili is withdrawn, devout and serious. In spite of his strict regime she loves her father, he is severe and judgmental yet also loving and affectionate, especially after meting out punishment. She understands that everything he does is for the good of God, the family and community.

By some miracle Eugene's sister Ifeoma, manages to persuade him to let Kambili and Jaja come to stay with her and their cousins. Compared to Kambili, her cousins are quite poor and live in cramped conditions but they are noisy, happy and sociable. The visit turns out to be quite a revelation for them, initially they are sent to their aunt's with their study schedules neatly written out by their father. These schedules allow only half an hour each day to be spent socialising with their cousins and aunt. Thankfully, Aunt Ifeoma confiscates the schedules until the end of the trip (I found a knot growing in my stomach about this, I was as worried about the lack of study time and possible lower test placings as they were I think) and instead they are encouraged to read, watch TV, play cards, argue, cook and garden. At first the cousins regard Kambili as a bit of a snob, because she has known no other life she is not at first aware that she needs to help with cooking or chores etc, this isn't helped by her seriousness. However, eventually they begin to understand and love her.

Whilst they are staying at their aunt's, their grandfather Papa Nnukwu, is taken ill and their aunt goes to fetch him to bring him home to stay with her. This places Kambili and Jaja in a difficult situation, they are not supposed to spend this amount of time with their grandfather, or eat and drink with him. Kambili struggles with her conscience as she determines whether she should mention this to her father during their daily phone calls, in the end she doesn't (this gave me knots as well) she begins to love listening to Papa Nnukwu's stories and watching his little rituals. Another guest that frequents the house is the handsome priest Father Amadi, he takes a shine to Kambili (much to her cousins amusement) and does his best to draw her out, taking her to play sports and generally trying to make her participate more and laugh, before she knows it Kambili begins to fall in love with him.

But there are dark times ahead. Their father finds out about Papa Nnukuwu with terrifying results (he seemed to have a touch of the Mrs Danvers about him, magically appearing in or just outside the room, just as the characters are revealing or discussing something which they don't want him to know). Kambili is our narrator, and you really do feel for her. You long for her to just do something reckless but you fear for her at the same time. She is so painfully withdrawn and lives with such love for and dread of her papa that it is very affecting. You find yourself hoping against hope that Jaja, who has grown increasingly more resentful, will eventually snap and give his father back some of his own medicine.

The only thing I wasn't keen on was the narration (Lisette sounded far too middle aged and white to be a fifteen year old Nigerian girl) and the sound quality - too much heavy breathing and swallowing. I would much rather have read this particular book.

The Poisonwood Bible (Audiobook)

Synopsis: The Poisonwood Bible is a story told by the wife and four daughters of Nathan Price, a fierce evangelical Baptist who takes his family and mission to the Belgian Congo in 1959. They carry with them all they believe they will need from home, but soon find that all of it - from garden seeds to Scripture - is calamitously transformed on African soil. This tale of one family's tragic undoing and remarkable reconstruction, over the course of three decades in postcolonial Africa, is set against history's most dramatic political parables. The Poisonwood Bible dances between the darkly comic human failings and inspiring poetic justices of our times. In a compelling exploration of religion, conscience, imperialist arrogance, and the many paths to redemption, Barbara Kingsolver has brought forth her most ambitious work ever.

Review: I really loved listening to this one, Dean Robertson's narration was just spot on .. even though she did not alter her voice much for each of the girls, she was totally convincing.

Nathan Price is an American baptist preacher who takes his wife, Orleanna, and his four daughters, Rachel, Adah, Leah and Ruth May to the Congo to try and convert the 'tribes of Ham'. Orleanna narrates the first chapter in the present day, she is back home in America, and you can tell that something terrible happened during her time in Africa, something she is struggling to come to terms with.

The book is then alternately narrated by Orleanna and the four girls. We are taken right back to their arrival in the fictional village of Kalinga in the Belgian Congo. Whatever their pre-conceived ideas were of life in the Congo, they soon find out that it is much worse than they have been supposing. Disease, sickness and poverty are widespread, and then there's also the stifling heat and mosquitoes. They are fairly stuck in their own ways and at first are reluctant to take advice from the villagers about cooking and planting etc ... they had actually brought Betty Crocker cake mixes with them which failed miserably ... but soon come to realise that their Georgia way of life was not going to work here.

Nathan Price is a hellfire and brimstone kind of preacher, he wants to claim the village of Kalinga for Jesus. He's a bully, he accepts no other opinions or viewpoints other than his own and rules over his family with a rod of iron. His particular brand of bible bashing is never going to win over any converts. He has no respect for the Congolese or their ancient beliefs, they are just souls to be saved and he is determined to do it. He's the sort of fanatical religious nutjob that Louis Theroux would want to film a documentary about.

Their eldest daughter is Rachel, she's blonde, pretty and materialistic. All she can think about is herself and the life she's left behind. She could be attending dances or going on shopping trips to the mall to look at the latest fashions. Instead she is sweating, sweltering and eating inedible food, probably all to the detriment of her complexion, it fair makes her mad with rage! Her first words about the Congo are 'Man oh man, we are in for it now'. Like her father she has no respect for the villagers, she looks down on them but for different reasons. As soon as she is able (she's fifteen) she is hotfooting it back to the land of the free. She's a lot like Amy in 'Little Women' only Amy got more sensible as she got older, Rachel never does.

Next in line is fourteen year old Leah, and in a way she's probably the principle narrator of the book, the one we learn most from or perhaps I viewed it that way because she became my favourite. When we are first introduced to Leah she's a bit of a Daddy's girl, she has a kind of idealistic view of him and what he's trying to do and she fervently supports him. It's Leah's compassionate nature that mistakenly leads her to think that her father is doing all he can for the villagers. As time passes, and she observes her father more closely, she starts to question his behaviour and her admiration turns to disgust. She also becomes aware of the political situation between the Congo and the USA as the Congo heads towards independence, as far as she can make out, the truth doesn't reflect well on her homeland and those in office.

Adah is Leah's twin, but an accident at birth has left her with a physical disability, she's also mute. She's the reverse of her twin, where Leah is positive, Adah is negative and looks at life backwards. Adah's disability becomes less obvious in the Congo amongst the natives who have more than their fair share of mutilated limbs and disfigurements, where she would be stared at at home her disability is hardly noticed here. She loves words and wordplay, especially palindromes, she likes to repeat the line ... 'live was I ere I saw evil' (repeat it to us that is). She has a poetic way of thinking and her favourite author is Emily Dickinson.

Ruth May is the youngest, she is just five years old when they reach the Congo and is lively, confident and playful. She's the one that connects best with the local people, especially the children. Before long she has them all lined up playing 'Mother May I'. She's also the glue that holds the family together during those first few months in the Congo.

Because of what amounts to a confession in Orleanna's opening chapter, you know something bad is coming. The book feels like it's building towards some great calamity (if it was a film the cello's would be working overtime). At several points you think that calamity has arrived but no, somehow it's resolved or averted until you finally get to the part where the tragedy takes place. I found this hard to take in, I thought it might be another red herring but sadly it wasn't. The fall out from this tragedy is just as interesting as the build up, the family end up scattered and each has to come to terms, or not, in their own way.

I loved listening to it, Barbara Kingsolver has brought all the sights, smells, culture, nature, flora and fauna of life in the Congo alive. I thought all the characters were well fleshed out even Nathan, who never speaks to us directly. Within a very short space of time I knew him well enough to know I hated him! I loved the fact that each of the girls and Orleanna narrated in turn, you got to know them inside out. The one thing I wasn't keen on was, what I thought was overuse of Rachel's malapropisms, at one point they were coming thick and fast with every sentence. But for the most part they did make me laugh .. she talks about Moses coming down from 'Mount Cyanide' for instance.

Nathan was too indifferent to learn the Kikongo language properly, he didn't allow for their words to have multiple meanings or for different pronunciations. His biggest disaster, during a sermon, was when instead of saying 'Jesus is precious' he actually said 'Jesus is poisonous' .. hence the book title. Adah points this out to us, her love of language makes her fairly fluent in Kikongo, though non verbally. She looks upon her fathers efforts with amusement and disdain.

As always with audiobooks part of the enjoyment is hearing a great story narrated brilliantly. How I would have got on with it had I tried to read it (which I almost did because it came home from the library with me once but I ran out of time) I don't know, I hope I would still have got as much enjoyment from it.