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Having read and enjoyed JM Coetzee's bleak "Disgrace" I found Brink's novel in a second hand shop and went to work. In subject matter it is a blending of two Patrick White novels - "Voss" about a doomed journey to the (Australian) interior, and "A Fringe of Leaves" about a white woman's life among Aborigines after a 19th Century shipwreck.
In Brink's hands, in 1750, a naive but spirited white woman from the Cape accompanies her Swedish explorer husband into the upmapped interior, only to find herself alone when the husband dies and the Hottentot retainers head for the hills.
She is found by a runaway slave, Adam, who for reasons of his own agrees to set off with her to the Cape.
Brink vividly describes the country through which they must travel. Against its physical presence, the couple become lovers. All of this is good fun. Brink was writing at a time when black/white relationships were forbidden under apartheid law. Indeed, the book for a while was banned. He delivers us a vintage love story, full of sex and spirit. (Funny how Coetzee, 25 years later when inter-racial sex is no longer verboten, sees the politics of such relationships in an entirely different way).
As Brink signals in the opening pages, however, there is no happy-ever-after. If there had been (the story purports to be based on truth), South Africa's history might have been different.
At times, the writing has less to do with black and white than purple, especially as Brink creates a seaside idyll for his pair, but for my money it's a grand read. It recalls a time when white South African liberals believed if only people could see their true nature everything would be all right.
Coetzee's darker - and more recent - version is that WHEN people are most true to their nature, South Africans have much to fear.
'An instant in the wind' is a novel of exploration at two levels. On the one hand, it explores the beautifully cruel South African landscape between the Great Fish River and Table Mountain, passing through the Tsitsikama region and the Karoo Desert; on the other, it intends to explore the psychology between blacks and whites and men and women in the South Africa of the mid-1700s--and, by extension, of 'apartheid' South Africa. Brink's thesis appears (and I emphasize that word, appears) to be that only extreme situtations bring people together, making us forget our racial and sexual differences. However, nothing really illuminating is said, and the very ending is extremely ambiguous, causing one to wonder if Brink did't play a trick on the reader with respect to the intentions of the female character. If he did (and I'm inclined to believe that he did), then the ultimate message of the novel is extremely nihilistic.
Is there anything redeeming in this novel? I found the descriptions of nature superb. The Tsitsikama and Karoo truly come to life the way Brink describes them, and Table Mountain becomes truly magnificent. This background, perhaps, makes the novel worth reading.
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