The Magic of Africa

Re-reading Isak Dinesen's "Out of Africa" one is struck by her respect for the natives who lived on her farm. These were not the urbanised African but the untouched rural person who's was ingrained into the land and the timeless travesty which life, dependent on the laws and vagrancies of nature, bring to a person.

Living alone she had time to study and reflect on the substance of their lives and the many superstitions which controlled their actions. Her conclusions developed in her, a deep sagacity which those who have lived in the African city and seen the urbanised African man and woman have no sense or understanding, let alone an affinity.

Our laws and judicial upbringing have made us evaluate the actions of others in a graduated conceptually modified system of judgement in which victim and perpetrator each carry blame.
The rural native sees no such philosophical contrivance. Judgement is simply a matter of "someone must pay". Loss is not exclusively an emotional thing it is a financial burden and it weighs heavily on the poorest. The righting of a loss has more to do with restoring the economic balance which the loss has upset and her description of the hours of rumination and deliberation by the elders of the clan who worked on, or squatted close, to her farm would go on for days and if unresolved an injustice would smoulder for ever. "A loss has been brought upon the community and must be made up for somewhere, by somebody. The native will not give thought or time to weighing up guilt or desert but will devote himself in endless speculation to the method by which the crime or disaster can be weighed up in sheep and goats, time has no relevance as he leads you into a sacred maze of sophistry". "The old men listened attentively, the small black eyes in their dry and wrinkled faces glittered, their thin lips moved gently as if they were repeating my words, they were pleased to hear, for once, an excellent principle, put into speech".

The underlying difference in our cultures makes rationally based understanding so very difficult.

The names which the Native attached to a person particularly a white person was symbolic of how they defined your value or status and these names were more important than your birth-name in describing you within the district amongst the indigenous native community.

How often have we taken the trouble to investigate their culture and the importance it holds for them. How often we equate our own set of values which seem to diminish our standing as we find fresh ways to reward ourselves with the quick fix of easy money.

The book has a timeless quality. What do we mean by this. Well in part it is the nature of the seasons and their effect on nature, the animals and the crops and the adaptation mankind makes to cope. It is the time aspect which shorn of the hurried existence of city life takes on a new meaning where symbolism plays a role in making sense of our place in the events which we have so little control. And finally it's the space and the silence which drum a different message into our brains, a message which reveals how puny we are in the scope of things in general.

Read the book and hear the change of pitch as the sun sets and the cicadas tune up their distinctive orchestra, or the rains rumbling in across the veld take hold of everything in a cycle of rebirth and opportunity. The roar of the lion or the trumpet of elephants, the scream of a kill or the sound of conversation and laughter in the village. The smell of dry earth and the impossible contest between life and death are images which flow out from the pages written by a European who fell in love with the country and its people. If you have been lucky enough to have spent time there you will understand the magic of Africa.