The Glass Island
Dedicated to:
For Benjamin Roux and Saul Roux and in memory of Catharina Myburgh
The Glass Island is my eighth and most recently published novel. Lyrical and finely wrought, it is set in a Venetian-esque, sinking, golden city and the Island beyond its lagoon. I wrote it as a meditation on profound friendship; the question of ‘authorial conscience’ in the face of tyranny; and on humanity’s beguilement by war.
The Island, which lends its name to the title, once served as a prison for political dissenters but is now home to the mysterious Magistra and her Contemplatives. Together, they have created a sanctuary of peace in a world darkened by moral ruin.
Five powerful characters arrive on the Island to ponder ethical decay and the tyranny which drives the status quo. Under the watch of Magistra, and in the presence of a sixth person who remains concealed in the shadows, they consider the power of creativity and truth in facing up to tyranny.
This novel is surreal, mildly gothic, steeped in the poetic and underscored by fidelity. It crosses genre boundaries and, while saturated with the fantastical, with beauty and delicious cuisine, serves as a pertinent expression against war and the recurring fascism within our human narrative. It can be read as a cautioning during these times of rising nationalism and totalitarianism and could serve as an inspiration toward the higher qualities of human endeavours.
Editions:
English Paperback
Published by African Sun Press
ISBN 978-1-7764937-7-7 (Print)
122 pages
Opening Lines:
“The guests at the luncheon are variously garbed. Some look rather theatrical while others are pallid. One is fringed and another frayed. They eat and drink and chatter and laugh. There’s a sense of People come and go, talking of Michaelangelo, with touches of wit and sarcasm, laughter and disdain, judgement and opinion. Poems are read and a champagne cork pops.
The fare is wholesome. Minestrone, fish cakes, olive ciabatta and bowls of nougat weigh on the table with its drawn-thread cloth. The plates are vintage, each one different — Clarice Cliff, Susie Cooper and Royal Doulton among them. The cutlery is silver plated and bone handled.
In the various conversations, there’s reference to a novel in progress, a special offer on craft beer at Tops Bottle Store, the electricity crisis, and the current wars. There’s no mention of the recent death of a friend I’d dearly cared for, because no one here had known her. Her name was Katarina.”
Reviews:
“There is something of the parable to The Glass Island. It has the feel of a morality tale with the desire for light to triumph over evil. It’s a dense, layered mash-up and one can feel that to get it all to hang seamlessly together required a great deal of skilful stitching by the author. The book is bursting with clusters of highly detailed, sensuous descriptions of fabric, food and places.”