Not erecting a statue is significant

This was a striking statement in Brian Willan’s biography on Sol Plaatje of which I have written a fair bit recently (American influence, Shakespeare in Africa, Publishing 100 years ago).

It is in the 2000s that Plaatje was to be recognised for his contribution to South African politics and literature. In 2010 a statue of him working at his desk was erected in what used to be the Malay Camp but is now the Ernest Oppenheimer Park in Kimberley, Kimberley being in the Sol Plaatje Municipality. However, there is another of him which lies in the McGregor Museum waiting for a decision to be made. The dispute is over his stance – the family claiming that he would not have done the ‘ANC’ or ‘Amandla’ salute which is how he is portrayed.

The family maintains Sol was greater than the ANC – in terms of what he stood for. He was a journalist, author, linguist, fighter of equality (ethnicity and gender) and more. And this is where Willan’s comment about the significance of not erecting a stature comes in. Apart from the lack of consultation when the statue was commissioned, questions over ownership, appropriation and historical accuracy are all raised.

Statues are visual representations of individuals or events, no different to memorials, arches and buildings erected to commemorate events. They impart a message which needs no written words and as interpretations of the latter are informed by the reader’s context so statues are interpreted in the same way. What was acceptable to the community who erected the statue might not be acceptable to that same local community today which has changed its views, demographics etc. Statues are landmarks – both for helping one find one’s way around a location and as historical pointers. In contrast to the general trend of removing statues, the Spectator in June 2020 (kindly sent to me by a friend) suggests building more controversial statues. I’m all for keeping statues (not necessarily in their original location although that’s helpful) as a reminder of both the good and the bad. The two go together and we sometimes need to be reminded of our ancestors who made what we believe to be inappropriate decisions so we do not repeat them.

That old saying ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is perhaps enough for doing the opposite. In the meantime, no doubt the debate over what to do with Plaatje’s statue will continue thereby providing future generations of students with an insight to the world of physical representations of the past.

Publishing 100 years ago

I was undecided whether to post this here or with my publishing hat on, but in the end decided here was more appropriate because of the historical links.

Back in 1922, Solomon Plaatje tried to get his novel Mhudi published in the USA. Plaatje was a black South African but before assumptions are made and conclusions drawn, it’s worth considering the wider context. In the 1920s according to Brian Willan, Plaatje’s biographer, there was an interest in the USA for black literature and Plaatje was a published author in the UK with Native Life in South Africa and various pamphlets to his name. He was a well-known newspaper writer and editor too and his work had the support of academics at University College London (UCL) and the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS).

Despite his resume, Plaatje’s book was rejected by the big players of the day but a small publisher offered to print his book – which he praised, predicting 20,000 sales for the grand total of $1,500 which worked out at $5 per book.

It was these figures that jumped out at me – the figures quoted haven’t changed much in 100 years. Authors I speak to today have often been told a publisher will publish if the author contributes or pays for the print. The lowest figure given to me has been £1,500 and this is from both small, big and academic publishers.

The other striking aspect on book selling which Plaatje brought home was the unpredictability of sales. He travelled widely – in the UK, USA and South Africa promoting his work and selling his books. In 1920 he recorded that, in the USA, he got $40-50 from sales whereas in 1922 he could hardly get $8 or $10. His books did not feature in bookshops (since 2010, only 1% of all books published are likely to make it into a bookshop) despite there being reviews in recognised newspapers of the day such as the South African.

Again, this resonates with book selling today. Publishers generally do very little marketing of books expecting the author to do most of it, preferring to focus their energies on books they expect to make a return within three months of being released. There are numerous outlets now (social media) for letting people know about new books which technically means reaching more readers however, some time ago I read that only 7% of social media gets seen in a day. An article published at the beginning of December 2020 suggests that the average user receives 1,500 posts a day of which only 300 are shown in their feed (those deemed most relevant). This prompts the question then: is the ‘reach’ any different then from Plaatje’s time?

It has also been suggested that today that the book buying world consists of authors and publishers – few outside of the book producing world buy books. There may be something in this, but it’s hard to say. Reading habits have changed over the years and there are more books entering into the world every year whilst the second-hand book market ensures older books continue to circulate almost in perpetuity. Another random read recently noted that what is really important when it comes to books is not the number sold but the number read. Much is seen today about tsundoku or the art of buying books and never reading them as I wrote about recently. Can one make the assumption that, with fewer books in circulation and relatively more expensive 100 years ago, people read more of what they bought? I’m not sure we’ll know.

Today there is a huge industry in self-publishing but I don’t think this is much different to Plaatje’s day. Numerous books I encounter regarding the First World War in Africa are noted to be for private circulation or privately published, confirming there was no major market for the book but the author felt it needed to be made more widely available. The difference today is that technology has levelled the playing field when it comes to self-publishing. Most of Plaatje’s travels and book promotion tours were to raise funds to get new books published where the publisher asked the author to make a financial contribution. This effectively puts his books into the ‘self-published’ category. I wonder how Plaatje’s writings would have fared had he had access to the technology we have.

Mhudi was eventually published in 1930, ten years after it was written, by Lovedale University – Plaatje having to make no financial contribution. Since his death, and the reprint of the book in 1978 (with a foreword by Tim Couzens) more copies of the book have been sold than during his lifetime – and not for the reasons Plaatje initially set out to write the book but despite this, by all accounts, once again according to Willan, Plaatje’s aim has been realised.

Who would have thought that a biography on the first published black South African author would have provided such an insight into the world of publishing? Willan’s biography is definitely worth a read – it opened many windows onto a man whose name has generally been confined to Native Life in South Africa and his reporting of the Boer siege of Mafeking in the 1899-1902 war.

Shakespeare in Africa

Back in 2016 I wrote about a Shakespeare exhibition and the man’s connection with Africa as I knew it then. Well, the man has come back into consciousness unexpectedly on two fronts, both inspired by consciously working through my collection of unread books – someone once mentioned that the average person never reads more than 1/3 of their collection, so I set out to prove otherwise but as the argument goes, you can’t really work out an accurate figure as there are so many variables. According to Penguin UK, the average person who reads manages 12 books a year in the US while only 34% in the UK managed 10 or more books in one year. Given that my job and hobby both involve reading and that I read for pleasure, I’m definitely one of the 34% who reads more than 10 or 12 books a year, but it’s only having done a clear out of my library (lots of teaching/text books I won’t go back to) and removing reference books such as dictionaries from my list (yes, I have a list with dates when I finished a book), that I’ve finally made it to 35% excluding those recently bought…

So where does Shakespeare fit in? Apart from working through the collection of his writings, I happen to have read concurrently (I’m a book in nearly every room kind of person) the Brian Willan biography of Sol Plaatje and Antony Sher’s The year of the King in which he records his experience of performing Richard III. It was following my earlier encounters with Sher from his Titus Andronicus performance in South Africa and in ID about Verwoerd’s assassination, that I started collecting his written work and it’s taken me until now to read one. At one point he sees Lion’s Head in Cape Town as an inspiration for how Richard III will look – in case you’re wondering he’s also a sketch artist so has some amazing illustrations to show his thinking. This is all happening in 1983/4.

However, just over 80 years earlier, Sol Plaatje had discovered Shakespeare and saw Hamlet amongst others reflecting society as he knew it being a Barolong. In May 1916, while in England to lobby the British government to stop the SA Native Land Act of 1913, he is able to celebrate the Shakespeare tercentenary on the bard’s own soil. Plaatje watches a performance of Julius Caesar* in Stratford-upon-Avon, wrote a South African Homage to Shakespeare which was published that year in a commemorative compilation and on route back to South Africa later that year he starts translating The Merchant of Venice into Setswana. He would translate 6 of Shakespeare’s plays. Since then there have been numerous (relatively speaking) other translations and adaptations by South Africans.

And it’s not just South Africa where Shakespeare features. Alamin Mazuri considered Shakespeare in Swahili back in 1996, while in 2019 there was a Shakespeare Youth Festival. Shakespeare in Africa has podcasts by various people on the topic while Nigeria seems to have explored some alternative ways of performing/interpreting the man. You can also listen to some Hamlet in Yoruba. No doubt other African countries have their links too which Google et al will help source.

What is remarkable is how this man writing so many years ago still resonates today across continents, cultures and language.

*I wonder if Kitchener got to see the performance at Drury Lane theatre in the week before he drowned. Kitchener was one of the founding members of the Drury Lane Masonic Lodge, for actors, and had “directed” a battle scene at a preview following his return to Britain after he had conquered Khartoum.

An American Influence

I’ve been quite used to the influence of individuals from the United States of America on West African thinking from the late 1800s but little did I think they had a similar influence in South Africa around the same time.

During the Apartheid years, South African television was dominated by USA television shows – some in English and others dubbed into Afrikaans. This naturally led to a closer cultural tie between the USA and SA as opposed to the earlier British-SA cultural ties which never fully disappeared. The reason for the jump from British to USA influences was the ban by the UK Actors’ Guild in having any shows sold to SA. This did not seem to be a consideration of actors in the USA. The result is that SA language is heavily influenced or nuanced by Americanisms to the extent that I’ve had British colleagues complain about my writing, on occasion, being American! If anything it’s multi-cultural…

But back to my discovery of USA influences pre-dating Apartheid. Yes, there was the song ‘Daar kom die Alibama‘ sung by various Kaapse Klopse groups – it’s a song about the ship the Alabama which during the American Civil War put into Cape Town. The lyrics are rather repetitive but very catchy. One can only surmise as to why it became as popular as it did – at a time when slavery was being abolished in southern Africa, the Great Trek having occurred in 1836 after the abolition of slavery in 1812.

It was in reading Brian Willan’s biography of Sol Plaatje that the penny really dropped as to the influence of the USA on South African black thinking in particular. Wilberforce University, Ohio, was the destination of two of Plaatje’s friends (Henry Msikinya and Chalmers Moss) in 1896 which followed on from that of Charlotte Manye (Maxeke) who was one of the African Jubilee Singers. While Henry Msikinya did not return to SA having died in the USA about a year after he arrived, the others brought back ideas. Missionaries and others no doubt had brought American ideas to the southern African territories before for the likes of Henry and Chalmers to have even considered the move to study in the USA. Later, after World War 1, Plaatje toured the USA where he met WEB du Bois, Marcus Garvey and others further developing links and influencing ideas between the two territories. While initially these links would have been cultural – music as reflected in The Grand Vocal Concert which saw people like Will P Thomson remain in Kimberley rather than continue touring – it would soon have become political as both the African-Americans and the black South Africans were working to obtain equal recognition with their white compatriots especially where education was comparable.

The links make sense, considering that men like John Chilembwe who led an uprising in early 1915 in Nyasaland (Malawi) had studied in the USA – what has been surprising is the extent and depth of these early links.

And for anyone curious as to why I have consistently referred to the United States of America as USA or in full, it’s simply because I had a correspondent some years ago who thanked me for spelling out the relationship as they were from a United States country too… and American? well that’s a challenge – I use the term in the same way I do African – inclusive and wide-reaching.