Mating Birds, the breathtaking novel by the late Lewis Nkosi, is a structural work of a genius. What the author presents as memoirs of one ill-fated Ndi Sibiya, a man condemned to death by hanging; explores a territory of a language form we may have taken for granted. Perhaps this neglect, which may not be deliberate at all, may emanate from our continued flair in sharpening the oral and written languages we use, to the obvious detriment of non-verbal mode of communication. Non-verbal language in gestures, eye contact, facial demeanour and all other aspects kin to this language form, is fascinating to say the least. And perhaps that is why Nkosi, through Mating Birds, explores its intrinsic yet intricate aspects so admirably.
Wordless language form presents a myriad of interpretations from what could easily be a universally understood phenomenon in speech. Sibiya’s encounter with his alleged victim, Veronica Slater, whom he’s accused of sexually assaulting, present what may be the most appropriate case study in this regard.
By his very account, Sibiya shares fragments of information relating to the alleged rape incident in an almost contradictory fashion. In one version as reflected in the extract below, and by way of recollection, Sibiya suggests not in so many ways though, that his 'coupling' with Slater may have been premeditated.
“... I watched her slim figure slack, pink, and hot with sun, stretched on the sands of the beach like an elongated fish, to the moment when during a hasty coupling, spurned and overwrought with desire, I struggled with the girl’s naked body while she screamed and cursed until the police and neighbours came running through the open door...” (p.27 and 28)
Reading further in the book, one discovers sentiments that suggest that mutual desire from both parties played itself out in all their ‘rendezvous’ as their constant meetings suggested, until the two copulated in Slater’s bungalow. The author dares what many may not by walking on a very shaky ground by exploring elements of communication that carry various interpretations on both the audience and the communicators. In Sibiya's case, the wordless ‘exchange’ he has with Slater, leads him to believe that she desires for him to engage her in a sexual act. With painstaking attempt to authenticate this observation, Sibiya recounts the events that led him to such a conclusion, which convinces one reading that the desire had been mutual and Sibiya may be innocent after all. And the fact that Slater's account is mediated by Sibiya's version of events through his observations of her, only accentuates the area of doubt or lack of clarity around wordless communication and its interpretations thereof. Slater’s ‘lying’ in court also makes the situation worse.
Even as one writes this part of reflection on Mating Birds, the unsteadiness of the ground Nkosi's book has created trembles with expressions of ‘caution’. And perhaps Nkosi's greatest success in this regard, intentional or not, may have been to urge us to get intimate with ways of communication outside the structure and discipline of speech. The phenomenal advancement of speech continues to mesmerize. New words emerge each day to enrich our speech further.
On the level of storytelling, Sibiya, draws the reader’s attention to the world one may only assume to be extravagantly torturous to one’s psyche; the world of the one counting down the days to his execution. It's an unstable world: perceptive; reflective; analytical, melancholic and nostalgic as expected. But surprisingly, and as demonstrated by Sibiya’s narrative, it’s a world not bereft of dark and potent wit. This of course is a feature that makes what is otherwise a tragic story glow with an unusual sense of humour which astonishingly, doesn’t eclipse the dark tale being told. Perhaps this cheerful and satirical feature that Nkosi employs cleverly in the tragedy of Sibiya and others who were living during the segregated times of the South Africa, fulfils a much bigger role in reflecting the follies and cruelties of the previous regime. Within the murkiness and dehumanization of a people, emerges a feature that alleviates the grimness of the events that take place in the life of Sibiya and Slater.
Had the author not presented the narrative of Mating Birds in the first person as wickedly witty as he did, one suspects that the result of its effect may not have been what has lead the book to become such a great classic. One suspects that some sceptical and wary readers, who may be opposed to the first person narrative for reasons that lament this form of narrative often appearing to be self-pitying and generously introspective, may have a new perspective after reading this work. Nkosi’s approach is innovative. He couples the first person account with literary devices like irony and satire to create a piece that is far removed from what would be deemed to be self-pity on the protagonist part.
In the preface section of the copy reissued by Kwela books in 2004, Lewis Nkosi, perhaps irked by the criticism that Mating Birds had received in South Africa, reveals how he began toying with the ideas of Mating Birds – he was doing research in Joseph Conrad's masterful novella, the Heart of Darkness. Nkosi even reveals how his intention was to focus on the wordless aspect of our language, at the same time allowing the story to highlight the “diabolically cruel and inhuman” nature of apartheid. One of the many highlights of the book is the impressive use of English language. It is by far the most vivid and engaging there is among literary works.
The generation of writers that Lewis Nkosi formed part of, were often criticised by some commentators as creating ‘protest literature’ that may have dissolved what may have been more compelling stories had the focus not have been solely on apartheid. Nkosi was of a similar opinion, so was the esteemed Njabulo Ndebele, one of South Africa’s highly accomplished and articulate writers. Ndebele, through his collection of essays in Rediscovery of the Ordinary, argues against the ‘spectacular writing’ element of South African black authors of apartheid times. At the same time he concedes that a system as brutal as apartheid necessitated for people to protest against it through various means. Thus most black literature carried this element.
Through his book, Fools and other Stories, Ndebele demonstrated the departure from the grimness and overtly protestant element of apartheid through subtle depictions of the effects of apartheid on a people. Lewis Nkosi does this all too well too in his presentation of Mating Birds. The satirical and comical tragedy of the events around Ndi Sibiya and Veronica Slater only condemns this lopsided reality of South Africa’s past.
Hoping not to repeat myself, like Ndi Sibiya would say, and perhaps driven by a different kind of prudence, I’d say Mating Birds is a very profound work that could be used to address not only the wordless communication contexts of our lives, but many other aspects. And for those who have not read the book yet, I recommend that you do so. For beyond the obvious a vast experience awaits.
Deon-Simphiwe Skade
