How I got hooked on Rhodesian memoirs:
1.
Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight:
I could never stop looking at the author's photo on the back of the book. She's looking out in the distance and her hair is blowing in the wind, and she looks so African.
Until I read this book, I never really understood that White Africans were a significant part of African society and culture (I know; I recently figured out what
apartheid means too). Blame it on my conservative background, or on my American education. I just say, there's only so much room in a mind; and African history isn't exactly a NCLB priority.
So Fuller, the author, is Rhodesian, and the book is about her childhood and growing up in Rhodesia. Her unstable mother serves as the perfect background for Rhodesia itself, with an uncertain path and an uncertain future. Growing up in the midst of a racially-charged civil war is enough to form a person for life, and the book follows Fuller as she navigates her challenging familial relationships and her challenge to live as a white African in a country that now does not exist. The Rhodesian civil war made orphans out of all Rhodesians, and that's why I love reading their books, I think.
2.
Out of the Dark: Caine is another woman writer who grew up in Rhodesia. Both she and Fuller lived in Zambia if I recall correctly. They at least both had significant moves in their childhoods, usually because of the war. Caine also has an unstable mother, and an even more unstable childhood. Her life is shaped by her Rhodesian past, and by her gaps in memory from that time.
This can be a difficult read, especially for survivors of childhood abuse, so I recommend it cautiously. Reading this book made me begin to develop an understanding of what Rhodesia was like, and what it means to be Rhodesian, and got me hooked on finding more memoirs. The picture in my head when I think of Linda is her horse, who she loved. I think that would make her smile to hear that.
3.
Casting with a Fragile Thread: What does it mean to love a place with your whole heart? This book is by another woman, with another drunk mother, and another broken family. But Wendy Kann's story is more than the sum of her trials. It's about how one can be Rhodesian without Rhodesia, how it feels to be always alone in a world with few others who can even comprehend what your childhood was like, and what it means to be you, all in the midst of terrible loss.
4.
When a Crocodile Eats the Sun: Godwin has another book, which is probably a better fit for this list. This book is more about Zimbabwe than it is about Rhodesia, but it's interesting to see how Godwin responds to Zimbabwe, having grown up Rhodesian. His commitment to his parents comes together with his uncertainty about this new country's identity and future, and one begins to wonder when reading about the day-to-day existence of a Zimbabwean, how this is better than what they fought to throw away.
5.
Rainbow's End: This is probably the freshest in my mind because I read it most recently, even though that isn't even that recent (maybe last summer, or two summers ago?). St. John, the author, tries to live a normal childhood within a very chaotic and dangerous situation. Her father runs a farm during a time when all farms were under almost constant attack, because most if all the farmers were white and landowners. St. John is also able to paint a picture of how the farmers responded to the violence, and how they survived.
The mere mention of Rhodesia makes me smile. If you have any book suggestions, send them my way. I had a fleeting thought last night that perhaps a year from today, I will be reading piles of books in my free time. It was a
very,
very nice thought. Maybe a hammock could be involved, or a porch swing; a dog by my side, or some other warm-blooded creature would also be nice.
