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The copyright of this thesis vests in the author. No quotation from it or information derived from it is to be published without full acknowledgement of the source. The thesis is to be used for private study or non- commercial research purposes only. Published by the University of Cape Town (UCT) in terms of the non-exclusive license granted to UCT by the author. University of Cape Town HEARTFRUIT INGRID LEONIE IWOLFAARDTI KNNINGOOI A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED IN FULL FULLFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE AWARD OF THE DEGREE OF MA IN CREATIVE WRITING FACULTY OF THE HUMANITIES UNIVERSITY OF CAPE TOWN 2006 This work has not been previously submitted in whole, or in part for the award of any dcgnx It is my own work. Each significant contribution to, and quotation in, this disscrtatlOn from the work, or works of other people has been attributed and has been cited and referenced. signature removed University of Cape Town Abstract This novel, Hear([ruit, challenges the traditional fann novel as practised specifically by Afrikaans writers in South Africa and challenged by a younger generation of writers, post 1980. It therefore challenges the genre of fann novel. The rewrite of the fann novel presupposes a critical view on social and economic relationships within a rural context and the usurping of traditional power relationships within the fanning context. This novel traces the story of a South African fruit fann and the fann' s transition from a traditional white-held ownership to a new dispensation of collective ownership where traditional roles of worker and landowner are redefined. The story explores the economic relationships and legal issues surrounding fanning and the export of fruit from South Africa. Time-wise the novel stretches from the 1970's to approx the tum of the 20th century. As a historical novel it also deals with a private relationship and the public implications of this relationship within a changing political and economical space. The novel begins with the main male protagonist, a fruit fanner traveling in Europe in search of funding and new markets, here at the end of the 1990' s. The latter half of this decade has seen the opening up of trade for individual growers and agents in South Africa to access international markets, without governmental control through the old Marketing Board system. He has an accident in the home of his estranged brother in Holland, whereby he lands up in hospital. Here he has time to reflect and consider his private history as well as his futureUniversity and the fragile prospects of of the Cape new fann structurc Town he has implemented. In essence the novel speaks of a broader human experience of loss and guilt as well as the struggle to reach out and build relationships. The title of the novel, Hear~fruit is derived from the common name of the tree Hymenocardia acida, which is a tree indigenous to Southern Africa. The fruit of the tree is in the shape of a deeply indented heart, turning red and conspicuous when mature. In African culture, the fresh leaves are placed in the roof of a house to protect it from lightning. The root ashes and the bark are also used for various oral and stomach conditions. Town Cape of University II This land is not his land. Tired of traveling, Isak longs for heat and dust and an expanse of sky. Troubled, he checks the traffic in the mirror. He stares at the child, glued to the car window ahead, recalling his own lonely journey as a boy. Here, there are no kestrels on telephone poles. Here, there are no mountains overlooking broad plains. The land is not his land, nor the people. He feels nothing for the gentle landscape surrounding him. For the most he longs for her to be sitting here with him, gesticulating excitedly in all directions. Dark skies clear as he pulls otf the road next to lawns lined with white crosses. Cars stream past. He climbs out, stretching his body in the cold, worried that he has not heard anything from her. Town Perron. Isak rolls the name over his ton,brue. Perron, he thinks of home. Cape Geese feed off snails as he studiesof the map, running his finger along the road from Paris to the Dutch border. It is the name of the village that changes his mind to stay and the crosses too. He wants to know more about them, their wooden simplicity moving him inexplicably. Stiffly, he descends the embankment towards the Fiat, taking the turn-off from the highway that Universityleads to the main street where old men lock up for the night. Some have ribbons pinned onto their blazers and it is the first time since Rungis that he has seen men wear berets like himself. He parks next to a dilapidated scooter under the flickering name of the hotel, cracking his knuckles in thought when a man comes out through the swinging bar doors with a clumsiness that catches his attention. Isak hesitates but two others, jovial and younger step out of the bar, cradling the jerking body onto the scooter's seat. One of them kick starts the engine while the other maneuvers the scooter off the pavement. The taller one turns to Isak, tapping the side of his head. ""Idiot," he mouths exaggeratedly and the other laughs as they shoulder their way back into the bar. He watches the man with the lolling head drive erratically down the avenue, until the swinging doors quieten. Inside, the ceiling is low and there is a woman behind the desk with rouged cheeks. "Excusi moi, ja ne parle pas Francais?" "You speak AnglaisT she asks channingly. "Un peau." Isak measures with his fingers to show how little. "VisaT' She offers her hand, commenting appreciativelyTown on his younger image. "Beau homme:' Her bangles tinkle as she passes it back. "Afrique du Sud ... Mandela?" Cape "Yes, yes;' he replies, brrimacing impatiently.of "Maak net gou:' he munnurs under his breath. "Une chamber.·· A flamed fingernail makes her point clear. Together they mount the staircase, his bag between the two of them. She unhooks a key from her cleavage, chatting in broken English as he studies the number on the door. University The room is Spartan and the Madam gestures expansively. "Perron, Verdun, Sommc ... Is famous for bloody fighting." She pushes open the shuttcrs and he can see 2 the endless fields of crosses. "Land, men killing men for land:' she tries to explain the VIew. Beneath the artificial ruddiness, there is skin like Ouma's. "Merci:' "Cle:- She hands over the key, while indicating the time for dinner with her fingers but he curtly dismisses the offer. Above the bed is a crucifix with a carved Christ figure and he stays at the open window until she closes the door. The room is sided by watercolours of men fighting in trenches with haloes around their heads. Shoving off his shoes at the heel he pulls the beret off his head. lvfade in China, it reads on the inner satin. Disgusted, he kicks it under the bed. Madam calls as she goes down the stairs and her gaiety adds to his trustration. Brochures are piled on the bedside table. Idly he flips through France. Versailles, Montmarte, the Moulin Rouge, cafes on the Champs Elysees. TownTossing them to the floor, he recalls the Peripherique long before sunrise. Him caught that very moming in the swirling motion around the city. An enormousCape spinning wheel ofvehic1es that never rests. Then Rungis with its stark halls,of large enough to house bomber planes, deceptive in their tattiness, displaying perfect fruit trom all over the world. Made in China, he thinks again, nothing is sacred. What is worse, the battle of the body or the mind? He knows both, the fight to survive in grass and swamps and the fight to survive in a competitive world of money. A man who has turned his back on the old order ofUniversity things and yet the fight has gone out of him, long ago. Only he knows that, only he knows that this last attempt to save everything they have worked for, believed in, is like sending a cripple to the front lines, without weapons. It is hopeless. 3 A gong plays in the passage of the hoteL He sits up and yawns. Out by the wi ndow in the back yard, kitchen staff feed geese through funnels. Isak closes the shutters to their cries. There is mud on his shoes. Carefully he wipes at the spots, seeing Japie in the shed, praying a blessing over him. Their trust in him is too much to bear. Accordion scratched out on vinyl, rises up from the dining room, while the e-mail from Danie lies untouched in his pocket. His visit to Europe is to kill two birds with one stone and the one has already been put to flight, while the second remains hidden from him. 'It ,muld be good to see you again. ' Once again he opens the shutters for fresh air, endless crosses creating endless vistas. Disturbed, he checks the cell phone for messages from her but there is nothing. Despite his disappointment, he keeps her updated and the tone light. "Ek is op pad om 'n ware Fransman te word:' Clumsily,Town he presses the ok button, continuing with the second part "Parys en nou uiteindelik, Perron." Message sent, registers on the screen. "Buite raas die paddasCape so erg hulle klink soos poegies met af-exhausts, miskien van benoudgeidTof He struggles to fInd the question mark option, deleting his failed attempt at humour.

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