“A Man of His Generation”: Portrayals of Masculinity in the Post-Apartheid Novel Roger Blanton Jr Submitted in partial fulfilment of the requirements of the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy Queen Mary, University of London School of English and Drama March 15, 2018 Appendix A: Required statement of originality for inclusion in research degree theses I, Roger Blanton Jr, confirm that the research included within this thesis is my own work or that where it has been carried out in collaboration with, or supported by others, that this is duly acknowledged below and my contribution indicated. Previously published material is also acknowledged below. I attest that I have exercised reasonable care to ensure that the work is original, and does not to the best of my knowledge break any UK law, infringe any third party’s copyright or other Intellectual Property Right, or contain any confidential material. I accept that the College has the right to use plagiarism detection software to check the electronic version of the thesis. I confirm that this thesis has not been previously submitted for the award of a degree by this or any other university. The copyright of this thesis rests with the author and no quotation from it or information derived from it may be published without the prior written consent of the author. Signature: Roger Blanton Date: March 15, 2018 2 Abstract While portrayals of women in post-apartheid literature have attracted a great deal of academic attention, far less consideration has been given to the depiction of men. My project begins from this point of omission by examining a range of novels to consider how constructions of masculinity have been influenced by South Africa’s transition from apartheid rule to democratic governance. Tensions in this new era of constitutionalism between gender equality and older social views are examined, as are the imbrication of these tensions with constructions of race, class, and sexuality. In my analysis, I find that male characters often attempt to embrace the new order but find themselves unable or unwilling to break with patriarchy, misogyny, and homophobia associated with the country’s past. In J.M. Coetzee’s Disgrace and Achmat Dangor’s Bitter Fruit, the female body is the site for masculinity’s self- construction, and this dynamic is informed not only by sexual conquest but by notions of vulnerability and honour. In the crime fiction of Deon Meyer, the challenging of gender stereotypes functions in the resolution of crime, but new masculinities are reliant on the exploitation of women for their construction. In Kgebetli Moele’s The Book of the Dead and Niq Mhlongo’s Way Back Home, the effects of the government- supported Black Economic Empowerment programme on the rise of a new black bourgeoisie informs ideas of black masculinity. A chapter on K. Sello Duiker’s Thirteen Cents and Eben Venter’s Wolf, Wolf shows how queer masculinities are constructed in post-apartheid society and how differences in race and class among gay men alter expectations of these models. By offering approaches to the study of masculinity in the post-apartheid novel, this project redresses the lack of critical attention in this area while also contributing new ideas of how gender is constructed. 3 Drawing together a range of literary texts and genres, this project finds in constructions of masculinity a range of often ambivalent responses to notions of transition and the new in post-apartheid South African literature. 4 Table of Contents Introduction 6 Masculinity, Violence, and Honour in Two Novels of the Transition 20 “It is finish”: Reconciliation and the Trouble with Contrition in 23 J.M. Coetzee’s Disgrace “It Was Inevitable”: The Collusion of the Past with the Present in 49 Achmat Dangor’s Bitter Fruit Conclusion 64 Gender, Revenge and Genre Clichés: Deon Meyer and Post-Apartheid Crime Fiction 66 Detection and “Gender Work”: Negotiating New Models of 71 Masculinity and the Resolution of Crime in Dead Before Dying “It’s not a man. It’s not a woman. It’s me”: Contesting (and 85 Reinforcing) Gender Roles in Devil’s Peak Conclusion 99 Life is to “be lived”: Black Economic Empowerment and the Trouble with Prosperity in two South African novels 103 Book of the Living, The Book of the Dead: Kgebetli Moele, 108 Economics, and HIV “Our struggle has been sold to the highest bidder”: Greed and 121 revolution in Niq Mhlongo’s Way Back Home Conclusion 129 Money, Masculinity and Heteronormativity: the “Future” of Queer Identities in Post-Apartheid Fiction 131 On the Streets of Cape Town, “Money is Everything” 133 “A Man is a Strange Thing”: The Decline of (Gay) White 151 Privilege Conclusion 174 Conclusion 176 Bibliography 178 5 Introduction Consider for a moment two of the most notorious criminal cases to be heard in South Africa since the transition to democracy in 1994, the trials of the country’s then Deputy President (now President) Jacob Zuma on charges of rape, and of one of its most high-profile athletes, the Paralympian Oscar Pistorius, for murder. Each speaks to structures of patriarchy and misogyny that reveal widespread views on gender in the country. On 2 November 2005, Zuma was alleged to have raped Fezekile Ntsukela Kuzwayo in a guest room in his Johannesburg home. The victim was the thirty-one- year old daughter of an ANC member who had been imprisoned with Zuma for ten years on Robben Island; she had long considered Zuma a family friend. This did not, however, prevent Zuma from exploiting a relationship of trust. He testified that the sex was consensual and he was merely following Zulu tradition in which, he stated, “leaving a woman in a state of [sexual arousal]” was disrespectful; consequently, what took place between he and the accuser was justified according to tribal custom.1 The change in the perpetrator/victim dynamic was part of a strategy by Zuma’s counsel to disparage Kuzwayo by focusing on her “revealing” clothing and portraying her as a manipulative temptress. The depiction succeeded: Zuma’s supporters made numerous threats on Kuzwayo’s life, torched her home, and instead of being vilified, Zuma was viewed by many as a “real” Zulu, his actions serving as an example of how men should behave, and blame for the encounter shifted to the victim.2 The judge, Willem 1 Steven Robins, ‘Sexual Politics and the Zuma Rape Trial’, Journal of Southern African Studies, 34:2 (2008), 411-427 (p. 421). 2 This view of Zuma as a “real” Zulu was not diminished by Kuzwayo’s revelation that she was HIV-positive and that Zuma was aware of her status at the time of the rape. A recounting of the events that night not only revealed that Zuma had sex without using a condom but also took a shower afterward to, as he claims, reduce the risk of infection. Robins, ‘Sexual Politics and the Zuma Rape Trial’, p. 415. 6 van der Merwe, acquitted Zuma of the charges. More focused on navigating the precarious political paths amongst the country’s history of racial oppression, its laws, and the constitutional guarantee of respect for cultural difference, van der Merwe might be said to have demonstrated a selective blindness to the issues of power and gender at the heart of the trial. After rendering his verdict, he castigated Zuma for being unable to control his sexual desires and invoked restraint as a means of fulfilling his masculinity, paraphrasing Rudyard Kipling’s 1910 poem, “If”: “If you can control your sexual urges, then you are a man, my son.”3 This was a strange use of Kipling’s poem, which famously addresses the qualifications for manhood, considering that Zuma was sixty-four years old at the time of the trial, and that van der Merwe’s example of Western cultural expectations, drawn from an imperial poet’s work, was being used to chastise a former anti-apartheid freedom fighter.4 What is not odd is the characterisation of masculinity that the poem espouses: the suppression of emotion, an unwavering sense of self-confidence, and a stanch perseverance in whatever task a man undertakes from a sense of duty. While these criteria for masculinity are perhaps as widely accepted now as they were a century ago, what is now recognized is the toxic effect of these constructions on society at large. Although Pistorius’s race, age, and upbringing differ from Zuma’s, the sense of hypermasculinity his trial revealed him to have constructed for himself, did not. Pistorius’s legs were amputated below the knee when he was eleven months old because of a genetic defect. He was fitted with prostheses at an early age, and took up 3 Robins, ‘Sexual Politics and the Zuma Rape Trial,’ p. 415. 4 The citation is made even stranger when it is considered that the inspiration for the poem was Leander Starr Jameson, an English doctor and politician who lead insurgent forces in the 1895 “Jameson Raid”, an attempt by the British South Africa Company to overthrow the Afrikaner-led government of the Transvaal republic. Leonard Thompson, A History of South Africa (New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Press, 2000), p. 115. 7 running as a teenager, going on to win several gold medals at the Paralympic Games in 2004, 2008, and 2012. Nicknamed the “Blade Runner” for the shape of his metal artificial running limbs, Pistorius achieved global fame for his sporting success and was seen as an inspiration to others for overcoming his disability. The image of Pistorius as a hero ended on 14 February 2013 when he shot his girlfriend, Reeva Steenkamp, through a bathroom door in their home outside Pretoria.