How we cite our quotes: (Book.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #7
I tell you there wouldn't be any South Africa at all if it weren't for the mines. You could shut the place up, and give it back to the natives. That's what makes me so angry when people criticize the mines. Especially the Afrikaners. They have some fool notion that the mining people are foreign to the country, and are sucking the blood out of it, ready to clear out when the goose stops laying the eggs. (2.21.24)
This statement comes from Mr. Harrison, the conservative father of Arthur Jarvis's widow. Mr. Harrison's statements are really revealing in a lot of ways. First, he jokes about giving South Africa "back to the natives." This phrasing suggests that South Africa does not belong to the "natives" now, that black South Africans are somehow not citizens of the country in the same way that white South Africans are. And this idea of rejecting black citizenship became an actual part of South Africa's racial policies in the 1970s.
Mr. Harrison also talks about the Afrikaners and the idea that "the mining people are foreign to the country." This division between English pro-mining South Africans and somewhat-less-enthusiastic-about-mining Afrikaners goes all the way back to the Boer Wars of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. These struggles are really complicated, so we won't get into it too much—we'll just say that, historically, Afrikaner nationalists have really valued farming and agriculture (in fact, the old word for Afrikaner is "Boer," which means "farmer"), while the main economic focus of the British settlers have been on the mines and natural resources. So Mr. Harrison is calling on old tensions in his rant, here, against the Afrikaners (source).
Quote #8
[Jarvis] put the papers back in the drawer and closed it. He sat there till his pipe was finished. When it was done he put on his hat and came down the stairs. At the foot of the stairs he turned and walked towards the front door. He was not afraid of the passage and the stain on the floor; he was not going that way any more, that was all. (2.24.9)
The "stain on the floor" is Arthur's blood, from his shooting in the kitchen of his own home. Is it significant to this whole idea of the home that that's where Arthur was shot? We think that Arthur's shooting in his own home emphasizes that Absalom's act was an ultimate betrayal. Arthur worked hard for black African rights, but he was also shot by a black burglar. The fact that Arthur was shot while he was working on a manuscript calling for understanding of the social conditions that have lead to rising crime rates among black people makes this whole thing doubly ironic.
Quote #9
There is calling here, and in the dusk one voice calls to another in some far distant place. If you are a Zulu you can hear what they say, but if you are not, even if you know the language, you would find it hard to know what is being called. Some white men call it magic, but it is no magic, only an art perfected. It is Africa, the beloved country. (3.30.34)
This whole section is beautiful, but we're not sure if it makes sense. First of all, what is this magic of understanding Zulu across a distance at sunset? Would Zulu called across a distance at noon or midnight be totally easier to understand? Why should this ability to understand be such a particular "art perfected"? And why does this ability represent "Africa" so especially?
Also, "Africa" is not a beloved "country"; it's a beloved continent. It's absolutely huge, with many, many countries with different histories and languages and traditions. So what is the relation between the continent of Africa and Paton's singling out of the beauty of voices calling out in Zulu at sunset? We know, we know, he's being poetic. It doesn't have to be a hundred percent accurate or sensible. What do you think the purpose of these kinds of imaginative passages might be in Cry, the Beloved Country?