Chapter 1
The opening chapter, which is almost a prose poem, introduces us to two adjacent country sides near the South African village of Ixopo—countrysides which represent the two worlds of the novel. Rich damp matted grass on the upland is an indication of the well-tended ground of a well-to-do white farmer. Desolate red soil in the valley, eroded and over-grazed and burned by many fires, is the context of the poor Africans living nearby. So poor has the soil become that most black people have moved away. The drama of the novel grows out of the co-existence of these two South Africas. In many parts of the novel, too, there is an underlying sense that a good use of the soil is related to the health of human society.
Chapter 2
We are introduced to the Reverend Stephen Kumalo, the novel's main character. He is the priest of the impoverished parish at Ndotsheni, near Ixopo. A child brings from the storekeeper a letter from Johannesburg. A letter is something rare and momentous, and Stephen and his wife open it with trepidation: his brother John, his younger sister Gertrude, and, most important, their only child, Absalom, have all gone to the big city, and none of them has returned. The letter is from a fellow priest, Theophilus Msimangu, who says that Gertrude is "very sick"; he asks Stephen to come to Johannesburg quickly. Stephen does not know Msimangu and he has never been to Johannesburg. But, after moments of tension in which the pain of their son's absence flows to the surface, Stephen decides, partly prompted by his wife, that he must go at once. They scrape together what little money they have; much of it had been saved for the day—clearly never to occur—when Absalom would return home and go to high school. "All roads lead to Johannesburg." Stephen prays in his church and prepares for the long train journey. His wife endures it all, suffering in silence.
Chapter 3
Stephen waits for the little train that will take him on the first leg of his journey. The narrator speaks of the beauty of the hills, the richness of the vegetation, and the sense of mystery conjured up by the mist (Paton was an ardent naturalist); but his chief concern is to take us inside the mind of Stephen, which is dwelling on very different matters: his worry about his sister and, more deeply, his son, and his anxiety about the big city of which he has heard so much. A friend asks Stephen to enquire after someone who had gone to Springs (near Johannesburg) but has ceased writing letters home—yet another instance of the way the big city seems to dismantle families. Stephen gets into the train, saying something—which will give people (who in any case respect the pastor, the 'umfundisi') a sense that he knows Johannesburg well. But beneath this little act of vanity, which he regrets, there are his deep fears of the unknown world he is about to enter, and his unformulated sense that the secure world that he knows is "is slipping away, dying". Humbly, he takes refuge in his "sacred book".
Chapter 4
We go through his new experiences with Stephen: the two trains to Pietermaritzburg, then the mainline overnight train to Johannesburg. Those who share his compartment point out the sights to him as they approach the city: the mine dumps, the mines, the size and density of the city's buildings. Stephen is overawed. When they reach the station and the crowded streets, he is afraid and confused, and within a few minutes he has been conned by a young man who, pretending to buy him a bus ticket, pockets the pound that the innocent pastor gives him. He is then helped by another, kindly man, who offers to accompany him to the Mission House at Sophiatown, where Msimangu lives. (This pattern of a bad experience followed by a better one occurs frequently in the novel.) They make their way through the teeming city, by bus and then by foot. Msimangu, "a young tall man in clerical dress," welcomes Stephen warmly. Exhausted by his journey and his many new impressions, he is pleased for the time being to relax in Msimangu's company.
Chapter 5
Stephen speaks at dinner with a group of priests. He talks of his home and of the way the traditional structures of African life are being broken down, and the others give him the Johannesburg end of the same story: a lack of social cohesion, and black crime, which frightens white citizens. Msimangu and Stephen then talk together. Msimangu tells him that Gertrude has become a prostitute and a shebeen queen. Stephen is deeply shocked. They will go tomorrow to see her. Stephen then brings out the story of Absalom; he feels all the more anxious about him after what he has just heard of the prevalence of crime. Msimangu says they will search for him together. They are both humble religious people, and wish to pray about these matters. Stephen then mentions his brother John. Msimangu knows him: he has given up the church and become a well-known politician. He then speaks about what in his view is happening in the country: the old structures are indeed breaking down; nothing can prevent that. But those whom it suited to break the structures, the white people, have made no attempt to build something in their place. Yet some white people care.
Chapter 6
As Msimangu and Stephen make their way towards the run-down area of Claremont, where Gertrude lives, the former discusses some aspects of the racial and social situation in the country. Stephen goes in to see Gertrude by himself. There is a pained, awkward dialogue between them. He is appalled and embarrassed, but finally angry. She is contrite and also afraid, and bursts into sobbing. He asks if she wishes to come back with him, she and her child, and (to our surprise) she says she does, and weeps more uncontrollably. At this Stephen is overwhelmed with compassion: "God forgives us, he says. Who am I not to forgive? Let us pray." They are reconciled. Stephen then asks her about Absalom, and she is able to offer some help: Absalom has been a friend of the son of their brother John, whom Stephen now wishes to visit. Stephen then meets Gertrude's son, and is touched by him. Later in the day Gertrude, her son and her belongings are taken from the house in Claremont, and she comes to stay with the kindly Mrs. Lithebe, who is also putting Stephen up. He ends the day feeling that things are going well.
Chapter 7
Poor though he is, Stephen buys some new clothes for Gertrude and her son, who seem happy. Msimangu takes Stephen to visit John. Stephen chides his brother for having left his first wife and the church, but John, a passionate politician with a bull-like voice, tells Stephen that the old order is changing, and the center of this change is Johannesburg, which is a place of opportunity, since Africans are beginning to realize themselves, but a place of strife too, because blacks are unjustly treated by whites. Stephen then asks about Absalom; John can tell them a little, for his own son has left home. Msimangu and Stephen discuss what John has said. Msimangu agrees with much of it, but fears that a politician like John could easily become corrupt. He feels that the only hope for the country is if whites and blacks can learn to work together for the common good. Love is needed; but he says, "I have one great fear in my heart, that one day when they are turned to loving, they will find we are turned to hating." They then begin the search for Absalom, following leads, going from place to place.
Chapter 8
Stephen and Msimangu, now firm friends, in their search for Absalom set off for Alexandra, eleven miles from the centre of Johannesburg. They encounter a bus boycott, mounted to object to a fare increase, and are persuaded to walk the distance; but after a while they are given a lift by a sympathetic white man. Msimangu speaks of the problems caused by crime, and of the varying white reactions to the issue. They then visit Mrs. Mkize, with whom Absalom and his cousin stayed a year or so ago. She is afraid, partly because she thinks they may come from the police. She does not know where the young men have gone, but in response to the pleas of Msimangu finally tells him that the two had obviously been engaging in theft. She puts Msimangu and Stephen on to a taxi-driver who had been friendly with Absalom and his cousin. He is afraid too, but suggests that they go to Shanty Town, the squatter settlement. They return by taxi to Johannesburg, passing the thousands of walking bus boycotters, and the sprinkling of white drivers irritating the police by offering their assistance to some of the walkers.
Chapter 9
The novelist constantly offers, in dramatized form, salient relevant South African socio-political realities, with all their injustices and imbalances. Thus he gives his central story a representative edge, indeed makes it symbolic of the country's tragic and dangerous tensions. In this chapter, a series of vignettes highlight some of the social problems of African people in Johannesburg, into which more and more people are moving: poverty, overcrowding, a drastic shortage of housing and accommodation, bribery, a lack of privacy, the constant fear of sexual misdemeanors, theft, and other forms of crime. In a further series of vignettes—fictionalized, but close to the historical reality—we see homeless people getting together, forming a committee (headed by Dubula, who was also involved in the bus boycott), and building Shanty Town overnight, and, while all this happens, the grief of a mother as her young child sickens and dies. We see Shanty Town growing, and the white authorities attempting to deal with it as a new problem. The squatter settlement becomes famous overnight. But how will those living in shacks made of wooden poles, iron and sacking cope in the rain and in the winter?
Chapter 10
Waiting for Msimangu, Stephen plays happily with his little nephew, with whom he is more relaxed than with Gertrude; but his joy evaporates when he remembers the lost Absalom; but then the memory of his wife, friends and home lifts his spirits somewhat. Paton ponders on the mysterious interplay between comfort and desolation. Stephen and Msimangu renew their search. They go first to Shanty Town, and learn that Absalom was taken by the police and later sent to the reformatory (a place where, in real life, Paton was principal). His father is devastated. They make their way to the reformatory, where they are told by a young white official that Absalom, who had said that he had no family, has been released, because he had behaved well, work had been found for him, and the girl he wished to marry was pregnant. The official drives them to Pimville where the couple is staying, but they are all appalled to discover from the young woman that Absalom has disappeared. The official feels a sense of failure, Stephen is overwhelmed with grief but sorry for the girl, Msimangu has a rare outburst of angry bitterness, for which he later apologizes to Stephen.
Chapter 11
Feeling that Stephen needs a break, Msimangu suggests that before long they go together to visit Ezenzeleni, the Anglican mission to the blind: "It will lift your spirits." But that evening the headline of the evening paper tells of a murder in Saxonwold, one of the white suburbs. Arthur Jarvis, a young engineer and noted liberal, has been shot by intruders who are thought to be (in the white parlance of the time) "natives". Jarvis happens to come from the Ixopo district: his father, whom Stephen recognizes but has never spoken to, is the owner of a nearby farm; in fact Stephen dimly remembers the son as a young bright boy. The police are searching for the culprits; they hope that the domestic worker, knocked out by the intruders, will be able to help them when he recovers consciousness. All those in the Mission House are silenced, sad and anxious. "Cry for the broken tribe, for the law and the custom that is gone...Cry, the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end." Stephen is deeply fearful, improbable though it is that Absalom could be involved. He tells Msimangu that his ability to pray has dried up.
Chapter 12
"Have no doubt it is fear in the land." The first half of the chapter conjures up, through a series of vividly presented statements, conversations and speeches, the anxiety of white Johannesburgers, and the mixture of views that they put forward, ranging from the right wing to the liberal. They discuss not only crime, but race relations more generally, and education, and the organization of society. There are no easy solutions to society's problems, especially as the whites take their own privileged status for granted. "Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child who is the inheritor of our fear." We then swing back into the main storyline. Msimangu is informed that Absalom is being sought by the police. He tries to conceal this from Stephen, but fails, and the two of them set out by taxi to retrace their earlier steps. All the people they call on tell them that the police have come, looking for Absalom, and it seems very serious. Eventually they reach Absalom's girlfriend, who tells them that the police have just left. She is distraught and terrified. Meanwhile, as they return sadly home, Stephen is cold with anguish. Msimangu attempts to comfort him.
Chapter 13
They pay their visit to Ezenzeleni, but Stephen has no heart for sightseeing, and is left to meditate. He broods unhappily. Some thoughts console him, he has momentary visions of a reconstituted family at Ndotsheni; but he is deeply oppressed by his fear for Absalom, and his anxiety about the destruction of the traditional African social order. He ends up in despair, but Msimangu, as a fellow priest, chides him, and he accepts the admonition. We then get a glimpse of the creative work that is done for and with blind people at the mission. Then Msimangu preaches. He speaks particularly to those with "blind eyes", but it soon becomes clear to Stephen that he is speaking to him too, encouraging his audience with the message of God's bounty and his ability to turn darkness into light. Msimangu speaks eloquently. Stephen is moved, and his faith is renewed. But there is a final twist: some say that Msimangu, without realising it, is helping the white government, as "he touches people at the hearts, and sends them marching to heaven instead of to Pretoria". So the enigma of how best to approach the South African problem remains.
Chapter 14
Stephen seeks some solace with Mrs. Lithebe, Gertrude and her son; but Msimangu and the young white reformatory official arrive with very grim news. Stephen's worst fears are realized: Absalom, his cousin and another have been arrested for the murder of Jarvis; it was Absalom who fired the shot. Stephen is stunned by the blow: he behaves erratically, and seems suddenly aged. They go to his brother John, who, having greeted them jovially, is shocked by the news. Then they all go off to the great prison, where the brothers meet their sons in separate rooms. Stephen's encounter with Absalom is deeply unsatisfactory. The father overwhelms the son with questions, but the latter has very little to say by way of answer or explanation. They torture each other; we are shown something of Absalom's pained bewilderment as well as that of his father. Absalom does say, however, that he wishes to marry the girl. After the interview Stephen speaks to John, who suggests that he'll employ a lawyer to argue that his son wasn't present at the scene of the crime. It is now the turn of the official, in his grieving frustration, to behave oddly. It is a bleak situation.
Chapter 15
The young official comes to Stephen to apologize for his irrational outburst. He thinks Stephen should engage a lawyer, and the two of them go to Father Vincent, a sympathetic priest from England, who knows of a good advocate whom they can approach. The two priests are then alone, and Stephen pours out his distress. Father Vincent is moved and overwhelmed, and tries to offer some consolation. Stephen describes the pain of his journey, the suspense, the final revelation of Absalom's crime, and his sense that this horror had been building for so long. Father Vincent says, tentatively and gently, "Fear is a journey, a terrible journey, but sorrow is at least an arriving." But Stephen, who is appalled by his son's act—murdering a generous and talented young husband and father—and by his apparent incapacity to understand or to feel remorse, is inconsolable. Father Vincent then speaks to him as a priest, tells him to rest, and offers him a way of getting things into some perspective and directing his prayers: one has to try to accept God's incomprehensibility, and there are many things to pray about, and also things to be grateful for. Stephen accepts all this.
Chapter 16
Stephen goes by himself to visit Absalom's girlfriend. He tells her of Absalom's imprisonment, and then of his crime. She is aghast. He asks her if she wants to marry Absalom. She says yes, but in a listless, unemphatic way rather reminiscent of Absalom's replies to his father's questions in their prison encounter. Stephen questions her further, about her family background, her difficult life, and her rather lax and blurred moral values. He is then angered by her and feels a strange desire to be hurtful. He asks if she will take another lover, and then, wildly, if she would accept him as a lover. She is very confused by this, but then says that she "could be willing". He covers his face with his hands; she weeps; and he is ashamed "for his cruelty, not her compliance". He apologizes. This moment brings them closer together. He asks her if she would like to marry Absalom, then come with her child to Ndotsheni and become his daughter, and she says yes with real feeling. They are both suddenly happy; and Stephen feels that some of his pain has been lifted from him. He remembers that Father Vincent is praying for him.
Chapter 17
The kind Mrs. Lithebe observes those staying in her house: the good but suffering Stephen Kumalo, the child who at time brightens his mood, and his mother Gertrude, who is pleasant but whose laughter is sometimes "careless". Stephen humbly asks Mrs. Lithebe if Absalom's girl can come and stay there too. She says yes, and the girl comes, and, unlike Gertrude, is warmly grateful and accepts Mrs. Lithebe's tutelage. Stephen visits his son again, and finds him depressed. Absalom knows now that his two accomplices will deny that they were present at the murder scene, and he is relieved to learn that he is to have a lawyer. His father gets angry with him again, but then relents, seeing his son's distress. After this they feel closer. Stephen tells him that Father Vincent is arranging the marriage and that his wife-to-be will be coming back to Ndotsheni. Absalom is pleased. The advocate, Mr. Carmichael, then speaks to Absalom, and later explains to Stephen how he will approach the case. Stephen is anxious about the cost of the lawyer, but is told that Carmichael will take the case pro deo (without payment, literally "for God"). Stephen is grateful and moved.
Chapter 18
The first paragraph of this chapter repeats the memorable opening paragraph of Book One: we are back in the lovely Ixopo district, but now on the prosperous high farm of James Jarvis (already mentioned in Chapter 11). Jarvis climbs up to "the tops" on his land, partly to enjoy the view of the great Umzimkulu Valley, and worries about the drought, and about the problems of soil erosion and the inadequate farming methods employed by Africans. Then he sees policemen drive into the farm and begin walking up the slope towards him. The captain breaks to Jarvis the news of the death of his son Arthur, shot by an intruder that afternoon in his home. Jarvis is shocked, stunned. He accepts the police offer of an airplane trip to Johannesburg, and then, as the captain makes the necessary phone call, breaks the terrible news to his wife, whom we hear "crying and sobbing."
Chapter 19
The senior Jarvises are welcomed and accommodated in Johannesburg by the Harrisons, the parents of Mary, Arthur's widow. Mary and her mother-in-law console each other in their grief. Once the formalities at the mortuary are concluded, Harrison senior and Jarvis talk sadly about Arthur. John Harrison, Mary's brother, admired Arthur intensely, but his father and Jarvis, white South Africans of the older generation, have never had much sympathy for or understanding of liberal attitudes towards black people. But Jarvis liked his son, and the two of them are impressed by the variety of people who have sent in messages of sympathy. Harrison speaks of the causes that Arthur espoused and the chances that he was prepared to take in pursuance of his beliefs. Jarvis is conscious that his son had traveled into territory that is unknown to him—though it may not be wholly unknown to his wife—and he feels rather challenged by this. He tells his wife that he wishes he had known his son more fully. He also cannot understand how this could have happened to someone like Arthur. The two embrace in their pain and sorrow.
Chapter 20
His wife and daughter-in-law having returned to the Harrisons' house, James Jarvis sits alone in his son's study. He looks at Arthur's papers, among them many letters of invitation to meetings and gatherings of various kinds; letters of thanks, too. He looks at some of the books in his son's large collection: a whole bookcase full of books on Abraham Lincoln, and books on South African history, wildlife, religion, politics, criminology; and literary works. There are pictures too, one of Christ crucified, one of Lincoln, two of South African scenes. He finds an uncompleted essay that Arthur was writing, in which he distinguishes between what was permissible and what was not permissible in the actions of white people and governments. He suggests that it was all right to develop the country, but that it was never right to exploit human beings. In words reminiscent of those of Msimangu, he notes and regrets the disintegration of traditional tribal values, and insists that the ruling whites have a moral duty to devise an honest and fair solution to the social problem that has developed. Jarvis senior is interested and touched by all this. Deep in thought, he begins his walk home.
Chapter 21
The funeral, with the presence of so many people of different races and a moving speech by the bishop, makes a great impact on Jarvis. He talks to Harrison, who speaks about the police investigation of the murder and more generally about African crime, and then offers a defense of the mines and their practices and a strongly conservative assessment of the socio-political situation. His son John says that Arthur would have challenged Harrison's views, and Jarvis wishes that he could have heard his son do so. He asks John if he will later take him to visit the Boys' Club that Arthur supported. The next morning, after giving more news of the police investigation, Harrison hands to Jarvis the manuscript on "native crime" that Arthur was working on when he was killed. Jarvis dwells painfully on the fact of Arthur's death, but then focuses on his words. Arthur points out eloquently that Christians are caught up in contradictions. They wish to follow the Gospel precepts, but because of their prejudices and fears they cannot bring themselves to do so. Jarvis is "deeply moved". His son's words and allegiances are beginning to resonate in his mind.
Chapter 22
We are in the courtroom, for the trial of Absalom and his two associates. The atmosphere is solemn; in the public gallery, whites and "non-Europeans" are segregated, "according to the custom" (the novel was written before the introduction of formal Apartheid). We are told that the judges are incorruptible in their allegiance to the Law, but that the Law, made by white people, is not necessarily just. The trial begins. Absalom is questioned by the prosecutor and by the judge. We believe his vivid account of what happened: the three of them broke into the house, Pafuri struck the domestic servant, Arthur Jarvis appeared, and Absalom, who was carrying a revolver as a precaution, panicked and shot Jarvis, without meaning to kill him; then they ran away. The sharp questions thrown at Absalom, however, both confuse him a little and reveal the points where his motivations had not been thought through. The other two accused will claim that they were not at the scene. The court is adjourned, and the whites and the blacks leave through their separate doors. Stephen catches sight of James Jarvis, whose son his son has killed. He trembles, and turns away in fear and anguish.
Chapter 23
This chapter is an interlude, though its theme is related to one of the central concerns of the novel. It is spoken by a white South African much interested in money, but what he says is shot through with an irony, which is recognizably Paton's. The speaker, like many others of his kind, is ecstatic that new rich goldfields have been discovered in the bare veld of the Orange Free State province, some way south of Johannesburg. Gold shares are shooting up in value, and all eyes are on South Africa; perhaps another Johannesburg will arise. The speaker's home language is English, and he complains comically that most goldmines have unpronounceable Afrikaans names. But he proclaims proudly the capitalist philosophy of the mines (as Harrison had in Chapter 4), maintaining that the wealth of the rich will help society in the long run, and he expresses scorn for those liberals and church people who think that the new profits might be spent directly on improving the lot of the poor. In the final paragraphs Paton speaks in his own voice: "mines are for men, not for money... No second Johannesburg is needed upon the earth. One is enough."
Chapter 24
Jarvis, who is more and more intrigued and challenged by his son's thoughts and activities, goes back to his study, and looks around again at the pictures and the books. He sits at his son's desk, opens the drawers, and comes upon various articles, among them a "Private Essay on the Evolution of a South African". In it Arthur speaks of his upbringing, which was honorable and good in many ways, but which taught him nothing at all about the painful social realities of South Africa. Jarvis is "shocked and hurt" to read this, and walks around, trying to come to terms with this new ultimatum issued unwittingly by his dead son. He returns to his son's papers, and reads his account of his aims in life—his determination to do not what is expedient, but what is right; to try humbly to avoid the contradictions that most white South Africans get tangled up in. "I am moved by something that is not my own, that moves me to do what is right, at whatever cost it may be." Jarvis is now totally under the spell of his son's life and thoughts. He walks away from the house with a quiet new resoluteness.
Chapter 25
Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis, on a day when the court is not in session, relax with a niece in Springs. While the two women go to the town, Jarvis stays in the house. There is a knock on the backdoor, and there stands an old black pastor, who immediately shows signs of acute distress and anxiety. (It is Stephen, delivering the message which he was given just before he stepped on to the train.) The pastor is overwhelmed and confused, much to the puzzlement of Jarvis. Then he recognizes that it is the priest from Ndotsheni. Jarvis says: "There is something between you and me, but I do not know what it is." Stephen finally, hesitantly, reveals the frightening truth: "It was my son that killed your son." Jarvis spends some minutes taking this in, and then tells Stephen that he is not angry. Stephen expresses his sorrow and sympathy. They speak a little about Arthur Jarvis, whom Stephen remembers as a boy "with a brightness in him"; and they are both deeply moved. An awkward but real rapport is established between them. Stephen then leaves by the back gate ("according to the custom"); Jarvis watches him intently as he departs.
Chapter 26
This chapter focuses on unrest in the country, unrest, which is both a backdrop to, and potentially a kind of enlarged version of, Absalom's crime and his trial. John Kumalo, with his "great bull voice", eloquently addresses a large gathering. He arouses the crowd's emotions, but only to a certain point. The workers are demanding, he says, not the gold mines but a share in their wealth; they need better wages: why should the poor stay poor while the rich get richer? Various people offer their views of John Kumalo's speech. The policemen present regard him as dangerous yet ultimately cowardly. Stephen is very impressed. Msimangu acknowledges the power of his utterance but sees him as unwilling to make sacrifices. Jarvis and John Harrison are there too; Jarvis says he doesn't care for this kind of thing. Will there be a strike, a strike, which might spread and disrupt the whole country? "The strike has come and gone." It did not spread beyond the mines. A church leader says that the mine-workers' union should be recognized, but the official view is that the trouble is over and that "all is quiet". But things are never really quiet.
Chapter 27
Mrs. Lithebe, ever wise and good, speaks urgently to Gertrude, whom she still finds, unlike Absalom's girlfriend, slack in her ways and in her talk. Gertrude is restless and unhappy. Someone brings the newspaper: there has been another murder of a white person by a black housebreaker. This news item, worrying in itself, is especially so just before the conclusion of Absalom's trial. Msimangu arranges that they all eat at Mrs. Lithebe's house, to prevent Stephen from seeing the newspaper headline. Later Gertrude, suddenly inspired (or apparently inspired) by a talk they have just heard, tells Mrs. Lithebe that she thinks she would like to become a nun. Mrs. Lithebe is delighted, but says that Gertrude must of course wait in order to test her vocation. Gertrude then whispers her idea to Absalom's girlfriend, and is assured by her that, if Gertrude left them, she would look after her son.
Chapter 28
We are back in the solemn courtroom. The judge delivers his judgment. He deals first with Absalom's two co-accused. At the conclusion of a fairly tortuous argument, which involves problems associated with an identification parade—an argument about which the reader must feel some doubt—the judge decides that the presence of the two at the crime scene cannot be conclusively established. They are therefore acquitted. He then focuses on Absalom, who has admitted that he shot Arthur but says that he had no prior intention of doing so. In response to arguments advanced by the defense, the judge concedes that South African society may be deeply flawed, but says that the law must still be upheld. He considers the facts of the case as he sees them, and says that, though Absalom has been a credible witness, he cannot discover any extenuating circumstances. He therefore finds him guilty, and condemns him to be hanged. The courtroom is full of emotion. Absalom "falls to the floor, crying and sobbing." Women wail; Stephen cries, and is helped by Msimangu and by the young white official (who in so doing breaks the custom). Jarvis is there too, "stern and erect."
Chapter 29
Stephen and others visit Absalom in prison. Father Vincent marries Absalom and his girl, but the fairly bleak occasion generates little emotion. Stephen, heartbroken, is left to say farewell to his son. They talk of practical matters (Stephen departs the next day) and of the future of Absalom's wife and child, but then Absalom breaks down, and both of them are overcome by grief. Absalom clings desperately to Stephen as he leaves. Later Stephen pays a final visit to John. He does not reproach him, but advises him to care for his son Matthew and cautions him about his political views. Suddenly he cannot resist hurting John by pretending that a friend has betrayed him. John is anxious, then angry, and ejects his brother; Stephen is "humiliated and ashamed". We then see Jarvis about to leave Johannesburg: Harrison senior is pleased about the death sentence; his son is delighted at the money that Jarvis leaves for the boys' club. There is a farewell gathering at Mrs. Lithebe's: Msimangu announces that he is to retire into a religious community. He later gives his little remaining wealth to Stephen. In the morning, as Stephen prepares to depart, he finds that Gertrude has gone.
Chapter 30
Stephen and the girl and the little boy travel together on the long journey back to Ndotsheni. Stephen is met by his wife and a friend; he tells her the news of Absalom's sentence and she warmly welcomes Stephen and his companions home. As they walk towards home, Stephen is touched and heartened by the many people who rejoice at his return. But he is also made aware of the drought that is afflicting the land. The community puts on a welcoming ceremony for him next to the church, and Stephen prays not only about his return and about the need for rain but also—so supported does he feel by those around him—about things he had thought he would be too afraid to talk about: Gertrude and her son, and Absalom and his wife. Afterwards Stephen confides in his friend. He wonders whether, with an erring sister and son, he shouldn't move elsewhere, but his friend assures him that the community would dislike that. Stephen talks of his suffering but also of his consolations: "I have learned that kindness and love can pay for pain and suffering." He then returns home to his new, enlarged family. He tells his wife about Msimangu's generous gift.
Chapter 31
The Johannesburg experience has spurred Stephen on. He prays for the restoration of Ndotsheni, but he feels too that he must do something. The desolateness of the land, exacerbated now by the drought, is vividly evoked. Stephen visits the most influential men in the area, the chief and the headmaster, but both encounters are futile, almost farcical. He is left feeling depressed, but his mood is lightened by the visit of a young white boy who arrives on horseback. Stephen realizes at once that it is Arthur's son. The boy is bright, innocent and friendly; he has begun to learn Zulu and seems to have a creative inquisitiveness. But the disparity between the lives of the rich and the poor is starkly exposed when he asks for a glass of milk and is told that there is no milk in Ndotsheni, and that children are dying. He returns home in a sober mood. Later that evening a cart arrives with full milk cans; they are from Jarvis, and they will be sent every evening until the drought breaks. For Stephen this is a message from the God to whom he has been praying, and he is suddenly convulsed with laughter.
Chapter 32
Stephen and his wife receive three letters: one is from Mr. Carmichael, saying that there is to be no reprieve for Absalom; the second is from Absalom himself; the third is from Msimangu. Stephen and his wife grieve deeply. Meanwhile dark clouds appear in the sky: the drought is about to break. Jarvis, the chief, the magistrate and various others have a meeting near the church, do some surveying, and plant some sticks and flags in the ground. Stephen and the community, looking on, are puzzled. Then the huge storm bursts; with its thunder, lightning and torrential rain, it presents a life-giving drama which we feel is not unrelated to the events of the main story. Jarvis is trapped by the rain, and seeks shelter in Stephen's church; Stephen accompanies him there. The old iron-roofed church leaks, and in a poignant and half-comic scene Jarvis and Stephen move from place to place, trying to dodge the water that is pouring in. Jarvis asks if there has been mercy for Absalom; when told the answer, he says he will remember him on the day. After the downpour, the Ndotsheni community is left contemplating the strange sticks.
Chapter 33
Stephen continues to hope and pray for the restoration of Ndotsheni. He has a sense that Jarvis, who is away in Pretoria, might help to perform the miracle that he is hoping for. The cheerful young white boy pays another visit, and learns some more Zulu. He meets Stephen's wife, but she is overcome when she realizes who he is. As he departs, his grandfather arrives, and drops a newcomer in Ndotsheni: it is Napoleon Letsisi, the new agricultural demonstrator. He is warm and idealistic, and sketches for Stephen, who is excited, his plans for reviving the agricultural life of the valley. He speaks (but in non-technical language) of composting, contour ploughing, tree planting, and the prevention of soil erosion; and also of the need for education and for the modification of certain customs. He confirms that the mysterious sticks indicate that a dam is to be built, with water piped from the river. Stephen, delighted, sees Letsisi as "an angel from God". The bright boy drops in to say goodbye; Stephen regards him as a "small angel from God". But he hopes that the restoration may come before he dies—"for I have lived my life in destruction."
Chapter 34
As storm clouds gather and the people wait for the Bishop's visit, news is brought that Jarvis's wife has died. The community is sad, as she was admired, but Stephen is particularly distressed, as she has clearly encouraged Jarvis's generosity.He fears that her son's death may have precipitated hers. He sends a message of sympathy. The Bishop arrives, it rains heavily, and the confirmation takes place in the leaking church. Afterwards the Bishop strongly suggests to Stephen that, in view of recent events and of the need to collect money for a new church, he should move. Stephen is overwhelmed, in tears, and is unable to explain his position or his feelings. At this moment a letter for Stephen is brought in. In it Jarvis thanks him for his sympathy and prayers, says that he and his wife had decided to have a new church built at Ndotsheni, and that she had been ill for some time. Stephen proclaims joyfully that the letter comes from God, and tells the Bishop what has been happening; the Bishop is touched, and withdraws his proposal that Stephen should move. Stephen is spiritually uplifted. The community makes a wreath for the funeral.
Chapter 35
Things are beginning to happen in the Ndotsheni Valley. Under the supervision of Letsisi, who is backed by the chief, the people plough along the contours, and collect dung, and prepare to plant wattles. But it is not easy going: the soil is very poor, and a great deal has to be done, and people are reluctant to make the sacrifices that are required. Still, something is beginning. Stephen speaks admiringly to the young Letsisi, but a difference in their views becomes apparent. Stephen, old and fairly conservative, feels that one should be grateful for the bounty of Jarvis, but Letsisi, without calling Jarvis's goodness into question, insists that, in the context of past exploitation by whites, Jarvis's gifts have to be seen as a repayment. Stephen regards this way of thinking as unpleasant and ungrateful. Letsisi assures him that he is not seeking power, or advocating hatred or any particular political position; he simply believes that blacks should recognize their rights, work for Africa, and be beholden to no one. Stephen acknowledges Letsisi's sincerity, and, left alone beneath the stars, admits to himself that he is too old for new and disturbing thoughts.
Chapter 36
It is the day before Absalom's execution, and Stephen begins at dusk to walk up a nearby mountain for a vigil, as he has done before on momentous occasions. He comes upon Jarvis on his horse. Jarvis speaks of plans for the new church, and they talk enthusiastically about Letsisi and the boy. Stephen thanks Jarvis for all that he is doing; Jarvis is modestly dismissive. Stephen climbs slowly up to his chosen place. He dwells first on his son's tragic fate. Then he confesses his sins, and runs through the imperfections we have seen in him. He then counts and gives thanks for his blessings, which he enumerates—and his meditative prayer serves as a recapitulation of some of the main events in the story. For all his suffering, he considers himself blessed. He thinks of and prays for those he knows who are suffering, especially Absalom, who will die as the sun rises; and also all the people of South Africa, many of whom are afflicted by fear. As dawn approaches, he imagines his son's last hours, and goes through them with him. Then the sun rises: it is the moment of death but also of sober hope.
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The opening chapter, which is almost a prose poem, introduces us to two adjacent country sides near the South African village of Ixopo—countrysides which represent the two worlds of the novel. Rich damp matted grass on the upland is an indication of the well-tended ground of a well-to-do white farmer. Desolate red soil in the valley, eroded and over-grazed and burned by many fires, is the context of the poor Africans living nearby. So poor has the soil become that most black people have moved away. The drama of the novel grows out of the co-existence of these two South Africas. In many parts of the novel, too, there is an underlying sense that a good use of the soil is related to the health of human society.
Chapter 2
We are introduced to the Reverend Stephen Kumalo, the novel's main character. He is the priest of the impoverished parish at Ndotsheni, near Ixopo. A child brings from the storekeeper a letter from Johannesburg. A letter is something rare and momentous, and Stephen and his wife open it with trepidation: his brother John, his younger sister Gertrude, and, most important, their only child, Absalom, have all gone to the big city, and none of them has returned. The letter is from a fellow priest, Theophilus Msimangu, who says that Gertrude is "very sick"; he asks Stephen to come to Johannesburg quickly. Stephen does not know Msimangu and he has never been to Johannesburg. But, after moments of tension in which the pain of their son's absence flows to the surface, Stephen decides, partly prompted by his wife, that he must go at once. They scrape together what little money they have; much of it had been saved for the day—clearly never to occur—when Absalom would return home and go to high school. "All roads lead to Johannesburg." Stephen prays in his church and prepares for the long train journey. His wife endures it all, suffering in silence.
Chapter 3
Stephen waits for the little train that will take him on the first leg of his journey. The narrator speaks of the beauty of the hills, the richness of the vegetation, and the sense of mystery conjured up by the mist (Paton was an ardent naturalist); but his chief concern is to take us inside the mind of Stephen, which is dwelling on very different matters: his worry about his sister and, more deeply, his son, and his anxiety about the big city of which he has heard so much. A friend asks Stephen to enquire after someone who had gone to Springs (near Johannesburg) but has ceased writing letters home—yet another instance of the way the big city seems to dismantle families. Stephen gets into the train, saying something—which will give people (who in any case respect the pastor, the 'umfundisi') a sense that he knows Johannesburg well. But beneath this little act of vanity, which he regrets, there are his deep fears of the unknown world he is about to enter, and his unformulated sense that the secure world that he knows is "is slipping away, dying". Humbly, he takes refuge in his "sacred book".
Chapter 4
We go through his new experiences with Stephen: the two trains to Pietermaritzburg, then the mainline overnight train to Johannesburg. Those who share his compartment point out the sights to him as they approach the city: the mine dumps, the mines, the size and density of the city's buildings. Stephen is overawed. When they reach the station and the crowded streets, he is afraid and confused, and within a few minutes he has been conned by a young man who, pretending to buy him a bus ticket, pockets the pound that the innocent pastor gives him. He is then helped by another, kindly man, who offers to accompany him to the Mission House at Sophiatown, where Msimangu lives. (This pattern of a bad experience followed by a better one occurs frequently in the novel.) They make their way through the teeming city, by bus and then by foot. Msimangu, "a young tall man in clerical dress," welcomes Stephen warmly. Exhausted by his journey and his many new impressions, he is pleased for the time being to relax in Msimangu's company.
Chapter 5
Stephen speaks at dinner with a group of priests. He talks of his home and of the way the traditional structures of African life are being broken down, and the others give him the Johannesburg end of the same story: a lack of social cohesion, and black crime, which frightens white citizens. Msimangu and Stephen then talk together. Msimangu tells him that Gertrude has become a prostitute and a shebeen queen. Stephen is deeply shocked. They will go tomorrow to see her. Stephen then brings out the story of Absalom; he feels all the more anxious about him after what he has just heard of the prevalence of crime. Msimangu says they will search for him together. They are both humble religious people, and wish to pray about these matters. Stephen then mentions his brother John. Msimangu knows him: he has given up the church and become a well-known politician. He then speaks about what in his view is happening in the country: the old structures are indeed breaking down; nothing can prevent that. But those whom it suited to break the structures, the white people, have made no attempt to build something in their place. Yet some white people care.
Chapter 6
As Msimangu and Stephen make their way towards the run-down area of Claremont, where Gertrude lives, the former discusses some aspects of the racial and social situation in the country. Stephen goes in to see Gertrude by himself. There is a pained, awkward dialogue between them. He is appalled and embarrassed, but finally angry. She is contrite and also afraid, and bursts into sobbing. He asks if she wishes to come back with him, she and her child, and (to our surprise) she says she does, and weeps more uncontrollably. At this Stephen is overwhelmed with compassion: "God forgives us, he says. Who am I not to forgive? Let us pray." They are reconciled. Stephen then asks her about Absalom, and she is able to offer some help: Absalom has been a friend of the son of their brother John, whom Stephen now wishes to visit. Stephen then meets Gertrude's son, and is touched by him. Later in the day Gertrude, her son and her belongings are taken from the house in Claremont, and she comes to stay with the kindly Mrs. Lithebe, who is also putting Stephen up. He ends the day feeling that things are going well.
Chapter 7
Poor though he is, Stephen buys some new clothes for Gertrude and her son, who seem happy. Msimangu takes Stephen to visit John. Stephen chides his brother for having left his first wife and the church, but John, a passionate politician with a bull-like voice, tells Stephen that the old order is changing, and the center of this change is Johannesburg, which is a place of opportunity, since Africans are beginning to realize themselves, but a place of strife too, because blacks are unjustly treated by whites. Stephen then asks about Absalom; John can tell them a little, for his own son has left home. Msimangu and Stephen discuss what John has said. Msimangu agrees with much of it, but fears that a politician like John could easily become corrupt. He feels that the only hope for the country is if whites and blacks can learn to work together for the common good. Love is needed; but he says, "I have one great fear in my heart, that one day when they are turned to loving, they will find we are turned to hating." They then begin the search for Absalom, following leads, going from place to place.
Chapter 8
Stephen and Msimangu, now firm friends, in their search for Absalom set off for Alexandra, eleven miles from the centre of Johannesburg. They encounter a bus boycott, mounted to object to a fare increase, and are persuaded to walk the distance; but after a while they are given a lift by a sympathetic white man. Msimangu speaks of the problems caused by crime, and of the varying white reactions to the issue. They then visit Mrs. Mkize, with whom Absalom and his cousin stayed a year or so ago. She is afraid, partly because she thinks they may come from the police. She does not know where the young men have gone, but in response to the pleas of Msimangu finally tells him that the two had obviously been engaging in theft. She puts Msimangu and Stephen on to a taxi-driver who had been friendly with Absalom and his cousin. He is afraid too, but suggests that they go to Shanty Town, the squatter settlement. They return by taxi to Johannesburg, passing the thousands of walking bus boycotters, and the sprinkling of white drivers irritating the police by offering their assistance to some of the walkers.
Chapter 9
The novelist constantly offers, in dramatized form, salient relevant South African socio-political realities, with all their injustices and imbalances. Thus he gives his central story a representative edge, indeed makes it symbolic of the country's tragic and dangerous tensions. In this chapter, a series of vignettes highlight some of the social problems of African people in Johannesburg, into which more and more people are moving: poverty, overcrowding, a drastic shortage of housing and accommodation, bribery, a lack of privacy, the constant fear of sexual misdemeanors, theft, and other forms of crime. In a further series of vignettes—fictionalized, but close to the historical reality—we see homeless people getting together, forming a committee (headed by Dubula, who was also involved in the bus boycott), and building Shanty Town overnight, and, while all this happens, the grief of a mother as her young child sickens and dies. We see Shanty Town growing, and the white authorities attempting to deal with it as a new problem. The squatter settlement becomes famous overnight. But how will those living in shacks made of wooden poles, iron and sacking cope in the rain and in the winter?
Chapter 10
Waiting for Msimangu, Stephen plays happily with his little nephew, with whom he is more relaxed than with Gertrude; but his joy evaporates when he remembers the lost Absalom; but then the memory of his wife, friends and home lifts his spirits somewhat. Paton ponders on the mysterious interplay between comfort and desolation. Stephen and Msimangu renew their search. They go first to Shanty Town, and learn that Absalom was taken by the police and later sent to the reformatory (a place where, in real life, Paton was principal). His father is devastated. They make their way to the reformatory, where they are told by a young white official that Absalom, who had said that he had no family, has been released, because he had behaved well, work had been found for him, and the girl he wished to marry was pregnant. The official drives them to Pimville where the couple is staying, but they are all appalled to discover from the young woman that Absalom has disappeared. The official feels a sense of failure, Stephen is overwhelmed with grief but sorry for the girl, Msimangu has a rare outburst of angry bitterness, for which he later apologizes to Stephen.
Chapter 11
Feeling that Stephen needs a break, Msimangu suggests that before long they go together to visit Ezenzeleni, the Anglican mission to the blind: "It will lift your spirits." But that evening the headline of the evening paper tells of a murder in Saxonwold, one of the white suburbs. Arthur Jarvis, a young engineer and noted liberal, has been shot by intruders who are thought to be (in the white parlance of the time) "natives". Jarvis happens to come from the Ixopo district: his father, whom Stephen recognizes but has never spoken to, is the owner of a nearby farm; in fact Stephen dimly remembers the son as a young bright boy. The police are searching for the culprits; they hope that the domestic worker, knocked out by the intruders, will be able to help them when he recovers consciousness. All those in the Mission House are silenced, sad and anxious. "Cry for the broken tribe, for the law and the custom that is gone...Cry, the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end." Stephen is deeply fearful, improbable though it is that Absalom could be involved. He tells Msimangu that his ability to pray has dried up.
Chapter 12
"Have no doubt it is fear in the land." The first half of the chapter conjures up, through a series of vividly presented statements, conversations and speeches, the anxiety of white Johannesburgers, and the mixture of views that they put forward, ranging from the right wing to the liberal. They discuss not only crime, but race relations more generally, and education, and the organization of society. There are no easy solutions to society's problems, especially as the whites take their own privileged status for granted. "Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child who is the inheritor of our fear." We then swing back into the main storyline. Msimangu is informed that Absalom is being sought by the police. He tries to conceal this from Stephen, but fails, and the two of them set out by taxi to retrace their earlier steps. All the people they call on tell them that the police have come, looking for Absalom, and it seems very serious. Eventually they reach Absalom's girlfriend, who tells them that the police have just left. She is distraught and terrified. Meanwhile, as they return sadly home, Stephen is cold with anguish. Msimangu attempts to comfort him.
Chapter 13
They pay their visit to Ezenzeleni, but Stephen has no heart for sightseeing, and is left to meditate. He broods unhappily. Some thoughts console him, he has momentary visions of a reconstituted family at Ndotsheni; but he is deeply oppressed by his fear for Absalom, and his anxiety about the destruction of the traditional African social order. He ends up in despair, but Msimangu, as a fellow priest, chides him, and he accepts the admonition. We then get a glimpse of the creative work that is done for and with blind people at the mission. Then Msimangu preaches. He speaks particularly to those with "blind eyes", but it soon becomes clear to Stephen that he is speaking to him too, encouraging his audience with the message of God's bounty and his ability to turn darkness into light. Msimangu speaks eloquently. Stephen is moved, and his faith is renewed. But there is a final twist: some say that Msimangu, without realising it, is helping the white government, as "he touches people at the hearts, and sends them marching to heaven instead of to Pretoria". So the enigma of how best to approach the South African problem remains.
Chapter 14
Stephen seeks some solace with Mrs. Lithebe, Gertrude and her son; but Msimangu and the young white reformatory official arrive with very grim news. Stephen's worst fears are realized: Absalom, his cousin and another have been arrested for the murder of Jarvis; it was Absalom who fired the shot. Stephen is stunned by the blow: he behaves erratically, and seems suddenly aged. They go to his brother John, who, having greeted them jovially, is shocked by the news. Then they all go off to the great prison, where the brothers meet their sons in separate rooms. Stephen's encounter with Absalom is deeply unsatisfactory. The father overwhelms the son with questions, but the latter has very little to say by way of answer or explanation. They torture each other; we are shown something of Absalom's pained bewilderment as well as that of his father. Absalom does say, however, that he wishes to marry the girl. After the interview Stephen speaks to John, who suggests that he'll employ a lawyer to argue that his son wasn't present at the scene of the crime. It is now the turn of the official, in his grieving frustration, to behave oddly. It is a bleak situation.
Chapter 15
The young official comes to Stephen to apologize for his irrational outburst. He thinks Stephen should engage a lawyer, and the two of them go to Father Vincent, a sympathetic priest from England, who knows of a good advocate whom they can approach. The two priests are then alone, and Stephen pours out his distress. Father Vincent is moved and overwhelmed, and tries to offer some consolation. Stephen describes the pain of his journey, the suspense, the final revelation of Absalom's crime, and his sense that this horror had been building for so long. Father Vincent says, tentatively and gently, "Fear is a journey, a terrible journey, but sorrow is at least an arriving." But Stephen, who is appalled by his son's act—murdering a generous and talented young husband and father—and by his apparent incapacity to understand or to feel remorse, is inconsolable. Father Vincent then speaks to him as a priest, tells him to rest, and offers him a way of getting things into some perspective and directing his prayers: one has to try to accept God's incomprehensibility, and there are many things to pray about, and also things to be grateful for. Stephen accepts all this.
Chapter 16
Stephen goes by himself to visit Absalom's girlfriend. He tells her of Absalom's imprisonment, and then of his crime. She is aghast. He asks her if she wants to marry Absalom. She says yes, but in a listless, unemphatic way rather reminiscent of Absalom's replies to his father's questions in their prison encounter. Stephen questions her further, about her family background, her difficult life, and her rather lax and blurred moral values. He is then angered by her and feels a strange desire to be hurtful. He asks if she will take another lover, and then, wildly, if she would accept him as a lover. She is very confused by this, but then says that she "could be willing". He covers his face with his hands; she weeps; and he is ashamed "for his cruelty, not her compliance". He apologizes. This moment brings them closer together. He asks her if she would like to marry Absalom, then come with her child to Ndotsheni and become his daughter, and she says yes with real feeling. They are both suddenly happy; and Stephen feels that some of his pain has been lifted from him. He remembers that Father Vincent is praying for him.
Chapter 17
The kind Mrs. Lithebe observes those staying in her house: the good but suffering Stephen Kumalo, the child who at time brightens his mood, and his mother Gertrude, who is pleasant but whose laughter is sometimes "careless". Stephen humbly asks Mrs. Lithebe if Absalom's girl can come and stay there too. She says yes, and the girl comes, and, unlike Gertrude, is warmly grateful and accepts Mrs. Lithebe's tutelage. Stephen visits his son again, and finds him depressed. Absalom knows now that his two accomplices will deny that they were present at the murder scene, and he is relieved to learn that he is to have a lawyer. His father gets angry with him again, but then relents, seeing his son's distress. After this they feel closer. Stephen tells him that Father Vincent is arranging the marriage and that his wife-to-be will be coming back to Ndotsheni. Absalom is pleased. The advocate, Mr. Carmichael, then speaks to Absalom, and later explains to Stephen how he will approach the case. Stephen is anxious about the cost of the lawyer, but is told that Carmichael will take the case pro deo (without payment, literally "for God"). Stephen is grateful and moved.
Chapter 18
The first paragraph of this chapter repeats the memorable opening paragraph of Book One: we are back in the lovely Ixopo district, but now on the prosperous high farm of James Jarvis (already mentioned in Chapter 11). Jarvis climbs up to "the tops" on his land, partly to enjoy the view of the great Umzimkulu Valley, and worries about the drought, and about the problems of soil erosion and the inadequate farming methods employed by Africans. Then he sees policemen drive into the farm and begin walking up the slope towards him. The captain breaks to Jarvis the news of the death of his son Arthur, shot by an intruder that afternoon in his home. Jarvis is shocked, stunned. He accepts the police offer of an airplane trip to Johannesburg, and then, as the captain makes the necessary phone call, breaks the terrible news to his wife, whom we hear "crying and sobbing."
Chapter 19
The senior Jarvises are welcomed and accommodated in Johannesburg by the Harrisons, the parents of Mary, Arthur's widow. Mary and her mother-in-law console each other in their grief. Once the formalities at the mortuary are concluded, Harrison senior and Jarvis talk sadly about Arthur. John Harrison, Mary's brother, admired Arthur intensely, but his father and Jarvis, white South Africans of the older generation, have never had much sympathy for or understanding of liberal attitudes towards black people. But Jarvis liked his son, and the two of them are impressed by the variety of people who have sent in messages of sympathy. Harrison speaks of the causes that Arthur espoused and the chances that he was prepared to take in pursuance of his beliefs. Jarvis is conscious that his son had traveled into territory that is unknown to him—though it may not be wholly unknown to his wife—and he feels rather challenged by this. He tells his wife that he wishes he had known his son more fully. He also cannot understand how this could have happened to someone like Arthur. The two embrace in their pain and sorrow.
Chapter 20
His wife and daughter-in-law having returned to the Harrisons' house, James Jarvis sits alone in his son's study. He looks at Arthur's papers, among them many letters of invitation to meetings and gatherings of various kinds; letters of thanks, too. He looks at some of the books in his son's large collection: a whole bookcase full of books on Abraham Lincoln, and books on South African history, wildlife, religion, politics, criminology; and literary works. There are pictures too, one of Christ crucified, one of Lincoln, two of South African scenes. He finds an uncompleted essay that Arthur was writing, in which he distinguishes between what was permissible and what was not permissible in the actions of white people and governments. He suggests that it was all right to develop the country, but that it was never right to exploit human beings. In words reminiscent of those of Msimangu, he notes and regrets the disintegration of traditional tribal values, and insists that the ruling whites have a moral duty to devise an honest and fair solution to the social problem that has developed. Jarvis senior is interested and touched by all this. Deep in thought, he begins his walk home.
Chapter 21
The funeral, with the presence of so many people of different races and a moving speech by the bishop, makes a great impact on Jarvis. He talks to Harrison, who speaks about the police investigation of the murder and more generally about African crime, and then offers a defense of the mines and their practices and a strongly conservative assessment of the socio-political situation. His son John says that Arthur would have challenged Harrison's views, and Jarvis wishes that he could have heard his son do so. He asks John if he will later take him to visit the Boys' Club that Arthur supported. The next morning, after giving more news of the police investigation, Harrison hands to Jarvis the manuscript on "native crime" that Arthur was working on when he was killed. Jarvis dwells painfully on the fact of Arthur's death, but then focuses on his words. Arthur points out eloquently that Christians are caught up in contradictions. They wish to follow the Gospel precepts, but because of their prejudices and fears they cannot bring themselves to do so. Jarvis is "deeply moved". His son's words and allegiances are beginning to resonate in his mind.
Chapter 22
We are in the courtroom, for the trial of Absalom and his two associates. The atmosphere is solemn; in the public gallery, whites and "non-Europeans" are segregated, "according to the custom" (the novel was written before the introduction of formal Apartheid). We are told that the judges are incorruptible in their allegiance to the Law, but that the Law, made by white people, is not necessarily just. The trial begins. Absalom is questioned by the prosecutor and by the judge. We believe his vivid account of what happened: the three of them broke into the house, Pafuri struck the domestic servant, Arthur Jarvis appeared, and Absalom, who was carrying a revolver as a precaution, panicked and shot Jarvis, without meaning to kill him; then they ran away. The sharp questions thrown at Absalom, however, both confuse him a little and reveal the points where his motivations had not been thought through. The other two accused will claim that they were not at the scene. The court is adjourned, and the whites and the blacks leave through their separate doors. Stephen catches sight of James Jarvis, whose son his son has killed. He trembles, and turns away in fear and anguish.
Chapter 23
This chapter is an interlude, though its theme is related to one of the central concerns of the novel. It is spoken by a white South African much interested in money, but what he says is shot through with an irony, which is recognizably Paton's. The speaker, like many others of his kind, is ecstatic that new rich goldfields have been discovered in the bare veld of the Orange Free State province, some way south of Johannesburg. Gold shares are shooting up in value, and all eyes are on South Africa; perhaps another Johannesburg will arise. The speaker's home language is English, and he complains comically that most goldmines have unpronounceable Afrikaans names. But he proclaims proudly the capitalist philosophy of the mines (as Harrison had in Chapter 4), maintaining that the wealth of the rich will help society in the long run, and he expresses scorn for those liberals and church people who think that the new profits might be spent directly on improving the lot of the poor. In the final paragraphs Paton speaks in his own voice: "mines are for men, not for money... No second Johannesburg is needed upon the earth. One is enough."
Chapter 24
Jarvis, who is more and more intrigued and challenged by his son's thoughts and activities, goes back to his study, and looks around again at the pictures and the books. He sits at his son's desk, opens the drawers, and comes upon various articles, among them a "Private Essay on the Evolution of a South African". In it Arthur speaks of his upbringing, which was honorable and good in many ways, but which taught him nothing at all about the painful social realities of South Africa. Jarvis is "shocked and hurt" to read this, and walks around, trying to come to terms with this new ultimatum issued unwittingly by his dead son. He returns to his son's papers, and reads his account of his aims in life—his determination to do not what is expedient, but what is right; to try humbly to avoid the contradictions that most white South Africans get tangled up in. "I am moved by something that is not my own, that moves me to do what is right, at whatever cost it may be." Jarvis is now totally under the spell of his son's life and thoughts. He walks away from the house with a quiet new resoluteness.
Chapter 25
Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis, on a day when the court is not in session, relax with a niece in Springs. While the two women go to the town, Jarvis stays in the house. There is a knock on the backdoor, and there stands an old black pastor, who immediately shows signs of acute distress and anxiety. (It is Stephen, delivering the message which he was given just before he stepped on to the train.) The pastor is overwhelmed and confused, much to the puzzlement of Jarvis. Then he recognizes that it is the priest from Ndotsheni. Jarvis says: "There is something between you and me, but I do not know what it is." Stephen finally, hesitantly, reveals the frightening truth: "It was my son that killed your son." Jarvis spends some minutes taking this in, and then tells Stephen that he is not angry. Stephen expresses his sorrow and sympathy. They speak a little about Arthur Jarvis, whom Stephen remembers as a boy "with a brightness in him"; and they are both deeply moved. An awkward but real rapport is established between them. Stephen then leaves by the back gate ("according to the custom"); Jarvis watches him intently as he departs.
Chapter 26
This chapter focuses on unrest in the country, unrest, which is both a backdrop to, and potentially a kind of enlarged version of, Absalom's crime and his trial. John Kumalo, with his "great bull voice", eloquently addresses a large gathering. He arouses the crowd's emotions, but only to a certain point. The workers are demanding, he says, not the gold mines but a share in their wealth; they need better wages: why should the poor stay poor while the rich get richer? Various people offer their views of John Kumalo's speech. The policemen present regard him as dangerous yet ultimately cowardly. Stephen is very impressed. Msimangu acknowledges the power of his utterance but sees him as unwilling to make sacrifices. Jarvis and John Harrison are there too; Jarvis says he doesn't care for this kind of thing. Will there be a strike, a strike, which might spread and disrupt the whole country? "The strike has come and gone." It did not spread beyond the mines. A church leader says that the mine-workers' union should be recognized, but the official view is that the trouble is over and that "all is quiet". But things are never really quiet.
Chapter 27
Mrs. Lithebe, ever wise and good, speaks urgently to Gertrude, whom she still finds, unlike Absalom's girlfriend, slack in her ways and in her talk. Gertrude is restless and unhappy. Someone brings the newspaper: there has been another murder of a white person by a black housebreaker. This news item, worrying in itself, is especially so just before the conclusion of Absalom's trial. Msimangu arranges that they all eat at Mrs. Lithebe's house, to prevent Stephen from seeing the newspaper headline. Later Gertrude, suddenly inspired (or apparently inspired) by a talk they have just heard, tells Mrs. Lithebe that she thinks she would like to become a nun. Mrs. Lithebe is delighted, but says that Gertrude must of course wait in order to test her vocation. Gertrude then whispers her idea to Absalom's girlfriend, and is assured by her that, if Gertrude left them, she would look after her son.
Chapter 28
We are back in the solemn courtroom. The judge delivers his judgment. He deals first with Absalom's two co-accused. At the conclusion of a fairly tortuous argument, which involves problems associated with an identification parade—an argument about which the reader must feel some doubt—the judge decides that the presence of the two at the crime scene cannot be conclusively established. They are therefore acquitted. He then focuses on Absalom, who has admitted that he shot Arthur but says that he had no prior intention of doing so. In response to arguments advanced by the defense, the judge concedes that South African society may be deeply flawed, but says that the law must still be upheld. He considers the facts of the case as he sees them, and says that, though Absalom has been a credible witness, he cannot discover any extenuating circumstances. He therefore finds him guilty, and condemns him to be hanged. The courtroom is full of emotion. Absalom "falls to the floor, crying and sobbing." Women wail; Stephen cries, and is helped by Msimangu and by the young white official (who in so doing breaks the custom). Jarvis is there too, "stern and erect."
Chapter 29
Stephen and others visit Absalom in prison. Father Vincent marries Absalom and his girl, but the fairly bleak occasion generates little emotion. Stephen, heartbroken, is left to say farewell to his son. They talk of practical matters (Stephen departs the next day) and of the future of Absalom's wife and child, but then Absalom breaks down, and both of them are overcome by grief. Absalom clings desperately to Stephen as he leaves. Later Stephen pays a final visit to John. He does not reproach him, but advises him to care for his son Matthew and cautions him about his political views. Suddenly he cannot resist hurting John by pretending that a friend has betrayed him. John is anxious, then angry, and ejects his brother; Stephen is "humiliated and ashamed". We then see Jarvis about to leave Johannesburg: Harrison senior is pleased about the death sentence; his son is delighted at the money that Jarvis leaves for the boys' club. There is a farewell gathering at Mrs. Lithebe's: Msimangu announces that he is to retire into a religious community. He later gives his little remaining wealth to Stephen. In the morning, as Stephen prepares to depart, he finds that Gertrude has gone.
Chapter 30
Stephen and the girl and the little boy travel together on the long journey back to Ndotsheni. Stephen is met by his wife and a friend; he tells her the news of Absalom's sentence and she warmly welcomes Stephen and his companions home. As they walk towards home, Stephen is touched and heartened by the many people who rejoice at his return. But he is also made aware of the drought that is afflicting the land. The community puts on a welcoming ceremony for him next to the church, and Stephen prays not only about his return and about the need for rain but also—so supported does he feel by those around him—about things he had thought he would be too afraid to talk about: Gertrude and her son, and Absalom and his wife. Afterwards Stephen confides in his friend. He wonders whether, with an erring sister and son, he shouldn't move elsewhere, but his friend assures him that the community would dislike that. Stephen talks of his suffering but also of his consolations: "I have learned that kindness and love can pay for pain and suffering." He then returns home to his new, enlarged family. He tells his wife about Msimangu's generous gift.
Chapter 31
The Johannesburg experience has spurred Stephen on. He prays for the restoration of Ndotsheni, but he feels too that he must do something. The desolateness of the land, exacerbated now by the drought, is vividly evoked. Stephen visits the most influential men in the area, the chief and the headmaster, but both encounters are futile, almost farcical. He is left feeling depressed, but his mood is lightened by the visit of a young white boy who arrives on horseback. Stephen realizes at once that it is Arthur's son. The boy is bright, innocent and friendly; he has begun to learn Zulu and seems to have a creative inquisitiveness. But the disparity between the lives of the rich and the poor is starkly exposed when he asks for a glass of milk and is told that there is no milk in Ndotsheni, and that children are dying. He returns home in a sober mood. Later that evening a cart arrives with full milk cans; they are from Jarvis, and they will be sent every evening until the drought breaks. For Stephen this is a message from the God to whom he has been praying, and he is suddenly convulsed with laughter.
Chapter 32
Stephen and his wife receive three letters: one is from Mr. Carmichael, saying that there is to be no reprieve for Absalom; the second is from Absalom himself; the third is from Msimangu. Stephen and his wife grieve deeply. Meanwhile dark clouds appear in the sky: the drought is about to break. Jarvis, the chief, the magistrate and various others have a meeting near the church, do some surveying, and plant some sticks and flags in the ground. Stephen and the community, looking on, are puzzled. Then the huge storm bursts; with its thunder, lightning and torrential rain, it presents a life-giving drama which we feel is not unrelated to the events of the main story. Jarvis is trapped by the rain, and seeks shelter in Stephen's church; Stephen accompanies him there. The old iron-roofed church leaks, and in a poignant and half-comic scene Jarvis and Stephen move from place to place, trying to dodge the water that is pouring in. Jarvis asks if there has been mercy for Absalom; when told the answer, he says he will remember him on the day. After the downpour, the Ndotsheni community is left contemplating the strange sticks.
Chapter 33
Stephen continues to hope and pray for the restoration of Ndotsheni. He has a sense that Jarvis, who is away in Pretoria, might help to perform the miracle that he is hoping for. The cheerful young white boy pays another visit, and learns some more Zulu. He meets Stephen's wife, but she is overcome when she realizes who he is. As he departs, his grandfather arrives, and drops a newcomer in Ndotsheni: it is Napoleon Letsisi, the new agricultural demonstrator. He is warm and idealistic, and sketches for Stephen, who is excited, his plans for reviving the agricultural life of the valley. He speaks (but in non-technical language) of composting, contour ploughing, tree planting, and the prevention of soil erosion; and also of the need for education and for the modification of certain customs. He confirms that the mysterious sticks indicate that a dam is to be built, with water piped from the river. Stephen, delighted, sees Letsisi as "an angel from God". The bright boy drops in to say goodbye; Stephen regards him as a "small angel from God". But he hopes that the restoration may come before he dies—"for I have lived my life in destruction."
Chapter 34
As storm clouds gather and the people wait for the Bishop's visit, news is brought that Jarvis's wife has died. The community is sad, as she was admired, but Stephen is particularly distressed, as she has clearly encouraged Jarvis's generosity.He fears that her son's death may have precipitated hers. He sends a message of sympathy. The Bishop arrives, it rains heavily, and the confirmation takes place in the leaking church. Afterwards the Bishop strongly suggests to Stephen that, in view of recent events and of the need to collect money for a new church, he should move. Stephen is overwhelmed, in tears, and is unable to explain his position or his feelings. At this moment a letter for Stephen is brought in. In it Jarvis thanks him for his sympathy and prayers, says that he and his wife had decided to have a new church built at Ndotsheni, and that she had been ill for some time. Stephen proclaims joyfully that the letter comes from God, and tells the Bishop what has been happening; the Bishop is touched, and withdraws his proposal that Stephen should move. Stephen is spiritually uplifted. The community makes a wreath for the funeral.
Chapter 35
Things are beginning to happen in the Ndotsheni Valley. Under the supervision of Letsisi, who is backed by the chief, the people plough along the contours, and collect dung, and prepare to plant wattles. But it is not easy going: the soil is very poor, and a great deal has to be done, and people are reluctant to make the sacrifices that are required. Still, something is beginning. Stephen speaks admiringly to the young Letsisi, but a difference in their views becomes apparent. Stephen, old and fairly conservative, feels that one should be grateful for the bounty of Jarvis, but Letsisi, without calling Jarvis's goodness into question, insists that, in the context of past exploitation by whites, Jarvis's gifts have to be seen as a repayment. Stephen regards this way of thinking as unpleasant and ungrateful. Letsisi assures him that he is not seeking power, or advocating hatred or any particular political position; he simply believes that blacks should recognize their rights, work for Africa, and be beholden to no one. Stephen acknowledges Letsisi's sincerity, and, left alone beneath the stars, admits to himself that he is too old for new and disturbing thoughts.
Chapter 36
It is the day before Absalom's execution, and Stephen begins at dusk to walk up a nearby mountain for a vigil, as he has done before on momentous occasions. He comes upon Jarvis on his horse. Jarvis speaks of plans for the new church, and they talk enthusiastically about Letsisi and the boy. Stephen thanks Jarvis for all that he is doing; Jarvis is modestly dismissive. Stephen climbs slowly up to his chosen place. He dwells first on his son's tragic fate. Then he confesses his sins, and runs through the imperfections we have seen in him. He then counts and gives thanks for his blessings, which he enumerates—and his meditative prayer serves as a recapitulation of some of the main events in the story. For all his suffering, he considers himself blessed. He thinks of and prays for those he knows who are suffering, especially Absalom, who will die as the sun rises; and also all the people of South Africa, many of whom are afflicted by fear. As dawn approaches, he imagines his son's last hours, and goes through them with him. Then the sun rises: it is the moment of death but also of sober hope.
Get more resources on Cry, The Beloved Country, an Oprah's Book Club selection.View the Complete Oprah's Book Club List.
Published 09/29/2003
