The Gangster We Are All Looking For.

I thought that it was interesting how lê thi diem thúy's novel The Gangster We Are All Looking For takes up the discussion of the blend of fiction and auto-biography we had when reading Kingston. The book is classified as fiction, and that is correct and true, but I still can't get around the striking similarities between the narrator and the author. Both came form Vietnam by boat, both lost a sibling through drowning. Normally, I don't like to take the autobiographical approach to a text. But in this case, it is so interesting, especially since lê herself made some decisions that pint towards this interpretation.
First, the autobiographical information is given in the book itself. And not only by the publishing company, in which case one could have argued that they tried to force a autobiographical connection between author and work to raise public interest i the book. But lê also includes the autobiographical in her author's note.

Further, lê decides to keep the author nameless, which has two results. The narrator is of a more general, floating character, the reader can give the narrator more identity. But in this case it is very likely that the reader simply takes the name for the narrator closest available – the author's voice. Of course, it is quite common for authors to use a lot autobiographical background as inspiration, but still I would argue that in this case, the border between author and fictional narrator is exceptionally blurred.
I rarely read a novel in which case the comments on the back fit so well with my own perception of the book as in this case. The Vogue quote says: “Breathtaking [..] Flows in luminous paragraphs that mingle past and present, creating a fluid sense of time”. I couldn't say it differently. I especially liked how the quite short paragraphs were so divided from each other. Sometimes the paragraphs felt just like a little shot, a little glimpse of time, in some cases the book was almost impressionistic. I was fascinated how the narrative pace suddenly changed halfway through the book, and a more or less external account of immigration turned into a quite emotional family story. I felt like being in a narrative swirl. And what especially fascinated me was that although all three family members were struggling in their own way, I never saw them a completely detached from each other. Somehow there always seem a loving connection between them. The way it was narrated, for example, the makeup process between mother and father after drunken rage and arguments never seemed like a bad idea to me, as in other cases. Despite all the strangeness and problems, this family still seemed to belong to each other.

Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)

I always took Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre as an example of quintessential 'Englishness'. It might be influenced by contemporary media, as this setting of landed gentry or middle class on Victorian British Colonial time is often used as an example for a stereotypical portrait of an Englishmen – or woman.

Yet, after actually reading the book, I must partly revise my prior view - or prejudice – on Jane Eyre. Though the rules, values and habits of Victorian England are dominant in the novel, protagonist Jane is no mere 'Angel of the House' nor in attempting to be so, I'd say. Partly by own choice, partly by outside circumstances, Jane does not quite fit in, is in some ways 'outside' Victorian categories. At the same time she is living in, with and towards these moral ideal, conventions and expectations. In her position as a teacher, in her management of her relationship to Mr. Rochester and already as a small girl in Lockwood School, she is never 'improper' on own account. Yet, in a society built on hereditary status and heritage, she doesn't quite fit in as a self-dependent young woman. She seem to be trying to find her own categories for herself. She has no immediate family, no family support throughout most parts of her childhood. She cares for herself instead of relying on finding someone to marry. She is mainly led by her own moral and personal opinions, an often decides against otherwise promising options such as staying with Rochester despite finding out about Bertha Mason, or opting not to join her cousin St. John in matrimony and to go away from England as a missionary's wife.

Still, Jane is pretty much integrated into the society compared to the actual outside, haunting figure of the book. Knowing the information about the 'Bertha Mason' figure in advance, it was hard to see her as this haunting or ghostly figure or sentiment as she occurs in the book and I rather saw her as mysterious, but not in a ghostly way, but more as a unknown, as the actual outsider of a society that, although as I wrote above, Jane somehow positions herself as not fully integrated, but when comparing it to Bertha's position as 'mad woman', she is perfectly normal and integrated.

Tsotsi

I think it is interesting that this South African movie with critical acclaim and international recognition, is based on a type of plot that is so often used in big budget mainstream Hollywood movies – the Gangster story. Brooding, introverted and troubled gang leader, loyal friends that act as an comic relief that has no real relief to offer. The opposing gang, the gang member that pushes and provokes the alpha male on the gang until he is beat up and kicked out of the gangs or leaves it. These are all reoccurring themes that all can also be found in common American, Western films of this genre.

Nevertheless, Tsotsi is no conventional Western Gangster format. This is partly because of the soundtrack. The African rhythms and language infuse the Hip Hop and give a special touch to at least from the perspective of a Westerner used to American Gangster movies and American Gangsta Rap.

I think this movie by Gavin Hood achieves two things: On the one hand, it is a wonderful study of the character of the protagonist David “Tsotsi”, played by Presley Chweneyagae. Especially in his development after the accidental kidnapping of the infant. This responsibility of taking care of the child almost cracks the hard shell of this hard and brutal emotionally detached man. It's at the same time humorous, heart-wrenching and crass to see how he at first uses the tools he knows – brutality and crime – to care for the baby. Breaking into the mother's home to steal baby stuff, getting a young woman to breast feed the baby at gunpoint. Surely at first he only keeps the baby in order not to be caught, but he grows to like an love the baby and only heavy heartedly can give it back to the parents. But this personal story is not the only main theme.

I think, without knowing the country myself, this movie portrays the situation in South Africa today without glorifying or ridiculing any side or aspect. Life in townships is contrasted to more affluent parts of town. I think it's very significant that the rich parents are also black, clearly showing that the harshest divide in South African society at the moment is between rich and poor, not so much between black and white. The mixed couple of Police detectives add to this impression. The brutality is neither glorified nor overly morally condemned from above, but shown in its horrifying, self-explanatory fashion.

The almost complete speechlessness of the main character contrasts interestingly to the hectic, loud and a times even joyful surroundings. This paints a pretty complex picture that is both specific and universal.