Now I didn't think there was a book I couldn't finish, and normally I get through a book in a week maximum, but I have to admit this book defeated me. I'm not sure what it is, because the subject matter superficially attracted me - a politically active South African in the appartheid era escaping persecution - should be the recipe for a real page turner, but this is just tepid nonsense. The central character Jennie is so self obsessed and has an unrealistically romantic view of life that I felt like phoning the South African police and turning her in. A bit like the member of the audience at a particularly bad theatrical rendition of the Diary of Anne Frank who shouted 'She's in the attic' when the Nazi soldiers turned up. Anyway, Jennie has a feeling for music and sees it as the solution to everything - 'slow' children are cured through clapping and drumming workshops, Jennie meets an equally self centred composer called Neil who teaches her to play the viola without reading music - just being at one with the instrument. Even when she goes to Lusaka her notion of aiding the freedom fighters is to teach refugee children to discover empathy with the pulse of Africa through music. Please give me a break - overwhelming oppression? Take up a gourd and rattle some seeds. And oh the sentimentality about the purity of the African natural soul. Pass me a sick bucket! Rating: 3/10
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