The Hum of the Sun
AS I READ a moving, devastating tale of an autistic child and his older brother, flung homeless and family-less into the world, I could not help but think back to the film how brilliant performances from Dustin Hoffman and Tom Cruise left a lasting impression of life’s too often sad consequences – as does this novel by Kirsten Miller.
Miller, a South African writer and artist, in her first published work
told an autobiographical tale of her time as a tutor of autistic children. In it she clearly delineated almost insurmountable challenges faced by those who care for such children, the effect on their families and how it all impacted on her personal life
Then, a novel – set in Zululand – was shortlisted for the 2005 European Union Literary Award and in 2014 another novel a spot-on story of love and growing up, of exclusion and abuse appeared.
The won the 2016 Wilbur and Niso Smith Foundation Prize for best unpublished manuscript.
No one can claim to fully understand autism, a range of conditions characterised by challenges with social skills, repetitive behaviours, speech and non-verbal communication, as well as by unique strengths and differences. It is bewildering to the uninitiated and a never-ending mysterious challenge to both afflicted and those trying to cope.
The book, therefore, is a tragedy, more so when a destitute African family is affected. It would be easy to write gush and garrulous heart-rending rhetoric; fortunately and thoughtfully, Miller avoids this and hits hard and accurately.
The central rural characters, teenager Ash and his 8-year-old brother Zuko – trapped in a cloud-world, unable to speak, but to see patterns and “hear the hum of the sun” – not only have to bury their sister and mother but must then somehow walk and walk to a hostile urban environment in a vague attempt to find remote family and to try to survive.
There is no humour to be found in this work. Rather like autism itself, it is a searing, accurate literary reality. Devastating to read, mind-blowing and tooth-gnashing as futility and unreasonableness subvert