An exploration of complex relationships

THE DREAM HOUSE

Reviw: Lia Labuschagne THE cover of The Dream House features lavish praise by big literary names such as Nadine Gordimer and André Brink. I therefore started reading it with some caution, for what if I hated what they rated so highly?

Within a few pages I knew that Higginson’s novel, based on his play Dream of the Dog, was unusual, and by the time I got to the end I felt that special kind of separation sadness that follows finishing a memorable book.

It tells of the elderly and wheelchair-bound Patricia Wiley who is about finally to take leave of their family farm in the Kwazulu-Natal Midlands. The property is being turned into a residential estate and developers have started on construction of some of the new houses, all of which are all modern reproductions of the old homestead. Patricia’s husband Richard’s demented mind is shielding him from some of the terrible things he did in the past: he has become a pathetic, sick shell, even though he has moments of lucidity and retains some of his former illusions. Beauty and Bheki, two long-standing and long- suffering members of the household, are also preparing to leave the farm, and all but one of the childless couple’s old dogs have been shot by Bheki on Patricia’s request.

While she sorts through boxes, Patricia considers some of her past decisions, mistakes and relationships. She thinks of her unhappy marriage and of school headmaster John Ford, with whom she had a long-standing affair. But mostly, she is disturbed by memories relating to Looksmart, who had been almost like a surrogate son since his birth, and for whom she had ensured a good education.

It is at this moment that a resentful Looksmart returns after 20 years of absence – and indeed, he is “a different man” from the one he was when he left, and looks the part in a well-tailored suit. He has come back in an expensive car to confront the old couple with “the consequences of people’s actions”. His complex relationship with Patricia forms the backbone of the novel.

Looksmart may or may not be the new South Africa. The Wileys may or may not be the old. Higginson tells a deceptively simple story in which secrets and half-secrets, hurt and resentment slowly rise to the surface. His technique of telling it through the viewpoints of all the main characters offers glimpses into their affection, love, anger, frustration and illusions, and underlines a shared humanity and frailty.

As a literary device, the occasional use of isiZulu phrases and sentences underlines the fact that few older white South Africans are fluent in an indigenous language, and are therefore unaware of some of the “real” conversations around them: it serves the purpose of underlining cultural divides that we have not yet bridged.

The Dream House is fiction and does not attempt to be inclusive in portraying the realities of a South Africa in which reconciling the realities of the racial divide still has some way to go. Yet, through a well-sketched group of multiracial characters, the author accentuates some of the issues without suggesting answers. Mostly it works as an exploration of complex relationships and the concept of family in a society where complexity is a given.