Seeing the funny side of a fraught upbringing
Trevor Noah tells about bits of his life that he can’t tell on stage
ON a shelf in Trevor Noah’s office in Hell’s Kitchen, New York City — in between a poster for Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and a six-pack of Red Bull — is a growing collection of books by guests who have been interview subjects in the year and a half that Noah’s been hosting The Daily Show. The authors include Phil Collins, rock star politician Cory Booker and comedian Judah Friedlander. As of this week, Noah can add his own title to the shelf.
Born a Crime is a collection of stories from Noah’s life, which amounts to an autobiography of sorts. “I always wanted to write a book, I just didn’t want to write this book,” he says, fresh out of a daily meeting with The Daily Show writers. “I knew it would be a collection of stories, I just didn’t have any clue where it would take me. I didn’t want to write a memoir. That’s like saying ‘I’m done’, yet I don’t feel like I’ve even started.” He is 32. “But there are things I can’t tell people on stage, things that don’t work for a comedy routine.”
The book is an extension of his comedy, which comes frequently from his personal life and experiences as a South African born to a Swiss father and a Xhosa mother. Noah started writing the book in March last year, before The Daily Show, even before he was announced as the person who’d be taking over from Jon Stewart. He worked with an editor to bring his ideas and memories and the concept together.
Noah is frank and personal in telling the story of growing up during the tail-end of apartheid — never quite fitting in wherever he went, not being black or white enough for his geographical location, whether in Soweto or Eden Park, Alberton. A difficult childhood characterised by empty stomachs and racist laws that severely restricted the relationship his family had, there are moments of shame and sadness throughout the book. But they’re always delivered with a sliver of humour, courtesy of his mother, Patricia Nombuyiselo Noah. Her upbeat outlook on life, steadfast attitude and unwavering faith are constants in his story. Verbally sparring with her led Noah to realise the humour in a lot of what happened during his childhood.
He says he never intended the book to be so much about his mother. “It’s like a love letter to my mom. I think she’s amazing. But I didn’t want to write her a love letter — I was just trying to tell stories. But that’s what it turned into. The book formed from my life, rather than me trying to form the book.”
Through interviews over the years, he began to realise she was the source of his comedy. “When you get interviewed, you have to find the answers to the questions you’re asked and so you begin to look for the answers. ‘Why do we use comedy in my family?’ So it’s just constantly asking questions. That’s what got me to that place.”
Sitting down with his mom to ask questions about her life, Noah was surprised to learn how little he really knew about her. “We think we know [our loved ones] just because we’ve lived with them our whole lives.” He says she’s always been a humorous person. “I think part of it was from my grandfather. And black people are just funny in general, I find. Look at Jacob Zuma. The fact that he’s able to laugh through the craziest situations — like the state capture report. He’s always smiling. How?”
His mother hasn’t visited him in New York; Noah says she and his grandmother don’t travel. But he doesn’t think they need to. He may have traded the mopane worms he once had to eat to stave off starvation for a seat at any one of the city’s finest restaurants, but the way he sees it, his mother is familiar with his life.
“For my mom, coming to NYC to watch me do The Daily Show would be the same as driving to Randburg to see me do a show for M-Net at Urban Brew Studios. It’s the same thing. She would say: ‘I’ve seen this: the people came, he told the jokes, they put it on TV. I’ve seen this.’ She’s seen me drive BMWs and Mercedes before. It’s not like: ‘Oh, it’s gotten better.’ She’s seen it. I’m happy she got that experience seeing me like that there.”
In writing the book, Noah says he made peace with a lot of what has happened to him in life. “I only lived my life in the time that I was living it; I never thought it was tough or crazy when I was going through it. When you put it all together — geez!” He never grew up feeling sorry for himself. “Yeah, we were poor sometimes, but I don’t see myself as disadvantaged. I had a great life.” He says writing in particular about the part of his story that the public has come to know about through tabloid headlines — his mother being shot by his stepfather twice, once in the head — was powerful. “You have to grapple with the emotions, because words are so much slower than thoughts. You can’t escape them on a page. How you felt when your mom was getting shot; living in a home of abuse; realising so many people are living the same but in the shadows. And realising, in a disgusting way, how victims are the ones that hide inside the persecutors.”
Putting his thoughts down for everyone to read has been liberating, he says. “To put it out there, and say: ‘Judge me, take it or leave it.’ It’s like walking down the street naked. I’m sure at some point you start to enjoy it. I think that’s what it felt like for me.”
Recording the book for the audio version, he admits he became emotional at the end, particularly reading the last sentence of the last chapter. “Saying it out loud, and feeling it, I cried. But I cry at a happy ending too,” he chuckles.
His mom hasn’t seen the book yet. He was waiting for the hardcover copy to be published instead of sending her a digital manuscript. Why not post it to her, since he calls it a love letter? “I would, but I don’t trust the post office.” He smiles, those trademark dimples standing out.
Never quite fitting in wherever he went, not being black or white enough for his location