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multi-dimensional view of reality is characteristic of a time in which cultural products are increasingly becoming hybrids, “tying together influences from many traditions, as existing not so much in a specific place and time as between different places at once” (Smith 2004:245). It is the exile’s position between cultures, and between ‘worlds’, that allows for exciting new possibilities in a process of cross-cultural creation.
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becomes, temporarily, a victim of despair. He is shown lying in the foetal position – defeated by his surroundings –
quiet petrifact, clean as the conscience of a firearm without the merest whiff of gunpowder-smoke in the barrel, clean as a tooth from which the last fibre of meat has long been sucked, silent as an upper lip with neither inkling nor education...silent and clean as a human in prison and that prison the concretising of inner life. (1989:248)
The abandonment to despair leads to a carceral experience that constricts the movements of one’s
‘inner life’. As a result, exiles become feeble victims of their circumstances. And in the end, they lead lives that resemble death, for as Anom realises, “[i]t is quite possible to die while nominally still alive” (1989:257). He describes his resolution to snap out of defeat, to return to movement:
“*w+ithout any coordination, except as mechanical programmatic action and reaction. Without any central control...” (1989:257) he starts to live again. He rises above the despair, and moves beyond it, as he works on his memoir, “‘On The Noble Art of Walking in No Man’s Land’” (222). This allows him to lay to rest his past, and his self, and proceed to a new realm of consciousness that represents the future.
In the situation mentioned above, the prison functions as an external expression of the internal condition of the exile. Yet, paradoxically, it is in this most unlikely space that creative activity occurs.
It is here that the realisation dawns on Anom that although “*i+t is not possible to walk away from prison” (258) – or from the perpetual, inescapable state of exile – an alternative is at hand. Through (enforced) states of stillness, new mental landscapes can be explored. The aim is to achieve an
“immobile mobility” (1989:286) which will release one from the ‘prison of exile’, allowing one to build an alternative landscape in the mind. This re-conceptualisation of home allows one – in Breytenbach’s words – to “*possess] every possible landscape. There I know that I own nothing, that the mind can be a mirror to nothingness, that the land itself is a heart of coming and going to be bequeathed to a beloved” (1996:161). Like the colonial writers who – Boehmer holds – used to turn
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to “their uneasy marginality or supplementarity” as a “position for self-reconstruction” (1995:117), so migrant writers – including Breytenbach – continue to do the same in today’s world.
Migrant writers draw inspiration from their liminal existence so as creatively to re-imagine the world. Thus, the state of perpetual dislocation that is inhabited by the exile becomes a new kind of home. Meheret observes that “*w+ith us foreigners it would appear that, as you move into dimmer regions, your exile becomes purified, more of a conscious state” (1989:175). It is through this purification process that a home is created in a mental landscape, enabling the exile to transcend the physical, and the psychological, dislocation of the material world. Breytenbach’s novel allows us to gain valuable insight into this experience. The novel proposes that it is the exile’s ability to adapt (create new spiritual landscapes) which represents the key to survival. According to Breytenbach, the journey of the exile can be described as follows:
Then comes exile, the break, the destitution, the initiation. The maiming which – I think – gives deeper sight, provides a path into consciousness through the mimicry of thinking yourself as part of the environment. Now you can never entirely relax the belly muscles. You learn, if you’re lucky, the chameleon art of adaptation, and how to modulate your laughter. You learn how to use your lips properly. Henceforth you are at home nowhere, and by that token everywhere. (1996:42)
Breytenbach suggests that you create your own homeland by developing the faculty to enter into another reality. Ultimately, it is a mentally constructed reality, independent of the material surroundings which the exile inhabits. It is here that the exile can cultivate a new understanding of what it means to be at home in an environment that can provide a sense of stability and belonging amid the instability, movement, and dislocation that characterises the exilic condition.
In conclusion, the novel shows that exiles, aware of multiple realities, cannot locate a sense of belonging anywhere. Even the language is lost, and the difficulty of adapting to a life that is restricted to a peripheral reality is a challenging task. To continue experiencing inner growth, it is vital that exiles do not give in to the pain and dislocation that permeate their lives. Instead of
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becoming victims of the fraught nature of a liminal existence, exiles can be liberated by this very experience and embrace a life that thrives on being perpetually in motion. Although not a desirable state of being, the experience of exile can generate creative activity from which new perceptions of reality can emerge. Living an exilic existence – an experience that can be likened to being in prison – exiles seek an alternative reality in which the mind is free to venture into other realms of consciousness: psychological, artistic, and metaphysical. In spite of the hardships involved, the experience of exile can facilitate the creation of an alternative home in which, momentarily, a sense of unity can be achieved.
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