African Crime Fiction by AI and the “other" way

I was going to write about the history of African crime fiction in contrast to African-American crime fiction, but then I discovered that it was too much to put in one post (I dread readers’ eyes glazing over with too much material). So, it might end up as two or three parts. I’ll start with African crime fiction, which Michael Sears and I have often spoken about.

Then, another thought struck me: could I come up with a satisfactory post using Artificial Intelligence (AI) and thereby save some time? (Admit it, it does take time to do a good post). Anyway, here’s what I found.

History of African crime fiction by AI

Chat.openAI generated several versions of this topic (you can generate any number you wish). One of the better ones follows:

"African crime fiction has a rich history that spans several decades. The genre emerged as a form of social and political commentary on the continent's unique struggles with colonialism, post-colonialism, and ongoing conflicts. Below is a brief overview of the history of African crime fiction:

1. Pre-colonial era: Prior to European colonization, African storytelling traditions included tales of crime and punishment. These stories were often used to teach moral lessons and reinforce community values.

2. Colonial era: During the period of European colonization, crime fiction began to emerge as a genre in African literature. One of the earliest examples is "The Palm-Wine Drinkard" by Nigerian writer Amos Tutuola, published in 1952. This book combines elements of traditional African folklore with modernist writing techniques and explores themes of crime and punishment.

3. Post-colonial era: In the decades following independence, crime fiction continued to grow in popularity in Africa. One of the most influential African crime fiction writers of this period was South African author James McClure, whose "Kramer and Zondi" series explored the complexities of apartheid-era South Africa.

4. Contemporary era: Today, African crime fiction continues to thrive, with writers from across the continent producing gripping, socially relevant works. Some notable contemporary African crime fiction writers include Nigeria's Nnedi Okorafor, whose "Who Fears Death" explores issues of gender and violence in post-apocalyptic Africa, and South Africa's Deon Meyer, whose "Thirteen Hours" is a fast-paced thriller set in Cape Town.

In addition to exploring issues of crime and justice, African crime fiction has also served as a means of showcasing the continent's diverse cultures, languages, and perspectives, and has contributed to the ongoing global conversation about the nature of crime, punishment, and justice.”

I wholeheartedly agree with that last paragraph. Well said! However, the AI-generated content has significant misstatements. Correct: Deon Meyer is indeed a South African crime/thriller writer with a longstanding body of work, but I would hesitate to call THE PALM-WINE DRINKARD a work of crime fiction. Although I won’t discuss that book in detail, reviewers perceive it arguably as science-fiction, realism, fantasy, or some combination. Likewise, Nnedi Okorafor’s works are (correct me if I’m wrong) probably more science-fiction and magical realism than crime fiction as we like to think of it. So, I’m not terribly impressed with the AI rendition.

History of African crime fiction by conventional search engine

I was a little surprised that I didn’t find an article or blog titled “History of African Crime Fiction” as such, although our own Michael Sears notes in a blog:

Africa has a long tradition of excellent crime fiction both from international writers who set their books here (for example, Agatha Christie’s 1937 Death on the Nile and Elspeth Huxley’s three Kenya murder mysteries also written in the 1930s) and from African writers, such as South African James McClure, who surgically deconstructed apartheid-era policing in South Africa with his Kramer and Zondi mysteries, winning the CWA Gold Dagger Award for his debut novel, Steam Pig.

Like the AI-generated account, Michael gives James McClure his due.

A poster for DEATH ON THE NILE in Thailand
(Shutterstock)

The development of the African crime novel

One of the most comprehensive and academic examinations of African crime fiction is from my friend Dr. Karen Ferreira-Myers in her article,* AFRICAN CRIME FICTION: THE WORLD AS IT IS OR THE WORLD AS WE WOULD LIKE IT TO BE? Karen is at the University of Swaziland where she is the Modern Languages and Linguistics Coordinator for the Institute of Distance Learning. Karen makes it clear that African crime fiction is a relatively new phenomenon and points out that although the crime fiction is growing in importance in Africa, it has for a long time been poorly received. This has been a concern for me as well, but it’s clear from my Ghanaian Instagram followers and requests for my novels in Ghana that the situation is improving.

Some of the African attitude to the African crime novel may have been inherited from the colonial powers, e.g. France and the Francophone African countries don’t regard crime fiction as “true literature,” whatever that means. Karen notes that in the 1980s and 90s that several Senegalese authors including Modibo Keita and Assé Gueye and Cameroonians such as Jean-Pierre Dikolo produced crime novels. In Agence Black Bafoussa by Congolese Achille F Nagoye, the murder victim is an African living in France. Other crime novels came out of Angola, e.g. José Eduardo Agualusa and Pepetela.

African crime novels provide entertainment, but the African flavor might intrigue or baffle the Western reader. Karen relates some of the observations of Nagoye and Abasse Ndione that distinguish the African crime novels.

• Omens
• Human sacrifices during witchcraft rituals
• Occultism, witchdoctors, and healers
• “The strong presence of the irrational in a genre that sings the praises of reason upsets the system of the crime novel (Braceleret, 2007)

One can add to this list the bungling and corrupt performance of African governments and police services, something I do relentlessly in my novels and will probably never cease to do. But it’s not a monolith, because for example, as Michael and Stanley’s novels show, the Botswana authorities are a lot more modernized and efficient than those of Ghana, which just can’t seem to get their s**t together. Mind you, it’s great material for stories!

African crime fiction: the dream and reality

South African crime novels like those of Deon Meyer or Jassy Mackenzie write tough with the harsh, unforgiving reality of murder and other violence. There are no dreams here. In a softer, sweeter version of crime fiction, Alexander McCall Smith gives the reader a look at African society that is far more sanguine,  maybe even genteel, as Mma Ramotswe solves the cases that come to the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency.

Back to AI

It’s clear from the above that AI has a long way to go. Besides technical details and facts that it can get wrong, it lacks nuance and the ability to go in-depth with a topic. This may change, of course, but for now, we still have to crawl through the literature available on the internet the old-fashioned way. There is no quick fix. Yet. 

*Karen Ferreira-Meyers, « Le polar africain », Afrique contemporaine 2012/1 (No

241), p. 55-72.DOI 10.3917/afco.241.0055

                                                            ~~~

When cultures clash

 

Michael and Stanley - Thursday

We all know that one of the most important issues to grab the reader's interest is tension. When cultures clash, it generates a fracture point where tensions rise and angry people may commit violent acts. This isn’t always colonists versus indigenous people; it can also be tribal or religious conflict. Some fine crime fiction focuses on these situations to provide an intriguing and believable backdrop for an entertaining murder mystery. To illustrate what we mean, here are a few examples we've enjoyed where culture clash is a central theme. Each of the books mentioned takes on culture clash in a different context and comes up with a different type of story. Each could only work in its particular setting, both in terms of character and plot.

In Abir Mukherjee’s series of historical mysteries set in the British Raj, the clash is between the British rulers and the local Indian population. Ex-Scotland Yard detective Captain Wyndham teams up with Sergeant Banerjee, a local whose relationship with the British rulers makes him unpopular with some of his own people. The combination of the two of them allows us to see the crimes they investigate from different, and sometimes opposing, perspectives. In the first of the series, A Rising Man, a senior British official is murdered. The British assume that the murder has been carried out by some branch of the independence movement, but the detectives need to look at the crime much more deeply to make progress. The complex trail leads them through the fractious relationship between the British and their Indian subjects to a surprising conclusion. Along the way Mukherjee recreates the Calcutta of the 1920s with all its nuances. The book won the prestigious Crime Writers Association Gold Dagger for best mystery of the year.

James McClure wrote during the apartheid era, and his books were banned in South Africa for some time. In fact, he relocated to the UK. His novels are set in apartheid South Africa, and here the clash is pretty obvious—the powerful minority White Afrikaner rulers of the country versus the local Black peoples. McClure illustrates the conflict through all his books, subtly taking on the premises of apartheid through his two policemen—the White Lieutenant Kramer and the Black Detective Sergeant Zondi – a similar stratagem to the one Mukherjee uses. The detectives’ backgrounds are very different, but they make a good team. McClure cocks a snoot at the racism of the era by making Zondi, lower-ranked because of his color, the smarter of the two.

In The Steam Pig, a beautiful music teacher is murdered with a bicycle spoke through the heart. It’s the collaborative work of Kramer and Zondi that eventually breaks the case and illustrates directly why the apartheid system was at such cost to all sides.

The Steam Pig was another CWA Gold Dagger winner.

Madagascar has a mix of peoples who originated from places as diverse as mainland Africa and Indonesia. It was taken over by the French at the start of the twentieth century and became a veritable boiling pot of diverse cultures and races. After the French left, a republic was declared in 1960 that has creaked under the pressures of a variety of corrupt regimes ever since.

Stephen Holgate worked in the US Foreign Service, and his time in Madagascar as a diplomat not only informed him about the island, but also saw him develop an understanding of the peoples, and that comes through powerfully in his novel. Holgate uses the outsider point of view to observe the cultural conflicts. His protagonist, Robert Knott, is a diplomat at the US embassy. He's spent his career abroad, and has finally washed up in Madagascar. 

The local culture and its belief in the ghosts of ancestors is central to the story. Knott understands this, but, of course, doesn’t believe in it. As he says himself: he prefers to keep the island at a distance. It doesn’t work out that way. 

A great example comes from our own Annamaria Alfieri. South America, too, has historical conflict between the locals and the invaders from Spain and Portugal. (Everyone knows the movie The Mission.) City of Silver was her acclaimed debut. It's recently been translated into Spanish.

The silver mines made Potosi in seventeenth century Peru the richest city in the new world. The wealthy and powerful mayor’s daughter dies at a convent there and is believed to have committed suicide. However, the abbess thinks otherwise and sets out to discover the truth.

The Spaniards, the Inquisition, and the local people produce a three way culture clash for an intriguing mystery in a fascinating historical setting.   

Culture clash is not always White versus Black. Our own crime fiction sometimes uses the clash between the Bushman cultures of the Kalahari and that of the Tswana people of Botswana. It's a major theme in the latest book, A Deadly Covenant. A massacre of a Bushman group by a Tswana gang is the flash point. Although many years have elapsed, the tensions and fears generated by the event lead to apparently inexplicable killings in the present. Kubu has his work cut out for him.

These are just a few examples of a broad spectrum of first-rate crime fiction based on the clash of cultures. We haven't touched on North America - Tony Hillerman’s Native American novels are well known, and the modern-day black-white culture clash in the US is powerfully illustrated in SA Cosby’s work.  Europe, too, has plenty of examples. John Banville’s crime fiction set in Ireland has religious as well as political tensions in the background, and what about all the refugee culture (and other) issues?

It's all grist to the mystery writer's mill. Friction, tension, anger. Maybe even murder...

South African Crime Fiction in the Wide World

Michael - Thursday

We've had a couple of very interesting pieces around mystery fiction writing this week, and it made me want to weigh in on the South African crime fiction front.  When I thought about it, I realized that a piece Stanley and I had written as an afterword to a collection of South African mystery short stories summed it up pretty well - or at least as well as I was going to do from scratch. Furthermore, the collection was never distributed outside South Africa so most people probably haven't seen the piece before. So I thought I would update it and present it here.

Alexander McCall Smith at home

Over the last fifteen years there has been an explosion of authors writing contemporary crime fiction in South Africa.  How have readers elsewhere in the world reacted to this new and rich perspective on the country?  We have great writers and a few have made the breakthrough into the international arena.  No easy feat with book markets shaky everywhere.  Our previous US editor, bemoaning less than stellar sales, told us that Americans aren’t interested in Africa or South America.  But can that be true?  Look at the remarkably popular No1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series.  Surely it is the strong sense of place and culture, as well as the good feelings generated by a simpler and more predictable world, that has made Mma Ramotswe an international favorite.  Alexander McCall Smith was born in Zambia, spent several years in Botswana, and his first book was published in South Africa.  So he is an African author writing about Africa, even though now he lives in Scotland.

 The UK has deep historical ties with Africa in many ways, and one of them is crime fiction.  Among the earliest mysteries set in Africa were those of Elspeth Huxley’s Kenya series.  The first serious attempt to focus on South Africa using crime fiction was James McClure’s Kramer and Zondi series written from England during the apartheid years.  (The books have recently been reissued by Soho Crime.)

James McClure

Although McClure was born in Johannesburg, he wrote his books some time after he’d emigrated to England.  Why did he choose the crime novel as a vehicle to display the situation in South Africa?  McClure had this to say about it in a 1988 interview: “I wanted to write about South Africa in a context which would allow South Africa to become incidental to the story.  Which doesn’t mean it isn’t very much part of the story.  Unlike some other writers about South Africa, I try to make sure that the action is peculiar to that environment and arises out of it.” 

The Song Dog

His series of novels is set in a fictitious town called Trekkersburg and revolves around the exploits of Lieutenant Tromp Kramer and his assistant, Bantu Detective Sergeant Mickey Zondi.  The relationship between the two men, and their interactions in the conservative Afrikaans town, do as much to illustrate and denigrate apartheid as the works of many, much bigger name South African writers.  With the crime novel being such a natural way of exposing society and its issues, why were local writers ignoring the genre at the time?  Perhaps they had more serious things to say?  McClure was quite dismissive of that, saying: “That way, you preach to nobody but the converted, usually – or to the so-called intellectual reader.  You’re not reaching the ordinary guy at all.”  In fact, he didn’t enjoy their work (except for Charles Herman Bosman), questioning – among other issues – their lack of humor.  “It’s all as deadly serious as a political meeting.  I always hear laughter as well as sobbing when I recall life in Africa.”

But McClure only recalled life here.  From within South Africa, Wessel Ebersohn wrote three grueling psychological thrillers exposing the reality of the security police and exploring the nature of evil.  They were initially banned.  Chris Marnewick did so too in his award winning novel Shepherds and Butchers, originally written in Afrikaans.  And the exposé of that grim era through crime fiction continues today with Malla Nunn’s historical crime novels written from Australia. 

Deon Meyer at home

It was Deon Meyer who took up McClure’s cudgel, using crime fiction set in the post-apartheid era, albeit steeped in its aftermath, to illustrate present day South Africa.  He writes in Afrikaans, and ten years ago in an interview he lamented the isolation of writing in a neglected genre and a parochial language.  But he persevered, and now he has won a slew of prizes, and his novels have been translated into twenty languages.  Over that ten year period there has been an explosion of crime fiction written and set in South Africa, much of it very good.  Deon was joined by Andrew Brown, Wessel Ebersohn (who re-emerged after a long silence), Joanne Hichens, Richard Kunzman, Sarah Lotz, Jassy Mackenzie, Sifiso Mzobe, Mike Nicol, Margie Orford, Roger Smith and several others.  Local readers and critics have been enthusiastic.

Every writer wants recognition and acceptance from his or her home market; usually it’s the readers in that market who can vouch for the reality of the sense of place, the natural behavior of the characters, the believability of the plot.  (Sometimes an external perspective can be interesting and even successful.  French writer Caryl Férey’s Zulu, set in South Africa, won numerous prizes, but wasn’t that highly regarded here.)  But how is the new wave of crime writing in South Africa to move to the international arena?  Do we even want that to happen?  South Africa has a wonderful flair for mixing languages and concepts that is hard to translate.  But the market here is small.  Writers want to be read and paid enough to make it a profession rather than a hobby.

Deon's latest book
 - one of his best for my money 

Deon Meyer is now well-known in the US, and his primary publisher is in the UK.  Roger Smith and Jassy Mackenzie are also building momentum in the US.  They attend mystery book conventions, do book tours and signings, and have been shortlisted for, and won, international awards.  There can be no question that their novels are being well received.  But some of our writers have to rely on the ebook market, as publishers hesitate to take on unknown authors.  The problem is getting known and there is no avoiding author marketing in the forms of meeting readers and doing signings, participating in internet chat groups and blogs, and linking with authors already better known overseas.  The US market is flooded with novels, and there is no doubt that South Africa is struggling to make its voice heard over the volume of excellent European and British writers.  Nevertheless, there is fashion in crime novels just as there is in everything else, and there is some feeling that African crime fiction may be the next fashion.  On our book tours around the US, we have found independent mystery bookstore owners interested in South African crime fiction and keen to find out about other writers and how to obtain their books. Europe is a different story, but Deon Meyer, Roger Smith, and Mike Nicol have their books in the top league in Germany.  

When asked in an interview what makes his books transferable over continents and cultures, Deon Meyer replied, “I think stories are an international language.  Characters too.”  That’s certainly true, but there may be more to it.  Some readers are looking for an understanding of other countries and other cultures.  Sick of the sound bites on television, they turn to fiction that might reflect reality in a more balanced way.  Others are armchair travelers seeking a strong sense of place.  Perhaps the most important group is looking for a style different from that of its own writers.  Think about the wildly successful Scandinavians – Mankell, Nesbo and, of course, Larson.  The cold seeps into your bones, the darkness seeps into your heart.

Watch this space...

A counterbalance to Nordic Noir is Sunshine Noir where the unrelenting heat and glaring light challenge the the cold and snow. Most southern African crime fiction fits into that space.

Maybe ignorance IS bliss!

I grew up in apartheid South Africa, where virtually all the normal rights accorded to citizens everywhere else were denied to those who were not White.  If one was not White, myriad laws controlled every facet of life.

Not surprisingly, the apartheid government also wanted (and needed) to control the Whites too, to ensure they didn’t get any wayward ideas that segregation may not be the most desirable way to run a country.  To this end, for example, South Africa didn’t get TV until 1976 – and even then what was shown was severely controlled. 

Of course, since the apartheid government comprised mainly conservative Christians, it also had a very active censorship board.  In our genre, wonderful mysteries by James McClure and Wessel Ebersohn were banned because they challenged the premise of segregation.  It was rumoured that Anna Sewell’s famous book Black Beauty was initially taken off the bookshelves until someone discovered that it was about a horse!  And if one wanted to read publications such as Playboy or participate in such soul-endangering activities as gambling, one had to travel to neighbouring Swaziland.

Although many of us were constantly aware of censorship, it was my first visit to The Netherlands in 1972 that really opened my eyes as to what a free press really meant.  At that time Oh Calcutta was being staged in Amsterdam, and conservative groups were objecting to the on-stage nudity, particularly the male nudity.  One evening I was watching the evening news, when the announcer reported on the protests.  “And this is what they are objecting to,” he continued.  The viewers were then shown 10 or 20 seconds of said nudity.

I remember being blown away by this trivial occurrence.  This is how the news should be, I thought.  It is the role of the news to show what is happening so people can make up there own minds.

Equally vivid is my memory of my first exposure to TV news in the United States later that year.  I was shocked by the severe self-censorship – nothing was said or shown that would offend anyone – particularly sponsors.  The disconnect between the USA being the home of the free, and the lack of spine of all news agencies was incredibly distressing.  Even stodgy Britain did a better job.

My last blog, Je suis Charlie, here at Murder is Everywhere honoured those who died in the despicable events in Paris and endorsed what I regard as one of the most important attributes of a democracy, namely free speech.  And millions of others did the same, which is laudable. 

However, I continue to be really depressed by the hypocrisy I see prevalent throughout the West, often at universities, which should know better.  Invited speakers are uninvited because students and staff disagree with their political or religious beliefs (for example Condoleezza Rice and Christine Lagard).  Political correctness prevails, and disturbing the status quo is regarded as a negative rather than a strength.  Television programs are pulled because sponsors threaten.  Open debate is shunned.  Instead, pushing one’s own agenda takes precedence over trying to find common ground.  And making money pushes aside the basic tenets of a free society.

I am depressed by the actions of governments, organisations, and private citizens around the world to ban books.  The list is frightening (see here), and the list continues to grow.  I am even more depressed that citizenry allows banning to happen.

Why are so many people afraid of saying what they think?  Why are so many people unwilling to listen to ideas they disagree with?

Je ne sais pas!

Maybe the ostrich isn’t as dumb as we think it is.  

Maybe ignorance IS bliss!

Stan - Thursday

Apartheid and James McClure

James McClure

In retrospect it seems strange that the wave of good crime fiction that we have in South Africa now almost all developed after the apartheid era.  It seems a natural genre to use to display the rigid behaviors and eventual breakdown of an artificial system, a context that would display the excesses as well as the successes of the police.  It was also an era when some great writing talent was focused on the country – Alan Paton, Nadine Gordimer, JM Coetzee.  Writers at that level choose their own subject matter, of course, and may have felt the crime genre too superficial for the sort of issues they wanted to address.  Certainly many of their books revolve around violence but not in the context of a mystery.  

South African writer Wessel Ebersohn wrote three thrillers at the time, exposing the security police and exploring the nature of evil.  His books were initially banned in South Africa.  He moved “up” to a fictional study of Adolf Hitler (although he’s returned his focus to South Africa in recent years).  Only one writer took a serious look at the nature of apartheid through crime fiction and that was a writer living outside South Africa.

James McClure was born in Johannesburg in 1939.  He became a teacher and then a journalist in Natal until in 1965 he immigrated with his family to England.   In 1971 he published his first novel set in South Africa – THE STEAM PIG – in which he introduced his detective duo, the white Afrikaans Lieutenant Tromp Kramer and the black Bantu Detective Sergeant Mickey Zondi.  He set them up in a conservative fictional town, Trekkersburg, and let the South African context generate the stories.  The relationship between the two detectives and the artificial structures in which they live and which they largely accept, provide a clear illustration of the apartheid set up of the time and of the way it twisted the lives of ordinary people.  If you are interested in South African crime fiction (as we hope you are!) then these are excellent books to read.  Even now as historical fiction, they are very revealing and very good.  The whole series was recently reissued by Soho Crime.

I’m interested in what McClure thought about his own writing and what he was trying to achieve with it.  His books were never banned in South Africa as ‘subversive’ – as many were – and he was accused of being an apologist for apartheid for not explicitly condemning it in his books.  Then, again, is that what being a novelist is about?  So I was pleased to discover that in 1988 he was interviewed by Don Wall, Professor of English at Eastern Washington University.  It was published in a book titled “Mysteries of Africa” edited by Eugene Schleh.

When asked why he had chosen the mystery genre, this was McClure’s reply: “Because crime is something I knew quite a lot about, and because I wanted to write about South Africa in a context which would allow South Africa to become incidental to the story.  Which doesn’t mean it isn’t very much part of the story.  Unlike some other writers about South Africa, I try to make sure that the action is peculiar to that environment and arises out of it.”  He went on to compare the audience he was trying to reach to that of the Big Name authors: “I chose this genre also because it allowed me to reach a much greater audience than it would if I wrote about South Africa in a straight novel.  That way, you preach to nobody but the converted, usually – or to the so-called intellectual reader.  You’re not reaching the ordinary guy at all.”

In fact, he didn’t enjoy the Big Names’ work that much (except for Herman Charles Bosman – see my post about him  here.) questioning – among other issues – their lack of humor.  “It’s all as deadly serious as a political meeting.  I always hear laughter as well as sobbing when I recall life in Africa.”

On the issue of apartheid he was quite outspoken, pointing out that a novel is about people not about systems.  Speaking of black security policemen, he said: “But I know they’re not all monsters – far from it.  What fascinates me is the man who isn’t a monster who works as a monster.  I find that much more interesting than monsters.  There’s no insight into these people – a form of literary apartheid.”  He continued that he couldn’t stand stereotyping and found it repulsive whether in a novel or “as the outright fascism and racialism of the more rabid Nationalist Party member.” 

Don Wall summed up McClure’s views as follows (and McClure agreed with him): “You’re not an apologist for (apartheid) and you certainly don’t defend it, it’s an abhorrent policy to you, but, on the other hand, you understand the people who live under that system, and you see that good men can live under a bad policy and do good things, too.”

A moral as true today as it was twenty-five years ago.

Michael - Thursday.