Hum If You Don't Know the Words

“They spend their three-week vacation time lying on the beaches, swimming in the warm Indian Ocean and fishing for free food when they could afford to buy it in shops. Why they lie for hours in the sun trying to get brown when they find our own skin color so displeasing, I do not know.”

Beauty notes the irony of how the white colonists in South Africa fish for fun rather than sustenance, getting rich in other ways and then spending their money on vacations. An even keener irony is apparent in her sardonic comment about their fondness for tanning in the sun when they systematically discriminate in all areas of life against those whose skin is naturally dark.

“Mothers weave through the traffic, babies tied to their backs with towels or blankets. Schoolchildren mingle with women in maids’ uniforms. Men in overalls stop to talk to those in three-piece suits. Fires burn in braziers with mielies roasting atop them, and peddlers call out their wares for sale.”

Beauty describes the scene in Soweto using imagery and parallel structure. She describes the city this way to emphasize the movement and life there. This normalcy and flow of life contrasts what she soon witnesses at the peaceful student demonstration as the police arrive, which decidedly departs from normalcy and ends inexplicably in the flow of children’s blood.

“I start to sing along. The resistance song is, after all, as much in my blood as it is in any of these youths’; even more so, as I have been singing ‘Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika’ since long before any of these children were born.”

Beauty alludes to the song that represents the Pan African movement. This song has become the national anthem for several African nations, including post-apartheid South Africa. This quote shows the legacy of the movement and its connection to other countries fighting against colonial powers through means such as imposing sanctions.

“[W]hat is a parent more essentially than a child’s God? I would not lose faith in my Gods. And so, I waited for them to come get me.”

When Robin loses her parents, she refuses to believe it. She believed everything they said, mimicked what they did, and trusted them to keep their family safe. This metaphor shows the extent of their influence over her. Until she’s forced to see the truth, she has faith in their survival as one would have faith in a God who cannot die.

“I despair that we are all becoming murderers, white and black alike, and that we will never be able to wipe this blood from our hands. I pray that I am wrong.”

Beauty fears that if the resistance continues to be violent, everyone will metaphorically have blood on their hands that they can’t wash off. She advocates peaceful resistance and effecting change through political means rather than mimicking the violent behavior of the white colonists, who have pushed Black people off the best land, often deny them basic rights (such as the right to vote and a living wage), and control all the essential resources. The image of blood alludes to how the blood of all people looks the same.

“It is a wonderful thought that the Messiah could have been black, but that is just a fairy tale. If Jesus were black, surely we, the children of Africa, would not be suffering as much as we are.”

The symbol of the Black Messiah brings Beauty no hope. Rather than giving her faith, the image represents a dream so far from reality that it only brings her despair. She prefers keeping a pragmatic outlook to harboring hope based on idealistic religious images that can have no real effect.

“I’d had no control over what I was wearing since Edith had decided to use me as a weapon in her ‘war on repression,’ and I knew my father would’ve hated my ridiculously girly outfit. It was only through Cat that I was able to exert some force of my own will, and so I dressed her in jeans, takkies, and a red-and-white rugby jersey because Transvaal was my father’s favorite Curry Cup team.”

Robin acknowledges the way Edith uses her to fight her own battles and, in an effort to exert her own control, dresses Cat the way she would want to be dressed. Robin feels powerless in the real world, so she uses her imaginary world to honor her dad and assert her agency in one of the few areas that she feels she can.

“Did the magnetic field of his death draw her to Johannesburg so she could avenge his death?”

Beauty tries to make sense of her life, wondering if her husband’s death triggered Nomsa’s desire to leave and join the resistance. In this rhetorical question, she acknowledges that oppression connects her daughter and husband and that her family’s fate was set on course long ago.

“‘I’m Robin,’ I said, and then pointed next to me. ‘And this is Cat.’ King George giggled and nodded. ‘This dagga is strong, hey. Makes King George see all sorts of kak too. This is a kangaroo,’ he said, pointing off to his side.”

This passage exemplifies how the novel uses humor to emphasize the contrast between an adult and a child’s mindsets. Robin’s imaginary twin helps her emotionally process experiences, while King George says he can see a kangaroo because he’s so high. Their moment of connection and playfulness later helps inspire King George to help Robin.

“Do you mean like wanting to eat lots of candy floss at the funfair but not wanting to vomit from it afterwards?”

Robin responds after Edith tries to explain that she wants Robin but never envisioned having the responsibility of having a child. Trying to understand a complicated, adult topic, Robin draws a comparison to a similar, more childish feeling. She uses a simile to help her understand Edith’s perspective.

“Besides, no matter how much I studied the bathroom and the cups and plates, I couldn’t see anything different about them after Beauty had used them. It seemed they were in no way tarnished or tainted by her touch.”

Robin tries to find physical evidence that Black people are somehow dirty, as her parents’ behavior often implied. After investigating this herself and finding no evidence, Robin concludes that no difference exists between her and Beauty.

“She fights against me and, in her warrior spirit, is my daughter. Robin is so much like my Nomsa that it takes my breath away. I wonder how I did not see it before.”

Beauty has just decided to stay with Robin until she gets medical attention instead of pursuing a lead on Nomsa. As Robin is treated for scarlet fever, Beauty realizes how similar the girl is to her daughter. This realization helps Beauty understand why she and Robin came into each other’s lives.

“Are my parents buried alive? No. Do black people kill white people? Yes. Do white people kill black people? Yes. Will I go home to get my bike? No.”

This repetitive question and answer format demonstrates the level of honesty that Beauty is willing to give Robin. Additionally, it demonstrates Robin’s mindset and the things that haunt her: the possibility that her parents are buried alive, the violence between races, and the false promise Edith made to go back for her bike. In asking these questions, Robin is growing up, and Beauty’s bluntly honest responses help her do so.

“I clutched the brick in one hand and Johan’s hand in the other.”

At Victor’s Christmas party, Robin sits with two truths at once. She holds the hand of Victor’s friend Johan, who was kind to her and showed only love. In the other hand, she holds the brick that hurt him for no reason other than his identity. Both sentiments exist in their country, and she must face them at the same time.

“Only after I had learned those boundaries and generalities of my grief was I able to venture further into the mountains and valleys, the peaks and troughs of my despair. And as I traversed them—breathing a sigh of relief thinking that I’d conquered the worst of it—only then would I finally arrive at the truth about loss, the part that no one ever warns you about: that grief is a city all of its own, built high on a hill and surrounded by stone walls. It is a fortress that you will inhabit for the rest of your life, walking its dead-end roads forever. The trick is to stop trying to escape and, instead, to make yourself at home.”

Beauty draws an extended metaphor, comparing grief to a map that she has slowly explored since she lost her son and her husband. The metaphor explains how grief is all-consuming and how Beauty knows, after all this time, that there is no use in running away from it because one can’t escape but only embrace the process and find comfort within it.

“Good people come in many different colors and speak many different languages, bad people too. And sometimes good people do bad things, and sometimes bad things are the only things people know how to do because they do not know any better. One day you will see that for yourself.”

Trying to speak as simply as possible, Beauty tells Robin the truth: that there’s no easy way to tell good people from bad people. By using the uncomplicated words “good” and “bad,” Beauty both simplifies the lesson and complicates things because no simple truth exists about good and bad.

“‘Just admit it. Your surveillance didn’t turn up anything useful at all. Ergo, you’re not a real detective.’ ‘“Ergo”? You can’t just make words up.’ ‘It’s a real word.’ ‘No, it’s not. It’s “ogre” spelled backwards. Stop reading that stupid Lord of the Rings book. It’s making you see those ugly ogre things everywhere.’”

This dialogue between Morrie and Robin characterizes the banter that anchors their friendship. Since adults are the primary figures in both children’s lives, they constantly use words neither really knows. They tease each other in a childlike way as they learn and grow.

“I’d run and run and run. But you couldn’t outrun your fears because that was the thing about fear: it was a shadow you could never shake, and it was fit and it was fast and it would always, always be there just a split second behind you.”

Robin realizes her mistake in running away from fear. By using repetition and the second person, she assumes the role of a person giving advice. She compares fear to a shadow, using a metaphor to emphasize the extent to which fear is tied to a person.

“There was clapping and hollering, whistling and stomping, and the faces blurred as I whizzed and spun past, but I could see that they were smiling. When the song faded, I was breathless but elated, and my dance partner bowed to me and I bowed back.”

By using gerunds, the author creates a loud, exciting scene around Robin as she dances with the boy in the shebeen. This electric experience fades a moment later when Phumla still refuses to help her, but the support that Robin receives from the people in the shebeen during her dance gives her strength and encouragement.

“‘Promise me you will not grow up and become one of them.’ ‘One of who?’ ‘The whites who hate us. Don’t grow up and forget how much the same we are, you and me. Promise?’”

This dialogue between Robin and the boy she dances with demonstrates the desperation of being a child growing up under the system of apartheid. They don’t understand, because the system isn’t logical. All they can do is ask someone from the other side to promise to be different.

“It is my greatest fear that one day I will wake up and be someone you would not recognize, or even worse, someone you could not love.”

This line in Nomsa’s letter characterizes both Nomsa and Beauty. For Nomsa, Beauty is a moral compass whose love, she imagines, could fade if she made the wrong decisions. In reality, Beauty never gives up on Nomsa because she knows that Nomsa could never willingly do the things Beauty fears she will. Nevertheless, the thought of Beauty guides Nomsa back to herself.

“I wanted Beauty to know that I understood that love can only be given by one who is free to choose, and that I was forever freeing her of her obligation to me.”

In trying to hold onto Beauty, Robin kept her captive by withholding the truth. Making this mistake teaches Robin that she could never have kept Beauty by lying to her. Even if Beauty remained, the bond between them wouldn’t be real because the foundation would be false. This statement reveals an understanding that marks Robin’s character growth.

“In the darkness of my grief, she’d taken my hand and walked with me through the crucible. She’d brought love and life and color into my world, and I’d never see things in simple black and white again.”

Robin compares grief to darkness. Rather than becoming lost, she let Beauty guide her to where she could see color, not only black and white. This statement also refers to the way Robin sees race. Because Beauty showed her the complexities of life, Robin can no longer see a person as one thing.