There are aspects of this novel that I really loved. The writing is exceptional in places. The lack of speech marks adds to the overall ‘feel’ of the narrative, as do the lack of chapters, and the narrator, who is or isn’t the character from whose point of view we’re currently in, works so well in the context. The characters are complex and flawed and carry their respective pasts with them, pasts that imbue everything they do and lead them through they decisions the subsequently make.

There are some dramatic and quite shocking moments – not surprising as the structure of the narrative hangs on four family funerals; of these, one of the deaths is expected, two brutal, and the fourth is actually quite funny in a tragic way. Despite the drama that there undoubtedly is, it’s all very understated and the general feeling throughout is one of stifled emotions, and repression. It feels like everyone’s feelings are bundled up and held close, and no one finds any release. This is beautifully done, seamless, and as a writer and editor, I could only admire (and, if I’m honest, envy) the skill that the author has.

The promise of the book’s title refers not only the promise made to Salome, but the promise each of the Swart siblings has and which feels frittered away, or purposefully squandered, and the promise that the end of apartheid seemed to have, and which, many, including the author, would say it has failed to deliver.

For all it’s death and politics and humanity, my overriding feeling about this novel is that it is quiet, without being gentle. If you like fast-paced novels, where lots happens, this isn’t going to be something you enjoy, but for me, it was a thoughtful book, that made me think, and one that I admire.

One of the finest books of literary fiction i have read in the past year. See YouTube link provided to my vlog.

The Promise is a Booker prize winning novel about a white South African family and their coming to terms with the end of apartheid. The title relates to a deathbed promise of a gift of a shack to the black housekeeper and how it is wilfully ignored. With the exception of the youngest daughter they are in the main a thoroughly reprehensible set of characters. A well written story.

The Swarts are a family of white South African farmers. The Promise tells their story from the 1980s onwards through the prism of four funerals. It begins when Amor is brought home from school to join her father and siblings because her mother Rachel has just died.

The promise of the title was made to Rachel by their father. Rachel wanted their black servant, Salome, to have the house she lived in on the farm. Amor witnessed his agreement and presses him on it but to no avail.

You might therefore expect the promise, its consequences, and its effect on Salome and her son to be central to the novel. Instead it is background, as is apartheid and its aftermath, the changing political culture, crime and corruption, truth and reconciliation, and outbreaks of violence. They are all part of the lives of the characters, and they shape them in profound ways, but for the characters money, sex and the search for meaning are to the fore.

In a sense this is a powerful comment. Something that would be transformative for Salome is of only marginal interest to the family, an irritant in the corner of their eyes. Despite the fact that Salome grew up with Rachel, and her son was a childhood friend of Rachel’s children, that she is a constant presence in their home, cooking and cleaning and nurturing, we have only occasional glimpses of her and learn little about her thoughts.

However, there is also an implicit promise to the reader that this conflict will drive the story. I kept waiting for the novel to get going, dismissing the family soap opera as a prelude to the real narrative. When I was halfway through and realised that their patchwork of inner musings was the novel, I wondered why I should keep reading. The Swarts just aren’t that interesting (despite some of them dying in dramatic fashion).

The writing is good, there is lovely observation and moments of wry humour, but that will only get you so far. And ‘you’ are rather central to the narrative, which roves around various points of view. As well as the family all having their say, sometimes in alternating sentences in the same scene, minor characters appear for a few pages then fade away. Dialogue is not punctuated so it’s not always clear what is spoken and what is only thought.

A god-like narrator occasionally intervenes and breaks the frame, but not with any consistency, so the ‘you’ in any given sentence might be the reader, or a character accusing another in their thoughts, or addressing their own divided self.

I did read to the end, where there is a resolution of sorts, but it is contingent, the authorial voice points out it couldn’t have happened exactly as it’s told, the outcome is not what any of the various yous might have hoped for, it will not heal all that has gone before. In this, the family drama and the national one are neatly tied.

Overall, Booker Prize winner The Promise was interesting in many ways but felt too long, while Booker shortlisted The Good Doctor was a terse, brilliant read that told a complex story of post-apartheid South Africa through a confined cast of characters. Is it another case of right author, wrong book?
*
I received a copy of The Promise from the publisher via Netgalley.

I found this South African family saga absolutely captivating, the style of writing seemed very different to what I am used to, but once I got used to it I just couldn’t put the book down. A great story.

Unfortunately very difficult to get into despite the premise and I was unable to finish. Worth a read if you persevere I think!

I struggled with this one and did not like the format style of how this had been written. Unfortunately this book was not for me.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I found it well-structured and engaging. It definitely widened my perspective.

As Amor’s mother is dying, Amor overhears her extract a promise from her husband that he will give their Black servant, Salome, the house that she lives in. The book is told in four parts, each about a member of the family, and how they manage to avoid fulfilling this promise over the years. I found each of the stories in it absorbing, and the whole gives an excellent depiction of how South Africa developed in the years following the end of apartheid. One of my books of the year, and I'm delighted it won the Booker - well deserved!

This really is as marvellous as many of the reviews have said. It is structured around four funerals (no wedding) in the Swart family and uses a polyphony of often overlapping narrative voices to track the recent history of South Africa from the late apartheid period and the enduring refusal to address the book's eponymous promise. Subtle, beautifully written and evocative, it's dense without being overpowering and powerful without being overlong. I didn't find it depressing at all and it is blackly hilarious at times, for example when a crematorium worker mixes some of the remains from one of the funerals with "his immediate predecessor, an associate professor in the field of Slavic languages, who choked to death on a banana". Really worth your time.

Ok .. strangely dry but I'd picked this up hearing about the author's skill as writer .. and that's for sure .. characters' complexities are established early on and despite (for me) slow uptake I came to care very much and chew my way through. Worthy effort from adept writer ..

“from a doorway on the far side his mother emerges. She advances between the beds, and when she arrives she bends down to plant a cool kiss upon his forehead. Thus in dreams do the dead return to you.”

My thanks to Random House U.K. Vintage Chatto & Windus for an eARC via NetGalley of ‘The Promise’ by Damon Galgut in exchange for an honest review. My apologies for the late feedback.

This is a family saga set in South Africa during the transition from apartheid to the post-apartheid Rainbow Nation. Its focus is upon the Swarts, a prosperous white family living on a farm outside of Pretoria. It opens in 1986 with the death of 40-year-old, Rachel Swart, mother of Anton, Astrid, and Amor.

Rachel’s Afrikaner husband, Manie, promised to honour her dying wish that Salome, their black maid, would be given the deeds to the small house in which she and her children had been living. Amor, their youngest daughter, overhears this promise and continues to remind her father. Yet he conveniently keeps forgetting and when reminded becomes quite belligerent about it. Decades pass and the promise remains unfulfilled.

The third person narrative voice is quite fluid, almost stream-of-consciousness, as it moves between various characters and also addresses the reader directly. The novel also considers the important changes in South African society through this same period.

Like many serious literary novels this was somewhat challenging though undoubtedly beautifully written. I had previously read Damon Galgut’s ‘In a Strange Room’ in 2010 and so was prepared.

Despite its modest length, ‘The Promise’ managed to cover a great deal of material as well as the passage of time. This kind of economy is something that I admire. Its final pages made for powerful reading as an encounter between Amor and her childhood playmate conveyed an uncomfortable message.

‘The Promise’ may well be a strong contender for this year’s Booker Prize given its themes and narrative style. In addition, it is both readable and relatable.

I enjoyed this book. It was a tough book chronologising the 40 years of this family history. It was uncomfortable reading at times as there is the element of truth within the pages. It appears to be a story of a dysfunctional family and how they approach their lives after the promise has been broken. Definitely worth a read.

Thank you to the author, publisher and NetGalley for allowing me to read this arc in exchange for an honest review.

The harm a 'millions paper cuts' of minor acts can cause to other human beings, is laid out in this book. Too sad to read. A cloud of sadness hung over of me every time I started reading it.

The Promise is on the Booker Prize 2021 shortlist, and I can see why. I enjoyed this book immensely - I love the idea of being a fly on the wall of a white South Africans house during and after Apartheid, and this pretty much sold the book to me before I even started reading it. The fact that we only drop in to the lives of this family during times of death and the subsequent funerals was a really interesting angle to take. These were people under a great deal of stress due to the fact that someone in their close family had died - even though they weren’t a close family at all. There are four funerals, each completely different in style, religion (or not) and ways in which they died.

As time moves on, Apartheid ends, Nelson Mandela becomes President. But does life change that much for the Swarts? Do they uphold the promise made at the beginning of the book, as overheard by the youngest daughter when her mother was dying? Laws may change, but do people’s attitudes?

This is a disjointed family: there doesn’t seem to be a single close relationship between any of them. They all seem to be selfish people who resent the new South Africa, as they lose social standing, money, and are directly affected by the rise in crime.

It was a thoroughly engrossing book, and I lost myself in it every time I sat down to read. It’s a really good, character-driven novel. Now to wait and see if it wins!!

This is the first time I have read a book by this author. My interest was spiked by the synopsis and I was not disappointed.

The premise of the story is simple - a promise is made but is not kept, at least not straight away. But it is about so much more than that. This book is about the Swart family, their similarities, differences, religions, morals and so much more. Anton, Astrid and Amor are the three siblings in the family and each has a chapter leading part of the storyline. Amongst this Galgut has woven historical events and numerous other characters giving an exceptional sense of place, culture and atmosphere. Some of the characters are very much a backdrop and not really part of the central story at all, for example the homeless man living in the church doorway and yet without them, something would be lost.

This is a book you have to think about and one that makes you think. On the one hand, I thought the 'story' was a bit slow in places. But it is multilayered and gradually revealed. I think it is a book that will stay with me for some time and be remembered. The writing and the language are fabulous. I enjoyed reading The Promise and will be very likely to read other books by Damon Galgut.

Thank you to NetGalley for an early copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

The first few pages of this book had me enthralled. There was an intensity that struck me and convinced me I would love the book. Alas, soon that feeling faded. The story remained interesting, but the style of writing lost grip of me.

It's a dense read on a fairly heavy subject, which is a fitting combination really. But it made it harder to breeze over certain choices. Characters take over the story with ease, switching too seamlessly at times. The use of pronouns instead of names meaning I found myself taking a beat to ensure I knew which he or she was being referenced at times. With clearer delineation between story parts I feel it would've flowed far more easily. The thing is though, I don't know if that would've given the same story. As I say, the topic of death and family strive do make the density feel apt. Perhaps I just tried reading it at the wrong time of year, or in the wrong environment. Maybe this needs a glass of brandy by a fire looking out at snow-covered fields. Maybe it suits bright sunny days with a lemonade on the porch. I don't know. I got a grey wet British summer which neither lifted the story nor enveloped it in mood.

Find your comfort with the book and you'll enjoy it. But without that, I just felt it took a little more effort than it should. It made the experience just a little askew and less enjoyable. Good qualities got sidelined by a less accessible style and that disappointed me.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. The asides addressing the reader directly made for quite a different resd. Thoroughly enjoyable.

This novel tells the story of the disintegration of a family of white Afrikaner farmers against the vaguely and rarely referenced backdrop of a changing South Africa.

I found the main characters to be depressingly insipid and lacking in agency, simply drifting through life. I made no emotional connection with them and couldn’t have cared if they had all died in a car crash, but then they didn’t seem to care much either.

Even several of the side characters, who seem at first to be reasonable, are later mocked by the author as he brings their failings to the foreground.
The narrative is too apathetic to be called satire and the mockery does not engender cruel laughter rather a reflection on the dreary and uninspiring nature of the whole situation.

And yet I enjoyed reading it. The writing was compelling.
I may not have been invested in the characters but I was interested in how the story would end.
I gave this book 3.5 stars rounded up to 4. It feels strange to give such a depressing book 4 stars but 3 stars is definitely not enough.

The Swarts are an Afrikaner family living outside Pretoria, and have gathered on the family farm for their mother’s funeral. It is obvious form the start that this is no united family and that they are constantly at odds with one other, not least in their attitude to Salome, their black servant, who has worked for them devotedly for many years. The eponymous promise is one that the mother wants carried out after her death – that Salome should be given the dilapidated house she lives in. This promise is delayed year after year and creates even more tension amongst the family, a family that is disintegrating before our eyes, just as the country is. It’s a multi-layered, ambitious and complex novel about broken promises, endemic racism, segregation, white privilege and the end of apartheid, weighty themes which Galgut deftly handles with insight and nuance, always avoiding stereotypes and trite answers to the many issues he tackles. I found the book absorbing and involving, and a convincing portrait of an evolving society.