Stephen Johnson was one of the first people my late husband André Brink introduced me to when I made Cape Town my permanent home. He was André’s publisher, advisor and, along with Kerneels Breytenbach, a trustee of The André P. Brink Literary Trust from the time it was established in 2003. Above all, Stephen was a friend André cherished and trusted.

In the past four years since André’s death in February 2015, I had the exceptional privilege of working along Stephen, Kerneels and André’s son Gustav Brink as one of the trustees of André’s Literary Trust. Stephen’s input has been essential to all our decisions and he will be greatly missed in this capacity.
Stephen and I were never personally close, but in my dealings with him, I admired his erudition, his impeccable taste, his love for the written word and the objects which contain it, and his integrity. Seeing Stephen handle a beautiful book and hearing him talk about the writing he admired was pure pleasure. He was an extraordinary, perceptive reader. I remember his eloquence and his voice, both magnificent. He was an old-school publisher – he knew and cared about his writers and befriended many. To him, publishing was an art form as described by another illustrious contributor to this field, the Italian publisher Roberto Calasso. Stephen recognised and revered true talent and treated his authors like royalty. He saw us primarily as creative beings, not only as potential goldmines to be exploited. Expertise, imagination, loyalty and empathy were the cornerstones of his achievements.
It was Stephen who gave me my publishing break when he took on the project which resulted in Touch: Stories of Contact, my first major publication as an editor ten years ago. And more recently, he was one of the people who had helped me navigate the rough waters of a storm I had feared might end my publishing career for good. It is now two published books later and I feel that I have arrived in a safe harbour. I owe a lot of that safety to his wisdom and guidance.
Professionally and personally, we lost a fine man. Whenever we corresponded, he signed his letters with ‘fond regards’ and I associate the phrase with him. His last communications came through on 29 December, one of them also signed thus. I will remember him with the fondest of regards and would like to offer my condolences to all his loved ones as well as the people who were substantially enriched by his presence in their lives. May he rest in peace.

The importance of truth and the careful use of language cannot be underestimated. “Precision, accuracy, and clarity matter, as gestures of respect toward those to whom you speak; toward the subject, whether it’s an individual or the earth itself; toward the historical record. It’s also a kind of self-respect”, writes the award-winning author and intellectual Rebecca Solnit in her latest collection of essays, Call Them by Their True Names. The individual pieces draw our attention to the roots of the present crises facing America and beyond: the infamous election of 2016, inequality, and climate change.
“Loss helps you remember, and loss of a library helps you remember who you truly are”, writes the remarkable Argentine-Canadian wordsmith, Alberto Manguel. Nine years ago, I had the great fortune of spending an afternoon in his company. It was just after a visit to the special collection of a library in the French province of Champagne where I had seen manuscripts from the Middle Ages. The librarian responsible for them handled the treasures in white cotton gloves and, for understandable reasons, would not allow anyone else to touch them. Still spellbound, I told Mr Manguel of the encounter with the precious books and how much I had longed to touch their pages. That is when I found out about his own famous library, located in the home he shared with his partner near Paris, and containing thousands of books, some as ancient and unique as the ones I had seen. And in his kindness, he said that if I ever came to visit, he would allow me to hold these books in my hands.
It is nearly impossible to know where to start when writing about postcolonial studies. This vast field of inquiry has influenced diverse schools of thought and disciplines all over the world. One of its leading scholars in the literature corner is Elleke Boehmer, the author of such seminal works as Colonial and postcolonial literature: Migrant metaphors (1995; expanded edition, 2005), Empire, the national, and the postcolonial, 1890–1920: Resistance in interaction (2002) and Stories of women: Gender and narrative in the postcolonial nation (2005). What sets Boehmer’s work apart from many other academic writers’ is its readability. She is also an acclaimed novelist and short story writer. These two facts are most likely related. They also allow the author to view the topic of her latest book, Postcolonial poetics: 21st-century critical readings, from a rare perspective, as a theorist and practitioner of the art of creative writing.

It is heartening to see the proliferation of high quality poetry collections on the local literary scene, publishers like uHlanga Press, Modjaji Books, Protea Book House and Dryad Press leading the way. The history of intimacy by Gabeba Baderoon – “[a]n exquisite new collection from one of South Africa’s finest, most treasured poets”, according to Nadia Davids – is the only poetry volume published by Kwela Books this year, but one which is a most welcome addition to the plethora of distinguished South African poetic voices. It is Baderoon’s fourth after The dream in the next body (2005), The museum of ordinary life (2005) and A hundred silences (2006). She is also the author of the monograph Regarding Muslims: From slavery to post-apartheid (2014).
“For journalists everywhere working to report the news”, says Michiko Kakutani’s dedication in her latest book, The Death of Truth, published only a few weeks ago. The Pulitzer Prize-winning literary critic started her journalism career at The Washington Post, the newspaper that Jamal Khashoggi was writing for at the time of his brutal murder earlier this month.
The city is Lviv. The house with the stained-glass window is an architectural treasure. The four generations of women living in it are steeped in the setting’s rich and deeply troubled history. And so begins Żanna Słoniowska’s magnetic debut novel. Ukrainian-born, Słoniowska has settled in Cracow, Poland, and published The House with the Stained-Glass Window in Polish. It won the esteemed Znak Publishers’ Literary Prize and the Conrad Prize for first novels. It was shortlisted for Poland’s most prestigious literary award, the Nike (not to be confused with the sports brand), a respected recognition. Translated seamlessly into English by Antonia Lloyd-Jones, the book is one of those historical novels that manages to encapsulate a century of socio-political hopes and upheavals in Ukraine’s most famous city by portraying the private and intimate lives of a single family, specifically the women who shaped its core.