THE ACCIDENTAL DEATH OF A GOOD COLOURED MAN

The Accidental Death of a Good Coloured Man” is perhaps best described by using the Dickensian sense of balance evoked by the iconic “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times …” for seamlessly juxtaposing the painfully personal against the sometimes frustrating banality of universal human experience. The narrative is masterfully presented through the fractured lens, and against the stifling backdrop, of being coloured during the apartheid era. The novel ends with the reader out of breadth, exhausted by both the occasional slog through the banal and more frequent exhilarating Usain Boltian sprints “Accidental Death” takes by turns. The journey through “Accidental Death” is both deeply emotive and profoundly cerebral: an uncompromisingly human experience not to be missed.