WRITING & RESOURCES
“I do see myself as a storyteller and one of my problems is that I see myself more as a storyteller than as a structured novelist. For example, I know that Kafka’s Curse is a very confusing structure for many people, but I’m primarily a storyteller and I rely on the strength of the story to carry my novel. As for my sense of an audience, I have none. I try not to think of an audience because that would undoubtedly colour things and introduce all kinds of other elements. I do try to think of readers and whether I am being fair to them and explaining myself clearly to them …”
Achmat Dangor, interview by Elaine Young, 2002
WRITING & RESOURCES
Achmat never took a break from writing and managed to balance an intense and demanding career and publish prose and poetry across his life. His first manuscript “Waiting for Leila” won the Mofolo-Plomer Prize in 1979 prior to its publication in 1981, followed by The Z Town Trilogy (1990), then came Kafka’s Curse in 1997 which won him the Herman Charles Bosman prize, a few years later in 2001, Bitter Fruit (republished in 2017) saw him shortlisted for the 2003 International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award and the 2004 Man Booker Prize, Strange Pilgrimages followed in 2013; in 2017 Dikeledi: Child of Tears, No More was published and before his passing he was finalising a childhood memoir, “A Boys’ Story”. There were poetry collections too over the years, Bulldozer in 1983; Exiles Within in 1986; and Private Voices in 1992 and he was awarded the BBC Prize for African Poetry in 1990. Achmat wrote Majiet: A Play in 1986 and collaborated on film scripts with directors Oliver Schmitz, Junaid Ahmed and Anant Singh. “But things were a little hectic,” Achmat understated in a 2017 interview with SAfm’s Literature Programme host Nancy Richards, “I worked for the Kagiso Trust, a development agency from ‘86 to ‘92, then the Independent Development Trust, then the Nelson Mandela’s Children’s Fund. I did take a couple of breaks [from full time work in South Africa], lecturing at New York City University’s Harlem Campus for six months, which is where I started writing Bitter Fruit, and then for UNAIDS in Geneva for two years as Director of Communications, Advocacy and Leadership. Back home I joined the Nelson Mandela Foundation in 2006 and finally left in 2013. But in all this time, it’s the writing that kept me sane.”
One of Achmat’s publishers, Isobel Dixon, expressed her admiration for Achmat having achieved so much despite his intense work schedule. At a literary commemoration of Achmat Dangor, hosted online by the Johannesburg Review of Books, in November 2021, Isobel recollected:
“He was a gentle man and a gentleman, but by no means, meek or mild and he was often fierce and furious in the pages of his own work, with a deep belief in the power of literature. I have looked over evolving biographical notes over the years, taken in glimpses of past travel schedules … with packed meeting agendas with politicians, conferences and development organisations … It can be hard to square the man of that packed agenda and those conferences, with the poetry and short stories, earthy, visceral, multi-lingual … filled with scent, colour, force, love, desire and I’m freshly filled with admiration, awe even, that he managed to encompass so much, in such a short span of time.”
“[My dad] was happiest writing, he was happiest being in his study and writing … he couldn’t wait to come home and sit in his study and write, because that’s who he was, you know. He didn’t become a writer he was born to be a writer. The stories were in him … I think if he had he been born into a different life financially, he would have spent more time writing and I think, he always said to me, ‘I work to support my writing. I work so that I can write because that’s my passion.’”
Justine Dangor, Achmat’s daughter
“I think he would want to be remembered for having been somebody who worked towards changing, at least the lives of some people in this country for the better, for his work at Nelson Mandela Foundation which he was very proud of, his work at Kagiso Trust, his work as young activist, his work as an author and writing was very important to him. So, I think if people were to say, ‘Achmat Dangor Activist’ he probably would say ‘Achmat Dangor, Author and then Activist.’”
Zane Dangor, Achmat’s younger brother
“Achmat introduced our family to literature basically. When he [back] moved into our house in Newclare, he moved in with a whole collection of books … I read many of the books that he brought … it shaped [me] in many ways, Achmat shaped the way I thought about life.”
Moosa Dangor, Achmat’s younger brother
I think that it’s his literary creation and his cultural creations that probably gave him his greatest sense of identity and meaning and my suspicion is that he would best want to be remembered for that and the contributions of his literary works.”
Glenn Moss, Achmat’s colleague and friend
“Achmat was fairly modest, I mean given all his laudations, I think he was a fairly modest human being, so he would probably want to be remembered in context of his society and family and not to be seen as a person alone and on a pedestal, but in situ as a South African coming out of a certain specific circumstance and as a writer in a circle of writers and creative people.”
Oliver Schmitz, Achmat’s colleague and friend
