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A review by book_concierge
When a Crocodile Eats the Sun: A Memoir of Africa by Peter Godwin
3.0
3.5***
Peter Godwin was born and raised in Rhodesia. He was away at Oxford when the war for independence was finalized and the country became Zimbabwe. He returned in 1982, working for a time as a lawyer, but settling on journalism and moving away from his homeland. His parents remained in Zimbabwe, their failing health and increased frailty mirroring the slow destruction of a once-vibrant economy into anarchy and destruction. This is Godwin’s memoir of the years from 1996, when his father had his first heart attack, through 2004.
This was not what I was expecting. Somehow when I learned this was a memoir of a white African, I assumed it would be about his youth. But this is the story of an adult son coming to grips with the mortality of his parents, and learning something about himself as a man in the process. Along the way, Godwin examines the problems of the country he still calls “home,” though he may never live there again, nor even visit again. His brutal honesty about deteriorating conditions is an eye-opener to anyone who has ignored the relatively sparse newscasts about Zimbabwe’s “president” Robert Mugabe.
There really is no way for Godwin to tell his family story without also telling the story of Zimbabwe. I think he does a respectable job of journalistic reporting on the country and its issues, while still giving us a very personal and intimate look at his relationship with his parents and his home.
Peter Godwin was born and raised in Rhodesia. He was away at Oxford when the war for independence was finalized and the country became Zimbabwe. He returned in 1982, working for a time as a lawyer, but settling on journalism and moving away from his homeland. His parents remained in Zimbabwe, their failing health and increased frailty mirroring the slow destruction of a once-vibrant economy into anarchy and destruction. This is Godwin’s memoir of the years from 1996, when his father had his first heart attack, through 2004.
This was not what I was expecting. Somehow when I learned this was a memoir of a white African, I assumed it would be about his youth. But this is the story of an adult son coming to grips with the mortality of his parents, and learning something about himself as a man in the process. Along the way, Godwin examines the problems of the country he still calls “home,” though he may never live there again, nor even visit again. His brutal honesty about deteriorating conditions is an eye-opener to anyone who has ignored the relatively sparse newscasts about Zimbabwe’s “president” Robert Mugabe.
There really is no way for Godwin to tell his family story without also telling the story of Zimbabwe. I think he does a respectable job of journalistic reporting on the country and its issues, while still giving us a very personal and intimate look at his relationship with his parents and his home.