Etienne van Heerden’s poem on Nelson Mandela’s passing

Etienne van Heerden’s poem on Nelson Mandela’s passing was published in Belgium and the Netherlands, in the leading dalies Trouw (Amsterdam) and De Standaard (Antwerp). Here is the first two pages of the Dutch version of four pages in Holland’s Trouw magazine insert on the Saturday before Mandela’s funeral. The translation was done by Van Heerden’s Dutch translators Martine Vosmaer and Karina van Santen. Click here for an enlargement of the first portion of the poem. Read the complete poem here.

Review in ‘Sunday Argus’: ‘In Love’s Place’

Beverley Roos-Muller reviews In Love’s Place in Sunday Argus, November 3, 2013.

“Leon de Kock’s well-crafted translation from the original Afrikaans publication In stede van die liefde (2005) captures Van Heerden’s muscular language and enables English-language readers an opportunity to once again savour the author’s extraordinary talent. … This is a simply superb rendition by one of Africa’s greatest writers. It’s hard to overestimate just how impressive it is. Very highly recommended.” – Beverley Roos-Muller, Sunday Argus

Click here for an enlargement of the review.

Book launch: ‘Klimtol’ – Bloemfontein, Pretoria, Stellenbosch

Bloemfontein launch

Wednesday, 23 October 2013
18:30 for 19:00
Exclusive Books,
Loch Logan Waterfront,
Bloemfontein

RSVP: lochlogan@exclusivebooks.co.za

Pretoria launch

Thursday, 24 October 2013
18:00 for 18:30
Graffiti bookshop, Lynnwood Bridge, Pretoria

RSVP: lynnwood@graffitibooks.co.za

Stellenbosch launch

Wednesday, 30 October 2013
18:00 for 18:30
De Oewer, Aan de Wagen Weg, Stellenbosch

RSVP: bernadine.fourie@nb.co.za

Interview in ‘Beeld’: ‘Klimtol’

Rudolf Stehle interviews Etienne van Heerden

Wanneer en waar het jy jou eerste jojo gekry? 

1964. Die Coca-Cola-rooibaadjiemanne het die dorp ingery en in die Vic ingeboek. Toe stap hulle na die kroeg waar Bobby Greenblatt van die Papegaaiplaas gereeld met sy perd ingery het en sê: “Ons karre se boots is vol yo-yo’s. Elke skoolkind gaan ene kry.” Ek aanvaar nou dit was elke wit seuntjie. Ek dink die skooldogters en al die swart kinders is verbygegaan. Die volgende oggend was hulle op die verhoog in die skoolsaal en daardie pouse staan ons op die klipperige speelgrond van “Boizaai”, Cradock, en probeer met die spinballetjies triek.