Out of Africa

The editors' preface to Out of Africa talks about both her view of Africa and her life. It speaks of her writing; of her love of Africa, the fact most immediately apparent from her writing; and her life itself. I was interested, first reading this, to hear of her other writing; and it amuses me that everyone assumed that Isak Dinesen was male, although indeed it is a male name, so perhaps the public is excused. It is disappointing but understandable that the Baroness never returned to Africa: it is true: it would not have been the same, it would have been uncomfortably, horribly changed. But through her writing, she can remember the old Africa, her Africa, and we can learn of it. I was also interested to learn about her husband, who is mentioned once, in a reference to the early years on the farm, and nowhere else. The preface tells that she married her cousin, and that the farm was a wedding gift from their family, that they were married for seven years, and when they divorced, she stayed on the farm. The husband is, in fact, a means for getting to the farm and, as far as the rest of us are concerned, not much else. It is difficult to discern how Dinesen felt about him: she speaks of him little and casually, mentioning "my husband" and passing on to what she was going to say. It is as though he were irrelevant--and perhaps, to this book, he is. 

Alan Moorhead's introduction speaks more of the quality of the writing than of the author herself. He talks of the style, impressed that the poetry of her phrases, a difficult thing to carry off even writing in one's native tongue, has endured the changing of tastes the way it has. He considers the quality of her view of Africa, wondering if this, a European work, will be accepted by the Africans as African literature. I think it certainly should be. He considers her as a person; not, however, in a biographical way, but an intellectual, speaking not of her life, but her mind. I think it's interesting that both introduction discuss her attitude to the natives: one of love, respect, and very clear seeing. She does not condescend, Moorehead says: she accepts them, as humans, giving them, most importantly, their dignity.  From here he goes on to speak of her way of bringing quotes to mind in the day-to-day occurrences of the farm. It's very typical of the well-educated great women writers of that period, but Moorehead sees it as a particular necessity for writing like this: applied education, seeing the country through the eyes of literature. I believe the phrase he used was "connecting it to the whole of human experience." He concludes with, again, the question of whether this work will be embraced by the Africans as their own, and answers it: yes. Probably.