Blanket Boy, by Peter Lanham and A. S. Mopeli-Paulus
Blanket Boy is quite an enjoyable book to read, but it can hardly be considered a serious contribution either to the art of the novel or to the study of race relations in South Africa. At its best, it is a kind of thriller, a rather low-grade South African picaresque, an adventure story, but it is rarely more than that. For this reason there is extraordinarily little to say about it: the book does not even permit itself to become the text for a sermon, as does South Africa’s other and most famous modern novel, Cry, the Beloved Country.
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