Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood by Trevor Noah
'Born a Crime' is a fast-paced narrative of Trevor Noah's life. I knew nothing about Trevor's background except that he is an American celebrity. I liked his talk shows, like million others.
His story comes as a huge shock. Looking at him today, I find it hard to believe that he went through so much, so early in life. Actually, what I see in him today is intelligence, cat-like agility, and talent to connect with others. I liked reading about his childhood. He was clever and resourceful, and even as a child he would run small, profitable ventures in his school. His quickness in thinking things, and then working upon them is impressive. As a reader, I saw he is everything that I am not. But I liked reading about his unfamiliar, fascinating world.
The book is written in conversational style. He writes the way he speaks. The narrative flow remains smooth throughout the book.
However, there are also a few things about the book that I found annoying. His depiction of his father – there is nothing wrong with that man. He is white, fair (and everything else that come with 'whiteness'). His father did everything fine. Trevor describes him as Swiss, fair and precise (as if being Swiss, automatically, makes him all that). He is portrayed as a man who so kindly gave his sperm to an African woman who so badly wanted to have his child. He submits to her hunger and fulfilled her need like a benign Christian missionary. I guess being 'a fair man' he should have known the consequence of such an act; he should have known the power imbalance between him and the woman. He should have known that the burden of raising the child would only be on her. He should have thought about the child who would grow fatherless. But the fair precise, democratic, non-racist man fucked and then disappeared. He was just Robert to Trevor, someone who was nice to him on Sundays and Christmas holidays, and on all those days when he was not giving in to hungry black women his Swiss, precious, and fair sperm.
I did not fully comprehend his mother's character as well. In parts, I liked her. What I liked the most that Trevor loves his mother. Only Trevor's love for her is her true recommendation. In the memoir, there are many things that I did not understand. Even though he is his mother's fan, one cannot help thinking about her in a negative light.
Clearly, she thought that whiteness is somehow better than her own culture. It is not stated in the book and I am not sure if Trevor realized that himself while he wrote the book. Throughout the book, the way her mother raises him it sounds like his mother is white trapped in a black body: 'clean your room' 'do the dishes' 'help me in the kitchen.' Now when one looks at the world around him; his grandparents, cousins, neighbors, I did not understand where his mother's values were coming from. There is nothing wrong with those things, in fact, all children should be taught lessons in self-reliance. But this very conscious distancing from one's own culture, and one's people could be dangerous when it is done to inhabit 'whiteness' to strengthen one's position in society. On so many occasions, I feel troubled by the dynamic of mother-son relationship. The very things they condemn are the things they want to be.
The book tells us a lot about apartheid. But it only talks about black people. What happens to them: drugs, alcohol, sexual abuse, domestic violence, prison. Almost all the stereotypes of blackness come true. And somehow 'whiteness' remains in the background – invisible. The book delineates the stories of victims, but the perpetrators are nowhere on the scene. They manage to remain unseen, fair and precise. This is bizarre in the context of South Africa.
For instance, Trevor, as a child, feels the hideousness of Abel, his mother's black boyfriend, much before he actually becomes violent (Children are quick to learn the prejudices of the adults, of society).
As for Robert, his own biological father, Trevor absolves him of bringing him into the world like a dirty secret.
In others words, 'black crimes' are crimes; 'white crimes' are merely enforcement of laws.
The black man tries to absolutely possess the women. When he fails, he shoots her in the head – and then gives himself in. The white man shoots her with his sperm without committing anything. Knowing well that it was not just sex, that it would have consequences. But he goes ahead, and then abandons her – and the not yet born child.
His story comes as a huge shock. Looking at him today, I find it hard to believe that he went through so much, so early in life. Actually, what I see in him today is intelligence, cat-like agility, and talent to connect with others. I liked reading about his childhood. He was clever and resourceful, and even as a child he would run small, profitable ventures in his school. His quickness in thinking things, and then working upon them is impressive. As a reader, I saw he is everything that I am not. But I liked reading about his unfamiliar, fascinating world.
The book is written in conversational style. He writes the way he speaks. The narrative flow remains smooth throughout the book.
However, there are also a few things about the book that I found annoying. His depiction of his father – there is nothing wrong with that man. He is white, fair (and everything else that come with 'whiteness'). His father did everything fine. Trevor describes him as Swiss, fair and precise (as if being Swiss, automatically, makes him all that). He is portrayed as a man who so kindly gave his sperm to an African woman who so badly wanted to have his child. He submits to her hunger and fulfilled her need like a benign Christian missionary. I guess being 'a fair man' he should have known the consequence of such an act; he should have known the power imbalance between him and the woman. He should have known that the burden of raising the child would only be on her. He should have thought about the child who would grow fatherless. But the fair precise, democratic, non-racist man fucked and then disappeared. He was just Robert to Trevor, someone who was nice to him on Sundays and Christmas holidays, and on all those days when he was not giving in to hungry black women his Swiss, precious, and fair sperm.
I did not fully comprehend his mother's character as well. In parts, I liked her. What I liked the most that Trevor loves his mother. Only Trevor's love for her is her true recommendation. In the memoir, there are many things that I did not understand. Even though he is his mother's fan, one cannot help thinking about her in a negative light.
Clearly, she thought that whiteness is somehow better than her own culture. It is not stated in the book and I am not sure if Trevor realized that himself while he wrote the book. Throughout the book, the way her mother raises him it sounds like his mother is white trapped in a black body: 'clean your room' 'do the dishes' 'help me in the kitchen.' Now when one looks at the world around him; his grandparents, cousins, neighbors, I did not understand where his mother's values were coming from. There is nothing wrong with those things, in fact, all children should be taught lessons in self-reliance. But this very conscious distancing from one's own culture, and one's people could be dangerous when it is done to inhabit 'whiteness' to strengthen one's position in society. On so many occasions, I feel troubled by the dynamic of mother-son relationship. The very things they condemn are the things they want to be.
The book tells us a lot about apartheid. But it only talks about black people. What happens to them: drugs, alcohol, sexual abuse, domestic violence, prison. Almost all the stereotypes of blackness come true. And somehow 'whiteness' remains in the background – invisible. The book delineates the stories of victims, but the perpetrators are nowhere on the scene. They manage to remain unseen, fair and precise. This is bizarre in the context of South Africa.
For instance, Trevor, as a child, feels the hideousness of Abel, his mother's black boyfriend, much before he actually becomes violent (Children are quick to learn the prejudices of the adults, of society).
As for Robert, his own biological father, Trevor absolves him of bringing him into the world like a dirty secret.
In others words, 'black crimes' are crimes; 'white crimes' are merely enforcement of laws.
The black man tries to absolutely possess the women. When he fails, he shoots her in the head – and then gives himself in. The white man shoots her with his sperm without committing anything. Knowing well that it was not just sex, that it would have consequences. But he goes ahead, and then abandons her – and the not yet born child.
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