The White Giraffe

“It rose from the airport runway in a soupy, silvery haze so thick that the horizon appeared to bow under the weight of the blue sky, and all the planes had wavy edges as if in a dream.”

Using sensory language, the author conveys the contrasting climates of London and South Africa to create a visceral sense of the transition that Martine must endure as she traverses oceans and continents on her journey toward her new home. To this end, St. John personifies the heat, making it appear as if it is alive. The comparison to soup also conveys the thick oppressiveness of the air. The drastic change in climate, coupled with her lingering grief, disorients Martine and add to the surreal feeling of the moment.

“There be too many secrets at Sawubona. The chile has a right to know the truth.”

With Grace’s bold and enigmatic statement, the author also invokes the rhythm and cadence of dialect. According to the author’s note at the end of the novel, Grace’s mother was Zulu, and her father is from the Caribbean, so her dialect is Afro-Caribbean. The passage also displays foreshadowing and contributes to the mystery of the story. In this scene alone, Martine senses that there are many things she doesn’t yet understand about her grandmother and Sawubona. Grace confirms that notion by acknowledging the secrecy surrounding it.

“The young springboks were bouncing around the shallows as if they had mini-trampolines attached to their hooves, and the guinea fowl, which she’d earlier seen waddling along the roadside like plump, blue-speckled kings, were crying in the trees as they settled down to roost.”

This passage is an example of the many ways in which the author describes the natural landscape with a particular focus on wildlife. The author uses figurative language to describe the appearance and movements of the animals in an almost cinematic fashion, evoking all the major senses and creating a sense of a lively panorama full of unfamiliar life. Although Martine feels uncomfortable in Gwyn’s home, she falls in love with the landscape and the animals of South Africa.

“What kind of gift came with a warning?”

Martine’s meeting with Grace emphasizes the element of magical realism that pervades the narrative; Martine’s spiritual gift of healing is the chief example of this, with Grace’s prophetic powers coming as a close second. However, the wonder of this particular moment is tinged with ominous dread as Grace explains to Martine that her gift does not come without complications. Grace’s warning also serves to foreshadow more conflict to come for Martine and adds to the tension in the story.

“Outside, the wind slapped and banged around the house, and the thunder cracked as if a thousand boulders were breaking across the heavens.”

Storms become an important motif in the story, and the storms that Martine experiences in South Africa feel far more intense and menacing than any that she has ever experienced. In this description, the author uses personification to make the storm appear alive and sentient as it slaps the house. She also uses a simile to compare the storm sounds to crashing rocks to convey the full ferocity of the weather.

“A Cape cobra was coiled in the mud barely six feet away from her, hood spread wide, swaying in the yellow light.”

Cape cobras are one of the most venomous snakes in Africa. Distinguished by its distinctive hoods flaring from the side of its head, the sight of a cobra signals immediate danger. The snake also symbolizes the unseen dangers lurking inside the preserve. Martine takes a risk by going inside alone, and her encounter with the snake marks a turning point in the story as it is her first brush with the threat of death in Africa. However, it also brings her into contact with the giraffe, implying that the reward of some experiences is well worth the risk involved.

“And you know what happens to people who play with fire... […].”

Alex’s incomplete thought stands as an ominous threat because it invites Martine to imagine a host of potential consequences, but the wording of this threat also reveals Alex’s deliberate cruelty, for the image his threat evokes is also designed to play upon the deep grief that still affects Martine’s psyche. His use of a familiar idiom about staying away from danger is also a cutting reminder of how she lost her parents. Thus, Alex du Preez uses a calculated combination of fear and intimidation to keep Martine from interfering with his poaching plans.

“It looked innocent enough, but it had a brutal and bloody history as an escape route of slaves in the days when the British ruled the Cape colony.”

Through the tour of the botanical gardens, the students learn about South Africa’s complicated history. The Dutch first colonized South Africa, thus the Dutch name of the botanical gardens, Kirstenbosch. It later became a British colony in the early 20th century. Since Cape Town is a coastal area, it also became a hub for those who trafficked enslaved people.

“But the really creepy part was the sky, which boiled with an odd violet light. It looked less like a storm was approaching than some weather phenomenon, like a tornado or tempest.”

Fierce storms are a recurring motif in the story representing turmoil, power, and change. This particular storm precedes Martine’s discovery of her gift to heal animals. Martine also sees the dream she had the night her parents died come to life as a true storm rolls across the sky. By using more dramatic diction like “tempest,” the author gives the storm a more menacing feeling and adds to the foreboding tone of the passage as a whole.

“He believed in a South Africa where men from all colors are equal. Not everybody does.”

Tendai refers to the system of apartheid, or racial segregation, which existed in South Africa for over 50 years. Apartheid, which is the direct result of colonization, ensured that white people remained in positions of power and led to Black South African citizens living in abject poverty. However, Tendai asserts that Martine’s grandfather, Henry, was not racist.

“[…] and crested gray louries, which her grandmother and Tendai referred to as ‘go away’ birds because that’s what they seemed to shout at potential predators.”

Incorporating her knowledge of the flora and fauna of South Africa, the author describes the lourie by its unique, onomatopoeic name. The bird is named after the sound it makes, adding a layer of auditory description to the story. The sensory details create a deeper understanding of the rich wildlife that thrives in the South African setting.

“Due no doubt to the gales that ripped around the mountain, it had grown stunted and misshapen over the years, and now, Martine thought with a shudder, it stood among the boulders like a sinister sentinel.”

Before discovering the lush, Eden-like Secret Valley, Martine stumbles upon a wasteland in which the one tree remaining is twisted and frightening and stands like a warning to keep people away. The author uses both simile and alliteration in the description of the tree, comparing it to a soldier keeping watch over the secret place. In this way, the more secret aspects of the preserve take on a life of their own as not just the animals, but the very features of the land itself, gain a sense of sentience and awareness when faced with the threat of human encroachment.

“But every one of them lived and breathed. They spoke to her from across the ages as clearly as if their creators were standing in front of her, telling her of battles lost and won, feasts and famines, times of pestilence and times of plenty.”

Seeing the ancient cave drawings has a powerful effect on Martine and allows her to build a spiritual connection with their ancient, long-dead artists. Discovering the Secret Valley and the cave drawings brings her to a deeper awareness of her purpose in life and a more profound respect for the history of the land and its people. The author uses vivid imagery in the passage to describe the painted images as though they were still living, breathing people, an effect that brings paintings themselves to life until one might almost imagine them springing off the cave wall and dancing.

“They’d been painted by the San people, as the Bushmen were known, centuries before the white man ever came, using iron ore, china clay, and ox gall.”

The San people represent one of the oldest Indigenous cultures in southern Africa. By studying the cave drawings, Martine can peer back through the ages, into the very beginnings of human existence in the area. In particular, she sees a representation of what the region was like before white men colonized it and perpetuated the many deleterious effects that still exist today. To further the lessons inherent in the cave drawings, Grace becomes a teacher both for Martine, and for the readers who follow Martine’s story. In this way, St. John uses the character of Grace to spread knowledge about African culture and history.

“With dawn unfolding like a scarlet banner above her head and birds competing to announce the arrival of another perfect summer’s day […].”

The author uses vivid imagery to convey the noisy beauty of the bird-filled sunrise. She uses a simile to compare the dawn to a red banner, giving the new day purpose as it marches over the horizon. Similarly, by personifying the birds’ calls, the author makes them sound human as they proclaim that another day has begun. The description therefore demonstrates Martine’s growing kinship with her surroundings.

“The twisted tree glared at them, guarding its secret like a living beast.”

The author personifies the tree, first as a human but then as a type of creature. Its appearance adds to the mystery of the story and foreshadows the danger to come. The barren wasteland and twisted tree also strike a sharp contrast with the lush, verdant valley, highlighting its beauty and mystery.

“Martine had a sudden premonition of danger.”

Sometimes also referred to as an omen or intuition, Martine’s visions stand as a quasi-magical ability to see things that will happen in the future. Although not quite as well-developed as Grace’s prophetic gift, her own prophetic dream predicts the botanical garden incident in every detail, and in this particular moment, she has a feeling that there is more danger approaching. Martine’s abilities, or gifts, add to the magical thread running through the narrative and foreshadow future conflict in the story.

“But at those words, the memory of Tendai’s story came burning through her like liquid fire.”

Seeing the Five Star Gang bully Ben sparks a rebellious fire inside Martine, invoking the powerful symbol of fire in a positive, protective sense, and she acts impulsively to defend him from his tormentors. Fire is a recurring motif in the narrative, symbolizing the power that lies within Martine to help others, if she only has the strength to kindle it to life and feed it with her bold actions.

“When I got there, she was reading the bones- Africans with second sight throw bones the way Western fortune-tellers use crystal balls and tarot cards […].”

Also called bone-casting, the tradition of scattering bones is practiced by traditional healers in many different African cultures. In the same way that some European cultures use crystal balls and tarot readings to make sense of present circumstances or predict the future, African healers interpret the tangled configurations of the scattered bones to divine meaning or gain wisdom about a specific situation.

“It poured into her veins like molten lava, warming her bones and clearing her head.”

Grace’s food has a powerful effect on Martine. She eats her first meal at Grace’s house when she first arrives in South Africa jet-lagged and grief-stricken. At this moment, Grace’s food calms her in ways that words cannot accomplish, by relieving the physical effects of the girl’s anxiety. The author uses a simile to compare the warmth of the food to volcanic lava, yet another indirect reference to fire.

“The ocean wind cut through her thin t-shirt like a knife, and the salty air tingles in her nostrils.”

Martine’s senses are hyper-aware as she enters the port alone to save Jemmy. The effect of the wind is violent, adding to the dangerous tone of the situation. The use of violent figurative language adds to the tension as the narrative comes to its climax and the risks inherent in Martine’s actions reach their highest peak.

“[…] the ship creaked, seethed, and groaned like a wounded beast.”

The author uses onomatopoeia to evoke the sounds of the boat moving in the water and create a tense, foreboding atmosphere. The ominous sounds add to the suspense as Martine rushes to find Jemmy before it’s too late. Comparing the boat to a wounded creature also personifies the setting as a place of suffering and alludes to the presence of actual wounded animals hidden in the vessel.

“Ahead of them was a perfect rainbow. It arched over Gwyn Thomas’s thatched house and ended in the game park, close to the water hole.”

Rainbows are traditionally seen as signs of hope and a promise of good things to come. After all the trauma and heartache that Martine has experienced, the presence of the rainbow signifies that better days are ahead for her. She therefore returns to Sawubona in a hopeful mood, finally feeling at home.