This book was written in the year of my birth, 1948, and it has moved me as no other in my 66 years. It is not only a novel, it is a public statement on the system of government which existed in South Africa in that period, and the society it had created - divided, segregated socially as well as economically and, therefore, rendered a permanent tinderbox. It would have been impossible to have lived in Apartheid South Africa and not thought that, somewhere along the way, the system would explode, for it gave the illusion - on the surface - of order which barely covered a roaring disorder underneath. It is a book on human nature, man's inhumanity to man, man's kindness to man, and on the philosophy of life - especially, its frailty and fatality. It is a book on how the poor build that which the powerful destroy. How the poor work, and the rich enjoy. How the poor get poorer and the rich try harder to keep it so. The characters are realistic: the humble village parson of Ndotsheni, Rev. Stephen Kumalo, his sincere and helpful newfound friend, Rev. Msimangu, the most accommodating Mrs. Lithebe whose philosophy in life is, "Why are we born if not to help each other?" Then there is John Kumalo, so different from his older brother, the kind, humble, soft-spoken, Rev. Kumalo. So refreshing are Kumalo's innocent and cordial conversations with the boy with "a brightness in him," who rides past the church on a horse, they prove that one who is forgiving and one who is innocent can, between them, transcend any prejudice and hatred. And finally, how Kumalo's humility and sincerity change the heart of a pro-Apartheid white farmer who discovers a silent rebellion in his family, but only when it's too late. Thank goodness Alan Paton finally found his calling as a writer after being a reformatory-school administrator, an experience which no doubt has helped him write this beautiful everlasting piece. His description of South Africa's outstanding natural beauty is fluent and picturesque. You can almost see the rolling hills disappearing into valleys, smell the earth after the rain, hear the call of the titihoya, and feel yourself rocking in the train bound for Johannesburg in the night. His prose is non-traditional but very understandable. It is hard to agree with reviewers who have had difficulty in understanding who was saying what in the book's dialogues. Forgive me, but if one has had an eighth-grade education, one should have no difficulty in extracting the marrow from this book. To read this book is to cry for humanity but still hold out a hope for it!