On a spring afternoon, people in the cosmopolitan suburb of Melville in Johannesburg go about their business unselfconsciuosly. This novel introduces us to some of them: To Hugh Epstein, a science lecturer setting up a gigantic “microchip” for public display. To his daughter, Tanya, on her way with a group of school friends, among them a boy called Lyon, to perform their singular rituals on the Melville Koppies. To Shane and Renée, two artist friends, who observe the group as they pass the neglected garden of a reclusive Greek immigrant. To Aden, an embittered friend of Shane and Renée, moping on another table at the same restuarant. In his remarkable debut novel, Louis Greenberg unravels these intertwined lives, recounting their stories in depth and detail as we follow them singly or jointly to the remote Karoo, to London, to Greece; into city households, friendships, sexual and emotional entanglements. With gentle thoughtfulness and in vivid colours he reveals life in the city to us. The narrator's regard remains detached, yet his observations are so fine and his eye so unflinching that very real people step from the pages, each seeking self-expression and fulfilment. All carriers of signs, like the beggars at suburban intersections.
