Monday, December 30, 2013

Book Review: Vicious Circle by Wilbur Smith




I am an avid fan of Wilbur Smith’s novels - or, I’d rather qualify the statement - I was an avid fan until I read his latest book, Vicious Circle, or rather tried to read it.

After I have read the book about halfway, I threw it aside and decided no, enough is enough. No more Wilbur Smith for me! And one must bear in mind that I became a fan of his books way back in the 70’s when I bought his first book and since then I have read all his books, unfortunately also Vicious Circle but fortunately only halfway through.

Vicious Circle is supposed to be a follow-up on the book Those in Peril and I must admit that Vicious Circle started off well and it was a joy to read until, it seemed to me, poor old Wilbur lost the plot and it became just a piece of filth after the other.

Yes, my opinion is that it just became filth, nothing more, nothing less. It was very odd for me. Wilbur is an acclaimed author. So what happened here? Nobody knows, maybe not even Wilbur will know what happened but he delft into the darkest and filthiest side of human nature. As if he wanted to shock the reader, to make him sick, to annoy him.

Here a few examples:

She thrust her hips towards him and she felt him touch the mouth of her womb. “You are as slimy as a bucket of eels down there, you dirty bitch,” he said.

With a single stroke of the silver blade he sliced the ear of cleanly at the level of her scalp. “Now eat it. Put it in your mouth and swallow it,” he told her softly. “Eat it or I will cut out your eyeballs, one at a time.” She put her ear into her mouth.

“I think we need a little blood to get Hannibal worked up.” He swung the spade at the level of her knees. The steel cut through to the bone and shattered her kneecap. Blood spurted from the wound. Silvestre tossed Bryoni over the wall. She fell amongst the hogs. Hannibal led the charge of great black bodies. He locked his tusks into her wounded leg. He worried the mutilated limb, trying to tear off a mouthful of flesh, dragging Bryoni on her back through the mud. Bryoni lifted her face towards the camera. “Please,” she cried. “Please somebody help me.” Then another animal bit her shoulder and heaved back, until he and Hannibal had Bryoni’s body racked between them. A third boar surged forward and bit into her stomach and then pulled back, tearing out a tangled mass of her entrails. Bryoni opened her mouth for the last time. “Daddy”! She cried out in a piercing but slowly descending pith. And the pigs tore bloody chunks from her body and gulped them down.

This book is definitely not for the squeamish. I had to battle through more than 300 pages before I realized that I am squeamish, but enough was enough.

Maybe I am too critical. But after many Wilbur Smith books on my record, this one was just not my cup of teas.

I believe many people will like it, so try it out.

Danie de Villiers

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