38 pages • 1 hour read
Bessie HeadA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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“The man who slowly walked away from them was a king in their society. A day had come when he had decided that he did not need any kinship other than the kind of wife everybody would loathe from the bottom of their hearts. He had planned for that loathing in secret; they had absorbed the shocks in secret. When everything was exposed, they had only one alternative: to keep their prejudice and pretend Maru had died.”
The prejudice referred to in this quotation refers to Maru’s wife. She is a Masarwa, the lowest form of human life known to his people. In the village of Dilepe, the Masarwa are slaves, not the wife of a king. In marrying a Masarwa woman, Maru loses much of his social position.
“There had never been a time in his life when he had not thought a thought and felt it immediately bound to the deep center of the earth, then bound back to his heart again—with a reply. Previously, the stillness with which he held himself together to hear the reply had always been disrupted by people. People were horrible to him because they imagined that their thoughts and deeds were concealed when he could see and hear everything, even their bloodstreams and the beating of their hearts. If they knew all that he knew, would they not have torn him to shreds some time ago, to keep the world the way it was when secrets and evil had the same names?”
Maru contemplates his inner knowing concerning human nature, and his deliberate choice to violate one of the most extreme prejudices in his society by marrying a Masarwa woman. He hopes that the example of his life—in which he was to be a paramount chief, or king—will alter this prejudice, but he admits that he does not know how things will turn out: he has only the hope of his behavior influencing such radical social change.
“At least, the present was simple. But there was a depth of secret activity in him like that in his mind like that long, low line of black, boiling cloud. There was a clear blue sky in his mind that calmly awaited the storm in this heart that calmly as the storm in his and when all had been said and done, this earth would be washed clean of all the things he hated. He slowly continues his walk home, his gaze turned toads the horizon. It was very beautiful.”
Maru’s ego and his supremacy of position have lent him the authority to act as he wishes. He does not seek approval for the decisions he makes, nor does he take notice of the approbation or condemnation that follows his actions. Frequently, Head describes Maru’s emotions and state of mind through metaphors: here, the very weather mirrors the emotional struggle within him.
“So quietly did he enter the house that his wife looked up fearfully from her work of preparing the table for the evening meal. He sometimes had vicious, malicious moods when every word was a sharp knife intended to grind and re-grind the same raw wound. Most certainly, no memory remained in her heart and mind of the previous suffering. Most often she felt quite drunk and mad with happiness and it was not unusual for her to walk around for the whole day with an ecstatic smile on her face, because the days of malice and unhappiness were few and far over-balanced by the days of torrential expressions of love.”
Here, the reader comes to understand that Maru is far from a perfect husband. However, his wife, Margaret Cadmore, chooses to forget his malice and only remember his love. From the start, Maru’s ego and arrogance mark the relationship with his wife.
“Maybe some blot of human wrong had to happen to force Maru to identify himself with the many wrongs of mankind. He moved too swiftly and surely. He never doubted the voices of the gods in his heart. It was only over the matter of Moleka that he was completely undone, and not the way one would expect a wrong-doer to be undone. He was thrown off balance by the haunting fear that he would one day be forced to kill Moleka, one way or another.”
Though the reader has not yet met the character called Moleka, a sense of Maru’s egomaniacal and controlling behaviors are already clear. Maru is a man who cannot conceive of himself doing wrong; therefore, all that he does is right, at least as his behaviors are justified in his own mind.
“There were two rooms. In one his wife totally loved him; in another, she totally loved Moleka. He watched over this other room, fearfully, in his dreams at night. It was always the same dream. Moleka would appear trailing a broken leg with blood streaming from a wound in his mouth and his heart. No one ever cried with such deep heart-rending sobs as his wife did on these occasions. Often he would start awake to find those hot tears streaming onto his arm from her closed eyes.”
Maru frequently experiences the thoughts, feelings, and true desires of others, particularly in his dreams. Here, Moleka appears terribly wounded at the same time that his wife cries in her sleep. For Maru, this is evidence of her great love for Moleka, which may surpass her love for Maru himself. As the King of his people, Maru uses what he assumes is a god-given ability to lead and judge what is best for his people, including his wife, his former best friend, Moleka, and his sister, Dikeledi.
“She had no children, but she was an educator of children. She was also a scientist in her heart with a lot of fond, pet theories, one of her favorite, sweeping theories being: environment everything; heredity nothing.”
Margaret Cadmore, the missionary’s wife, enacts her supreme experiment in her raising of the Masarwa child, Margaret. Through this experiment, Margaret the elder treats the younger Margaret as somewhere between a servant and a daughter with the intention of giving the child the ability to “help her people” (p. 10).
‘[S]he stood for all that was the epitome of human freedom. Good sense and logical arguments would never the sole solution to the difficulties the child would later encounter, but they would create a dedicated scholar and enable the child to gain control over the only part of life that would be hers, her mind and soul . . . [S]he would have the capacity, within herself, to survive both heaven and hell.”
Margaret Cadmore, missionary’s wife, a crusader on the issue of racial equality, gave Margaret many tools with which to endure hardship and the racial hatred directed at her due to her Masarwa ethnicity.
“From that eventful evening [the night Margaret Cadmore took in the Masarwa newborn, Margaret] to a day seventeen years later some wonder had indeed been created. Margaret Cadmore had produced a brilliant student, whose name, identical to hers, was always at the top of the list of passes. That the brilliance was based entirely on social isolation and lack of communication with others, except through books, was too painful for the younger Margaret ever to mention.”
Margaret Cadmore, missionary, succeeds in raising Margaret to be a scholar: this is the only gift that she can use against the prejudice she will surely face in her life—an education and the knowledge of how to use it to help herself, particularly to avoid being cast into the stereotypical, slave role forced upon many Masarwa people.
“It was everything between them that caused a tear to shoot out of the young girl’s eye. She had been more than an educator. She had been humor, laughter, fun, unpredictableness, a whole life of vibrating happiness. It ended abruptly as she walked to the car. It was hard to imagine life without her. The future looked lonely.”
Margaret Cadmore, the younger, explains the role that Margaret, the elder, had in the youthful Margaret’s life. As the elder Margaret retires to England, the younger Margaret awaits her new life after completing a teacher-training course.
“Dikeledi drew her breath with a sharp, hissing sound. Dilepe village was the stronghold of some of the most powerful and wealthy chiefs in the country, all of whom owned innumerable Masarwa as slaves.”
Dikeledi, as the daughter of a paramount chief, knows first-hand the realities faced by Masarwa people. Dikeledi immediately grasps the stunning fact that Margaret’s arrival as a teacher in the village undermines the basis under which Masarwa people are enslaved.
“Dikeledi had taken two slaves from her father’s house and, without fuss or bother, paid them a regular monthly wage, and without fuss or bother, they dressed well, ate well, and walked about the village with a quiet air of dignity. There was something Dikeledi called sham. It made people believe they were more important than the normal image of humankind. She had grown up surrounded by sham. Perhaps it was too embarrassing to see people make fools of themselves, because at one point she said: ‘I’ll have none of that.’ She was not alone in that decision.”
Dikeledi, though she is the daughter of a paramount chief, does not follow the rules of her class: for example, she does not believe in the prejudice against or slave holding of the Masarwa people. She is a rebel in other ways too, as shown by her creating a close friendship with Margaret and smoothing the path at the school for her.
“As she mentioned the name, Moleka, a happy smile lit up Dikeledi’s face. She had been in love with Moleka since doomsday. There had been one quarrel in particular, but many others as well. After their quarrels, he seemed quite happy if he never saw her again, but she was always restless afterwards, until some excuse presented itself for her to throw herself in his path. It was said of Moleka that he had taken his heart out of his body and hidden it in some secret place while he made love to all the women in the village. Dikeledi was the only woman who knew that. The quarrels were about where he had hidden his heart.”
“A terror slowly built up around the name of Maru because of these events [women driven crazy after love affairs with Maru]. In their conversations at night they discussed the impossible, that he was the reincarnation of Tladi, a monstrous ancestral African witch-doctor who had been a performer of horrific magic.”
Not everyone in the village loves or understands Maru; in fact, some attack Maru and gossip about him behind his back due to their jealousy and hatred of the future paramount chief, who does not curry the favor of others.
“The Totems cringed. It seemed as though that the world was ending. Next to Maru, they instinctively took Moleka as the most powerful man in the village. A servant, not a Masarwa, who worked in Moleka’s home spread the word that they no longer knew what was what. He said that all the Masarwa slaves in Moleka’s home sat at table with him when he ate. The whole village was involved. There was no longer buzz, buzz, buzz. Something they liked as Africans to pretend themselves incapable of—being oppressive and prejudiced—was being exposed. They always knew it was there but no oppressor believes in his oppression.”
“Ranko was like Moleka. They both wanted to protect a personality too original to survive in an unoriginal world. Their loves differed. Moleka’s love was objective, ideal. As long as he held Maru up as his ideal, he loved him. Not so Ranko. The day Maru died, so would he. He had no other life.”
Maru’s special personality engenders a particularly intense loyalty in the people he chooses to love. Though he has few friends and eschews getting to know many people, Maru still strongly affects his friends and loved ones, and in his position as the next paramount chief, his decisions affect the life of the village. The people in the village are intertwined through their social positions, particularly in the way that people, such as Ranko, put themselves in a position of near enslavement to Maru, simply because he is who he is.
“Slowly he descended the stair case and walked to the home of this sister. She was still eating, on the porch. She looked up quietly as he seated himself. They did not greet one and other. Their bloodstreams were one.”
In this passage, the omniscient narrator illuminates the intimate relationship between Maru and his sister, Dikeledi. Though they are so close and Dikeledi models her behavior after Maru’s example, Maru manipulates Dikeledi by telling tales that exaggerate Moleka’s goodness and kindness. Head uses this metaphor of united bloodstreams to emphasize the earthly quality and depth of understanding within various relationships. For example, Moleka also states that his relationship with Dikeledi is based upon the mingling of their bloodstreams.
“Moleka looked up. At first Maru blinked, thinking he saw almost a replica of himself before him. The same, arrogant Moleka was no longer there, but some other person like himself—humbled and defeated before all the beauty of the living world. So is that what love is like he thought. And you can’t hide it? …[B]ut what was in Moleka’s heart, now that the barriers were broken, made Maru’s heart cold with fear. It was another version of arrogance and dominance, but more terrible because it was of the spirit.”
The gentle and emotional Maru sees the once-closed doors of Moleka’s kingdom open before him. The two men, once the only person each other truly loved, now are openly at war over the Masarwa woman. Maru sees Moleka’s power, and it is greater than Maru’s own power, but Moleka’s power is not tempered by compassion.
“’When you think of me,’ he said, ‘you think of me as they all do, that I am their public property to be pushed around and directed by what they think is right and good for me. Has it not occurred to you that I might despise, even loathe them? Three quarters of the people on this continent are like Morafi, Seth and Pete—greedy, grasping, back-stabbing, a betrayal of all the good in mankind. I was not born to rule this mess. If I have a place it is to pull down the old structures and create the new. Not for me any sovereignty over my fellow men. I’d remove the blood money, the cruelty and crookery from the top, that’s all. There’s a section of my life the will never claim or own.’”
Maru explains the purpose of his life, as he understands it, to his sister, Dikeledi. She, like many people in the village, looks up to Maru as a god. She imitates and follows his example in how she leads her life. However, she is shocked that he does not want the paramount chief role that has been thrust upon him; he does not seek dominion over others. Instead, he seems to want to effect social change, rather than taking advantage of the system to enrich himself. However, this view of Maru’s character differs from the Maru who emerges after he meets Margaret Cadmore. He seeks to use her for his own ends.
“Should he bother to explain to her the language of the voices of the gods who spoke of tomorrow? That they were opening doors on all sides, for every living thing on earth, that there would be a day when everyone would be free and no one the slave of another?”
Maru is thinking about Margaret during a conversation with Dikeledi. Maru believes he has the ability to lead people by his example, according to the voices of the gods in his heart. He envisions a day when all people are equal, and he will not stop acting in a manner that moves the world toward equality. The hypocrisy of his own life includes the blood money earned through the enslavement of the Masarwa; he desires to redress this wrong in an unnamed fashion. However, when the moment comes for him to act in a selfless manner, he is unable to do so. He thinks then only of his own interests. His idealism is lost.
“When had they not worked hand in hand? They would do so again, except as enemies this time. The way he saw it, it could not be helped, but he intended coming out on top, as the winner. It was different if the motivation was entirely selfish, self-centered, but the motivation came from the gods who spoke to him in his heart. They had said: Take that road. Then they had said: Take that companion. He believed his heart and the things in it. They were his only criteria for goodness. In the end, nothing was personal to him. In the end, the subjection of his whole life to his inner gods was an intellectual process. Very little felling was involved. His methods were cold, calculating and ruthless.”
The gentle Maru transforms into a manipulative, even cruel, man, now that he has seen what he wants: Margaret Cadmore. He is willing to hurt his best friend, his sister, and Margaret in the pursuit of what his “inner gods” have told him to do. His behavior becomes harshly manipulative toward Margaret, his sister, and Moleka. He will do whatever he must to achieve his objective.
“Later, although he never wanted to admit it, he had at last accidentally found a dwelling place for his restless heart. Dikeledi’s kingdom was like that of the earth and its deep center which absorbed the light and radiation of a billion suns and planets and kept on dreaming and brooding, recreating life in an eternal cycle. Moleka must have scratched his head and smiled to himself. At least he had stumbled onto something that was a true complement to his own kingdom of radiant energy.”
Moleka realizes in this passage that he was more fortunate than he knew in his choosing Dikeledi over Margaret. Dikeledi never knows that Moleka was in love with Margaret Cadmore, her close friend. Moleka chooses Dikeledi for purely selfish motives: he knows that he can never win in a fight with Maru for Margaret’s love, and he wants an easy, happy life, which he could never have if Maru were hounding him, if Moleka ever succeeded in securing Margaret’s love. He makes a choice for his own happiness. Moleka’s behavior demonstrates a significant theme in the novel of men making self-serving decisions that manipulate and disempower women in the novel. Here, Dikeledi is fooled into believing that Moleka is truly choosing her love over all other women’s love.
“Maru was angry with Moleka because Moleka had taken his sister as his latest concubine. It was the kind of tangle and confusion of events Maru reveled in. Half-truths, outright lies, impossible rumors and sudden, explosive events were his stock-in-trade. He used them as a cover up for achieving his goals. People would thwart him otherwise and he never liked to be side-tracked. He never cared about the means towards the end and who got hurt.”
This depiction of Maru’s character, from an omniscient narrator, directly challenges other descriptions of Maru’s gentleness and goodness. Here, Maru is blatantly manipulating Moleka and his sister to get what he wants: marriage to Margaret Cadmore.
“A lot of people [in Dilepe] were like her [a prostitute who exclaimed that Maru would have been better off marrying her]. They knew nothing about the standards of the soul, and since Maru only lived by those standards they had never been able to make a place for him in their society. They thought he was dead and would trouble them no more. How were they to know that many people shared Maru’s overall ideals, that his was not the end of him, but a beginning?”
In marrying Margaret, Maru escapes a hateful role that he does not want to accept—that of paramount chief. Accepting the role of paramount chief would mean accepting the slavery of the Masarwa people to create personal wealth. His marriage becomes a symbol of his hatred of the enslavement of the Masarwa people, so the marriage is both a supremely selfish deed and an act of social justice.
“When people of the Masarwa tribe heard about Maru’s marriage to one of their own, a door silently opened on the small, dark airless room in which their souls had been shut for a long time. The wind of freedom, which was blowing throughout the world for all people, turned and flowed into the room. As they breathed in the fresh, clear air their humanity awakened. They examined their condition …They laughed in an embarrassed way, scratching their heads. How had they fallen into this condition when, indeed, they were as human as everyone else?”
Maru acts primarily for his own advantage throughout the novel, particularly in his pursuit of Margaret Cadmore, whereby their marriage eliminates him from the paramount chief role in his tribe. However, the consequences do lead to positive outcomes for the Masarwa people. The real, if jealous, love that Maru has for Margaret also speaks to his goodness and lack of prejudice.
By Bessie Head