Review: The Boy Who Could Keep a Swan in His Head by John Hunt

It’s 1967 in Hillbrow, and Phen is trying to find his place in the world’s narrative. A single child with a stutter that prevents him from making friends, Phen is too scared to voice the thoughts that chase themselves around his mind. Away from school, he seeks solace in books, and reading haltingly to his ailing father, while his mother slowly implodes. Moored between these two bleak islands, Phen is alone. Until one day, he suddenly isn’t. When Phen chances upon a strange man in the park, he is exposed to parts of the world he had never considered; friendship, possibility, and alternate endings.

There is a macabre nostalgia conjured through Phen’s experiences, lending gravitas to a story which deceptively appears to be straightforward. Hunt’s creation is a world in which childhood is neither innocent nor easy, and in which the jagged perspectives of youth are given more than just a courtesy coating of romance or angst. Hunt offers insight into a beautiful yet complicated transition from childhood dreams and expectations to a world in which endings aren’t always happy, but complicated by disaster and the unmooring of family.

The Boy Who Could Keep a Swan in His Head is a poetic orchestra of a narrative. Through Phen and his myriad books, we’re entertained with linguistic gymnastics; words literally paint a picture of a boy lost in books, curling himself around the letters to avoid a devastating reality. In accompanying Phen’s experiences, we’re in the front row of the rollercoaster that whips him from sadness, through loss, and towards determination and courage. This book is a superb example of South African literature, with memorable characters and a profound message. Every page deserves praise.

The Boy Who Could Keep a Swan in His Head by John Hunt is published by Umuzi, an imprint of Penguin Random House South Africa.