Confessions of a Dogpiling Hitman

by Richard de Nooy on Aug 25th, 2007

Cutting straight to the chase: I am a hitman. I Google my name 30 times a day. I have decided to share this embarrassing fact with you as an act of contrition and in the hope that I can retroactively salvage something remotely useful from this narcissistic habit, which now also includes Yahooing and Dogpiling (in which no animals are harmed). Fortunately, I live in Amsterdam, a city that tolerates and even embraces addiction as an inevitable part of the human condition. But that is also the root of my problem: you are there – dear readers, reviewers and fellow authors – and I am here, after midnight, locked into my screen, browsing the lists. But insomnia is not the most crippling symptom that afflicts the Dogpiling Hitman.

Frustration is the darker demon. As the hits have mounted – from a piddling seven on April 25th to a whopping 1000-plus today (excluding click-through erosion) – it has become increasingly difficult to spot new hits. And to make matters worse, the best hits have dropped off the screen or are hidden behind a big wall marked “Premium Content”. Meanwhile, my worst review is available for all to see on two different sites (and I’ll be damned if I tell you which).

So, to set the record straight, I’m going to share the good stuff with you. Scroll down for the following:

- a translation of Ronel Nel’s “shocking” review in Beeld;

- Lindsay Slogrove’s “funny and sad and beautiful” review in The Mercury.

- Charlotte Hughes’ “outstanding” review in The Weekender.

And please don’t forget to buy a copy of The Big Issue, featuring Bronwen Dyke’s incisive interview with the Dogpiling Hitman.

This has been most cathartic. Thank you.

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A Shocking Twist

By Ronel Nel in Beeld on 10 June 2007

In Spud, John van de Ruit gave us a hilarious account of his formative years in the old South Africa.

Richard de Nooy’s Six Fang Marks and a Tetanus Shot approaches things from another angle – as seen by a Dutch-born South African, who is doubly excluded within what was then an exclusively white reality. He is a “kaaskop” for the Afrikaners, and a “Dutchman” for the English.

Like Van de Ruit, De Nooy employs an alter ego – called Ace – who recounts the story of his youth in Johannesburg in the 1970s. The major distinction being that De Nooy interweaves two, no three, storylines set in different times and places.

Ace’s brother Rem (Ysbrand and Remco in full) are like two sides of the same coin. The one is timid, overly conscientious, sombre, and unlucky – the other is brimming with self-confidence, a wild child, an accident-prone fighter. The two are inseparable.

In between, the story jumps forward to Amsterdam in the late 1980s, and back to the present day in Johannesburg, ultimately weaving a poignant story of loss and self-preservation. In fact, the entire book is an attempt to gain understanding.

As was the case in Engemi Ferreira’s seminal work Die Jaar Toe Mij Ma Begin Sing Het, the story develops with an unexpected, shocking twist.

And this is where its strength lies.

Until this point, it is just another story about growing up in a country where the protagonist doesn’t really feel at home, but which he knows intimately, because it is his only reality – although I must add that there are plenty of hysterically funny moments and loving descriptions of this world.

But the latter chapters force the reader to engage in self-reflection and investigation.

It is unclear where the truth ends and fiction begins. But that is probably unnecessary, because the truth of this book lies in the spirit of detachment: the collective self.

Ronel Nel is an author and freelance journalist.

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Six Fang Marks and a Tetanus Shot

By Lindsay Slogrove in The Mercury on 9 August 2007

One of the skills of a really good storyteller is the ability to juxtapose mirth with tragedy.
The feel of Fangs, from its crazy cover to the very amusing back-page blurb, sets the tone for a light-hearted read.

From the first page there are smiles, and there was even a passage that had me giggling loudly. You love the quirky people in the book, recognise some of the weird situations, feel for them in their daily – but very everyday – struggles and disappointments. These could be people you know.

Then De Nooy drops a big whammy, and all the mirth is gone. Instead, you have a heart-breaking situation that you really want to change back to the happy times – sort of like life, sometimes.

It is a story about a writer who is piecing together the lives of two brothers who had grown up in South Africa.

It is funny and sad and beautiful, and will stay with you long after you have finished.

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Surviving life as one long series of accidents

By Charlotte Hughes in The Weekender on 18 August 2007

Richard de Nooy is from Johannesburg, but has lived in Amsterdam for the past 20 years. He is a multifaceted man who studied journalism at Rhodes University and later psychology at the University of Amsterdam.

During his career, he has been a bouncer, cartoonist, translator, editor and copywriter.

His outstanding novel Six Fang Marks and a Tetanus Shot is his first book.

His story of two reckless brothers — Ace and Rem — is carefully constructed. Their sibling bond grows stronger as they journey through their lives, which are strewn with obstacles and are really just one large accident.

A variety of accidents occur in the book, from those that merely cause injury to accidental deaths. Constant reference is made to accidents and accident-prone people, such as Rem. This is explored through a series of quotes from characters in the book and even Sigmund Freud.

The novel unfolds in SA and Amsterdam. Like their creator, Ace and Rem grew up in SA, later moving to Amsterdam . The novel jumps around from past to present, exploring the boys’ childhood and how school, corporal punishment and apartheid affected their lives.
They perform outrageous stunts only boys could attempt, such as deciding to try jousting with lances made from long bamboo poles and armour made from cardboard — the perfect setup for an accident.

As the boys progress into manhood, they face new obstacles in their lives: work, money, crime, sex, love … and, of course, new accidents. These include Rem being run over by a tram and both brothers having to deal with the consequences.

The boys’ transition from childhood to manhood is mirrored by their move from SA — from being young children in a less developed country, to Amsterdam — a more developed and adult-like city .
De Nooy lets their story unfold through a series of letters and Ace’s recollections. This allows the reader to engage more intimately with the characters, their situations and their surroundings.
He brings his fascinating novel to an abrupt end, however, the imagery he spins throughout the book should leave readers completely satisfied.

At the start of the novel, De Nooy’s two boys seem like lost causes. They start their lives knowing nothing but trouble, pain and accidents. Yet they stand strong beside each other, laughing at their faults rather than squabbling over them, looking at the bright side of every obstacle and accident .
This novel has a deeper, hidden message: one of brotherhood and standing strong through whatever is thrown at you. The characters Ace and Rem prove this is possible.