This guy is a direct descendant of one Jacob Cloete, who came out to South Africa in 1652 with Jan Van Riebeek and the very first settlers. I know this because he was my grandfather's cousin. Reading it made me feel like I wasn't the only black sheep in the family! What a life he lived.
The thing is, he doesn't know any of this until the day before he goes to fight in the trenches in the First World War. He doesn't even know his surname is Cloete. He thinks it's Graham.
But then his dad (my grand
This guy is a direct descendant of one Jacob Cloete, who came out to South Africa in 1652 with Jan Van Riebeek and the very first settlers. I know this because he was my grandfather's cousin. Reading it made me feel like I wasn't the only black sheep in the family! What a life he lived.
The thing is, he doesn't know any of this until the day before he goes to fight in the trenches in the First World War. He doesn't even know his surname is Cloete. He thinks it's Graham.
But then his dad (my grandfather's uncle) comes to him and says "Listen son. Your name's actually Cloete. I had to change it and move from England to France cos I got into shit with business."
Anyway, off he goes and fights, gets badly injured and spends a long time in hospital where he falls in love with an Irish nurse.
After the war they marry and they spend about 7 or 8 years on a little plot of land in France growing veggies and stuff.
But it slowly eats away at him. Who is he? What is the rest of his family up to down there at the bottom tip of Africa?
So he leaves, and spends the next ten years or so managing farms for family members all over South Africa. At the age of 39, he decides "Fuck this. I'm going to be a writer!"
Now he never even finished school, but he goes back to France and holes himself up somewhere for a year and writes a novel on the Great Trek in South Africa that gets banned here for about 45 years but immediately becomes a number one best seller in America! He gets catapulted into fame and spends a few years shamelessly philandering around while churning out racy novels with a dark twist set in various parts of Africa. I think by the time he died in the early 70s he'd written about 50 books.
What a guy.
I read this book at the age of 39 and decided Fuck that? Why must I be a photographer my whole life? I'm going to become a songwriter. Which is exactly what I did.
Stuart Cloete was born in France in 1897 to a Scottish mother and South African father. (His ancestors had come from Holland with Jan Van Riebeck to establish a settlement for the Dutch East India Company).
He remembered his early years in Victorian Paris with sweet nostalgia, but the ideal was shattered when he began his schooling in France and England. He never excelled academically and - in his
Stuart Cloete was born in France in 1897 to a Scottish mother and South African father. (His ancestors had come from Holland with Jan Van Riebeck to establish a settlement for the Dutch East India Company).
He remembered his early years in Victorian Paris with sweet nostalgia, but the ideal was shattered when he began his schooling in France and England. He never excelled academically and - in his own words - ‘learnt almost nothing'.
At the age of 17 Cloete went straight into the army, and became one of the youngest commissioned officers in the First World War. While nearly all of his early fellow officers and friends died, he survived four years of fighting in France and, for a while, was treated like a living lucky charm by the troops. He was seriously injured twice and experienced amnesia induced by ‘shell-shock' which was largely left untreated. In a mental hospital in London he met his first wife, a volunteer nurse, Eileen Horsman, and fell deeply in love, even inducing a second breakdown with aspirin and whisky so he could see her again.
After recuperating in France, Cloete acted on his compulsion to identify with the land of his ancestors. He became a successful farmer in the Transvaal in South Africa. But as soon as he had established himself and achieved his aims he became restless again and began pondering a life as a writer. His eighteen year marriage floundered through growing incompatibility and Cloete's infidelity.
He sold up and left for England to become an author, leaving Eileen behind in South Africa. He recalled the decision to become a writer as the biggest gamble of his life. But, as it turned out, he hit the jackpot with his first novel, Turning Wheels, published in 1937. It sold more than two million copies, although it was banned in South Africa where it scandalised the authorities with its commentary on the Great Trek and a mixed race relationship. Cloete was a prolific writer and went on to complete 14 novels and at least eight volumes of short stories.
On the way to America to promote Turning Wheels, Cloete met Tiny who later became his second wife. It was not love at first sight but eventually he realised he had found a soul mate. Tiny enjoyed the fruits of his success as a highly acclaimed writer and was his faithful companion until his death in the Cape in 1976.
Cloete lived though a period of unprecedented upheavals and in his autobiography, published in the early 70s, he pondered whether ‘progress' was in fact a misnomer; it had ushered in colourless uniformity and even the threat of nuclear war. He also reflected on the chapters of his vagabond, eventful and, in his view, incredibly lucky life.
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